Dawn

Dawn

Thursday, October 23, 2008

I received in the mail today a photo of the back of my car and an assertion the driver of it had committed a speeding offence in a street in north Santiago I've no recollection of ever being in. Allegedly, this happened in February, eight months ago, but there's nothing on the the photo tying it to the separately-detailed information on time and speed. Maybe there'll be a second photo providing some sort of proof once I've admitted it can only have been me in the car. I certainly hope so as, otherwise, the system would be wide open to abuse. Especially in difficult times when, as I've said, councils are desperately seeking replacement revenues from any conceivable source. Meanwhile, though, the incident certainly backs up yesterday's comment that justice moves slowly here.

As it happens, this would be only my second infraction in more than 40 years of driving, Some readers may recall the first was in January of this year. So two offences within a month of each other. I'm beginning to feel persecuted. Perhaps I'd better drop the comments about the recklessness of some Spanish drivers. And the regular references to my near-death experiences on the 12-24 zebra crossings I negotiate each day.

But only a fool thinks life is fair and the better personal news is that, although my Catalan neighbours haven't spoken a word to me in 8 years, they appear to be affording me free WiFi internet access. So they can't be all bad. Meanwhile, on the other side Tony is back from the sea and is bawling at his best. Swings and roundabouts, I guess.

Finally - For some reason, hits to my blog today rose from an average of around 200 to more than 300. Which is a tad ironic, as I rather felt I couldn't come up with anything interesting to comment on. Though I will leave you with the advice than pigging yourself on horseradish sauce has much the same effect as consuming all the garlic-rich oil in which zamburiñas al ajillo are cooked - a night much disturbed by hallucinatory dreams and a practical consequence which reminded me of the joke about the mechanic who drank the fuel from a Concorde plane and was glad the following morning he hadn't lit a match during the night.

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