Today we took a trip into Malaga. Apparently it’s a city as well an airport. Who knew? One of Rach and Tibu’s friends (they actually have more than one friend. Show offs) had suggested that because the traffic and parking were so bad in Malaga city centre we park at Plaza Mayor which is a big shopping centre near the airport and get the metro in. The metro was only opened this year and so is all shiny and new. Multilingual ticket machines, clean seats and tannoy announcements in Spanish and English. Well I say English.
They have one of those computerised jobbies where key phrases are stuck in and then assembled to make an announcement. However they seemed to be having problems so we ended up with the announcement. Passenger. Announcement. Would. All. Trains. Please. Keep. Their. Tickets. While. On. The. Train. As a child I always wanted to be Thomas the Tank Engine but not for a few years now. To misquote Eric Morecambe it was a classic case of all the right words, not necessarily in the right order.
The main purpose of our trip was to go the Picasso museum. Now I wasn’t sure if I liked Picasso much before I started and after the first couple of galleries I still wasn’t sure, but eventually I got it. You have to remember 2 things about Picasso:
1 – He sees people’s faces as a baby would, so all big and distorted. Normally when someone says they have a “childish” style I just take that as meaning they are no good. (I have the writing of a 10 year old. My handwriting that is. My writing style is more akin to that of a 5 year old). But this sort of makes his pictures make more sense.
2 – Just because he can’t see a body part doesn’t mean that he can’t paint it. So just because he’s painting your face, he knows that you are sat on your bottom so he paints that as well. Usually next to your right eye, which may be just below your left nostril. As Karen put it “all the right body parts, not necessarily in the right place”.
I think Picasso was inspired by (or perhaps he inspired) those models you get of, say a house which comes as a flat piece of cardboard. You then insert tab A into slot B to create a 3 dimensional model. Picasso has just done that in reverse. However if he did design one of those models you would still find the back door by the front upstairs bedroom window and the chimney stack where the garage should be.
After we left the museum we went for lunch. We settled in to a small bar when I noticed something odd on the other side of the road. A lady in a straw hat was chatting to a couple of German tourists. My fleece radar was on red alert. I could see they were going to part with money somehow but I just couldn’t determine exactly how. 5 minutes later we found out. She had strapped a guitar on and was serenading the lunch time diners…whether they wanted to be serenaded or not. Her singing style was quite unique as well (I’m using the word unique here in the same way that some of the auditionees on the X Factor have unique voices. More confidence than talent if you get my drift).
Now we immediately adopted the correct procedure in these situations. No eye contact. No jigging in your seat and absolutely no applause. After she had done her unique interpretations of My Way and a couple of popular Spanish tunes, when Rach and Tibu nearly broke the no jigging rule, the ordeal was over. Except for the hat coming around.
By this point our eyes are firmly fixed on our plates but she seemed to hone in on Tibu and thrust a basket in his face. I mean really in his face. I think it made contact with his cheek. But after all these years in Britain, Tibu stood firm and knew that if he ignored her and just carried on eating (around the basket) she would leave. She didn’t. It was a Mexican stand off. (Well a Spanish one really).
Alas he caved in and begrudgingly threw some coppers into her basket and she left us in peace. I fear though that now Britain’s got talent can be won by Hugarians, she will shortly be making her way to our shores to thrust her basket the way of Simon Cowell.