Tourism Without Tourists

If you were Mallorcan and were of an age to be going to university, you might fancy a few years at the Universitat de les Illes Balears studying tourism. The university has a strong reputation for tourism, Mallorca’s main industry is tourism, so a degree should set you up nicely. Or so you might think.

There is a fair old debate going on as to the value of the tourism degree. It has been criticised for not being orientated to the tourism market itself, while obtaining a degree appears to be no guarantee of getting a job any grander than that of receptionist, assuming a job can be got at all.

It’s a familiar story of course, and one not solely confined to a tourism degree or to university studies in Mallorca. But tourism is after all what Mallorca does, and the number of places on the degree course is not that high (400), so you would indeed think that something decent, career-wise, might come at the end of it.

Picking over the bones of the debate, however, another criticism emerges, and it is one of the choice of the course in the first place. Tourism, a bit like teaching (or certainly how teaching once was in the UK), is a career to get into mainly because it’s there. It is a default choice. But it would seem that students embark on the degree not really appreciating what it entails.

I’m not surprised they aren’t aware what the course involves. The document which sets it out runs to an excruciating 247 pages of tables, flowcharts and verbiage. Students, either before or during their studies, are not generally inclined to read what they are meant to; I can say this with some authority, as I certainly never did.

Even assuming they do read it, what do they expect to get from the course? The simple answer is a good job. But what job? This is the nub of the problem, or one of the nubs.

One can draw a comparison between tourism and publishing. I have been asked in the past for advice about “getting into publishing”, to which the response has always been – what do you mean by publishing? It’s the same with tourism; what is meant by it and what is meant by jobs within the industry?

Were students to read the entire prospectus for the course, they might get an inkling. Without detailing the whole course, some of its key modules cover marketing, management, finance, law and languages. English and either French or German are mandatory, but previous reports on the English-speaking abilities of students leaving the university suggest that two-thirds of them struggle with the language to the point of not understanding it.

But this isn’t necessarily surprising. A multi-disciplinary tourism course makes its students Jacos of several trades and maestros of none, other than tourism, or so they might believe.

Yet, amidst the law and the management of the course, there is something which is glaring by its omission. Nowhere does there appear to be anything about the tourist himself. You can learn about some mechanics and operations of tourism but nothing about what it’s like to be a tourist. Arguably, this is what the course should be about. Students in Mallorca may have some idea of what it’s like to be a tourist, if they have been one, but can have no appreciation of what it’s like to be a tourist in Mallorca or little appreciation of the cultures and backgrounds of the people they would hope to be make a living off.

Where are, for example, cultural studies in the tourism course? Cultural studies of the British, the Germans, the Russians or whoever. You come back, therefore, to the criticism that the course is not orientated to the market and therefore the people – the tourists – who make up the market.

Tourism is ultimately about people and understanding their needs and demands. I can think of managers in hotels in Mallorca who certainly didn’t study tourism in their home countries, if they studied at university at all. They came to Mallorca and got jobs in the likes of entertainment. And because they were any good, they rose a managerial ladder. Crucially, though, they know about tourists and tourists from different cultures.

I can sympathise, however, with the students. The course seems like a reflection of much of what passes for a general debate about Mallorca’s tourism. It is one in which tourism is somehow remote from its raw material, the tourists themselves. It’s extraordinary, as though there is tourism but without tourists.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Personal Touch: Culture of service in Mallorca

Vince Cable is interested in introducing a plan for employee share-ownership at Royal Mail, when or if it is ever privatised. It’s all about instilling a change of culture in the organisation. Cable sees John Lewis as a model. It sounds fair enough, but it isn’t as simple as handing over some share certificates.

The John Lewis Partnership can be traced back to 1919. The company’s culture of service and participation is that historical and ingrained that it is, in effect, what the company is. To give an example of the challenge at Royal Mail, I heard a radio discussion about the plan in which the courtesy of a John Lewis van driver was compared with the two-fingered snottiness of a Royal Mail driver. The point is that the John Lewis “spirit” penetrates every last bit of the company’s operations.

Giving out shares is, in truth, an artificial way of trying to engender a different culture. It’s almost like a bribe, a financial incentive to create success without the bedrock of inner strength and values – a bit like Manchester City, without a culture of achievement, looking to usurp Manchester United, which has, with the promise of riches. It shouldn’t be necessary. A rotten culture is rarely the fault of staff; the blame nearly always lies at the top.

