New life: Frankfurt

That's all, my dearest surreal readers! Almost fourty days later, there I was, seated on a plane heading to the same place where this crazy #roundtheworldtrip got started: happy, sad, tired, excited, overexcited, curious, impatient, uncertain, convinced, nostalgic..., happy.

- "And now what?" Dora never stops.... "Should we start a #roundtheworldtrip2 ?"

Frankfurt would welcome me back like this: I love Frankfurt

In order to finish this special edition #roundtheworldtrip properly, let me explain to you guys, my dearest surreal readers, that during the last three days of the trip nothing remarkable happened. Basically, I decided to show off/roast/rest my body -choose the option you prefer- on the beautiful, young and sporty beach of Tel Aviv and at the pool of my hotel:

- "Ups... Where is my six-pack?"

Following the experts' recommendatons about hydratation, the blood vessels of my body were of course flooded wih all kinds of healthy drinks: orange, banana, pineapple smoothie in the mornings, mojito(s) with lime and mint in the afternoons -emphasizing the fact that a mojito has mint and lime-, digestive gin tonic(s) in the evenings, and tanks of water throughout the day.

Between you and me, the trip was so intense, that all I wanted to do at the end was: sunbathing -there is an area at the center of my back where it is completely impossible to apply sun cream by oneself-, and structuring all the experiences lived. Chispa & Dora were totally overwhelmed.

- "What a trip! The world is definitely full of great people, fascinating places and soooo many opportunities... Now it is time for you to decide where to keep writing your story".

Being totally confused, I take another sip of my mojito. The lime mint odor comforts me, while I observe from the sides of my broken colourful mirrored sunglasses the multiple selfies-taking people around me. I decide to take my own selfie. Here we go:

My selfie

When this crazy #roundtheworldtrip got started, Dora’s penthouse was definitely on fire but, somehow, we managed to rescue three pieces of furniture goals: 1) patience; 2) spontaneity (let us say that my life has been always so structured and organized); 3) fun.

In summary, nobody can take away the good times we had: "Que nos quiten lo bailao". 

A big THANKS to you guys, my dearest surreal readers, for always being there. With these special nineteen posts, I have just tried to share with you guys some of the moments -sometimes fun, sometimes hard- of this crazy adventure. And believe me, no matter where I was all this time, I have felt that you guys were always close to me (except in China where the blog was blocked):

The world is so big and so small at the same time.

- "And now what?" No idea. I guess, now I will just continue following my heart, whatever that means...

But for the time being, let me tell you, my dearest surreal readers, that my traveling team -Chispa & Dora, Lola, Murphy- and this españolito will be off for a while.

We just need a break, but we will be back soon, sooner than you think, and... with a big surprise.

Stay tuned and above all, enjoy the summer! 

Arigato gozaimasu y hasta pronto. (👋)

New life: Petra

4:00am: 
A bus full of colourful people departures from Tel Aviv heading to Eilat, 350km south from Tel Aviv, to approach the border with Jordan. This españolito and his traveling sleepy team is on that bus.

4:30am: 
If I thought that the bus was full, I really have no idea about truck utilization. A second group of tourists coming from Jerusalem joins us at some point of the highway in the middle of the night, and then, yes, all together we manage to fill the bus completely. Cost optimization strategy from the tour operator? "Whatever... Today is going to be a great day".

An American woman -from Dallas to the world- occupies the seat next to me, where my legs are stretching. She immediately offers me the possibility to exchange seats, but I am so tired that I just manage to get my body into a snail position and the snail falls asleep. Being trapped by Morpheus -among lambs, beeps and little angels-, I feel like my not-at-all-small-sized head is resting on her shoulder? I tend to think not but, honestly writing, I am not 100% sure...

After some minutes of sleep, and many more hours of zig-zag driving through the desert of Israel -the sensors of the bus never stopped beeping-, we know each other’s life quite well. I definitely love the variety of interesting and nice people that I am meeting in this crazy #roundtheworldtrip.

Zig-zag driving through the desert of Israel

8:45am:
We arrive to the border crossing point with Jordan. Let the show of passports, dollars, visa, never-ending security controls and toilette begin...

9:40am:
A different bus, full of the same colourful people -no one was deported-, is about to departure from the border of Jordan towards Petra, which is approximately 150km north from where we are.

9:45am:
Welcome to Jordan. Another American woman -from L.A. to the world- comes to me and asks me:

- May I sit down here next to you?
- Yes, of course. Immediately we start talking to each other, as if there would be no tomorrow...

