The Legend Of The Stones: The de Abarca murder case

In the garden there are a number of stones, some of them quite big stones, more like small rocks. There are also a whole load of small stones, observable on the surface of what would normally be called a lawn were it not for it having been divested of the usual grass and having turned the colour of a German tourist. What all these stones have in common is that, for some time now, they have all remained unturned, something that leaves me baffled, as the Balearics delegate, an old friend of this blog Ramon Socias, has said that no stone is being left unturned in the search for crazed murderer Alejandro de Abarca. I say “crazed” because one is expected to use such a word, even if I have no evidence as to his mental state. I also say “murderer” though he has not only not been caught he also not been charged or convicted. But to say anything else wouldn’t have quite the same impact. Like saying that no stone is being left unturned.

My guess is that Sr. Socias didn’t use these precise words, but we are led to believe that he did. Maybe the phrase is in common usage among police forces across Europe and among politicians who must attempt to reassure a nervous public. But the assiduous or otherwise turning of stones appears to be unnecessary in setting the public’s mind at ease. Despite the fact that de Abarca may or may not be holed up in the vicinity, following the discovery of the burnt-out car in Muro with the body of Ana Niculai, his unfortunate victim – or rather, alleged victim – no one is taking much notice. Yet for all we know, he could be only a short distance away in Albufera, hiding under the nearest water buffalo. As he is nicknamed The Dwarf, this is not as far-fetched as it might sound.

Now just think about this for a moment. Killer on the loose. Massive manhunt. Sounds a bit familiar doesn’t it. What isn’t, to a British audience, is that there is a complete absence of hysteria. There is also an absence of British media, wandering along streets with sincere expressions saying that things like this don’t happen here and that this is a tight-knit community. Delegates may resort to clichés but they are the only ones who do. There is also likely to be an absence of any Facebook pages devoted to the “legend”, or “leyenda” if you prefer, of de Abarca. Tempting though it may be to apply a touch of expat snobbery in believing that the British have sole claim on complete stupidity, one finds it hard to think that there is lurking a Spaniard who would make Shannon Matthews’ mother appear to possess an intellect akin to Wittgenstein’s by comparison with the absurd woman behind the Raoul Moat Facebook (and if you’ve not seen/heard it, I implore you to go to You Tube for the interview with Talk Sport’s Ian Collins).

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Going To A Go-Go

Any scam will do. Any way of extracting some moolah. The Unió Mallorquina in Santa Margalida, reports “The Diario”, has denounced what it says is an illegal excursion that takes tourists in Can Picafort to two discos in Cala Rajada for the princely sum of 50 euros a pop. Those who are mad enough to fork this out (there are, after all, perfectly decent discos in Can Picafort and Puerto Alcúdia) get no receipts or guarantees from an operation that changes its departure point and coach company, meaning that it is difficult to track down. The whole thing smacks of a scam. There has been something similar cracking off in Puerto Alcúdia, involving transport to Magalluf, which may be legit but seems to rely on “ticketeros” doing the beaches and selling the trips, which almost certainly isn’t.

 

 

Meantime, the Palma bombs continue to be a talking-point and a fantasy-point. There was meant to have been a bomb in Puerto Alcúdia the day before yesterday, but of course there wasn’t. Understandable though it is that people start seeing bombs where none exist, there is also a fantasy element on behalf of those who want there to be bombs. It’s a curious psychology, but one predicated on the fact that some see themselves somehow as police or potential heroes, imagining the reports in the press of how they saved etc, etc. It is a psychology also that actually wants the unusual. Any bag has a bomb, anyone getting up from a table, even for a moment, and leaving a carrier-bag is a bomber. Of course they are. Bombers do usually just walk in to a bar, order a beer and then ask if they can leave a bomb behind. And here it is: a black ball with two wires sticking out and bomb written on it in big white letters. 

 

“The Bulletin”, bless ’em, had its four or five pages of reporting and tourist vox-pop. The bombs are a godsend, at least it’s news for once rather than front pages devoted to Top Gear or to Michael Douglas. You would hardly expect them to not devote a fair amount of space to them. But this just adds a certain tension and a sense of unreality and of disproportion. No-one was hurt, the devices themselves were not powerful, warnings were issued, even if one relating to the Italian restaurant in Portixol was misinterpreted as the voice was disguised. The bomb there did go off with people still in the restaurant. That wasn’t the intention. Reporting may just fuel the publicity that it is the intention, but to be fair the media would be damned if it didn’t as much as it is damned for doing so.   

