Talking to my Monday evening Spanish ladies about finding a new partner, I said the good news was I had the two things most sought by women in a man. I meant, of course, money and breath but, when asked what I was talking about, their consensus was ‘blue eyes’. Interestingly, while I was joking, I don’t think they were. Life should be so simple.

It must be spring. El Pais has had a series of articles on the scourge of Spain’s huge (and still growing) prostitution industry. Which reminds me, I see another ‘club’ has opened on the outskirts of Pontevedra, on the old road down from Ourense. So I guess all the adverse publicity isn't working.

Talking about crisis-beating businesses, I noticed today that, while shops and even bank branches are closing around us, two more up-market bars opened this week in Pontevedra. And this in a city already renowned for the ratio of bars to just about everything else. Can this really be because the many public sector workers here are cosseted from and impervious to economic developments elsewhere?

The other day I wondered out loud what the secret was of getting things done here. But this was disingenuous; I already knew it was to go native and piggy-back on the network of personal relationships of everyone I knew. And, as I result, this week I’ve already had two plumbers visit me and give me an estimate for immediate work and I’m having to fight off a third. As I’ve said before, people here owe no duty of care to strangers but an immense duty of care to family, friends and friends-of-friends. Using the personal connections arising from these, obstacles can always be hurdled and queues jumped. Levels of efficiency leap upwards. And you can even get people to phone you back. Of course, it helps to be a sociable, outgoing sort of person and, in Galicia for example, to speak Spanish. If not, you’re likely to find Spain a frustrating place and, if thinking of coming here, would be best advised to live in those parts of the country which are no longer Spanish. By which I mean the foreign enclaves, of course. It’s quite possible that a first come, first served system operates in these. For a price.

Finally, I note that the Speaker of the House of Commons becomes the President when the institution is translated into Spanish. But, then, almost everyone is a president of something here. Even if it’s just a community of neighbours. Of course, my border collie, Ryan, is the President of my house.