April 12, 2009


Those of you who’ve survived the trek through the unkempt undergrowth of previous posts (fortified by numerous St Bernards and assorted hip flasks), will know I like Andalusia. On the whole.

You may recall, I reluctantly left the various treasures and pleasures of London to join P who adores Andalusia. (To paraphrase Graham Greene, I’ll call him the ‘Quiet Andalusian’ - a blatantly glaring oxymoron given the cacophonous volubility of new friends and neighbours.)

So here, then, I found myself - far from family, friends and civilisation - living seemingly in isolation on the edge of Europe and sanity! And so too was born this blog (and fatal addiction - blogging now almost a default way of life), Life on the Edge - geographically and psychologically…

I mention above I like Andalusia on the whole. Why the qualification? Well, much as there is to admire here - the people, the less-premature-early-death lifestyle and obviously the climate - there’s one fact that doesn’t rock my boat. Namely corruption. Specifically the brand practised by our local officials.
In fact, anyone perusing British newspapers this past year won’t have failed to notice headlines bemoaning the illegalities and underlying corruption formerly (and still?) endemic in certain sections of Spanish life. Something I’ve written about at length in countless earlier posts with reference to the never-ending trials in Andalusia in general, Marbella in particular.

But that’s all changed! Not the corruption, you understand. But the targets of all those lengthy criminal investigations. Now it’s not just local officials that have been fingered by the police but the POLICE themselves!

It’s just been reported in the local press that a chief inspector, an assistant chief inspector and two officers with the National Police force and a civil guard are to be tried in nearby Ronda for, yes, you guessed… corruption. All are accused of turning a blind eye to the activities of three brothels in the town in exchange for sexual favours and, on some occasions, money from the foreign women (Russians, Albanians, Bulgarians) who worked in them. Also to go on trial are five others including not only the managers of the brothels but a local judge’s ex boyfriend!

The officers themselves are accused of, amongst other felonies, bribery, money laundering, sexual abuse while in public service, failure to follow up crimes, trafficking, favouring prostitution and so on…

All in all, a fair cop, gov?

FOOTNOTE: Must break off now - having Spanish friends to lunch and afternoon tea. P’s doing the lunch bit (quite nifty with the spatula is P) and I’ve been put (by him) in charge of the tea thingie. Problem is I’ve never baked hot cross buns before. To be honest, never baked much before - but he doesn’t know that. Will by the end of the day.

Next instalment of Kitchen Nightmares exclusively on this site (don’t tell Gordon - I’ve met him and though he was perfectly charming, nonetheless still frightens me to death...)


Anonymous said...

It seems to me that word people such as you (and me, to a lesser extent) should not be forced to bake. Ever. It creates a disturbance in the force and a possible disaster in the kitchen. This is the voice of experience speaking here. But I do hope your hot cross buns beat the odds and turned out okay.

Nora Johnson said...

Pinklea: Thank you for your kind words. They make me feel contented & soothed - so welcome after yesterday's, how shall I put it, EXPERIENCE.

I couldn't agree with you more about the baking issue (as does P now too) and as soon as I pick myself up from the floor (plus other bits & pieces), I'll post the result + pics.

But Pinklea, be prepared! Forewarned is forearmed - it won't be a pretty sight nor one for the faint-hearted or those on an empty stomach.

In the meantime, thank you again for the warm, calming words washing over me like a belated Easter present!

And regards to beautiful Vancouver as always!