West of the Town

Friday 27 March 2015

Goodbye Tapas

Thursday night, and that is Martos' night for going out. On Friday people go home, like me.

And for the foreseeable future, this will be the last time. So I went out by invitation to sample some Tapas in the way only the Spanish know how.

The 9pm start was a special early concession for me. And a very pleasant evening still ended at half past midnight.

Now I know that Tapas is standard stuff in Spain, but when I try to order it I find it difficult to chose good dishes. On a night out with the "team" the dishes come fast and frequently. "Do you order all these or do they just come?" I asked. It appears that some are ordered, and others just arrive with the drinks. There was certainly a good verity.

The photo attached is missing one guest and has less Tapas on show, but it is the one where we were all smiling! And, of course, I was the wrong side of the camera.

When I arrived at the hotel, the door was locked. I rang the bell. Juan is on duty all night and he soon arrived and let me in. What time is this? He asked pointing to his watch. The ladies (wife & daughter) were wondering where you were.

I explained as he steered me through to the bar. He presented me with a wrapped memento of my 2 years of staying there. And he made me unwrap it so that he could show it to me. It was a presentation clock with my name and nice things written in Spanish on it.

It certainly will be a good reminder of the hotel, but also, as he put it, my adopted Spanish family in Martos.

It was more "leaving" than I felt able to cope with.

Terry
Envoyé de mon iPhone

Wednesday 18 March 2015

Orange

Here is a photo if some oranges on a tree. In fact there are 4 trees, all heavily covered in large oranges.

And nobody has picked them.

Indeed, they fall to the ground and are left there. I commented on this, and there is a secret that the Spanish know that I did not.

The oranges are inedible.

Why anyone would grow inedible oranges I cannot guess, but from the looks of things, these fruit are totally useless. No one ever gathers them.

For the trivial persuiters, did you know that the colour orange did NOT give the name to the fruit? In fact it was the other way round. The fruit defined the colour orange and so distinguished that hue of "red"! The word orange was a fruit first.

Perhaps the first fruits were all inedible and in this way they made the word more useful?

Terry
Envoyé de mon iPhone

Sunday 15 March 2015

Franglais and all that

There are, I notice, lots of French words in the English language. I sense that the English rather enjoy it. And whilst most of the French people I know appear to use English words when it is convenient, I also hear French voices raised in a passionate, sometimes almost shrill, objection.

Protection of French-ness it would appear.

So it was with some interest that I noticed an article in the free paper "20 minutes" entitled " On parle tous « franglais », so what?" (We all speak franglais, so what?)

The argument in 5 steps went something like this:

▪ because it's too late
▪ because you should not ban all franglais
▪ because France is weighed down if you do
▪ because it is a "win win situation"
▪ because certain anglismes disappear

I was particularly interested in the section under "win win". I have long been of the opinion that much of our English has 2 sources. Hence "Anglo-Saxon". And this has assisted me in picking up French as a language. I started to use posh English words with a French accent for anything I didn't know. It doesn't always work, but then again it is successful more often than you might expect.

I reasoned that this came down to a certain Frenchman in 1066 becoming king. So it was with interest that I read the following:

■ «Amour propre », « cliché », « déjà-vu » sont quelques-uns des mots intégrés à la langue anglaise, rappelle Paul-Romain Larreya, Et ce depuis 1066, quand la bataille d'Hastings ouvrait à Guillaume le Conquérant le chemin de Londres.

■ «Amour propre », « cliché », « déjà-vu » are some words integrated into the English language, recalls PRL, ever since 1066 when the battle of Hastings opened to William the Conqueror the road to London.

Exactly.
But now it is not just me who thinks so.

It appears that French has also acquired some English. William must have gone home from time to time. 


Terence Westoby


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