GEORGE BUSH ARRESTED FOR ASSAULTING LADY DIANA

The local paper this week led, not with the ongoing carnage and mayhem in Gaza, but with two news items of a quite different kind.

On the one hand, there were the full-page colour pictures of los Reyes Magos celebrations - each one a mini Rio carnival - taking place throughout Spain and costing millions of euros (left). And, on the other, the story of a British man identified as David George Bush, arrested in Malaga on January 6th on charges of alleged assault on his wife, Lady Diana.

The victim, named after the late Princess of Wales and from Ecuador, accused her husband of several episodes of violence, culminating at Christmas when she says he took their children to England, after first beating her up and changing the lock on the door, and threatening to break her leg. Lady Diana, who had been staying with the children at the house of a friend, changed the lock to gain access. When Bush returned earlier than expected from the UK, she alleges she found him again drilling the door to change the lock, watched by their crying children.

When I next see Sra Noriega, I’ll have to ask her if she knows this ‘Lady Diana’ since Sra Noriega prides herself on knowing all the local socialites. All the socialites worth knowing, that is …

JESUS'S ANNUS FABULUS (HE HOPES)

The first Spanish class after the Christmas break and Jesús was in buoyant mood. Ecstatic almost. In fact, after his depressive state towards the end of last year, his mood swings - at times verging on the extreme - would bring to mind, in anyone else, thoughts of bi-polar illness. But Jesús has, after all, been through the mill recently - financially as well as emotionally - so wouldn’t that test anyone’s strength of character, resilience, not to mention mental state?

What he was specifically pleased about was the way he’d been feted by his home town during their annual los Reyes Magos celebrations. Chosen as one of the Three Kings - a huge honour - he laughingly described how, with the help of dancers, magicians and musicians, he'd paraded on his beautifully decorated float through the streets on Monday evening in long processions tossing out handfuls of traditional sweets to the hundreds of assembled children lining the route. When he was a child, he recalled, he’d been glad to catch a sweet or two. Yesterday though all the kids were holding out outsize carrier bags and holdalls to increase their takings. Yet another sign of the credit crunch beginning to bite here?

Another factor that had, somewhat surprisingly, cheered him up was an article he showed us from a local newspaper. It recounted the well-worn stories about town hall corruption, coupled with administrative incompetence, leading to tens of thousands of illegal properties having been built in Spain during the recent boom – 19,000 in Marbella alone. Thousands have been bought by unwitting homeowners, who now live under threat of demolition and are trapped because they can’t sell. One elderly couple even had their Andalusian home demolished before their eyes last January, despite having planning permission from the town hall. And, have been denied any compensation, are still living in a garage without water or electricity.

We all looked at Jesús speculatively. What on earth was there about this news that made him so cheerful?

Well, he replied, at least I’m not trapped for the rest of the year in that illegal apartment under threat of demolition. At least all I lost was my deposit… I’m one of the lucky ones. Yes, this new year is going to be a good one for me. The best ever. I can sense it already…

As we left, none of us spoke. We were all probably having the same thought. About Jesús’s true state of mind.