‘What do you call a man who looks after sheep in English?’ a fellow pilgrim asks me on the road to Santiago? ‘Er, a shepherd?’ ‘That’s right. Un chepa. In Ferrolano un chepa is a guardía municipal (local policeman). I’ll explain. Ferrol is a port in the far north of Galicia, which due to its [...]

‘What do you call a man who looks after sheep in English?’ a fellow pilgrim asks me on the road to Santiago?   ‘Er, a shepherd?’  ‘That’s right. Un chepa. In Ferrolano un chepa is a guardía municipal (local policeman).  I’ll explain. Ferrol is a port in the far north of Galicia, which due to its [...]

“ ¿A cuanto están?” I ask the younger of the two women standing behind a row of upturned crates piled with higos chumbo (prickly pears). “MaMAAA,” she asks mama, even though they’ve been selling the things all morning, “¿A cuanto están?” “Tres euros la cena,” replies mother in her gardening gloves as she expertly slices [...]

I’ve been in Spain as long as The Simpsons have been on air (1989). And for me, despite their utter American-ness, they remain utterly Spanish. The first time I heard the ‘real’ Homer’s voice I was horrified. Lisa and Marge sound amazingly similar in both languages, but somehow Homer is cuter in castellano, Moe even [...]

The most obscene gesture in Spain is the forearm jerk, known as el corte de manga, or ‘sleeve cut’. Much favoured by tantrumy footballers, this involves shooting the left arm straight up at a 90 degree angle while whacking your right palm into the elbow joint. The underlying message, which may or may not be [...]