Not long after he became the head of the Fomento del Turismo (aka the Mallorca Tourism Board), Pedro Iriondo spoke in “The Bulletin” about bygone days of a personal touch and smiling, happy people greeting tourists. What he also spoke about was that this personal style, this culture, had to start from the top of the tourism trade and cascade downwards. He was not wrong.

Much is sometimes made of indifferent service and attitudes by those in Mallorca’s tourism frontline. We can all cite examples of the good or the bad. Just to give one of the former, I happened to go into the Sis Pins hotel in Puerto Pollensa the other day. I was not a guest, but the beaming and charming greeting was enough to convince me that did I wish to be a guest, then I would be so with full confidence. And this was not forced, it was totally natural, suggesting an atmosphere, a culture if you prefer, of Sr. Iriondo’s personal touch. There are plenty of other examples, just as good.

But then there is the bad, made worse by a propensity for those suffering the “bad” to rush off to the internet and tell the world. To suggest that poor service or attitude can be totally eliminated is a nonsense, but perhaps Mallorca has indeed, as Sr. Iriondo has suggested, lost some of its personal touch, lost some of a culture of welcoming. Unlike Royal Mail, which starts from base camp, Mallorca is still well up the mountain, just that it needs to get back to the peak.

Part of the problem may well lie with simple terminology. “Tourists”. A generic term and a sometimes pejorative one, which implies a breed apart, one that is a part of Mallorca and yet is separate from it, one that is removed from the process of Mallorca and yet which is fundamental to it. “Tourists” cease to be individuals and become resources moving along a production line, causing it to be forgotten that they are holidaymakers, with all this term implies in respect of the “fun” of holiday, and also guests. Forgotten not just by some businesses and their staff but by everyone.

In Alcúdia, there is an annual tourist day. It is a good idea and a successful event, but it is inherently contradictory. Is every day not a tourist day? When Sr. Iriondo referred to the “top”, he wasn’t completely right, in that – in organisational terms – it is the tourist who should be at the top of the pyramid; everyone else is in a support role, and by everyone I mean everyone. It is the John Lewis culture writ large, even down to courtesy by drivers.

Of course, embracing everyone in such a culture is an impossibility. It could only be achieved were there an authoritarian regime, commanding the populace to smile nicely and hug a tourist. Yet there used to exist something of that type of regime, at a time in the past to which Sr. Iriondo has alluded. Along the way, something got lost, the result of familiarity, routine, a greater politicisation of the tourism issue and increased wealth. It might also be a consequence of tourists themselves, or some of them; those who do not apply their own responsibilities as guests. Patience can be stretched to the limits at times.

Nevertheless, for the majority of visitors, things do need to come down from the top, be it in bars, restaurants, shops, hotels or wherever, or from the tourism ministry and organisations. Perhaps just a bit of the spend that is made on promotion could be diverted to some “internal” marketing to the staff, as in everyone in Mallorca. A reminder that each tourist is a guest and is unique, and deserves a culture in which he or she is made to feel welcome by all. Mallorca is not the Royal Mail, but were it to be John Lewis then whatever shortcomings the island may have compared with its shiny new competitors would be compensated for – through the personal touch.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

White Stripes: Why did the tourist cross the road?

Sledging in cricket has produced some fine moments of insult. One of the most famous exchanges went along these lines … Bowler inciting batsman who was not hitting the ball: “it’s red, round, in case you were wondering”; batsman responding, having hit the next ball out of the ground: “you know what it looks like, now go and find it”. The true origins of sledges have tended to become confused. This one is sometimes attributed to South Africa’s Shaun Pollock and Australia’s Ricky Ponting, which is almost certainly wrong. More commonly, it is attributed to Greg Thomas of Glamorgan and the West Indies’ Viv Richards. Not that it really matters. This is not an article on sledging.

The sledge has, though, occurred to me when driving along the local main roads. It would be something like: “it’s white, striped, now walk on it.”

The re-modelling of the main road (Carretera Arta) through Puerto Alcúdia and Playa de Muro and ever eastwards is to enter its third phase in October when the grotty thoroughfare in Can Picafort is given a similar makeover. The whole scheme has been about giving priority to pedestrians, and to a large extent it has been successful in this aim. What has not been wholly successful has been convincing pedestrians to use the white stripes and the non-striped islands as the means of crossing the road.

