I trained to Vigo today. And back, of course. Once you leave the outskirts of Pontevedra and before you enter those of Vigo, this must rank as one of the prettiest short journeys in the world. And, as everyone knows, it runs along the bay into which the Nautilus sailed in search of the booty which dropped to the bottom when British and Dutch ships destroyed the Spanish bullion fleet (and its French escort) in the Battle of Rande in 1702. All of which seemed at least 300 years away as I revelled in the setting sun on the way back home.

The most practical advice I can give anyone when coming to live in Spain is - Always carry reading matter. The validity of this was demonstrated again this evening, when I discovered that the 20.25 train runs on only two days of the year. Christmas Day and New Year's Day. That old small print again.

Anyway, the purpose of the lunch was to bid a fond farewell to a lady who's been - in various guises - an outstanding feature of Vigo for quite a while but who's now taking her charms to Madrid. She's requested that I advise here that, if you go to the Ann Summers web page and insert the words "bad" and "boy" into the search facility, you should learn a lot more than you possibly wanted to know about the male G spot. As I haven't done this and don't know what's to be found there, I must here disclaim all responsibility for any shock or disgust it might occasion those who do.