Life in Cartagena

We hunkered down in front of the telly in a bar last night with copious quantities of alcoholic beverage on hand and an oversupply of small rolls crammed with pig products. We were right at the very front of the room only a couple of metres from the huge telly. The telly hung on a mirrored wall so we could see what was going on in the bar behind us. As the game progressed and the home team seemed unable to gain its normal rhythm the punters in the bar got quieter and quieter and faces glummer and glummer. Fortunately the Portuguese, Britains's oldest allies, seemed to be afflicted with the same problem as England and had sufficient difficulty in kicking a football into the back of a net from 12 miserable yards away. And maybe that man Casillas had a small part to play too. The celebrations, at least in the middle of town, were surprisingly low key. Sunday then.

We live right in the centre of Cartagena, I mean right in the middle. First to pass by our street this evening were the Gay Pride crew to celebrate the end of a week's celebrations for Gay Pride Day. Men in high heels, rainbow flags everywhere and, of course the anthems by Gloria Gaynor and the Village People. Then it was La Roja, the Spanish Selection, the Spanish National Football team taking on the French in the European Cup. The bar at the end of the street has a huge telly outside. Oohs and aahs from the crowd and when the ball ended up in the back of the net the National Anthem. Then the Anthem again. And when it was all over the fireworks started because tonight is San Juan. The celebrations for the longest day/shortest night. I suspect it will be a loud night.

Compared with mint tea half way up Everest or sucking down fish head soup in Vietnam I suppose Spanish bars are pretty tame. Nonetheless, drinking and eating in one last night I was reminded of how vibrant they often are. In amongst the tumult and background noise that every Spaniard copes with by simply talking, or shouting, a little louder we had the extra fun of the din produced by the Real Madrid - Bayern Munich game. And there we were. Not an unusual situation for us nor for the four Spanish people we were with but we had two other Britons with us, a couple of teachers from a school in the UK which is partnered up with Maggie's school here in Cartagena. The visitors were being entertained. We were out for a snack. As always when out with a biggish bunch of Spaniards to eat tapas someone ends up making all the food decisions. Yesterday I suspect that the chap who thought he was in charge of the order had actually ceded control to the waitress but nobody really minded as l...

Ventura and me Ventura is a pal of ours. He often turns up at the door of the flat bearing some local delicacy. Last week it was one of the traditional varieties of Cartagena Christmas buns, cordiales, and the week before it was piles and piles of toast. He's lived in Cartagena for a long time and he knows lots of people. They give him things and he hands on the excess to poor unfortunates like us. We know Ventura, Buenaventura Albaladejo Meseguer, to give him his full name, because he taught at the school Maggie now teaches at. His past is intimately linked with the development of football in Cartagena. He turned up at the door tonight to ask if I fancied a beer. He had a friend in tow. One of his old footballing pals. They were killing time before watching a footie match on the telly between Barcelona B and Almería. It didn't sound like a big match to me. More Halifax Town v Blyth Spartans than Espanyol v Atlético. We had the beer outside "el Pani" a local...

You have no idea how the game between Barcelona and Real Madrid galvanises this country unless you've seen it. The papers and TV have been full of it for at least a week. The elections in Catalonia, the threat of financial meltdown are as nothing in comparison to the Barça - Real debate. I popped into a bar at around 6pm this evening to get a coffee. Bar stools had reserved stickers on them and some people were already in their seats. Kick off was at 9pm. I suspect there will be some sore heads in Catalonia and all over Spain tomorrow morning.