Bill looked at Jim, crumpling under his Leon legacy. His face was red from the sun but it looked like his purple nose was casting its fruity shadow over his sundried face, until the black seeds of his eyes. He looked like he'd been in the mortuary two hours ago and the prunes they'd placed over his eyes had left their wrinkling residue.
"This town is a shit heap" said Jim as they stomped out through busy streets, then quiet flyovers, then busy streets. "This is the fag end of your magnificent capitalism, it was the unwritten rule, jobs for life became jobs for five years and then brick it all up, leave a heap of shite."
Buenos dias, mi amigo, who feels good today then?" replied Bill still savouring his last tapa from La Trebede, the last bar of the evening but comfortably the best. They had strolled out of the Posada Regia Leon and catching sight of a bar called inger' they had navigated successfully down the street, weaving from Bar Madrid, to Mona Lisa and many more before finishing in the early hours at La Trebede.
"We had to be a more flexible workforce responding to the whims of fashion. Retraining and reinventing ourselves. That's why you get ghettoes like this. The jobs arrive and five years later the grants are gone and the company fucks off leaving unemployment and a bunch of skills nobody needs" ranted Jim as he crushed every piece of concrete under his boot, and any insects foolish enough to wander through his camino.
"We had to be a more flexible workforce responding to the whims of fashion. Retraining and reinventing ourselves. That's why you get ghettoes like this. The jobs arrive and five years later the grants are gone and the company fucks off leaving unemployment and a bunch of skills nobody needs" ranted Jim as he crushed every piece of concrete under his boot, and any insects foolish enough to wander through his camino.
"My favourite tapa of the evening was probably the big slice of tostada with morcilla in Mona Lisa but to be fair, the paella in Bar Madrid wasnae too shabby either." Bill continued. "But the amibence and the variety of tapa at La Trebede, was second to none.
"In the 50's, the automobile industry did this with the car putting wings or fins, bumpers and shiny bits but the 80's version did it with people. They started bending people into shapes. Its a fucking disgrace and, ah, ya bastard. These fucking pavements with their big cracks and stupid lips that you trip on." exclaimed Jim as he continued crashing his boots into all comers while wildly waving his walking poles as they searched for a solid surface. "Sustainability was a catchword for complacency. A lack of ambition. Ambition to create something that would last was replaced in the dictionary by something that could be quaffed. Simply consume it, dont construct it. Chocolate fucking fire guards. The UK led the way, while the northern Europeans were maximising the benefits from sexual equality the real enemy of women in the UK board room was that they didn't have balls. No cock meant no lap dancing. The business was concluded in clubs. No longer private gentlemens clubs at lunch or over bridge the 80s was about cutting deals to get the max out before moving on to a competitor. Max out - move on. Momo. Leaving the SAD people stay and develop to wither in poverty on the vine"
"In the 50's, the automobile industry did this with the car putting wings or fins, bumpers and shiny bits but the 80's version did it with people. They started bending people into shapes. Its a fucking disgrace and, ah, ya bastard. These fucking pavements with their big cracks and stupid lips that you trip on." exclaimed Jim as he continued crashing his boots into all comers while wildly waving his walking poles as they searched for a solid surface. "Sustainability was a catchword for complacency. A lack of ambition. Ambition to create something that would last was replaced in the dictionary by something that could be quaffed. Simply consume it, dont construct it. Chocolate fucking fire guards. The UK led the way, while the northern Europeans were maximising the benefits from sexual equality the real enemy of women in the UK board room was that they didn't have balls. No cock meant no lap dancing. The business was concluded in clubs. No longer private gentlemens clubs at lunch or over bridge the 80s was about cutting deals to get the max out before moving on to a competitor. Max out - move on. Momo. Leaving the SAD people stay and develop to wither in poverty on the vine"
"Hold on, I'm just getting this photo. Do you see that statue of St Jacques? How cool is that? And I do like the hobbit houses, these bodegas cut in the hill side. I could well imagine myself staying in one for a long evening, emerging at sun up to continue the camino or if it was chucking it down like today, going back in for more!" said Bill happily smiling at his friend's furnace.
"The business schools taught their business but the world had moved on. Now look at us. The biggest industry is entertainment. Its mobile apps and games. Its sport stars and franchises. It talking your national sport and putting it in another continent to bleed them dry. Its about sport for stars and obesity for amateurs. We fund excellence not participation. Look at the Swedes, look what Petra was saying last night and Marguerite. They might not have top class sports stars but they do have the best child participation levels." Jim spat every word as if his words could counter the cascading rain as it accelerated down from the sky above.
"I said, leaving the SAD people, those who would stay and develop to wither impoverished on the abused vine. By 2000 Rome was burning. Consumer driven momos were populating every board room with the same mantra. What will sell. Not what is a profitable and sustainable model."
"Ah, but not all vines have been abused. Have you tried the wines of Leon? Last night that's what we had with the Morcilla. A bit harsher but it works depending on the tapa. To be fair I ask the barman to choose the wine and tapa, it was easier and they always knew what worked well. The albarinho with the seafood paella was superb."
"The business schools taught their business but the world had moved on. Now look at us. The biggest industry is entertainment. Its mobile apps and games. Its sport stars and franchises. It talking your national sport and putting it in another continent to bleed them dry. Its about sport for stars and obesity for amateurs. We fund excellence not participation. Look at the Swedes, look what Petra was saying last night and Marguerite. They might not have top class sports stars but they do have the best child participation levels." Jim spat every word as if his words could counter the cascading rain as it accelerated down from the sky above.
"For once, mi amigo, you have stumbled into a rant I like. I do agree with Petra. I agreed with everything she said last night, up until she kissed me good night and said 'sleep well'. She gave me a massive hug and I thought she was staying to the end. They really are slagged for being boring but all that stuff last night made perfect sense, especially the bus to Astorga! Do you think we could maybe change attack and get on a villamdangos. They said buses were every hour and let's face it, we've now walked 5km, that's usually our lot"
They had passed the bodegas and were back alongside motorway and wet spray. Jim's hangover had started to subside. He was looking around and drinking from his bottle. He saw his friend's smile. His pack felt lighter, his mind was nearly empty, but there was once last thing he remembered from Marguerite & Petra. "They are on the 11:30 to hospital de orbigo, what time is it?"
"Mi amigo it is 11:05 according to that big clock there. The one that flashes 13 degrees and cold and is next to the bus stop. What say we wander over and check it is our bus stop"
They stood next to the bus stop and could decipher nothing. The cafe was a few yards away and Bill blazed the trail. He threw his pack off and asked, "Dos vinos tintos por favor. Autobus to Astorga aqui?
"No" replied the bar tender as he pointed another 50 metres up the street, where a small number of people were gathered in ill fitting ponchos and back packs. "Cinquante metros"
"gracias" said Bill as he necked the two wines and handed over the two euros.
"You really are ambidextrous" said Jim as he felt some light invading his long dark drink damaged tunnel