With her permission, I will summarize her story briefly: She was born 86 years ago in Vienna (Austria). Before the World War II, when she was six years old, her family had to move to Palestine because of their religious beliefs (incredible but real). After the War, she returned to Germany to study medicine in Munich. I think she and her husband -also a doctor- stayed there almost ten years before they both moved to Los Angeles, where they developed their careers and had their own family. Nowadays, she just enjoys traveling by herself, rather than staying in her house in Beverly Hills. I am just amazed by what I am hearing...

12:15pm:
- Yalla, yalla, habbibi! Suddenly, the tour guide starts shouting those words to the world; or to us... We believe that he is not talking about the weather, which by the way in Jordan is hot, dried and hot again... He might rather be saying something like:

- Come on my dears, hurry up! So, we (dears) follow him with a lot of excitement. Wearing my favourite t-shirt, my colourful sun glasses and a standard Indiana Jones hut, I walk together with my new group of friends: the friendly couple from Dallas, taking care of me and my unprotected skin and also video conferencing live at the same time with their daughter in Dallas, and with the forever-young woman from Los Angeles (a real role model for each and everyone of us).

In order to not get lost from the group, we were told “habbibi, habbibi, yalla, yalla” not to stop too much for taking pictures during the one-hour walk through the mountains of Petra. However, at our age, I am sure that my dearest surreal readers will imagine perfectly our reaction:

- Yes, yes, habbibi, habbibi... Do you want another picture?!

13:00pm:
We see the golden camel! We see Al-Khazneh: the Treasury of Petra.

No words to describe it... WOW effect from the very first moment that, through the narrow last passage of the mountains of Petra, one starts seeing the temple carved out of sandstone rock.

Once being there, and actually also before and after, one has to use repeatedly the world-wide famous technique of “no thanks”. Kids, no kids, Pirates of the Caribbean -no kidding- and local people of all kinds, try to sell all types of souvenirs and services, but since I have been practicing that no-thanks technique so often in India last week, I feel pretty comfortable...

23:50 pm
We are back in Tel-Aviv. My body is not exhausted, is over exhausted. But the feeling of having seen the impressive Treasury of Petra (one of the new Seven Wonders of the World) makes me forget any kind of tiredness. I decide to walk back to my hotel through the lively streets of Tel Aviv: "I feel good na na na na na..."

Big hug to Dallas and to Beverly Hills. I normally hate these kinds of guided tours, but what I am learning in this crazy #roundtheworldtrip is that the world is not only full of amazing places to visit, but also full of amazing people, worth sharing a tourist bus, and much more with...

To be continued

New life: Jerusalem

“Would it not be easier to respect each other, live and let live? After all, all religions believe in one God, and I guess that God, whatever the name is, would wish the best for all of us, don’t you think?”

This intense thinking from Dora and the heat -it is twelve o’clock- makes me feel exhausted: “I need a sip of water”. As I walk through the streets of the Old City of Jerusalem with a half-empty bottle of water in my hand -the sip was quite long-, Dora can’t stop thinking of all the problems caused by religions throughout history.

And the origen of that history is right in front me:

View of the Old City of Jerusalem fron the Mount of Olives.

The walled Old City of Jerusalem is divided into four quarters: Christian, Jewish, Muslim and Armenian. At the same time that this thinking exercise is taking place, many images and stories from the Bibble start invading the territory of Chispa & Dora. “I need another sip of water”.

In order to understand this post properly, I guess that you guys, my dearest surreal readers, need to know that this españolito grew up in a very catholic family. Over the years my faith in the Catholic Church kind of evaporated, but the memory of the person who developed, produced and delivered this españolito to this world, was permanently next to me during the walking, thinking and water sipping in Jerusalem: I guess we all learn to live with them without having them...

I get goosebumps as I enter the church built by Kaiser Wilhelm in late 1800s, exactly on the place where Jesus Christ, according to the Gospels, was crucified and buried: the Church of the Redeemer. A nun on her knees prays over a stone; a stone where the body of Jesus was laid down after being removed from the crucifix and before being buried in the Holy Sepulchre. Another man cries over the same stone. A third one approaches...

Stone of Unction

I observe the scene from the distance but, when they leave, I can’t avoid getting closer and touching it. Impressed by the emotions, it takes me a while to keep walking towards the Holy Sepulchre, which is meters away from the Crucifixion point (Golgotha). A long queue of people are already waiting there: some of them are crying, others just taking pictures, but all of them are showing respect. I decide to wait...

One candle illuminates the darkness at the entrance of the Holy Sepulchre. Here I am, kneeling down touching the tomb, where Jesus Christ was buried and resurrected. I don’t even remember how to pray. I just close my eyes and feel...

The Holy Sepulchre of Jesus Christ.

