Music and relaxation.

“The Sound of Music” has come to Vigo. Or rather, “Smiles and Tears” have come, as that is what they call that musical in Spanish. I came across what I presumed to be the props lorry parked behind the theatre, with the name emblazoned on the side of the lorry. How odd, I thought, to find a lorry load of smiles and tears on one of the streets of Vigo. 

I wonder if they translate all the songs into Spanish, or at least do Spanish versions of them, 

because in that kind of performance the songs and the words of the songs are an integral of the story-telling process. Maybe they do the same as in some opera performances and have the translation running above the stage, not subtitles, more supertitles. I remember experiencing that once in La Coruña; it was completely strange, hearing the words in one foreign language, Italian, and reading the translation into another foreign language, Spanish. Whatever they do, I think I’ll give “Sonrisas y Lágrimas” a miss. 

This weekend we have been hearing music of a different kind at the jazz festival in Pontevedra. We went to stay with our friend Colin for the weekend so that we could go to some of the concerts even though we had not actually heard of any of the performers. So it was a leap into the unknown, not an unpleasant leap but I have to say that there was nothing that really had me thinking that I had to go and hear more of any particular artist. 

Still, we had fun and we had some good food as well. On Sunday morning we went down into Pontevedra’s Plaza de Verdura where there is a regular flea market. Colin took his owl with him. 

 

Here is Phil posing with said owl, an odd beast made of hollow plastic. The intention was to put the owl on or near the table when sitting outside to have a drink or something to eat in the hope that the owl would frighten off the annoying pigeons. It was a partial success. 

In the flea market I found a wooden owl, remarkably similar to the plastic one but trying to look rather more distinguished, or possibly just more polished. Colin went and asked the price: €200. Rather a lot to pay for a pigeon scarer. He is waiting for the stall holder to bring his price down. 

Otherwise there was the usual collection of old books and records, glassware and ironware, even a bunch of dolls sitting on a bench. 

Needless to say we didn’t buy anything. Besides we had to hurry back to watch Bradley Wiggins win the Tour de France, acclaimed, of course, as a great achievement for a Briton: the first time we have managed it. It seems that we can’t play football or tennis but we can succeed at cycling. All we need now is for Wiggo, as the French called him, to win a gold medal at the Olympic Games and he will be truly everyone’s hero. It has already been suggested that he should become Sir Bradley!! 

Apart from that, given the high temperatures, the other great attraction of staying at Colin’s house was his community pool. Naturally, I had to time my dips to avoid those occasions when six small girls leap in the pool together and cause major turbulence but at 10 o’ clock this morning with the sun already heating everything up, I had the pool entirely to myself, which is pretty much one of the possible definitions of paradise.