Goodbye Hungary, hello Spain

Hungarian has had it, man That is an impetigo of a language, with enough diacritics to make a Spotted Dick. They have double acute accents (Ő, ő and ű, Ű) for goodness' sake, an overindulgence if ever I saw one. So, apart from telling you - without diacritics - that Szabo ur es Szabone - Mr and Mrs Tailor - are on the train, I will wish the Magyar tongue an insincere Viszontlatasra (au revoir) and move on.
And move on is what I have done, taking down from my bookshelf a manky old book called Fiestas y Costumbres Españolas, in the Heath's Modern Language Series, published in 1929.
1929! That even pre-dates Paco, and describes a Spain of dueñas and serenos and the rest that has surely gone forever. This book has been in my possession many a long year, in fact, since about 1950, when I nicked it from a second-hand bookstall in Wellington Market. Like these Spanish fiestas and customs, Wellington Market has long disappeared, but it was a nick worth the risk.
Of course, I couldn't read it then, although a couple of years later, I had plunged into the EUP "Teach Yourself Spanish" by Norman Scarlyn Wilson and was then emboldened to read El Sombrero de Tres Picos without understanding much. My later involvement with Barcelona (Los idiomas se aprenden entre las sabanas) did wonders for my Spanish and so Fiestas y Costumbres Españolas is now my morning companion. It's either that or prunes.