Some bottles of water later, and after having seen almost every corner of the fascinating Old City of Jerusalem, I would be also touching the stones of the Western Wall (Wailing Wall) -most religious site for the Jewish people-, sealed with hundreds of thousands of little pieces of folded papers with, I guess, petitions of all kinds.

The "Wailing Wall"

Dora reactivates the thinking of one God and one wish:

“Would it not be easier to respect each other, live and let live? After all, all religions believe in one God, and I guess that God, whatever the name is, would wish the best for all of us, don’t you think?

Whatever...

To be continued.

New life: Tel Aviv

The world upside-down: Welcome to Tel Aviv!

This is exactly how I feel, upside down, while running happily along the beach of Tel Aviv early in the morning. The city is really cool: new, old, modern, historical and, above all, full of life. Anywhere you go, you find nice people, good food, nice bars, restaurants, the beach... Carpe Diem!

I run with a sticky smile on my face, even singing loudly from time to time the official song of this crazy trip -Dream on-, and also the other ones from my playlist: new life. If before yesterday I was totally down, today I am definitely up; tomorrow, only Lola knows...

But no matter what, always keep running and moving forward. I guess, this is what life is about; but I am just guessing...

The street of my hotel in Tel Aviv.

Anyway, after enjoying a really lovely and relaxing first day in Tel Aviv, I decided to discover the famous nightlife of the city. At this point of my life (thirty something...), I am not a nightlife boy man anymore, but being here alone, I somehow feel like giving it a try... Chispa & Dora were both shouting: go, go, go!!

Dressed like a perfect thirty-something-year-old western guy, who has been traveling around the world for the last five weeks (my favourite yellow shorts have developed some kind of graffitis), I enter one of the coolest rooftops in Tel Aviv: “Don't worry, the blue shirt is saving you; just smile...”

- One gin tonic please.
- Where are you from? The twenty-something-year-old waiter has an urgent necessity to know where I was from...
- From Spain..., but I have been lately everywhere but in Spain. ”I hope, he does not look to my shorts...".
- I love Spain. I lived three months in Madrid...

Immediately, he starts proving his Spanish skills, of course without me asking anything:

- Yo español, hablo, un poquito...
- Ah, pues muy bien... (Ah, very well Manuel).

After some friendly but going-nowhere conversation:

- How much is the gin tonic?
- Ah, you are not from the private event?
- No, not really. No one told me anything... “Great, just what I needed. Allí me colé y en tu fiesta me planté, CocaCola para todos y algo de comer”. (For my dearest non-Spanish readers, this is just a famous Spanish song of someone crashing a party). 

Suddenly I feel like drinking my gin tonic down in one.

- Don't worry. Pay your gin tonic -fifty one shekel- and just stay...

After some walking around -I don’t know you, and you don’t know me-, some pictures here and there, and when I am already seriously considering the possibility of ordering my second gin tonic, suddenly the nice Cuban music from the DJ is coitus interrupted by a man announcing something in Hebrew with a microphone. I assume, by the way people are reacting to his words, that he is asking everybody to get closer to him... Everybody starts laughing and clapping.

At that point of time, in order to avoid the question “and who are you?”, I decide that maybe it is time to retreat... "One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Turn left. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Turn left again. Open the door and take the lift. We are out. Mission acomplished..."

My batteries are full of positive vibes again and on the way back to the hotel, we will decide to change the plan for tomorrow (if ever there was a plan): Let us immerse tomorrow in the history of Jerusalem.

I am so much looking forward to it...

To be continued

New life: Tel Aviv (on the way)

As we go throgh the never-endig security controls at the Indhira Gandhi International Airport of Delhi, I can't believe that we are finally going to leave India. Chispa & Dora are overwhelmingly happy and relieved.

I am really sorry for those of you, my dearest surreal readers, who love India and might be sad reading my not very happy experience there but, believe me, I have just tried to write very carefully, from the bottom of my heart, how I felt from the very first minute we landed in Delhi.

Yes, India is a fascinating country full of history and really beautiful mausoleums, temples, mosques, forts etc. And I am sure, it is also full of nice people with good intentions and good hearts. However, seeing so much poverty and dirtiness on the streets, and so many people trying continuously to get something from you (how to know, whom you can trust?) was definitely too much for me...

If one can´t visit a city by him/herself, walking freely and quietly on the streets and searching for those, for sure, good people with good hearts, then it is definitely not a nice feeling...

Incredible India, yes, but unfair and hard as well.

...

As I wake up, we are already flying over Istanbul. Suddenly, I see the Bosphorus bridge: the bridge connecting Europe and Asia.

