Atravieso ahora la tercera fase de un viaje: los recuerdos, imágenes fragmentadas en sueños nostálgicos, hasta que vuelva a ver esa tierra verde, que siempre me emociona al verla desde la ventanilla antes de aterrizar...
...y para acabar una copia de Big Fish a la escocesa...
Nacemos sin buscarlo, en un mundo dado, con unos humanos dados. Unas reglas, una historia, una política, unos clichés, Una concepción del bien y el mal. No podemos elegirlo...O Sí ¿cuándo se deja de ser niño?
Well, this is it, that's the end of this trip. I was singing this song all the time in the bus heading the airport. It's funny, because it's used to be sang by scottish, about Scotland, and I was a spanish singing about Scotland, but coming back to Spain. Given the fact that has been my true one experience alone abroad, without friends or family, maybe I started to becoming one of these outsiders that I've always love, pilgrims that doesn't know from where are they exactly.
My father said me once that the pics without loved people always ends in the rubbish. I'm starting to realize it. Because travelling alone, your family is the people you meet along the way, and all of these moments will remain in your heart almost forever; even more the ones of your first experience.
These days were not holidays, I've been working, and most of the time I had not time to think about travel, or even speak correctly. But even that, I've enjoyed the work in the land; I've met Scotland entirely, on its own essence, from the soil, plants, water and wood, rock and burns, througout the monuments, bridges, benns and glenns, until the people and the cosmopolitan cities. That's the kind of experience you can't have it in a ordinary trip.
Everyday, everyhour the weather change over you. You can't expect nothing but to learn to accept your fate. Don't be insolent: if it's raining, go to the bothy, take a coffee, and wait. Enjoy it. If becomes clear again, you will see all the land coming to life and sparkling, every flower, every leave, all Scotland smile whe the sun comes. It's true, they don't have so much sun, but they really know how to make the most of it.
I can't forget Elizabeth and Keith, my lovely hosters; the opened the gates of their big and outstanding house, and the ones of their hearts; my dutch guy Brett, the one with wich I've shared most of my days there, I've worked with you mate, that's the great way to know someone, specially if you result injured working!
Brett is that kind of guy that in the beginning you think: "He never may be my friend" -I don't know why. I started to talk with him the first night with the kind of trust that all the spaniards have. But surprisingly, the guy resulted to have a couple of neurons, and so much as time went by. We had a lot of things in common, after all, and I was able to share a lot with him. We're not the same, we think so different in many aspects. What we could speak together about these things. We love to read, we have a great creative imagination, love the forests, Scotland, to talk, to travel, the girls (the deal mean that the ginger ones are for me).
I guess we did a interesting couple. He's the guy who doesn't like to carry the map of the city we're visiting, I'm one of these who sing eeeeeevery time. We saw Edinburgh, and Perth together, and he show me the Fudge Kitchen (as he loves to repeat me every day-hour-minute!) I love you nerd! You're young, and still a little bit extremist in a few aspects, but that has been a bloody pleasure to mee you, Lord Brettio.
The second month in BlairAdam's we meet for a couple of days "the two italians", as we called them until we knew their names, Lapo and Niccòlo. I was the only "mediterranean guy ruling in Blairadam's" until they came. But finally, it was further great to have them, they were a mediterranean breath in the north. Niccòlo is a musician too, and we share italian music one night ( Sorry for that, Brett!) I will learn how to play them Nico!
Lovely evening the one we met again each other and their italins friends, lovely girls. We went to another well-known pub but I don't remember the name (*note: I never look the name of the pubs, since I lived in Murcia, so the custom remains in me, suddenly. I'm sure Brett will remember).
Their names were Rita and Chiara. To he honest I fall in love with them a little bit, they were lovely. They were studying in London and we shared a great supper in Last Drop in Grassmarket.
I think it was during the supper, looking that funny team sharing experiences and laughing, when I realized two things: the one is that the Mediterranean Sea has its own signature in the people, as long as italinans and spanish are cousins, as much as the argentinians.The second things I thought was that I really loved to see a dutch, a spanish, a group of italins, two brazilians, a lovely german couple, and a lot of scottish in the same bar at the same time having a great time and joking about eurovision on the tv. No more nationalities ever, leave this political invent for the nerds: all it exist are differences, lovely differences in appearance; but the human soul are the same. All you need is a smile, and the will to know the other one (a beer always makes it easier!)
I really felt at home with the italians. They were not "pepperonis" at all ( *pepperonis= that's the name of the italians who walk proud and stupidly at the shore of the beaches;)
At the end of the night, I was thining in the past days there in Blairadam: I tried not to hear or listen any thing in spanish, in order to achieve a good intensive exposure in english. But the truth is that this is the real world, many languages, many accents fighting together, at the same time. I shouldn't close my eyes to that.
