 Changing Places Week 153 W/C 25th January 2009
The storm of the century was how it was billed or at least the storm of the decade. I think it depended which side of the Island you were on when the cyclone hit. The winds rushed and the clattering began with tiles and debris being blown over the roads. The biggest crash came at 2 am when our huge satellite dish parted company with its fixing on the wall and crashed to the ground. For twenty-four hours the gusts came and went with six foot high waves pounding the shore in the Port of Soller. This winter is full of surprises with masses of rain, many cloudy days followed by cold spells and now a cyclone. Where has the gentle winter gone with its clear blue sky days - we really miss it.
No television or radio to keep us company the battle was on to make the DVD work for an evening's entertainment. We struggle with things technical in our house and even with an engineering degree Trev did not win the war with the DVD. Just as things were getting fraught and an evening of conversation beckoned the phone rang. It was our office landlord to say that she was in the Port and saw our office shutters flapping perilously in the wind and we needed get there quickly. Just what you need on a dark cyclonic night but we headed off to sort the problem. The seafront that we watch from our office window every day was a different world. No-one in the calm days of summer would believe the sight of the sea lashing on to the road and rubbish being whirled up in the air on every gust. We roped the shutters tightly closed and checked all windows were secure and left for home.
The days of insurance investigations before Sean from Ocean can get us connected again mean that we have started using our Spanish TV at last. To have the Majorcan news and follow events round the Island have been an unexpected bonus. There are even channels that teach English to Spanish people which mean that we get a Spanish lesson in reverse.
All this pleasure that has been lurking under the familiarity of Eastenders and Coronation Street. Maybe when the Sky is connected again we will have more electric viewing tastes - or will we slip straight back into the familiar again?
There are times in our life in Majorca when I have to suspend belief at what happens. No stranger to Magistrate or Crown Courts in London - indeed I spent days every week in one or other in my various magisterial roles. I didn't ever think I would visit one in Majorca on the wrong side of the dock. This saga started with an official document telling me to report to the court in Soller for the first stage of a `denouncement'. To even discover there was a court in Soller was a first. For those who might need this information I can tell you that it is situated on the third floor of the Railway Station. Miro galleries at ground floor level, train ticket office on first floor and then right to the top for a court of law.
I signed for the piece of paper telling me that a court hearing had been set for a date in February. The idea that a person can accuse you of something and require your appearance before a magistrate to investigate a charge, with no previous warning is bizarre in my English understanding of law. In the UK the police bring a charge against you after investigating and having the agreement of the Crown Prosecution Service that there is a case to answer. I know the French and Spanish arguments for having investigative magistrates and I can see the merits but find it very `big brother' that at the stage you pick up the document from the court you don't even know who your accuser is.
I can see I am going to learn a great deal about the Majorcan judicial system in the next few weeks. This wasn't in the master plan for relocation!
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