Willy Fog is not coming back to Europe yet, it is just the way chosen by Turkish Airlines to fly from Delhi to Tel Aviv. A second bridge catches my attention, and I take another picture... "Which one was it then the real Bosphorus bridge?" From that moment on, I would decide to take pictures of every bridge seen from the sky... Some days later, I would learn that there are already three Bosphorus bridges connecting Asia and Europe: Black Sea on one side and Marmara Sea, Aegean and Mediterranean Sea on the other. And for my dearest surreal readers, please see below one of them: the newest one.

The huge and very comfortable plane -Turskish Airlines is really recommendable- is runnig out of wine. One of the passengers is too excited, apparently for having left India some hours ago, and has decided to celebrate it on board together with Dionysus. Chispa & Dora are drunk of feelings: happiness, relief, freedom, nostalgia, curiosity, concerns, love...

During that celebration over the clouds, the official song of this crazy #roundtheworldtrip would be selected by the prestige votes of my feelings: Dream on (Amy McDonald). I am totally stuck in a musical loop...

Suddenly, a very friendly stewardess asks me to fasten my seat belt and put my seat back in upright position. I start seeing the beaches of Tel Aviv, and Chispa & Dora get an overdose of excitement while thinking about the implications of this politically unstable region in the Middle East. Israel shares borders with Lebanon to the north-west, with Siria -seven years later nobody really understands this war- and the Golan Heights to the north-east, West Bank and Jordan to the east, Egypt and the Gaza Strip to the south, and the Mediterranean Sea to the west.

The West Bank, the Gaza Strip and East Jerusalem are claimed by the State of Palestine, and most of these areas are occupied by Israel since 1967, as a consequence of the Six-Day war.

- "Here we are. Didn’t we want adventures?”

To be continued

New life: Taj Mahal

Agra 1666:

Mirza Shahab-ud-din Baig Muhammad Khan Khurramm, known as Shah Jahan, looks to the horizon. Since 1658, he has been living under house arrest, ordered by his own son, in the Red Fort of Agra. From his penthouse tower, all he can see is one thing: his wife.

View of Taj Mahal from the Red Fort (Agra)

Red Fort (Agra)

A few days later, Shah Jahan would pass away and could finally rest next to his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, in the magnificent mausoleum built in her honor: The Taj Mahal.

Agra 1631:
Arjumand Banu Begum is giving birth the fourteenth son of the muslim emperor of the Mughal Empire: Shah Jahan ("King of the World"). Arjumand, better known as Mumtaz Mahal ("Chosen One of the Palace"), is the favourite of the three queens from Shah Jahan. She has been always at his side, supporting him during the succession fights with his brothers.

Four years after succeeding to the throne, they live happily in a prosperous and, for the time being, politically stable empire. The Mughal Empire, extended since 1526 over nearly all the Indian subcontinent and part of Afghanistan, shines architectonically under the rule of Shah Jahan, while returning to a strict interpretation of Islam. Hindu temples have no chance with him...

But Mrs. Destiny, as always, had her own plans: Mumtaz Mahal would die in her last childbirth and Shah Jahan, plunged into sadnesss, would order the building of a mausoleum complex, across the Yamuna river from his own royal palace at Agra, to bury the body of his beloved wife.

The mausoleum was constructed completely in white marble inlaid with semi-precious stones by more than 20000 workers and 1000 elephants coming from all over India, Persia and the Ottoman Empire (Turkey). Two decades later, the most magnificent mausoleum in the world was ready to receive Mumtaz Mahal: The Taj Mahal.

Agra 2018:

This españolito is entering the Taj Mahl at 5:30am. Although my relationship with India is not at its best -actually it is at its worst-, I want to use the opportunity of being in Agra to see the sunrise at one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. The story behind the building amazes me, but I must admit that I am so much looking forward to leaving this country, that I am basically planning to go to the Taj Mahal, say hundred times "no thanks", take the picture and leave.

- "Dile a ese chico que se aparte de ahí" (say to that guy to move away). I hear in perfect Spanish how a guy wants me to step out of his picture. I move some meters away and continue my early morning walk through the gardens of the building. With those guys, to whom I was trying to destroy the picture, I would finally spend almost three hours walking and laughing together around the Taj Mahal. It is so funny to fight with the rest of the population to get the best picture of the Taj Mahal. I do not know if they will be reading this surreal blog, but anyway, thank you both for adopting me during those hours. It is just great meeting nice people anywhere in the world.

Taj Mahal: unexpectedly a really fun morning, and definitely a magic place: a teardrop on the cheek of time ("Tagore").

Next stop: Tel Aviv - Looking forward to leaving India... ("¡Tengo unas ganas de salir de la India que no me tengo!"). 

To be continued.

New life: Agra

“Seat: 31; wagon: A1 (hit and sunk)”.