Bone idleness, especially while on holiday, is pretty much a given, but the planners have failed to comprehend this. True, it might bring traffic to a complete halt were there to be crossings every ten metres – you can have only so many of them, and doubtless they’d still be ignored anyway – but there are some points along the road where the non-crossing is glaring and potentially dangerous. One of the most striking is near to the Palma roundabout on the Playa de Muro-Alcúdia boundary. The Marítimo hotel is just before this roundabout. There is an island a few metres to the left where one comes out of the hotel to cross the road. Who uses it? No one. It’s in the wrong place, assuming one accepts the bone idleness theory, and I am who subscribes to it. I don’t use the crossing either. Another example is given by the hordes who head out of the Delfin Azul and Port d’Alcudia hotels. The straight line to the beach is halfway between two islands. Consequently, they are also unused.

Why did they undertake the road remodelling in the first place? It was to make the road safer. But how can it be described thus, when there are pedestrians, centre road, waving damn great lilos around and attached to the ubiquitous baby-buggy? The buggy has become that de rigueur that one wonders whether it is used solely for the transporting of infants or whether it houses all the other paraphernalia without which no day on the beach would be complete. Whatever. I am uneasy as I pass a family or several in mid road whilst a truck or coach approaches in the opposite direction. And woe betide if you stop to allow them to cross. Inevitably it takes an age for them to appreciate the fact that you have stopped for that purpose, and meanwhile matey-boy behind is getting into a strop.

When they re-do the road in Can Picafort, they’ll probably make the same mistakes, such as the beautification of the Playa de Muro stretch with its crossings where emerging pedestrians are obscured from drivers’ vision by parked cars, hedges and palm trees and the failure to prevent the inner roads parallel to the carretera from being used as rapid rat runs. One can but hope, though. The current system of Can Picafort crossings and side roads into which or out of which you can neither enter nor exit is confusing enough as it is, without having to contend with the lilo-flapping jaywalkers. Least they can do is get a new walk, don’t walk system: it’s white, it’s striped, now use it.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Oh What A Night

The heavy storms that finally came in on Sunday have continued to rage. True to form “The Bulletin” dragged out the headline it uses on these occasions – “What A Night” (or day, use as applicable) – to refer to a burst of storms early on Tuesday morning. The dramatic change in the weather after over four months with barely a drop of rain has been welcome in some respects, but not for the Septemberists – the tourists. 

 

On the forum for the Alcudia Guide, someone asked what there is to do when it rains. The answer is very little. It is the nature of Alcúdia and most of the island that everything occurs outdoors. Go to the old town, go to Albufera, go to the mountains of La Victoria. All well and good but not when the rain is descending with the ferocity of ammo from an AK-47. Take a hire car somewhere. All well and good, always assuming you can get one and aren’t asked to pay out an arm, a leg and much of the torso, and always assuming you enjoy driving through rivers along the side roads and even some main roads. At one point over 40 litres per square metre dropped onto Albufera, bringing consequent repercussions for roads abutting it. One of the sadder sights is seeing the crowds at bus stops hoping to get to Alcúdia’s market. Though additional buses run when the market is on, they nearly all get filled up by the time they’ve left Alcúdia Pins. But even if people had got on one on Tuesday morning, they would have got out only to be subject to a further deluge. Good news for the bars maybe, but not for anyone else.

 

When the weather is rubbish, some of the greatest problems are experienced in the all-inclusive ghettoes. Because they, like everything else, deal in the outdoors, namely the pool sides, the sun dispossessed who have to retreat inside in their hordes find little or nothing to satisfy them. Even were the rain to relent sufficiently for them to actually leave the hotels, many are reluctant to do so because that might mean spending money. 

 

Of course there is always the option of just spending all day in a bar. Or if not all day, then up to some time in the afternoon, like near to five o’clock. The local plod van drew up outside the Alcúdia Suite hotel. Out, with some difficulty, came this chap who had been given the taxi home. One step forward and then three steps back. Careful now. Can you get up the steps to the hotel? Whoooahh. No. Let’s just lift you up, sir, shall we. Don’t let’s give the local plod a bad name. Better to just take chummy back to the hotel to sleep it off. And they were finding it all distinctly funny, as indeed did I. But not chummy’s wife.

 

 

The letters to “The Bulletin” are often a rich source of oddness. Take one from yesterday in which someone argues that hotels closing early this season is a case of shooting themselves in the foot as holidaymakers do not wish to come and see resorts at least partially shut down. Presented with such a scene, they will go elsewhere, so goes the argument. While true that places closed down can give a rather depressing air, are the hotels expected to stay open, uneconomically, just so those tourists who are around can feel that they are not wandering through ghost towns? Seemingly they are. Perhaps bars and restaurants that close early because there are few tourists about or because those which are about are ensconced in an all-inclusive should likewise stay open. In which case, if tourists’ perceptions are so important (and it would be wrong to say they are not), then somebody should be paying the hotels and the bars to stay open. And that is not going to happen.

