state of alarm

I woke this morning to find the country in estado de alarma.

On the radio they were talking about the military being mobilised, Spanish air space was closed and we were awaiting news from La Moncloa. It all sounded pretty desperate.

Eventually I realised that the cause of the crisis was an unplanned air-traffic controller strike which meant large numbers of Spaniards were not going to be able to fly off for the puente de la Constitución, the longest holiday weekend of the year. One report from the airport said “Lo único que se mueve aquí son los periodistas”, and the stranded passengers interviewed spoke of their indignation at the action of a few indeseables that meant they couldn’t get away to do their Christmas shopping.

I’ve mentioned before that the Spanish take their holidays seriously, but I think the reaction today has been somewhat exaggerated. I’ll accept that there may have been enormes pérdidas económicas, as one radio announcer reported, but not enormes pérdidas humanas, which she also claimed.

Even though I wasn’t intending travelling, I suppose I have a slight interest in the strike progress. My case went astray when I was travelling earlier in the week, and unless they sort things out, even if they find it, it won’t get repatriated.

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion

4 thoughts on “state of alarm”

  1. Anybody in the world who imagines he’s experiencing real hardship as a result of having no food or medicine ought to shut up after hearing the sad story of the miserable Spaniards who can’t do their Christmas shopping by aeroplane in the first week of December.

    Has anybody informed Bob Geldof and Sting about this terrible disaster?

    Like

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