tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110873829655511995.post8909133221706149005..comments2023-06-10T00:01:59.851+02:00Comments on Thoughts from a Mountain: The noblest prospect a right-minded Englishman living in Seville ever sees is the road that leads him to anywhere outside that particular nest of complacent narrow-mindedness.He Who Talks Bollockshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15279294907163329157noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110873829655511995.post-14682142365839072122020-04-19T22:12:45.417+02:002020-04-19T22:12:45.417+02:00Many years ago I was contracted to teach English t...Many years ago I was contracted to teach English to MPs in the Andalusian Regional Parliament. One day I was waiting in an empty meting room, having just requested a whiteboard and some marker pens, when in walked an unkempt. snaggle-toothed ratty-bearded individual, so I told him to bring in the whiteboard and set it up. He just looked at me with bemusement, so I repeated the request a bit more forcefully. This time he told me he was XXXX XXXX XXXX, a regional MP and Stalinist Mayor/Dictator of a town in the middle of the the province of Seville (over 20 years later, he's still hanging on in power over the tiny People's Republic of Marinaleda). Only then did I notice that this scruffily-attired individual (who anyone could have mistaken for a general gofer or English teacher) was wearing Armani jeans, a Ralph Lauren checked shirt and a pair of Nike trainers that only Jeff Bezos could afford. Man of the people? My arse. But it just shows how first impressions can be deceptive.He Who Talks Bollockshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15279294907163329157noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110873829655511995.post-39641562366862760942013-04-15T08:18:31.704+02:002013-04-15T08:18:31.704+02:00Though I spent some time in Seville (and the image...Though I spent some time in Seville (and the image of the privileged drinking behind fences at the Feria rings a bell), I have never been to Cadiz. It will be interesting to see what you make of it in future posts.<br /><br />Politeness, it seems to me, is disappearing everywhere. When people do say "excuse me" or "thank you", it now comes as a pleasant surprise. One of my pet hates is the way people barge into you with bags and cases. While there might be some slight excuse for this in the confined conditions of the bus or the tube, there is none out in the street where people, despite having room to pass without making contact, nevertheless come so close as to hit me with their baggage and then pass on without a word. This behaviour mystifies me even more than it annoys me.<br /><br />Your possibly being taken for an apprentice wino reminds me of the day I went to a local charity that distributes clothes the the needy. I was taking some old garments we no longer needed. As I stood there uncertainly while folk scrabbled among the stock, a charity worker emerged from the back of the shop, looked me up and down and asked "Have you come for clothes?" <br /><br />This sartorial challenge unnerved me further so that I muttered "No, I've brought some", dropped my bag and fled!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com