This is all Dora can think of, while waiting for our “theoretically” express train that will take us from Delhi to Agra. Three days after my shocking experience at the main train station of New Delhi, here I am again -sequels are always better than the original ones, aren’t they?-, but this time with my whole team: my well-travelled black hand-luggage, my brand-new black backpack and my not-brand-new black tennis racket, all of them personalized with a Spanish-flag-colored ribbon from Our Lady of Pillar.

- “If I wanted to go unnoticed, certainly this is not the right way... Anyway, Agra, here we go...”

The platform is full of people: circles of families talking to each other; old and not that old women dressed with colorful yellow, orange and dark blue saris; kids jumping on the railway tracks, full of trash, to pick something up; old men crossing the tracks quietly before the trains arrive; dogs drinking water full of supplements, minerals and microorganisms, directly from the floor; young guys selling small wheels for the luggages; and us standing there under a ventilator, shocked by what I am seeing, and saying “no thanks” to everyone...

The train arrives and the passengers start, literally, jumping off the train still in movement. “Yuhuu! If you thought, you had seen everything..., here you are”.

While the train passes by in front of me, I observe that the second-class wagons have some sort of metal bars instead of a window glass. The very-big-rounded black eyes of the kids look and smile through them. “Maybe you should start smiling again...”

Suddenly, my today-light-brown eyes see the wagon A1 (hit and sunk) and I run towards it, steering my way through the crowd. I enter my wannabe-first-class wagon, full of curtains and small compartments. “What is this?” When I think that I have found my seat, I see three generations of an Indian family occupying both bunk beds of what is going to be our shared compartment.

- Hello. I announce my arrival pointing to the seat 31 with a kind of still-shocked smile, my backpack on, and my favourite t-shirt completely wet. “Isn’t it too hot here or is it just me always sweating like an Iberico pork?” They all look at me thinking: foreigner. 

The train starts moving and the three generations of my just met Indian family decide to start accommodating themselves in the compartment:

- “Please make yourselves at home”.

The daughter goes to sleep on one of the upper beds. The mother practices contortionism while sleeping on one side of another bed. The father sings and plays with his mobile, pretending to be ignoring everybody, from his straight-up yoga position. The teenager son is lost and seems to not be finding his place in this world, I mean in this train, so he finally decides to go to another compartment, I guess, looking for his freedom. And the grandmother, whose skin is decorated with all kinds of henna paintings, seems to be doing mental calculation; but no, she is just hungry and suddenly she starts eating rice balls with her hands...

- "So, here we are! Should I ask her to make a henna painting on my hands...?"

We arrive to Agra, and a new taxi driver -not as nice as my dear Sanjiv from Delhi- is waiting for me... My red-hig-level-warning alarm mode is still activated.

Anyway, tomorrow it will be a long-time dreamed big day: Taj Mahal

To be continued

New life: Delhi

- I will wait for you at the corner of that street. Sanjiv, my taxi driver, points to a street full of people, taxis, rickshaws, tuk-tuks, noise, dirtiness and never-ending street selling points...

- Ok, I hope, I will find you. I step out of the car at the main train station of New Delhi with a very insecure feeling. -Oh my God!! My trembling body, schocked not only by the high temperatures, gets into the multitude of people not really knowing where to go. Suddenly I see a poster next to a staircase: International Reservation Office.

People, dogs, bags and objects of all kinds lay on the floor. I do not even dare to look at the faces of the people. I just go run straight upstairs. A sleepy dog captures my attention while searching for the office announced on the poster downstairs. Everything looks like part of an old Bollywood movie -actually I never watched one-. Before this crazy #roundtheworltrip began, many people gave me all kinds of opinions about India -either you love it, or you hate it-, but there I was, with my more-brown-than-ever-impressed eyes seeing it in person.

The International Reservation Office is old, very old, and a couple of ventilators hanging from the ceiling move the intense air available in the room. “Thanks God, I have enough rupees with me because that guy is not accepting credit cards”. After almost one hour waiting, and hoping intensively to be in the right place, I get out of the office with my train tickets to Agra: one of the reasons for coming to India was visiting the Taj Mahal.

I go downstairs -the sleepy dog looks at me bored and without any expectation- and as I leave the train station, the heat slaps me in the face and my heart is about to jump out of my chest: car horns everywhere, people approaching me and shouting at the same time:

- Do you want a ride? Where are you from? Cab? Where are you going? Market there!

- No thanks. I ignore everybody politely and continue my way without looking at the faces of the people. Chispa is totally out of service and Dora has one single priority: to find the car of Sanjiv.