 

The police seem nowhere nearer to having a definitive idea as to time frames. The bomb in the Plaça Major in Palma may have been planted on the Saturday or even the Sunday morning; the security cameras seem not to have been working. But there is a counter-theory that all four bombs, and the fourth has now been confirmed, were left some time in advance before perhaps the Palmanova ones. Though given that there is no definitive statement as to when they (the Palmanova ones) were planted, one doesn’t really know. 

 

A poll conducted by Euronews reveals that 32% would change their plans to visit Mallorca following the bombs. No they won’t.

We Haven’t Had That Spirit Here …

“Plucky.” “Dunkirk spirit.” “Bastards.”

There is nothing like a terrorist incident to excite the juices of tabloidism. Let us for Heaven’s sake get Palmanova into proportion. Horrible it may have been, but it simply does not rank in the lists of the truly dreadful. Unusual it may have been for Mallorca, but it was an isolated incident directed at a symbol of the Spanish state.

There is seemingly also nothing like a terrorist incident to excite misinformation and wild rumour. The Chinese whispers have been shouted out. The bomb was at the airport. The airport is closed for days. There are terrorists everywhere, ready to set off further bombs. What if they are about to do something here (as in around Alcúdia)? All of it rubbish. The lockdown of Mallorca for a time and the ongoing police checks are all part of a well-rehearsed contingency plan in the event of an incident. There may have been a lack of vigilance in Palmanova, but there is no lack of foresight in dealing with a terrorist incident. That in itself speaks volumes. The bombing may not have been anticipated, but it was not unexpected. Mallorca may have been spared the terrorist excesses of the peninsula, but it is still Spain; Palma was once widely thought to have been a target for Al-Qaeda, even for Saddam Hussein, which just goes to show the sort of exaggerated garbage that gets trotted out but also the fact that Mallorca has not been excluded in the past from possible attack.

The tabloid reporting has been to an extent sensationalist and out of proportion, but locally it is understandable. Nevertheless, it was “The Sun” what did it with the use of “plucky”. I honestly didn’t believe that the paper did actually use the adjective. I had assumed it was a parody. But no. “Plucky British holidaymakers” were defying the terrorists, blah, blah. These plucky tourists were determined to still be heading for the beaches or the bars, and the Spanish press reported that things in Palmanova were all pretty much normal, yet “The Bulletin” showed a “desolated” beach, suggesting that everyone was staying away, a report that ran counter to others. Who do you believe? ‘Twas ever thus with the press.

Those plucky Brits referred to having lived with the IRA. It’s a tired comparison and justification, but there is some sense to it. And you can chuck in post-9/11 as well. Quite why British tourists should feel the need to cancel holidays or to try and get on the first flight out is unfathomable. Palmanova is, I suppose, a shock for those in Mallorca who have not known terrorism at relative first-hand, such as those of us who have lived in London for example. It is why, I guess, the hyperbole works overtime. Paradise lost. Paradise shattered. All that. Perhaps Palmanova has, though, made people realise that there is such a thing as reality, one that many seem to have forgotten existed or one that they were unaware existed at all. But one keeps coming back to what actually happened. It may sound callous, heartless or as though I am wilfully seeking to understate the significance of the attack, but in the terrorist scheme of things only the location is particularly surprising, the actual attack is not. ETA have made a habit of targetting the Guardia, which is not to suggest that the dead officers should have expected to have been blown up, but there should have been an awareness that a Palmanova could happen. Mallorca had seemed immune because of terrorist logistics, but the fact that there is now talk of there being or having been (for some weeks) an ETA cell on the island and of a safe house does again bring into question the role of intelligence.

Contrary to an impression that has been conveyed, there are not people wandering around weeping, being solemn or in a state of shock. People are talking, of course they are, but often talking in order to tell others to give it all a rest and to stop making more of the incident than it merits. There is also a fair degree of annoyance with the press, not least “The Bulletin” and its ludicrous appeal for a “Dunkirk spirit”. One does actually despair of some of the reaction. It needs to be measured, it needs perspective. It does not need emotional language that serves only to ratchet up feelings and to heighten fears unnecessarily.

Shit happens, even in so-called paradise. They probably called Bali a paradise, and Palmanova does not come anywhere close to that in terms of scale or horror. It can happen and does happen. Anywhere.