Posters

Posters, posters. Today I am poster boy. Or rather, yesterday I was. Posters for this. Posters for that. Some arty, most not. The Beata poster looks like art but without close inspection is just a mess and mass of reds and browns. Ignore it. Most people probably do, unless they’re Mallorcan. Thousands of people lined the streets of Santa Margalida on Sunday – it says in the reports – but it is unlikely that they needed a brown and red poster to attract them; they knew of the event in any event. The poster for the Alcúdia Ye-Ye, now also a thing of the past. What is “ye-ye” exactly. She loves you, ye, ye, ye perhaps. Or oh ye of so little faith, if you have no time for the religious outpouring of Beata. Beata or Beatles. Who went to the Ye-Ye unless they were alcudienc? Who knew about it? They may have seen the poster but it didn’t register. Steve from Little Britain passed me. There’s that poster in the shop. A policeman dropped one by, just left it, without so much as a by-your-leave, a hello or a goodbye. Yea, yea, ye, ye, it’s a poster, the one about the illegal street selling. It’s in Castilian as well as Catalan. No sign on the sign of English or German. Who will register it among the tourism throngs? It’s just window-dressing, thinks I. It shows that they’re doing something, something being a poster. It is window-dressing because it’s in the window of the shop. From the boot of the car I take the Ye-Ye poster and the Mercadets d’Estiu poster. The town hall had given them to me. What was I to do with them? They’ll just end up in the blue paper recycling container. What would anyone do with them, unless they are Mallorcan? What is a mercadet d’estiu to a tribe of tourists from Tottenham or Thüringen? It is in fact a small summer market, the pictures just about give it away. But who would know what “jocs” are? A load of Scots spelt incorrectly? 

 

Why do they do all this? Well, the answer is obvious. But where is the publicity aimed at everyone else, all those tourists? Does anyone actually stop and think? And then there is a poster for 10 September. What day is that? It’s the Alcúdia day of the tourist, the climax to it being an appropriate gathering of the poor man’s tourism experience – tribute acts, a Queen and a Jackson, but no Beatles: ye, ye, ye; no, no, no. Why must there be a day of the tourist? Is every day not a day of the tourist? But at least it’s in English – after a fashion. “We wait 4 U,” it says. SMS posters. Someone thought: let’s be contemporary, funky, in touch with the tourist inner youth and texter. But wait – what is this “wait”? What does it mean? It’s that verb. “Esperar”. It translates in different ways – wait for, expect, hope. We expect you. That’s a command. You don’t command tourists to do anything. We hope (you will come). If you hope, you don’t expect, except that expect can imply different expectations; it is not only a command. We wait for you, therefore. How long? Does nothing happen until the tourists turn up, the ones they hope for or expect? Does anyone actually stop and think what they’re saying on these posters, even when they do them in English. Even if it were the right word, the grammar’s wrong. 

 

Posters, posters. Thousands of euros. Thousands of sheets of paper. Printers in business. Designers in business. And probably some useless translator in business, too. And much of it a total waste of effort. 

Mother, Mother

On the forum for thealcudiaguide, there was a question about supermarkets and which fiesta days affect their opening hours. I suggested that there were only two,  during the main season, that meant they closed for the whole day in Alcúdia – Pedro and Jaime. There are, of course, the other holiday days that you do tend to forget. Like yesterday. Mother of God, it’s another fiesta. And that was it. Mare de Déu de la Victoria that is celebrated next to the hermitage in the mountains above the town of Alcúdia. I knew it was the fiesta, but I had never cottoned on to the fact that it affects openings. Oh yes it does – banks closed, chemists closed, some shops and offices closed, supermarkets (the main ones) closing at two in the afternoon. How inconvenient is all this? I only realised all this as I happened to be at the paseo tourist office (which was staying open all day – the others were closed). San Pedro was on Monday; three days later there is another, and hardly anyone knows about it, unless they are truly immersed in the local traditions. I admit, therefore, that I am not, as – Mother of God – I wasn’t aware. I am now. 

