10 Spanish things better than their UK equivalents (Part II)

Onwards and upwards then with numbers six to ten, and, first off an apology because the next one doesn't actually exist in the UK so it isn't really a direct comparison. Having said that it's a great idea that might catch on in Britain.

Time for a nap

|La Siesta - the word itself puts me in mind of one of those spaghetti westerns starring the late Lee van Cleef, where, in a remote New Mexico town, the dusty and fly blown streets are deserted as folk escape the heat of the early afternoon sun. The streets of Spain aren't fly blown or dusty, but between say, one pm and five in the afternoon quite a lot less people are around as stores close and everyone takes a bit of a breather. Depending on who you ask, the Spanish siesta is the period immediately following a big meal; so whether you eat at two or four o'clock it's irrelevant, your siesta starts then. Picture yourself falling asleep in an armchair after a massive Sunday dinner and you're getting there. Alternatively, there are the proponents of the "too hot to work" theory which has considerable mileage when the August temperature is nudging forty degrees. The argument is slightly less convincing in January though when the mercury barely reaches fourteen. Whatever, the siesta is great - except when the chemist is closed and I've got a splitting headache.

The North Sea scares kids shitless


Beaches - on the face of it, British and Spanish beaches have quite a bit in common - water, sand and a promenade - for example. Check again though in August and the difference will be plain to see, as will the approximately three million people wedged onto the sands the shimmering Mediterranean gently licks. By contrast, the industrial looking North Sea, grey and icy, hammers ashore and savagely drags half the shingle banks with it as it retreats. While all this happens UK holiday makers hunker down behind wind-breaks, without which, their day at the seaside takes on the air of something decidedly miserable. If that isn't enough to rest my case, what about the chiringuitoes, attractive beach bars that serve you hot food and cold drinks? Trust me, they really are a fabulous idea. It's not all good news though, the quintessentially English beach hut - very popular amongst the Brits for keeping out of the chilly wind - doesn't exist in my world, which is often plagued in high summer by swarms of jellyfish. Thousands and thousands of these spiteful little sods, some of which are quite dangerous too, make August something of an ordeal for many. I've not heard a single report of any Great White sharks perusing the lunch menu from the just offshore beyond the shallows though.

Bank holidays - another real goodie, and, unlike Gran Bretaña, Good Friday, Christmas and Boxing days aside, Spain doesn't restrict her bank holidays to a Monday. There are also two different types so double bubble!!

Sheffield Wednesday - the first non-Monday UK bank holiday

 As a nation Spain has seventeen autonomous regions and two autonomous cities, each of which has their own group of local holidays unique to the province. My patch, Valencia, celebrates the day of the Community on October the 9th for example and other towns throughout the province have public holidays of their own that neighbouring councils don't. Add to these then the National holidays that everyone enjoys, ie., December the 6th, (Constitution Day), and January the 6th, (Three Kings Day/Twelfth Night) amongst others, you soon rack up a mighty impressive collection of days off, quite a few more than the United Kingdom. It's also quite important to note that these "fiestas" are governed by date, and so, fall on whatever day is necessary. This is another good thing because if your public holiday falls on say, a Tuesday or Thursday, in certain circumstances, people help themselves to the Monday or Friday as well. It's called  "la puente" (the bridge). The Spanish - you gotta love 'em..........

Some random Spanish folk!!!

 People...........which leads me neatly on to my next theme. Nearly as contentious with the Brits as my inclusion of Spanish ladies this one, but, unlike the aforementioned it isn't included because Spanish people are more aesthetically pleasing. Perhaps it's something to do with the combination of wanting to improve my meagre Spanish at every opportunity, but, and I might be hopelessly wrong here, the majority of the indigenous folk in my world seem unfailingly polite. Maybe they just take pity on me and smile nicely to be polite, I'm not sure. What I do know is that those who figure out I'm not one of them immediately reply in English because they too want to practise their studies, and, all of a sudden, cha ching the ice is broken!! There are exceptions to the rule though and, oddly enough, they invariably involve old folk, who, wherever they live are simply cantankerous. Imagine living in Germany! Overall, the Spanish in general really are to be applauded handsomely for the way in which they tolerate so many incomers, most of whom set up home in or around popular resort towns where the locals understand their financial value to the community. Those that don't, me, have their own slightly harder linguistic and cultural adventure which, trust me, is no less rewarding.