- “Where is he? I am exactly at the corner that he told me.” I look to the right, to the left, to the front, back to the train station. I see again the board of the International Reservation Office. I don’t dare to look down to the people laying on the floor... “And now what?” When I am kind of starting to think of a plan B, suddenly I see Sanjiv in the distance waving and coming to me.

- “Oh my God!” I almost hugged him...

That day, Sanjiv became my personal taxi driver for the rest of my stay in Delhi. My naive wish to discover the city walking through the streets and taking the bus and the metro -as I always do- disappeared immediately. After hard price negotiations with him -basically I accepted the amount of money he asked me for-, he drove me and waited for me at the most beautiful places from the Old and New Delhi.

My dearest surreal readers, it is difficult for me to put into words what I felt from the very first minute I set foot in India: unfortunately, not a nice feeling.

Anyway, here we are, so let us get the best out of it... Besides, we have two train tickets, right?!

Next stop: Agra (Taj Mahal)

To be continued 

The taxi from Sanjiv at the Indian Gate

Red Fort   

Humayun’s Tomb 

Man in white thinking 

  

Protective colorful mother 

Akshardam temple 

 

Jama Masjid mosque 

New life: Singapore

Good morning Singapore!

Here I am in the most luxurious and half-empty metro that I have ever seen. Where is everybody? Is it financially sustainable having such a luxurious metro, if there are not enough customers? Who is financing this?

Dora can’t stop throwing questions without answers. The very few people around me -does anyone want to squeeze me?- look like an exotic mixed version of Chinese and Indian people, and all of them having one thing in common: sandals. Apologies in advance in case this very basic description annoys any of my dearest surreal readers; it is never the intention from Dora...

I must admit that my stay in China was so intense that I did not even have time to prepare properly my trip to Singapore, so here I am in this luxurious half-empty train searching: things to do in Singapore. Yes, google works again!

This time, my traveling team, my bags, my tennis racket and this españolito arrived to the hotel without any single problem: unbelievable!! The very smily faces that welcomed us at the reception predicted a very happy stay: Smiling is contagious.

That same evening we went to the famous Marina Bay Sands hotel to see the night light&music show: very impressive the architecture of the building and the whole atmosphere at the Marina Bay. It seems that no one here cares about the electricity cost. How different life can be depending on your birth or residence place... Dora and her internal thoughts...

The day after, I woke up early in the morning -ignoring Morpheus and his capricious changing sense of humor- to go running. Although my body was a little bit rusted after one week of no running at all in the polluted China, and despite the humidity of the air, I could not eliminate the smile from my face during the whole running circuit around the Marina Bay: “Here we are... Who would have thought this two months ago...? Life is so unpredictable... “

After running, we visited the largest glass greenhouse in the world: Gardens by the Bay. It is facinating just walking around and being able to see all these varieties of plants and flowers. One feels like being in a another world. I know of one person, who would have loved so much being able to see this place. The person who developed, produced and brought this españolito to this world was a huge fan of all kinds of plants and flowers, and she could name them all, no matter how strange the name of the flower was. She was fantastic.

No idea the name of this flower but it is yellow: my favourite color

After compromising ourselves with the sustainable energy for the sake of our planet, we of course had a mojito at the most famous roof-top pool in the world. It is quite funny to see everybody, with or without couple, doing all kinds of poses and gestures in or at the pool with the skyline of Singapore as background, in order to get the best selfie: Darwin’s theory of evolution.

And that was pretty much my stay in Singapore: some walking through the streets next to my hotel to see that this country also has a history -although this time I did not deep dive too much into it- aside from the formel one and the luxury life, and that was it: Singapore always in my heart.

And now here we are at the pool of my hotel getting mentally prepared for the incredible India. I must recognize that I am really worried about the safety and healthy conditions of India, so I have decided to have an airport shuttle organized by my hotel in Delhi to pick me up at the Indira Gandhi airport.

My flight from Singapore will arrive to Delhi at three in the morning, so we do not want to take any risks... Fingers crossed that I will see the driver with a board and my name on it.

Dionysus help us...

To be continued 

New life: Shanghai

Shanghai 1988

LiNi, a happy thirteen-year-old Chinese girl is walking back home through the streets of the center of Shanghai. Three-roof dark brown brick houses color the center of the city, while the kids run and hide between them. As a big boat passes by in front of the Shanghai Bund, the side path of the Huangpu river is full of couples of all ages walking and enjoying a lovely Sunday evening. 

China is starting opening to the world under the leadership of Deng Xiaoping, and the city of Shanghai is starting growing exponentially and with no return.

The day after, LiNi will ride her bike to her school, like every other Monday. On the way to the school, she will pass by the Citybank of Shanghai, where LiNi’s grandfather worked for many years until the Republic of China was founded in 1949. 