 

The fiestas are an essential ingredient of the local way of life, they provide colour, spectacle and interest. No-one, least of all myself, is suggesting that they are abandoned. But how sensible is it that they disrupt the normal flow of commerce to the extent that they do? Profound changes have taken place and have impacted upon society and business, and yet, while these changes have occurred, the society itself has refused to change; it is caught in a time-warp. You can argue that the continuation of tradition and of the lack of change to society is an admirable thing in face of voracious commercialism, and you would be right, but there is a dissonance between this maintenance of tradition, this lack of change and the complaints about economic circumstances and all the rest. Now, the fiestas do not fundamentally affect the tourism economy, and so you can also argue that their regularity is at best neutral in terms of productivity, but they are indicative of a psychology that wants everything as it was while keeping all the commercial gains as well. But the poor tourist is inconvenienced. If he has schlepped up from Bellevue to do some economical supermarketing only to find the nearest Eroski shut, he has every right to feel hot, sweaty and more than a bit hacked off. The point is that, in a tourist resort, the tourist should take precedence. It may not be a view that everyone is comfortable with, but it is the tourist who pays for Alcúdia, not a bit of ball de bot by the hermitage.

 

In the wider context, it would seem that, finally, something is to give where shopping hours in Palma are concerned; it’s been a point of debate and criticism for some while that the opening hours are so limited. It’s a start I suppose. On top of societal conservatism, one can add the role of unions and Church in opposing change. Some years ago, the Germans, under Gerhard Schröder, attempted a liberalisation; it was burnt down in the flames of Hades by the strength of the religious and union lobbies and quickly dropped. It was a mistake. Of course, you can also argue that the Anglo-Saxon view of market liberalism and the combination of Thatcherite union bashing and religious indifference led to the 24-hour shopping and commerce culture of the UK, and that to view the local situation it is necessary to adopt a different cultural perspective. You would be right in this regard as well. But there should be greater compromise and willingness to change. Last year, as the storms of crisis gathered and there were moans coming from businesses, it was revealing that moaners were happy enough to clear off to Menorca for two to three days to celebrate Sant Joan. Go figure. 

Art For Art’s Sake

Jeremy Paxman believes that the British spend too much time watching television and that television they watch in great droves, like “Britain’s Got Talent”, represents time that would be better spent going to the likes of art galleries. There was a discussion of this on Stephen Nolan’s Five Live show, with Rod Liddle basically agreeing with Paxman, while readily admitting he was being elitist.

This is not a discussion for this blog, but it acts as a neat point of entry to Alcúdia town hall’s current list of events – painting exhibition, pottery exhibition and a theatrical production in Catalan. These should have tourists turning up in their droves. Ah but, you say, these are just for local people. In the main yes, but not exclusively. Either way, they still fall firmly into the category – worthy but dull. Well can one imagine the excitement generated around the pools of Bellevue at the news that a German artist has got a few pictures hanging in the library in the old town. Don’t all rush at once.

It was pleasing to hear views on the Nolan programme that museums and their like should be places of interactivity and of entertainment, a point I have made myself in respect of the planned new Pollentia museum. For the couch-potato, TV-watching, double-Susan Boyle-sized Philistine Brits, read the sun lounger-potato, double-Susan Boyle-sized Philistine Brit tourists, also TV watching, be it “Talent” or the Cup Final at the nearest bar, when they could be looking blankly at some ceramics or attending a play in an indecipherable language.

This is not to say that the town hall shouldn’t put on these events, but it is to say that if they seriously believe tourists are going to take much notice, then they should think again. Recently, it was announced that the summer Via Fora programme (the dramatised street productions) would be held inside the walls of the old town and not just outside them – as has been the case. Boy, that’s a major innovation. Sadly, much as the Via Fora historical representations are quite good, they also fail to inspire the tourist to vacate his bar stool. Why not do one in English and stage it in the Bellevue show garden? The history of Alcúdia with loads of flashing lights, blokes with swords, hologram religious icons weeping; that sort of malarkey. A sort of Pirates with only the odd pirate and loads of Romans and Moors. Far too unauthentic probably, and Heaven forbid it shouldn’t be in Catalan, but you know something, I reckon they’d be packed out. Actually, forget it, Alcúdia town hall. Don’t bother reading this. I’m on the phone to a theatrical impresario. Or maybe Paxman’s got a few bob knocking around he’d care to invest.