If Carslberg did countries

Lifestyle - there you go then, given what's gone before my personal number ten should be obvious, no? Okey dokey, for the educationally challenged who probably won't ever figure it out, the final item on my list is a combination of the previous nine, which, collectively provide me with a quality of life I could only have imagined as recently as 2005. Prior to that date I had no idea how well fed, stupidly cheaply I could be whilst admiring very agreeable ladies from beneath a hot sun on a sun drenched sandy beach whilst supping a cafe granizado that cost me fifty centimos. But there's more, granted I personally earn a fraction of my English take home. (which was necessary to pay the mortgage, prohibitive car running costs, Council Tax, artist formerly known as Mrs Rendall and sundry other add-ons), but I can't ever remember being happier. Honestly! A happiness sadly missing, for the most part, from my previous UK life is easily attainable in Spain and for a fraction of the cost. Obviously don't take Spanish pensioners for granted, they'll eat you alive as will most elderly folk who think your very existence is down to them, but try and imagine your very happy two August weeks in Greece or the Caribbean all year round.................

10 Spanish things better than their UK equivalents (Part I)

Five years in sunny Spain is plenty of time I reckon to make an objective comparison between the place I left and the one I now call home. In no particular order then, here are ten things I think Spain does just a tad, (actually, considerably), better than the United Kingdom.

Pulpo a la Gallega

Food - sure Inglaterra has cottage pie, Yorkshire puds, Cornish pasties and hotpot - but where would you like me to start with the Mediterranean alternatives ? We'll kick off with tapas shall we, quite possibly one of the best culinary inventions ever - period. First things first, tapas is not/aren't a starter or an "entrada," moreover it's the perfect way to eat as little or as much as you like. Moving swiftly on, the regional options dwarf those availible over the water and the list really is endless. A couple at random: Paella originated in the Valencia region and over the years the signature dish of the Communidad Valenciana has travelled far and wide with different versions evolving depending on whereabouts in the country you ask for it. Pulpo a la Gallega - Octopus from Galicia, the very best eight legged seafood Spain has to offer and a speciality of the Galicia region of Spain directly to the north of Portugal with an Atlantic coastline just south of  the Bay of Biscay.

La Gota Fria often wreaks indiscriminate havoc

The weather - the obvious one but impossible to ignore unfortunately. Obviously the postcards would have you believe that for nine months of the year Spain cooks beaneath a cloudless blue sky, I wouldn't say as many as nine to be honest, for perhaps four months it's a bit on the warm side and at a push, five. For the rest of the year though nothing is off limits weather wise, which includes biblical rains and enough snow in certain areas to sustain some pretty pricey ski resorts. Don't believe everything someone sends you from their summer holidays, during November, December and January my woolly hat, gloves and scarf are most definitely not redundant. Following weeks and weeks where the temperature hovers on or above 40 degrees day after day, towards the end of September a bizarre and, I think unique, weather phenomenon known as La Gota Fria looms large and is a distinct possibility for at least a month. In short, certain unlucky areas can expect torrential rains which leave streets under water and many small towns unable to cope with the deluge.

Outrageous prices for UK faves

Prices - erm, they're quite a bit lower for almost everything. I suppose the best rule of thumb is what costs a quid in the United Kingdom will set you back a euro in Spain. I don't know, say, pizzas - Domino's Pizza in the UK would politely ask you to part with nine quid for example, but over here a very similar order would run to nine of those funny European thingy's. Obviously, currency exchange fluctuations have an impact so at today's rate it would be, give or take, about £7.50 - a couple of years ago holiday makers heading for the Costa's would have secured even better rates of exchange and, thus, even better value. Generally speaking, most things, for example - petrol for the car, a pint of beer, a restaurant meal, cigarettes, basically all the crucial stuff is about twenty per cent cheaper. The exceptions to this rule are the kinds of stuff ex-pats in Spain can't seem to do without; i.e., Marmite, The Sun newspaper, Branston pickle and Heinz spaghetti hoops, to name but a few. For these and other household names from Tesco, expect to be shamelessly ripped off!

