Frankly Mr Franco

As I declared to Jonathan Blake at the end of last season, a-m isn't just about whinging on about Madrid's performance in the league - it runs a little deeper than that for us. So on the eve of the new season, it seems appropriate to mention something that's been on our mind since holidaying in Sanabria this month. Taking a wander down the lanes of the lakeside villages thereabout we came across the hamlet of Ribadelago.
Very quaint, almost timeless, but something decidedly odd about the place. Everywhere you go, there are memorials on the sites of derelict houses, the corners of streets etc to the victims of "the tragedy of the 9th January 1959". This got us wondering what this was all about and not wanting to bother the local inhabitants (out of respect), the internet seemed to be the place to look. The truth is that after much local opposition during the 1940s, General Franco's cronies managed to push through a project to build a dam across the surrounding area. Work started in 1953 and the dam was opened by Franco in 1956, though it still wasn't finished. On the night of 9.1.59, the thermometer showed -18ºC, following a torrential downpour. The dam burst and of the 549 inhabitants 144 were swept away. Only 28 bodies were ever recovered; the remainder - 116 souls, the majority children - were never found. To add insult to injury, Franco adopted the village and it became Ribedalgo de Franco until after his celebrated death. It is a strange and ancient setting to wander around today, though the ageing locals are charming and welcoming despite everything. If you're ever in the area, drop in for five minutes to pay your respects.
Let's not forget - General Franco was a Madridista.

Here we go again

I was wondering how best to get back into the swing of a-m posting and had considered crowing about Madrid's embarrassing defeat at the hands of some second rate Japanese team or other but it all seemed rather petty and, well, I was on holiday. A couple of recent incidents rather rekindled my interest though. Both happened when in the Spanish region of Sanabria in the remote village of Trefacio to be precise. I was struck by just how incredibly nice everbody was, compared with Madrid in any case. Driving through one of the narrow streets, however, I came to a bridge that only one car could cross at a time and met another car coming the other way. The other driver immediately started waving his arms around and behaving like a chulo twat and it only took a microsecond to realise that we were dealing with a madrileño. At quick glance at his registration plate confirmed it and no further detective work was necessary to work out that he was almost certainly a madridista too.
The second incident involved me walking into the village bar to hear someone sounding off about "outsiders". As soon as they saw me enter, there was an exchange of furtive glances and the conversation took a polite change in direction. In fact, the conversation had been about football hooliganism, which anyone is entitled to complain about. What impressed me was the respect that they had shown to an outsider by being sensitive to my feelings, something that is unlikely to happen in a bar in Madrid, and has little to do with any madridista "philosophy".
Welcome back.