In the 60’s, LiNi’s grandfather was sent to country farmland to do forced labors during the ten-year cultural revolution that took place in China from 1966 to 1976. That was a dark, bloody era in China: scientists, writers or anyone having worked for foreign companies or having western education, like LiNi’s grandfather, was treated as spion and sent to prison. LiNi’s grandfather survived and could reunite with his family in 1970.

In 1990, one year after the Tiananmen protests from the students against corruption were suppressed by force, one inspector from the CCP -Chinese Communist Party- knocked on the door of LiNi’s house. Her parents were not at home but LiNi’s grandfather, sitting on a couch with an injured leg and a mind full of black memories, took the note: The families living in those houses had to move to a new developing area outside of Shanghai. The government of China had unilaterally decided to exchange their houses for a new apartment on that new developing area of Shanghai.

LiNi’s grandfather did not say a word...

Shanghai 2018

As we are walking through the city center of Shanghai with an old friend of mine from my unforgettable Erasmus year, and with his girlfriend, I can’t stop imagining those streets thirty years ago. I am impressed by what I am hearing and, at the same time, amazed by what my depending-on-the-day almost green eyes are seeing: Shanghai, the fastest growing city in the world for the last twenty years.

My traveling team, my bags, my racket and this españolito spent three days in Shanghai with this old friend of mine -twentieth anniversary from our Erasmus year- and with his lovely girlfriend. Isn’t it lovely to feed everyday more than ten cats -Pablo and his friends- from their neighbourhood compound?

Coming out of Beijing and arriving to Shanghai, one can see immediately the differences of mentality between both cities: the tradition and the modernity.

Big XieXie to my friends from Shanghai -her name is not LiNi- for hosting me so friendly during those three days. From the first minute I felt like at home, but my #roundtheworldtrip needed to go on... And what a better way to say goodbye to China than cooking a paella at their place, without safran, but with a good wine from La Rioja.

And to you guys, my dearest surreal readers, I am sending you all my positive energy. Although the blog has still some date mismatch, we are slowly catching up. Many crazy stories are still to come. Happy to feel you all out there, somewhere in the world.

The world is so big and so small at the same time...

Next stop: Singapore

To be continued.

New life: Beijing roasted duck

Beijing, let us say, is a very beautiful and interesting historical city, but with some aspects that I personally did not like: for example the arguable education of some people. But this a very subjetiv opinion, like pretty much the entire blog.

Honestly writing, I got a little bit tired of people pushing me when entering or exiting a public place, not respecting the queues -“didn’t he see me also waiting here?”-, spitting on a very big scale in front of anyone and, in summary, not caring too much about others... But, again, maybe this was a wrong first impression created after staying there only four days.

When we came back from that surreal Yuyu-tour to the Great Wall, the funny thing was that I had a dinner with one of my best friends from Spain-twelve points. He was casually in Beijing on business trip. You can not imagine, or maybe yes, you can, the amazing feeling of hugging one of your best friends in the middle of a very crowdy street in Beijing: together till the end of the world.

Do you remember the Chinese girls that I met in Miami? Wendy and Fola. No? Oh my God -Dyonisus-, your memory brain cells -whatever they are called- are even worse than Dora: omega3- free round for everyone... You guys can click on their names to read again the post from Miami.

Anyway, in their honor, we were looking for the best roasted duck in Beijing. My new very friendly and polite Chinese friend from the full-of-marble reception of my hotel -the same guy, who sold me the guided tour to the Great Wall- had recommended me his favorite restaurant. For that purpose, he gave me a little piece of paper and some indications that I never understood.

- “Is this supposed to be a clues game? Ok, let us play...”

5F was the number of the floor in the shopping center and a bookstore was the reference to find the building: good duck luck. There we were, the two crazy Spanish friends, without mobile internet data or WiFiXiLing, following the encrypted hints available on that piece of paper, in a street full of shopping centers: Wangfujing, the most crowdy shopping street in Beijing.

After visiting two different shopping centers, going up and down, left and right -like dizzy ducks not roasted yet-, and with my friend putting continuesly the piece of paper on the faces of very patient Chinese girls, we found the restaurant: Da Dong.

Definitely, I was completely wrong about the kindness of the Chinese people; without their guidance, it would have been completely impossible to complete this clues game.

The roasted duck was delicious and a spectacle to see, and sharing this #roundtheworldtrip, at least one evening, with this crazy friend of mine was something that will always remain in this blog.

He disappeared in the metro station without knowing to which train station he needed to go -he is always  like that, so I was not worried at all- and I started walking back to my hotel through the famous Wangfujing street. On the way back -three hundred meters- I rejected several propositions for a drink or massage: no thanks, no thanks, no thanks, no thanks, no thanks...