I'm trying to write all he experiences I've had, but it's impossible to bring to mind all the things. But that's the increbile thing: everyone of us have our own film without scripts
How could I forget to Beatriz? The one who opened the door of her own house! (and Cesar's of course...) Thank you so much Beatriz for all this moments, to show me Edinburgh for my frist time, and go with me to all this places, -specially to Carlton cemetery to see your family-, the wisthlebinkies, the group of spaniards, the museum...thanks a lot, I've no words -but we'll meet again soon!
It was impressive to meet this enormous group of spaniards. We meet in a pub at one time, but they kept coming all night! So many persons with their own story, it was great. Sad stories, succesful ones, depends on many things. I even met one paisano who played football, and he told us how -ejem, badly- many scottish footballers played in his team! Ok, for one of the few things the spanish could be proud, let's point out it...Victor B may not be agree, because you hate us!;-) Thank you so much to show me Cramond Island, and give me a lift to Glasgow! I'll see you too again mate!
And if I should become I stranger, you know that it would make me more than sad...
Thanks to Carmen S, she started the spaniards meeting in facebook wich allows me to meet everyone of them, including her. She has quite a good job of my sector, and I'm proud of her, because she has built her life there.Thank you so much for this evening in wich you let me see the 9th GoT episode in yours!
Nice to meet you too, Lara, I hope you will keep playing the violin! This girls if the first ginger-spaniard girl I met!
Lázaro, thank you so much for what you did. Thanks to you, it's easier to see my improvements. You will always be my T-man -you know what I mean- I'll tell you if I start full contact!
Ramsany, so please to meet you, we need more guys like you. I could talk with you for hours; a great guitarist, a good reader, a great outsider maybe, like me. We know things anyone more wants to meet.
The truth hurts, isn't it? I remember him surrounded of books, films, lp's,antiquities, a couple of cats, a computer, and three outstainding guitars. He was the guitarist in Freedom's Children, a brave band of the 60's in South Africa against the apartheid; search for it in internet. He travelled a lot even in America, and has a great knowledge about music and history.We finally forgot to have one pic together!
The farewell's evening was so sad. On friday I meet Brett again to say goodbye, but I felt a bit better. I don't want to be silly but I met Laëtitia, from Normanday, a region that I'd like so much to visit. She is going to replace me as workawayer in Blairadam. So I though that I'm leaving, but she's coming, and maybe that's the way of life. Everybody walk his own path, meeting great people, and saying goodbye to another great people. She's lovely and I'm sure she will do an excellent job.
It's said that the travels always change you. Must be true, because I'm not able to remember how I was before, but I suspect that I'm totally diferent. I feel myself so much brave, like the sensation when you're saling with the wind hitting your face. And that's why I'm writting this letters in my blog. Not much people read it, anyway, also I don't care it so much given that this is a "box of pictures" as I call it...
but maybe that could be useful for anyone, focus in this image:
Yes, nothing is really difficult. It seems to be a silly thing, and if you have never felt the sensation of not to be capable to do the things you love, good for you. You don't need that. But for the rest, or the ones like me who dream with so many places to go, so many things to study, so many people to talk, so many instruments to play, work in high skilled jobs, or the most important, help this bloody sick world, I tell you: just try what you want. Your will es enough to achieve what you want.
In my case, I want to work envolved in international relations, antropology or travelling. That's my will. I know now that I would be able to live in any place. If you really know that your will is to teach, you will teach, and you'll enjoy it. If your will is chemistry, you'll do research and work in a laboratory, and you'll do it well.
That's my point: the world, is so small now. It has good things, it has bad things.Maybe more bad things instead good ones. But it makes it simplier. And there's still beauty in the world. Let's take it.
I will come back soon, but until this moment, thanks to everybody, you made it possible!
Ok, la canción que he puesto pertenece al folk inglés, pero ésta me recuerda mucho a Blairadam, ya que la solia cantar trabajando en los huertos...
En esta ocasión traigo un pequeño reportaje sobre un Ceilidh que pude disfrutar en Perth, una ciudad con un minúsculo casco antiguo y con una historia impresionante, tanto que incluso estuvo cerca de convertirse en la capital de Escocia para siempre, si no fuera por el asesinato de James I, que indujo a la reina a huir y coronar al heredero en Edimburgo.
Ciudad además desde donde se extendió el legado de John Knox, quien pronunció su primer sermón en St Jonh's Church. Se dice que es la ciudad más pequeña de Escocia, porque está entre 1 y 2 pulgadas (por supuesto, es broma: a los parques de la ciudad se les llama North Inch and South Inch!), y si la visitáis podríais alojaros en el hotel más antiguo de Escocia, el Salutation Hotel. Una ciudad tranquila, sin complicaciones...hoy día; si queréis más información, internet tenéis...
