We have been in Baiona, staying in a rather swanky hotel, all expenses paid, on hand to help out with any language problems at an international meeting of big wheels in European chess. In the event they needed very little by way of translation / interpreting services but the organisers seemed happy to have us around.
The chess pundits spoke a range of languages from Rumanian to Hebrew, going through Greek, Serbian, Polish, Bulgarian and who knows what else. All of them, as it turned out, communicated with each other in English but few of them had any Spanish, which is why occasionally they needed us to pass on messages and sort things in the hotel. 
The hotel was fine and the food pretty but not quite as good as you might have expected. The hotel is equipped with seawater spa facilities, which I was enthusiastically encouraged to try out. I was told repeatedly how marvellous they were so I decided to give them a go. Maybe I’m missing something but after just under half an hour of sitting in hot seawater, moving to the jacuzzi section, standing under waterfalls to release tension in my shoulders and sitting, standing or reclining in various bubbly places, but not really able to do much swimming because all the bubbling places got in the way, I was bored stiff. I was getting more tense as a result of all the relaxing. Maybe I needed a friend to chat to while I bubbled!!! But I think this spa stuff is just not my thing. On our first day in the hotel there was a knock on our door. On opening it I saw one of the hotel staff with a bottle of Cava in an ice bucket and a basket of fruit. “Un obsequio del hotel”. How nice! We had no time to eat or drink as we were due to accompany chess pundits to Baiona and show them the fortifications and the replica caravel, la Pinta, a copy of one of the tiny ships in which Columbus and co discovered America. (La Pinta announced the news first at Baiona so that’s why the replica boat is there.) We had a very pleasant stroll around the port of Baiona and some of the old quarter and then headed back to the hotel. In our room, where the Cava and fruit had been, there was an empty space. Disappeared!! Wrong room apparently. Only the pundits got the gift, not humble helpers.
We were amused but someone must have thought that we might be offended as the next day another “obsequio” arrived: a half bottle of Cava and a tray of bits of fruit and nuts covered in chocolate. Having checked with the poor delivery girl, who had seemingly been blamed for the previous day’s confusion, we consumed it all before anyone could come and reclaim it! One of Monday’s events was a “simultaneous” on Príncipe, the pedestrianised shopping street in Vigo centre. Several well-known strong, local chess players took on more or less all comers, each playing twenty games at a time and winning most of them. Very impressive!
I wonder if you could do it on Market Street in central Manchester. It’s another pedestrianised shopping street, after all. Mind you, it would probably rain, uncomfortable for the players and not very conducive for spectators. Whereas in Vigo it was hot and sunny. 
While this was coming to a close a presentation about chess in schools was going on in the Marco Museum just behind all the chess boards. We skipped that and helped some of our visitors to buy stuff on Príncipe before sitting down to a refresco. Then we all had to hop on a special bus to go to Castrelos Park at the other end of town for a reception with local bigwigs.
We got to the park and the bus went past and seemed to get lost. When we offered the driver a map, our organiser told us that we were in fact just losing time. Like a plane circling round an airport until a landing slot was available, we were driving around waiting to be told that the guests of honour, aka local bigwigs, had arrived at the Pazo de Quiñones de León, the stately home in the middle of the park. It would never do for us to arrive first as they needed to shake hands with chess pundits on arrival. I was given to understand that I was expected to act as interpreter while the head pundit and then the deputy mayor made speeches. So I was ushered to a place to one side of the dais and waited. The head pundit told me he didn’t need me. Hardly surprising as he speaks Spanish. So I fully expected him to repeat his Spanish speech in English for the benefit of his fellow pundits. But no, he just spoke in Spanish and handed over to the deputy mayor who also spoke, at length and without any pauses for interpretation. For a brief moment I feared that I might be expected to remember all the points he had made and summarise in English. However, he merely declared the festivities open and the serving ladies started to offer glasses of wine to everyone. So it’s quite likely that I have appeared in press photos and people will be wondering who is the spare part standing on one side.
Back at the hotel a surprise had been prepared for the chess pundits. Everyone was urged to go up to their rooms for a jacket of some kind and then to meet on the terraza where the surprise awaited: “una queimada” (aka “una quemada” in Castilian Spanish). This is a Galician speciality. You take some “orujo”, the local firewater, and put it in an earthenware bowl with sliced of lemon, coffee beans and sugar. Then you set it alight. When the fire dies down, you drink what is essentially mulled “orujo”. Quite spectacular! I suppose most of the alcohol is burnt off but it still tastes quite potent.
The first time I saw this fire ceremony it was accompanied by people dressed as “meigas” (Galician witches), wizards and assorted dancers, as well as a major wizard intoning some kind of mumbo jumbo.
Somebody commented this time that you can’t visit Galicia without trying “una queimada” – “No se puede visitar Galicia sin probar una queimada”. There you go!
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