Entry for 8th April, 2008

As I mentioned, I was at the Spanish Consulate today. There is something about the word “consulate” which evokes images of a humid, breathless office in some far off foreign land. Somehow I expected a slow turning ceiling fan, and listless men in panama hats.
The Spanish Consulate’s office in Edinburgh is less exotic, but it still seemed strangely thrilling. There was a constant coming and going, as people had Visas authenticated, applied for work permits and had documents notarised. It felt like this was an embarkation point for adventure and the wider world beyond Scotland. It made me feel rather parochial.
The Consul himself was exactly what I expected: a big balding Spanish man, tanned and with huge hands, and an immaculate Summer jacket. I imagine he had a baretta under his jacket, and is ready to use it if the Republicans ever try to stage a coup.