España Profunda

Spain − except it seems one small corner of it − has been pelos en punta this week, agonising over amateur video footage of a Gallego clobbering his Alsatian. Chained to a post, the poor dog could only yelp piteously and cower in terror as ever larger trunks of wood were brought down on him with the maximum force of a seventy five-year-old git.

The film was made by the man's neighbour, a vet of Argentinian origin. As a result of his denunciation the battered dog was rescued and relocated, but the old bastard simply bought himself a couple more...and then went and poisoned the vet's dog in revenge.

Meanwhile the vet, regarded as an interfering outsider, has been subjected to a hate campaign by a group from his local community. Yesterday we watched on TVe as they jeered and jostled him when he left court. I love the Iberian peninsula but if Galicia were to detach itself and float off into the mid-Atlantic I can't say I'd miss it all that much.

Other parts of Iberia may have more openly separatist ambitions, but Galicia is in some senses more obviously already a land apart. For a start 83% of its inhabitants speak Galego, compared to figures closer to 50% for Basques and Catalans fluent in their own regional languages. Oddly, Gallegos that have migrated overseas retain the right to vote in their homeland, with some local electorates comprising a majority of such absentees.

Galicia is also Europe's top entry point for cocaine, in part because of the close ties maintained between Spain's north west corner and the substantial overseas settlements of Gallegos in places like Colombia. Over the years emigration has drained many of the region's communities to the extent that local councils have resorted to advertising online to encourage Latins to come over and settle there. The experience of that vet ought to serve as a warning.