Juan Ramirez set his glass of red wine on the bar, lit up a fag and, between drags, mocked Spain's impending smoking ban. "Why don't they leave us smokers in peace?" the 60-year-old doorman said, exhaling a white cloud at his companion in a central Madrid tavern. "What are they going to prohibit next? Walking out into the street?"
From January 1, Spain - a country known for its smoggy cafes and with one of the highest smoking rates in western Europe - will ban lighting up in offices, sporting arenas and other public venues. The new law will also require 336,000 restaurants, bars and hotels to corral smokers into small, isolated spaces. Only the tiniest neighbourhood watering holes will have a choice: ban cigarettes or bar people under 18.

Countries such as Ireland have already enacted even more drastic legislation, and the tobacco crowd has somehow managed to adapt.
But this is Spain, home to Bizet's cigarette-rolling heroine, Carmen, and the country that gave Europe its first taste of those dried, brown leaves shipped in galleons from the New World. Here smoke pervades the famed nightlife, waiters routinely pass out cigars to conclude any festive dinner and cigarettes sell for less than €3 (£2) a pack.

According to the most recent data from the World Health Organisation, nearly a third of adult Spaniards smoke, compared with only 26% of adults in Britain or Ireland. In Sweden, smokers have dwindled to 18% of the population.

"What are they going to do, arrest us?" grumbled Purificación Fernández, a 47-year-old textile union leader, smoking a cigarette outside her office in Madrid. "It's crazy to be that strict. It should be up to the individual. I'm polite. I ask my clients if they mind before I light a cigarette - then I smoke 10."

About three out of four Spaniards support the ban, according to a survey by the Centre for Sociological Research. But 69% think their compatriots will not comply. Half of those polled believe that smoking is an inalienable right.

The government has plastered rail platforms and bus stops with posters of darkened lungs and reminders to stub out smouldering butts. Some companies are paying for programmes to help employees quit, while bar owners reluctantly build partitions and gripe about costs.

For some, the new law comes as a relief. "All my life I've been absolutely immersed in black clouds of smoke, but I took it for granted," said historian Augustin Guimera, 52. "It was such a deep-rooted tradition I couldn't imagine going against it."

SOURCE : The Guardian