All Summer Long

The Balearic Government’s environment minister has reversed the previous decision that permitted, for this season only, building works during part of the tourist season, namely up till the middle of June and throughout October. This reconsideration comes after concerns expressed by hoteliers and by tour operators, and indeed a hint as to legal action. These concerns centred, unsurprisingly, on the likelihood of tourists going elsewhere; there will have presumably been tourists who have already been affected, and the chances are that some might even have pursued the tour operators for some compensation if they had a disturbed stay.

The normal situation is that all building works in tourism areas are suspended during the official season – 1 May till end October – but this year, in recognition of difficulties faced by the construction industry, it had been agreed to relax this suspension. It was a relaxation that was always likely to cause a problem, and I would guess that the works in the heart of Puerto Pollensa and slap bang next to Hotel Daina might have been one of those that had been brought to the minister’s attention. The reports on this from “The Diario” actually refer to work “durante el verano”, which could be construed as meaning the whole summer. I’m not sure that this was ever envisaged, but perhaps it was, and so therefore not just into June and in October. Whatever the period of “relaxation”, the unrest that it has caused could have been predicted, which does make one wonder why the decision was taken in the first place. The now new problem may be what builders do with workers they had employed.

Back to the roads. All the new crossing-points and the new roundabout along the carretera in Playa de Muro make driving very stop-start, and you can not only sense but also witness the impatience rising among drivers, especially as the heat of the afternoon takes its toll; another crossing, another load of tourists with lilos and baby buggies to allow across. It’s hardly the tourists’ fault. Except. So I stopped and waited while this lady made up her mind to cross or not, and when she did, she did so very slowly because she was in the middle of texting. There you have it, let me just hold this traffic up a bit while I compose “c u later”. If it’s an offence for drivers to text while driving, maybe the same should apply to pedestrians when crossing a road. Indeed, I was thinking, while going along the now not-pedestrianised coast road in Puerto Pollensa, that perhaps they got that all wrong, and maybe they should have made it a non-pedestrianised zone. No pedestrians. None of them. Verboten. That’d learn ’em. Go do your texting somewhere else.

Oh, and the great frozen haddock mystery. A cool bag, well wrapped and put in the suitcase. Just hope it doesn’t un-freeze. The great smell of fish all holiday if not all summer long.

Pennyroyal Tea

One of those holiday survey things. What the Brit holidaymaker takes with him or her on holiday. Apparently, 43% of tourists take their own teabags with them. Do you?

At least teabags don’t take up much room in a suitcase or indeed weigh very much, so squeezing a load of bagged-up Tetleys inside a shoe isn’t too much of a problem, unlike, for example, cans of Heinz baked beans or some sliced loaves. But the British enduring imbibing love affair with tea demands that the right tea is on the table wherever the Brit may wander, Mallorca or further afield. Some while ago I spoke about tea (4 November: Storm In A Teacup), remarking that “whatever that sachet with a piece of string contains, you can be confident that it isn’t actually tea”. And that was because local tea bears only a passing resemblance, and usually not even that, to the brackish stuff that floods out of a PG Tip. For Mallorca and Spain, read also many other countries. That 43% are probably right.

Still, if you need to go out and buy some tea, you might try one of the local so-called discount supermarkets. Since when was a discount “hard” do you suppose? But hard it is if, that is, you go to the Royal Cheapest at the top of The Mile or, allegedly, Aldi in Playa de Muro. Now I may be wrong, but I have a funny feeling that this isn’t Aldi as we know it, Jim, or should that be not as “wir wissen” it, Hans.

One of the great truisms of local business is that bars come and bars do go, that restaurants come and restaurants do go. Puerto Alcúdia has lost, finally, one of its less attractive but damned good eateries. Cap Roig. What a fine place this was. The stuffed peppers and the battered cod were excellent. Toni may have occasionally sported rather eccentric head furniture in the form of his haircut, but haircuts have never been a crucial factor when it comes to culinary skills. The restaurant had been for sale for at least three years and it has now passed into other hands, or indeed haircuts. It will still be a restaurant, but a different style. It will be … an Indian. And, your starter and main course for ten euros or so, who is behind this new Indian? Think Puerto Pollensa. All will be revealed … . But you probably already know.

And … some of you may have noticed that today sees the United of Manchester playing the Barcelona of Barcelona. Watch your hats around the bars tonight as the locals demonstrate their sound Catalonian credentials. But in celebration of this, and my thanks to Danny Baker, here is one of Mallorca’s Z-list celebs performing a peerlessly awful thing called “Soccer Superstar”. Enjoy, or more likely, don’t. Ladies and gentlemen, we give you Jess Conrad, and to be honest you can have him:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_urjNkxaLz0.