Life in Cartagena

So, I'm in the waiting room in the health centre at eight in the morning. The process for taking blood is quick, a production line. There are maybe thirty of us in the room. I'm sitting there with my left leg crossed over my right. I shuffle, right over left. I'm reading. As the electronic scoreboard closes in on my number I lose interest in the book and my gaze wanders around the room. I am the only person with my legs crossed. Everyone else, young and old, male and female has their legs akimbo - both feet firmly planted on the floor. I mentioned this to Carlos. I asked other Spaniards. Amazingly they confirmed, with plenty of exceptions and extra detail, that crossing ones legs is not very Spanish. I still don't really think it's true. Interesting if it were though.

I've not felt so well over the last week or so. Mostly the regular aches and pains that come from late season sniffles and colds but  this time there was something new on top. So, for only the second time since we first arrived here I feel the need to talk to a doctor. Despite a recent wave of cost cutting there's a good, generally free, state medical system in Spain. Dentistry, for adults, isn't included and there are prescription charges but it's basically free. Oh, there must be charges for prostheses too because there was a recent news story about some lad who had his modern splint replaced by a plaster cast when he couldn't pay the charge. Lots of Spaniards seem to choose to take out relatively inexpensive private health cover as well but mainly for queue jumping rather than quality reasons. Parallels with the British National Health System are pretty obvious. Anyway I'm registered with the health service in my home community - la Communidad Valencian...

Thirty five years ago I was fed up of wearing glasses and I wanted contact lenses. The optician told me how my dreadful astigmatism and generally poor eyesight made lenses a nonsense. He sold me a nice pair of specs. But, later that afternoon, rich enough at the time to bear an expensive mistake, I went back, cancelled the specs and ordered lenses instead. I still wear them. I did try to get some new ones here a few years ago. Long story but I'm still wearing a pair I bought in the UK before I left. Time to get some new ones. The optician's shop looked like any other. Rows of spectacle frames on display, businesslike, clean. It turned out that the contact lens section was in some huge cavernous basement. The person who took me there was wearing all white kit - white top, white skirt, white shoes. She also had straw coloured wavy hair. She handed me over to a woman who was wearing all white kit - white top, white trousers, white shirt. In fact all the female staff were dre...

Life in Spain has been very ordinary for the last couple of weeks and we've not done anything very bloggable for a while. This entry is really to prove that I'm still here; it may not be worth your time reading it. The local elections are coming up in May and the campaigns are beginning to hot up. I will be voting in the town elections in Pinoso but I can't vote in the regional elections. I'm not quite sure why and I decided yesterday evening as I was reading about some dodgy political dealing in the paper that I should make a little protest about that. After all one of the basic rights or responsibilities within a democracy is the right to representation through the ballot box. I get to vote in national elections in the UK and the locals and Europeans here but I am denied a vote at regional level in both countries. Time to get in touch with my European representative I think. Another one of those basic rights written into the Spanish Constitution is the right to he...