Saturday 20 June 2015

In sunny Sanxenxo.

So, here we are in Sanxenxo for the chess tournament again. 

Yesterday the temperature at 9.00 in the morning registered 25 degrees already. By the time we walked down to the train station it was baking hot. We did not appreciate sitting on the train waiting for ten minutes before it decided to set off ... late! We had all been sold tickets with coach and seat numbers but the train we got on was a tiny, one coach affair. One lady was looking for seat number 30, which did not seem to exist. At one end of the carriage was one of those notices that lights up saying "parada solicitada". The kind you see on buses. Who requests a stop on a train? How long ago was that possible? And what kind of track would such a train run on? 

One consequence of the late departure of our train to Pontevedra was that we had to rush across from the train station to the bus station to catch our bus to Sanxenxo. There should have been almost twenty minutes. We had about five. It's a good job the two stations are so close to each other. The bus was already waiting and we had to buy tickets. My heart sank as I saw the queue at the ticket office but most of them seemed to be buying tickets for the same bus as us, so it worked out fine. 

The chap getting on the bus ahead of us was asking the driver to let him know when he reached Sanxenxo. Competent Spanish but a marked American accent, as I thought. Being a helpful, and nosy, soul, I spoke to him. My chessplayer radar was on the alert and somehow he looked like a chess player. What's more he was going to Sanxenxo. I was right. He turned out to be a Canadian international master (slightly different North American accent!) , well acquainted with a friend of ours. Small world syndrome strikes again. 

So even though the bus ride was still rather warm, we had a good chat. 

 Shortly after 2.00 we were installed in our hotel room - very pleasant, nice little terrace to sit out on in the morning before it gets too hot - and then off out for a light lunch. A longish swim in the excellent pool in the early evening and my happiness was complete. This hedonist is not very demanding. At breakfast this morning we have greeted a few old friends from former years. No doubt there will be more at the opening ceremony this afternoon. This is one of the pleasures of returning to a place where you have been before. After lunch it will all get more serious, for Phil anyway. 


The hotel is heaving with events. Some kind of reception was going on in one part of the hotel lounge. And there is a two-day yoga conference taking place here. I briefly considered asking if I could join in but all the people arriving look like very dedicated yoga fanatics, with their special mats and everything. I guess I'll just stick to my morning run along the promenade and a good swim later. 

We decided to go out for a walk before the day heats up too much. The forecast is for very hot again today and tomorrow. On our return, the ladies were still "doing" our room so we took refuge in the hotel lounge for a mineral water and a look at the papers. 

I read that King Felipe and his Queen Letizia have had a very good first year on the throne. There have been no adverse reports in the press apparently. Good for them. His Majesty's promise in his inauguration speech (coronation speech?) to make this a modern monarchy for the 21st century seems to be holding good so far. The article ended on a downbeat though, saying that there is, of course, still the Catalan question. The king may have a nicely united Spain but if Cataluña decides to opt out, will it still be Spain? Rather like the UK and Scotland! 

Back in the UK someone has come up with the "ultimate question" for Hadley Freeman: how to dress under the Tory government? This is to journalist Hadley Freeman in her quirky, slightly alternative fashion guru mode. She went on a bit about the expensive dresses worn by Samantha Cameron and the like. She didn't seem impressed with the way they wore them. She summarised her reply like this: "So that’s how you dress Tory: you take something fun and fabulous and make it staid and dull, awful for the masses but appealing to rich people. See? Tory scum just doesn’t cover it any more, even for Guardian readers. We now live in the era of Tory Twee." 

So it goes!

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