GOOGLEDEPRIVATION.COM/PLAINT

It must be a full year since Google's Bug-eyed Monster roared past my house, Calle Antonio Machado-1 in the rural village of Las Pinedas (pop. 197) some 25 minutes from the fomer Moorish capital of Cordoba, where the Christian and Jewish lambs used to lie down, more or less peaceably, with the Islamic lion. . We are used to variegated sounds of traffic in Las Pinedas (pop. 197): the irregular clop of horses' hooves as they trip over the speed-bumps, the curses of our neighbour when bitten by his mule, the racket of young death-seekers hurtling blindly through the streets on rackety scooters, the Roland-at-Roncesvalles horn-calls of Pepi the bread-lady as she summons her customers still in their curlers and night-dresses to their front doors of a morning, the ever-sleeker burble of ever-vaster tractors, their farm implements scraping paint off the parked cars in the narrow streets... The sound of the Googlecar was different from all of these. A whirring whine of aircon and heavy rubber, like a Humvee on the streets of Baghdad - appropriately enough, since it was carrying out an aggressive invasion of other peoples' living-space. Indeed were it not for a discreet Google colophon low down on the shiny black hull we might well have believed from its curious goggling head-on-stalk that the Martians had taken over General Motors.

Undoubtedly the Googlecar was invading our space - and doing so without a by-your-leave or thank-you. But look at it from our point of view: all we 197 inhabitants of Las Pinedas. The last time there was any excitement in this village was a few winters back when snow fell here for the first time in 70 years and the whole population, including those in wheel-chairs, turned out to throw snowballs. Before that....? Well, Marshal Soult is rumoured to have withdrawn the Grande Armee through Las Pinedas in 1812, but as there is some doubt whether the village had yet been built at that time, this is scarcely a hot topic to while away the time between games of dominos at the Bar Gran Parada. In short, though the Googlecar arrived in the village in the siesta hour when almost everyone was asleep - I leapt to my bedroom window when I heard the suprising sound, so I am one of the very few eye-witnesses - its presence is potentially the biggest thing to happen to Las Pinedas since its foundation in the early 19th century as part of the re-colonisation of Andalucia by Saxon farmers (most of them soon went home). So inevitably the following evening everyone within a mule-ride of a computer was glued to a screen, tabbing frantically to get Las Pinedas up on Google Earth.

Bitter disappointment followed. Neither then, nor now a year later, have the streets of Las Pinedas (all five of them - or nine if you include the roads on the four sides of the central Plaza de Andalucia) - been accessible on Google Earth. New York, yes. London, yes. Paris, yes. Venice, yes. But Las Pinedas (pop. 197), no! A year later the half-eaten bocadillos are still curling on the plates beside the abandoned monitor screens, the last unfinished fino has dried down to a yellow smear at the bottom of the glass, and not a squeak comes from the computer mice, inert on their Real Madrid mouse-mats beside the untapped key-boards (Real Madrid was Franco's favourite team; in Franco's day closet Republicans supported Barcelona; Las Pinedas is still a Real Madrid village).

What have New York, London, Paris and Venice got that Las Pinedas (pop. 197) hasn't got? - we ask ourselves What has Las Pinedas done to deserve to be dropped off the map? Because our village is not displayed by Google Earth it de facto no longer exists. All 197 of us have suddenly been `redacted' from planet earth and `renditioned' to an electronic refugee-camp for the digitally stateless, a Sangatte for the `sans images', the `sin imagenes' - those without the means of visual identification necessary for modern life

All this despite the fact that to move with the times Las Pinedas - trs. `The Pine-Trees' - felled its last pine-tree, a fine umbrella pine unusual for this area, only a couple of years ago. What else does Las Pinedas have to do to bring itself back into contention with the modern world? How else can it stake its claim for a reasonable share of global attention? When does the population of Las Pinedas get its 15 minutes of fame?

Be reaussured, however, that Las Pinedas has not given up hope. Even as your Spanish correspondent scribes these lines, Las Pinedas' parish council is in secret session, drawing up a letter to President Obama himself. I shall be giving nothing away that you won't shortly be hearing from the roof-tops of the world, if I tell you now that Las Pinedas is bidding to become a site for the Star Wars anti-missile missiles which the Russians have made the USA withdraw from their planned positions in Poland and the Czech Republic. The Bar Gran Parada has already promised to expand its catering facilities with a Burger bar and a Dunkin' Do-Nuts for all those hungry uniformed American boys and girls. The primary school playground will be doubled in size and hardened to provide a combined heli-pad and baseball mound. The old railway line, currently a cycle-track, will be relaid with tarmac for emergency evacuation of the obese. As for precise location of the command post - in the interest of security I must seal my lips - but as the faithful in Las Pinedas are well aware, there is a little-used vestry at the back of the Church, which subject to a pecuniary negotiation with the flower-arranging ladies regarding access to the cold-water tap, ought to be a shoe-in for the C-in-C.

Citizens of the world! Google Inc. may not yet allow you to look down at Las Pinedas. But all that could change on a nod and a wink from General Petraeus. And meanwhile remember, Las Pinedas (pop. 197) is already looking down on you!

Nicholas Tresilian
Las Pinedas
Cordoba
Spain