I arrived to my hotel, I locked the door and I thought: “Ok, tomorrow to Shanghai”.

To be continued

New life: the Great Wall

The curtain rises and on the stage you can see two Indonesian couples, one British-Chinese couple, a five-member family originally from India but living in San Francisco, a four-member Chinese family living in Tennessee, an Italian girl, a Mexican, a Spaniard and... Yuyu. What is the name of the movie?

The Great Wall: same way up, same way down.

Seven in the morning and no one is showing up at the full-of-marble reception area of my hotel in Beijing. I am supposed to be joining a guided tour to visit one of the new Seven Wonders of the World, but, there I am alone with my brownish-greenish eyes half closed thanks to Morpheus. “ And now?”

After more than thirty minutes waiting, a very tiny and lively Chinese girl with huge black sun glasses -no idea if fake or real, the glasses, not the Chinese girl- holding back her messy hair, comes to me very excitedly and asks me if I was the españolito with whom she had talked last night:

- Hurry up, we are late. One of the other tourists was too late this morning and now we need to catch up.

- Yes, let us go! Let us see who runs faster... “I don’t know why, but I think that your friends from the jade factory and the tea house -also included in the tour- will not suffer from this delay”. While we literally run towards the bus, Dora, a little bit evil-minded, can’t avoid having that thought,

I don’t know where and when was the last time that I hired a guided tour but I recall perfectly saying to myself: never ever again. So, here I am now sitting in a small old Chinese tourist bus full of unknown people. “At least there is air conditioning”.

- Good morning my dear friends, my name is  我也覺得 (Chinese symbols selected randomly to express what I understood) but you can call me: Yuyu.

- “Great, thank you”. I feel like two fingers are trying to pull up both side ends of my lips.

- Today I am going to be your tour guide to the historical and  impressive Great Wall. On the way to the Great Wall we will be visiting the Ming tombs and a jade factory, where, by the way, we will have lunch.

- “I knew it... Have fun!”

- Can you understand my Chinglish ?

- Yes!!! Everybody answering at the same time.

- Good, then let me explain to you a little bit about the history of my beautiful country: China. The first parts of the Great Wall were ordered to be built in 221 BC by King Zheng of Qin, who united China basically by conquering the states of his neighbours, and thus became the first emperor of the Qin dinasty. But the main portion of the Great Wall, what can be seen today, was built in the fourteenth century during the Ming dinasty, in order to protect ourselves from the invaders and rebels from Mongolia.
On the way to the Great Wall, we will visit the Ming tombs, which are at the end of the Sacred Way and aligned with the Fobidden City and the Temple of Heaven in Beijing. Do you know the Feng Shui...? In China, it is very important the harmony of things... The interaction between the five elements: fire, water, wood, metal, earth... The balance of the Yin and the Yang...
The last emperor was Pu Yi from the Qing dinasty until 1912. Don’t confuse with Qin (the first one). Qin, Qing, Qin, Qing... Years later, since China was very poor, the Japanese -bad bad bad- invaded our territory... Mao Zedong finally won the revolution and founded the current People’s Republic of China on October 1, 1949... With Mao, China started to recover slowly but we were still very poor because we had to return the money lent by Russia...

After quite a lot of non-stop-fast Chinglish talking from Yuyu, everybody in the bus is already sleeping -the power of Morpheus-, but she does not care and continues with her monologue. I realize that there are two or three heads in the bus still straight up and kind of listening to her, and my not-at-all-small-sized head is of course one of them. Dora is totally absorbed by what the teacher is explaining. I feel like one of those good students at school sitting in the first row with the hand continuesly up.

- Mrs. Yuyu, Mrs. Yuyu, I have a question: were the Mongolian really the bad guys of the movie?

Anyway, at one in the afternoon -six hours after departure- we finally arrive to the Great Wall -main objective of the tour- and Yuyu says:

- My dear friends, now you have two hours to walk along the Great Wall, remember that we still need to visit a tea house on the way back to Beijing, so I recommend that you take the cable car up to the top of the mountain -170 Chinese Yuan- to optimize your time. And the most important thing: don’t go to Mongolia. Remember always to walk same way up and same way down. Repeat with me: same way up, same way down...

In summary, and now seriously, the Great Wall is an impressive and breathtaking experience. Over 8000km of wall built by persons? There we were, my new really nice friends from the guided tour and this españolito, finally taking pictures like kids, as if there would be no tomorrow, which can indeed be dangerous, because some stretches of the Great Wall are actually quite steep. What a memorable fun day!

Please have a look and I see you all very soon, my dearest surreal readers, in Shanghai.

To be continued

Ming

Ming tombs