Today is the anniversary of the day I was born, and the day former Spanish dictator Francisco Franco died. He finally kicked the bucket in 1975 – which is quite recently really, and the memory of the dictatorship remains clearly a part of the public consciousness. So each 20^th of November there are big demonstrations all over Spain. What could be better for my birthday than a bit of politics in action, eh?

The “fascists” come out and chant “Long Live Franco”, and the “anti-fascists” come out in force and tell them to sod off and grow up and chant “Long Live Democracy”. Or something like that. (I don’t mean to take the mickey or anything by using the quote marks and term fascist, I am actually quoting the terminology of the young politically-left here).

So how did it all go on Saturday night?

Well, actually… I went to an Irish pub and watched the All Blacks beat France (again). I must be getting old.

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