The Consumption of Spanish Time: Chapter 65.

Entering the main branch of Banco Santander this morning to pay my latest speeding fine, I couldn’t help but notice that, although (unusually) all the tellers were working, there were 22 people ahead of me in a single-file queue that didn’t seem to be moving at all. After five minutes, this had reduced to 21 and there were now around 10 people behind me, stretching into the street. So I left, to seek an explanation from a nearby Spanish friend. She pointed out that, as it’s the first day of the month, people were drawing out their cash for the next four weeks, following the payment of their salaries and pensions. When I asked why they didn’t use the ATMs, she said many people didn’t like doing this. Especially the purse-string-holding denizens of the outlying villages.

So, leaving this task for another time, I set off – under a burning sun – for the Suzuki dealer in the far north of the city, to take a look at their hatchbacks. I’d got the address off the internet and duly found the place not far from the college where I give a ‘conversation class’ on Monday evenings. Foolishly, though, I’d failed to call the number on the web page to check the company was still in business and so found the showrooms empty and the windows plastered with For Sale signs.

I have a rule of thumb here that, if I set off to do three things, a good average is just one of these. Obviously, with only two items on my list this morning, I was never going to hit this. However, this evening my insurance company did confirm they’ll bear the cost of towing my car to whichever scrapyard is willing to take it. On the other hand, in the process they advised there’d be no refund of my premium – paid only a month ago – if I cancelled the policy. Nor would they reduce the premium if any new car I insured with them was smaller. Now that’s customer-oriented service for you.

But I did get the plumber who defaulted on his promise to come last week to apologise for this and to say he’ll definitely do so before the end of Wednesday this week. But will call me in advance to confirm.

And I was not killed this morning by the octogenarian lady who slowly and deliberately drove round me as I was negotiating one of the zebra crossings on my way into town.

So, it’s not all bad news on the home front.

On the wider front, there’s a lot to comment on. But I’m just too dispirited to bother. Please smile among yourselves.