Spanish Pride - a travel flashback

While having a menu del dia at night, somewhere in a secondary calle of Madrid, the news on national TV were reporting on my back that Spain got another medal in the Olympic Games. It went on the air as if it was happening right then, without any introduction, and the reporter's excitement was building up as the two Spanish rowers got nearer the finish line.

 

Then the news-flash pivot proudly announced that Spain had already obtained sixteen medals. No comparison established with other nations. No comparison with Spain’s previous records.

 

I understand. Maybe that’s how you keep the little people proud and able to work better the very next day. Proud of their origins. Proud of their language. And maybe that's why they are so loud. Maybe that’s what national TV is like under a monarchy. Or maybe I’m just teasing as usual.

 

The Spanair crash in Barajas airport was the next subject in line. And recently another flight of that company to Lanzarote made an emergency landing in Malaga. On account of the Spanish pride, I don’t understand why such airline wasn't forced yet by the king to change its name to Banair. He was man enough to tell Hugo Chávez, 'Why don't you shut up?'... 

 

All this to say that Barcelona should be the capital of Castilla - La Mancha too, that the geo-strategical reasons that led to the choice of Madrid as the capital are no longer valid in the age of satellite-laser-guided-missiles. Perhaps when and if Spain becomes a republic Barcelona will get the title that is beautifully and therefore rightly hers.