New words, bad habits of the Brits and how we don't conform to that norm.

I've learnt a new word: el balconing. I read about it in La Voz de Galicia, one of the local newspapers. El balconing is a sport practised by young, drunken British tourists in places like Mallorca and Ibiza, especially Magaluf. It consists of leaping off balconies, sometimes into pools, sometimes just into the street or into crowds of people. Spanish authorities are more than a little concerned at the "orgías etílicos y sexuales" which crazy young people from the UK indulge in every night. (Etílico is an excellent word for alcoholic, is it not?) I quite agree with them. 

We once went to Magaluf, by mistake I hasten to add. Phil was taking part in the Calvia chess congress which turned out to be in Magaluf. Even in October it was a regular thing every morning to see barmen sweeping up masses of broken glass outside their bars. Bars which advertised, in English, one litre of vodka and coke for €2!!! Which comes first, cheap alcohol or the demand for cheap alcohol? Anyway, I think the Spanish newspapers are right when they say that young Brits seem to leave all sense of morality and general decency behind when they get off the plane in places like Magaluf. 

I'm not going there again. And Phil didn't even win a prize! 

We are much more restrained in our drinking habits, following the great Spanish tradition of eating something, preferably free tapas, while we drink. So we pop into wifi cafes and slake our thirst responsibly while catching up with out internet needs. 

Yesterday this led to our having a little chat with the waiter in the Nuevo Derby about the British Open Golf Championship, just finished in Hoylake, Liverpool. It was on the TV in the cafe. He asked if we knew how much tickets for the event cost. No idea! Golf doesn't really interest us much. And then I saw on Facebook that my sister-in-law was there. I didn't see her on screen though. 

When we first came to spend time in Vigo, amazingly almost six years ago now, we lived right in the centre of town, in the middle of all the activity. Now we have a flat at the far end of town, almost in Teis, and it's positively rural. Although there are huge tower blocks of flats, just like ours, all around there are smaller properties with little vegetable gardens attached. It's a whole self-sufficiency thing that's going on. We, however, amount to no more than a pot of basil on the window ledge. 

Back to new words, I recently discovered Sean Bean's version of John Denver's Annie's Song. It goes like this: 

"You fill up my senses, 
like a gallon of Magnet, 
 like a packet of Woodbines, 
like a good pinch of snuff; Like a night out in Sheffield, 
like a greasy chip butty…". 

I just thought I would share that. 

I've just seen the weather forecast for Spain for tomorrow: sunshine everywhere, except possibly the Basque Country, where they can expect rain! Oh, and a few clouds down in the far south, near where my sister lives but that might be good for them as it gets far too hot down there.