The news has come through the Spanish media a short time ago that expresident Carles Puigdemont has now fled to Belgium to start a new life as a political refugee, together with five more ministers from his two-hour long Republic of Catalonia.
Now that life returns to normal after the Catalan Circus, I’d just like to say how relieved I am that I don’t have to hear that awful dirge Els Segadors on the Spanish television news every night. (I even prefer the heavy metal version…) Nor do I want to watch more excruciatingly embarrasing political propaganda from Omnium Cutural based on decades of ultra-right Ukrainian victimhood, and paid for out of MY taxes!
Blimey! And you thought that Trump was a big liar, didn’t you? They are all the same these populists, aren’t they? All emotion and no facts.
Well, Carles Puigdemont and friends, I hope this has cheered you up. And apart from chocolate there’s also surrealism and Hercule Poirot. But nothing else, so you’ll find Belgium unbearable. And damp.
So here’s a plan:
If you get fed up with Flemish and chocolate; and your new plan to make everyone in Belgium speak Catalan doesn’t work out (like most of your plans), I propose a way to get back to the sunny Mediterranean.
After 2019, if you haven’t died of the damp Belgian weather, you can go ask those naughty Brexit separatists in England if they’ll give you and your fellow oppressed separatist refugees a British passport. Then hop on a plane to Alicante and visit us in Benidorm!
Here in “Catalunya South” – the Costa Blanca – we have better beer than the Costa Brava and you will not find any of those awful butifarra and mongetes lunches. There are regular fights organised by the separatists (British) in Benidorm every Saturday night, so you can still enjoy a bloody time on the streets fighting the Policia Nacional.
But you must learn to sing this first! It’s de rigeur * among the English.
* And as you see, we speak some words of Catalan.