Lost in Translation

With two official languages and millions of tourists of many nationalities we do get the occasional lost in translation episode in Ibiza.

Last night in Es Ventall I learned a new expression in Spanish. After a fabulous plate of dorada (sea bream) and one of those bye bye belt moments the waiter asked if we'd like to round off our meal with dessert. Pointing to my well rounded tummy I explained that I couldn't even fit a waffer thin mint within.


That's 'la curva de la felicidad' he explained or to translate, the curve of contentment - which is a nice way of saying you have a large beer belly.

Not quite so bad as the translation of an ad for one of Ibiza's famous girlie bars, Pure Platinum which promised 'curvas peligrosas' running down the form of a well siliconed young lady. Only problem was they'd translated it as 'dangerous bends' which gave it all the flavour of a traffic hazzard warning.

Finally at the airport this morning the translators on the information boards had done an excellent job by getting 'en hora' exactly right as 'on time.' The only problem was the vexed issue of interpretting what exactly on time means - in a land where if anything happens at the appointed hour it is described as Britannic punctuality, the arrival of a plane due at 9.45 only 10 minutes late at 9.55 is still deemed to be on time.

Any road, I must dash, I'm on time for a meeing................