Valerie and Theresa appeared on Buenafuente’s show on La Sexta (Spain’s Channel 6) on 4 February. You can watch Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Our hosting company is as about as much use as the last slice of Bimbo bread (más inútil que la última rebanada del pan Bimbo).  Not only did they ‘lose’ the site this morning, they also managed to bin all the new comments posted over the last two days.  We LOVED all the expressions that everyone sent in and will  do our informatically-challenged best to copy and paste and sort from our mail box to the site by tomorrow. Muchas  disculpas. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible …

The part of Barcelona I most love is the seafront: the whole shebang, from Maremagnum to Diagonal Mar. I love walking down Avinguda Joan de Borbó early in the morning when the sea sparkles. The seafront is the outing of choice with friends and visitors, the perfect escape from computer-bound life in the Eixample. The misty outlines of ships on the horizon, the planes cruising to El Prat over the sea, the green-gold parks, the backdrop of Montjuïc, the salt tang in the air. It is so much the essence of Barcelona. And yet I will never take it for granted.

When Barcelona won the Olympic candidature in 1986, we were bombarded with details of the scheme to regenerate the city, a key element of which was ‘la recuperació del mar’. For too long, the excited copy ran, Barcelona had lived with her back to the sea. Now she would breathe again.

Before then, the seafront wasn’t part of our life. In fact it barely existed. Barceloneta beach was crowded, dirty and uncomfortable. Beyond l’Hospital del Mar, the railway tracks ran along the shore through an industrial wasteland.

My husband spent the last five months of his life in palliative care in the Clinica Barceloneta. We could see the sheen of sea and sky from the ward. We would wheel him along the boardwalk and around the park, and sit in the sun. Enric had always loved the mountains and disliked the beach. He couldn’t tell us because he’d lost the power of speech, but I like to think he found peace and closure by the sea in Barceloneta.

First published in the Barcelona Metropolitan January 2009,  as part of a series looking back over 35 years in Barcelona.

The universe works in mysterious ways. Shortly after the article about In the Garlic appeared in La Vanguardia, Valerie received a phone call from La Sexta – one of the national TV channels.  Would we like to appear on Buenafuente – a sort of late-night chat and comedy show? Well, of course we would!!!! And now the date looms – February 4th, when we will get our 15-minutes of fame in an interview with the popular presenter and comedian Andreu Buenafuente. Excited we are, though just a tad nerviosa too.

Buenafuente is on La Sexta from Mondays to Thursdays at midnight. We’ll be appearing on Thursday February 4. So set the DVD recorder, stay up late or check if the interview is viewable at the programme’s web page Buenafuente: the programme

One of the things I love about Spanish is how much fun everyone has with similes. When I was studying at the Escuela Oficial de Idiómas (the Official School of Languages) many years ago I picked up some classic comparisons such as: ser más largo que un día sin pan – to be longer than a day without bread, ser más alegre que unas castanuelas – to be happier than a set of castanets (!), the seemingly inexplicable ser más chulo que un ocho – to be smarter / flashier / cooler than the number eight (8 was apparently the number of a tram in Madrid on which the spiffy kids rode to go to the San Isidro fair), and the marvellous ser más corto que las mangas de un chaleco – to be shorter than the sleeves of a waistcoat, ie, ‘as thick as two short planks’.

Out there, however, in the street, in songs, on the web and in the press you can read / hear a million and one más + adjective + que expressions that seem to have been made up on the spot and that run the whole gamut from corny, absurd, witty and ironic, to cringe-makingly crude and absolutely hilarious. Here are a few choice insults for starters.

– Eres más pesado que una vaca en brazos. You’re ‘heavier’ than a cow in arms, in other words, a very large pain in the neck.

– Eres más inútil que un cenicero en una moto. You’re about as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike.

– Eres más vago que la chaqueta de un guardia civil. You’re lazier than the jacket of a Guardia Civil. Nuff said.

– Eres más largo que la infancia de Heidi. You’re longer than Heidi’s childhood.

– Tienes más pelígro que una piraña en un bidet. You’re more dangerous than a piranha fish in a bidet.

– Tienes menos detalles que el salpicadero de un Seat Panda. You’ve got fewer ‘details’ than the dashboard of a Seat Panda / You’re an inconsiderate s.o.b. This is a play on words as detalles are details but tener detalles means ‘to be thoughtful, considerate’.

– Eres más basto que un Petisui de morcilla. You’re more unrefined / uncouth than a black pudding-flavoured Petit Suiss (Petit Suiss is a popular make of fromage frais).

– Andas más perdido que un pulpo en un garaje. You’re more ‘lost’ / out of your depth than an octopus in a garage.

– Eres más feo que el parto de Mick Jagger. Poor old Mick. You’re uglier than the birth of Mick
Jagger.

Feel like adding any more? There are hundreds ….