A simple system no-one is baffled by

Dustbins - by that I mean a direct comparison between the seemingly haphazard UK "system" and the slick organisation of Spain where trash of all kinds is removed the day people dump it. From memory, British households are issued with about thirteen different coloured receptacles, each of which is designated as being for specific types of household waste. Woe betide any harassed English mum who inadvertently puts an empty fish finger box in the container for grass cuttings and green mulch because that hidden camera within is capable of issuing a spot fine!  In continental Southern Europe it's altogether simpler, every fourth or fifth block in mosts towns you come across a group of three or four big old bins for paper, glass, organic waste and one more for the rest. Once a night, the two niffy ones, (organic and everything else), are emptied by a massive great truck which makes its rounds as everyone is fast asleep. Paper and glass are emptied in the same method once the containers are full, usually weekly. It really isn't rocket science!!

Señoritas - yes please

Ladies - it might be something to do with all that olive oil, I'm not entirely sure what, but by and large Spanish ladies are actually quite fit. Blondes may well have all the fun, but I guarantee you leggy brown eyed brunettes get most of the admiring glances. Although it's my blog and I can write exactly what I want, I'd better stop now because someone, more than likely an anaemic looking British woman, is bound to label me a sexist. I would just add though that I've spent the last four years of my life living with one of the aforementioned señoritas so I am perfectly well qualified and competent to judge the differences.
PS - I've had the privilege and pleasure of knowing some amazing non -Spanish females throughout my life, some of whom remain dear friends that I trust implicitly and there's one in particular I will always adore.


That's the top half - my final five will be coming up shortly.

Wake up and smell the coffee

The price of a cuppa

It matters very little that the price of a cup is three times more expensive in the UK than Spain, but if you tried nursing one for three hours with a book or laptop in any kind of British cafe, you'd soon get asked to leave or buy another one. In Spain though, drinking coffee is the kind of  pleasure even the hardest bitten cafeteria owners understand and actively seem to encourage. And do you know the best thing, out here you can join in with your Compaq or John Grisham and all for not much more than a Euro.

Truth be told it's probably far simpler to brew up in your own kitchen, indeed some folk, but not many, actually do. Only once you live in Spain can you appreciate the allure of a lengthy glance at that days newspaper whilst people watching from a cafe terrace supping from a cup full of any one of a multitude of different hot beverage options, all of which include coffee beans. Personally, I fell in love with the cafe culture not long after arriving in the country, whilst simultaneously figuring out four or five daily rations of caffeine without milk and sugar probably wasn't conducive to a decent night's sleep. Thereafter de-caf, (descafeinado), was the order of the day - something akin to loving the pub but only drinking alcohol free lager I guess.

Loads to choose from

In Spain, late morning is coffee time and the bar owner can set his or her watch by which regular is in and when. It doesn't matter where you choose, the scenario you're faced with is almost always identical; shop girls pop in for a cafe con leche and a baguette prior to opening up about nine thirty, sharp suited business types, groups of three or four middle aged ladies, young couples, and, my personal favourite, gnarled up old blokes noisily slamming dominoes onto polished tables, narrowly missing tiny cups of super strength dark liquid. People from all walks of life swing by and on their way out pass on to the next table the latest edition of El Pais newspaper or Marca sports daily. This then is the typical clientele of a typical cafeteria in any number of typical towns on a typical work day morning.

Out you go

But suddenly, for about half of these ordinary folk, things would never be the same again because as New Year's Day effortlessly became Sunday the 2nd of January, Spain enacted the harshest anti-smoking laws in Europe and the hazy happiness of countless Marlboro Lite aficionados up and down the country was lost forever. Actually, that last bit isn't actually true, anyone who wishes can still indulge in their carcinogenic bliss but only outside and not near kiddies playgrounds, school gates or adjacent to hospitals. I've not smoked for fourteen months, and so now, as an ex-puffer, I need to find a piece of fence strong enough to support my considerable weight and then sit on it. The new law also now includes restaurants which is a great idea because dining out of an evening almost invariably includes the whole family, children included. Fags in the work place were banned five years ago- er, maybe I should rephrase that, but I think you know what I mean. This too isn't such a bad thing because non-smokers amongst the work force are there all day and breathing in their colleagues second hand blue mist, just like the passive smokers in an eating establishment, isn't optional.

But, from my humble point of view, it's the now sanitised and considerably less busy cafeterias that have lost the most and no longer resemble a snapshot of traditional Spanish life; an impression emphasised by customers being compelled to leave their half drunk brews to huddle in doorways or share body warmth out in the street tapping the ends of various cigarettes into already over full ashtrays. Still, at least the Spanish aren't banished outside in the cold and rain whilst being mugged for a tenner every time they buy a packet of twenty.