La noche de mi visita fuí invitado a un Ceilidh, que formaba parte del Perth Festival y en el que tocaban los "Galivanters", lo que viene a traducirse por "los que van de ronda". Fue una sorpresa encontrar gente joven, aunque como esperaba habían muchas más chicas que chicos. No pude disfrutar del baile, ya que pocos días antes tuve un accidente en la rodilla que me dejó lisiado varios días, pero al menos pude disparar unas cuantas foto, y sentir algo de envidia de mi compañero, quien a diferencia de mí, no quería pero sí podía bailar! Bueno, como pasa en estos casos, el que no quieras no importa nada!
La música resultó ser lo que me esperaba, un folk sencillo y "bailable" con algunas canciones emocionantes y algún solista nostálgico que cantó "Every River" de Runrig y "Caledonia", ambas las canté con él, por supuesto...
La ceremonia se os acabó de improviso, ya que tuvimos que salir disparados de ella al darnos cuenta que íbamos a tener que correr si queríamos coger el autobús, yo para Kelty y el compadre para Dundee; yo llegué por los pelos, corriendo con una pierna por las calles adoquinadas, y Brett aunque tuvo que esperar, llegó a su destino -por medio pelo-.
Así que volviendo de noche en el autobús, me prometí saliendo de Perth que encontraría otro Ceilidh y me vengaría de esa noche de silla...
Everyday, everyhour the weather change over you. You can't expect nothing but to learn to accept your fate. Don't be insolent: if it's raining, go to the bothy, take a coffee, and wait. Enjoy it. If becomes clear again, you will see all the land coming to life and sparkling, every flower, every leave, all Scotland smile whe the sun comes. It's true, they don't have so much sun, but they really know how to make the most of it.
Brett is that kind of guy that in the beginning you think: "He never may be my friend" -I don't know why. I started to talk with him the first night with the kind of trust that all the spaniards have. But surprisingly, the guy resulted to have a couple of neurons, and so much as time went by. We had a lot of things in common, after all, and I was able to share a lot with him. We're not the same, we think so different in many aspects. What we could speak together about these things. We love to read, we have a great creative imagination, love the forests, Scotland, to talk, to travel, the girls (the deal mean that the ginger ones are for me).
I guess we did a interesting couple. He's the guy who doesn't like to carry the map of the city we're visiting, I'm one of these who sing eeeeeevery time. We saw Edinburgh, and Perth together, and he show me the Fudge Kitchen (as he loves to repeat me every day-hour-minute!) I love you nerd! You're young, and still a little bit extremist in a few aspects, but that has been a bloody pleasure to mee you, Lord Brettio.
The second month in BlairAdam's we meet for a couple of days "the two italians", as we called them until we knew their names, Lapo and Niccòlo. I was the only "mediterranean guy ruling in Blairadam's" until they came. But finally, it was further great to have them, they were a mediterranean breath in the north. Niccòlo is a musician too, and we share italian music one night ( Sorry for that, Brett!) I will learn how to play them Nico!
Their names were Rita and Chiara. To he honest I fall in love with them a little bit, they were lovely. They were studying in London and we shared a great supper in Last Drop in Grassmarket.
I really felt at home with the italians. They were not "pepperonis" at all ( *pepperonis= that's the name of the italians who walk proud and stupidly at the shore of the beaches;)
I'm trying to write all he experiences I've had, but it's impossible to bring to mind all the things. But that's the increbile thing: everyone of us have our own film without scripts
It was impressive to meet this enormous group of spaniards. We meet in a pub at one time, but they kept coming all night! So many persons with their own story, it was great. Sad stories, succesful ones, depends on many things. I even met one paisano who played football, and he told us how -ejem, badly- many scottish footballers played in his team! Ok, for one of the few things the spanish could be proud, let's point out it...Victor B may not be agree, because you hate us!;-) Thank you so much to show me Cramond Island, and give me a lift to Glasgow! I'll see you too again mate!
And if I should become I stranger, you know that it would make me more than sad...
Ramsany, so please to meet you, we need more guys like you. I could talk with you for hours; a great guitarist, a good reader, a great outsider maybe, like me. We know things anyone more wants to meet.
It's said that the travels always change you. Must be true, because I'm not able to remember how I was before, but I suspect that I'm totally diferent. I feel myself so much brave, like the sensation when you're saling with the wind hitting your face. And that's why I'm writting this letters in my blog. Not much people read it, anyway, also I don't care it so much given that this is a "box of pictures" as I call it... 
