Blessing in disguise

Picture this scenario:

You are living somewhere, you got offered a job; excuse me, a shit job. Why shit you ask? well, shit because not only it was insulting (325€/month, my friend's room was 400€/month for fuck's sake!) they even charged you if you wanted to live in! I have a bit of self respect and ignored the offer.

Things gets better. You got offered a job in the South. Faro, a city in which I found a bar that sold 70 cent beers. You moved there with all your hopes and dreams only to be told while having a pizza that you are only going to get paid a minimal fraction of what you were offered during the message exchange. Then, you even got locked out of your previously agreed upon accommodation and a day later actually got kicked out.

But then, things actually got better. Aced an interview to move back to the place I had been wanting to move back for a while. After three weeks of "training" in Lisbon I learnt more Portuguese language than all of my prior years living there, so I'll take that as a very positive experience. Four stars, I'd live in Lisbon again. I had a very small but very, very nice groups of friends. Normally it takes me a while to get on the swing of things when I move to a new place, this was not the case in Lisbon.

After those three weeks in Lisbon, I finally moved back to Ericeira (from now on just E). Then things started to not get better anymore. I mean, I was living in paradise but felt going to jail instead of work. The first few weeks I was living in the hostel, not because I wanted to but because I had to.  Anyone who has lived in Portugal know how difficult is to find a room and how ridiculously expensive is rent. Two months into the new job and my friend told me I looked miserable behind reception. Maybe I did. I was back into the corporate world. One of the main reasons why I fucked off from Guatemala was to leave that stupid world behind, to not be part of the system, to not be just a number, not to make money for someone that didn't give a fuck about and didn't even know me. But there are always two sides of the story? No, wait. That's not it. You use that sentence for something else. While living in E, I had my own life outside of the hostel. I have only managed to do that two or three times so far. I got to eat pregos any day I wanted. Well, except Sundays but you get the idea.

Work environment sucked so much and I was to blame for so many stupid shit that I started to take photos of how I left the hostel before leaving because, since the kitchen and common areas were not locked at night, any-fucking-one could come at whatever-fucking-time and do whatever they fucking wanted and leave said fucking kitchen and fucking common areas completely fucked up. Of course, it was my fault because I was the last one to leave and there was no one staying in the fucking hostel working the night shift...

When my contract didn't get renewed, or in other words, when I got fired. I felt like it was the end of the world, like I was completely fucked. Maybe I was but then I started to see the broader picture. I started to think outside the box. I was miserable there. I didn't enjoy working there. My colleagues didn't like me and I didn't waste my time not liking them back. I just didn't care. For them, I was doing a lousy job but guests thought otherwise. I had reviews mentioning me by name praising the good work I was doing.

But hey, it was not only shite. I was living in motherfucking paradise! I rediscovered surfing. My flatmate told me after a session "I have never seen you smiling this much since you moved back". I couldn't stop smiling that day. It was amazing.

It was the first time I truly enjoyed summer. The first time since the summer of 2012, when I was in Colombia. I celebrated my birthday in Cartagena that year. Last summer? my colleagues "forgot" that it was my birthday... lol. I don't care. I don't need an excuse to go out.

So, like I said. First time in 7 years that I was able to enjoy summer again. I went to see my friends in Sagres, I wanted to check out the hostel I used to work for because they changed name and image. Jesús, the owner, did an amazing job. Go and check it out: The Lighthouse Hostel (this was not paid advertisement).

I went to Lisbon to see my friends there countless of times. I hung out with new friends made in E. I finally got see Porto! Two roadtrips (Galicia - Portugal - Andalucía) and already a few years living in Portugal and never made it up there before last summer. Verdict: I will go back! I did a small roadtrip from E to Peniche with a friend of mine and her friends. I was thankful that I had a good sleeping bag, we slept at the beach but it was fucking cold!

All in all, it was a great summer. I wouldn't change anything. Met so many new people, disconnected from others but that's the cycle of life.

Summer was coming to an end. I didn't quite looked for a job because I was busy enjoying life! Besides, to find a job during the peak of summer you have would have to be very lucky because every business have to be already prepared for the season. Unless some emergency would happen, there were no openings.

I sent emails to hostels to many cities in Portugal and a few in Spain and I only had one reply. Actually, it was not a reply. 2 minutes after sending the email, I got a call from the owners.

I was still in E. I couldn't afford to pay rent anymore if I had none of the monies coming in. I decided to move to Sevilla, Spain and 2 days later I was on my way here, where I'm writing these lines. Sitting on your couch, craving a beer and surprised why I'm even inspired to write without alcohol! Maybe is because you are sitting next to me, doing your own thing but next to me.

That's why that after all the shite I had to go through, that brought me here, allowed me to meet you. And that's a blessing in disguise.

My Donostian & Sagresian Life

So, it has taken me a while to write. Sorry but I'm not sorry. I was not inspired to write shite before but this morning was different. Somehow I felt like I needed to write something. A feeling that I haven't felt in a long while...

I have Vodka Juniors in the background (their music have helped me write before), a super bock next to me (which also have been really helpful in the past). I just need to put an order to all the thoughts I have in my head and somehow transform them into words.

I lived in Ericeira for a few months, a bit over 7 to be exact.  Season was coming to an end and I had to decide where to go next and spend the winter. 

At the risk of sounding like a cheesy motherfucker, love made me move to Donostia (San Sebastian in Spanish). I've been know for choosing awesome places to settle for a while: Praha, Kraków, Tallinn, Berlin, my lovely Graná, Ericeira, Donostia and now, Sagres.

There I was, expecting a super wet and cold winter in Donostia. Yes, I'm not used to sub zero temperatures anymore. Long gone are the days which I could use two layers and it was -25ºC. Now, I cannot even think about it! I was using two layers and the tempratura it was close to 0 and sometimes 1 or 2 degrees below. Being 15 minutes in my new hometown and started to rain and a bus splashed me because it drove on my pothole. That reminds me of an unofficial rainy season sport in Xela (Guatemala) called "splash the tourist" in which the driver tries to get the unlucky foreigner as wet as possible. Once, I was walking along some street and I saw how the car changed lanes to try to splash me! 

The life in Donostia was awesome. The city itself it a "bit" posh for my taste... actually it is ranked as the most expensive city in Spain but there are ways to go around it and make it cheaper. I lived in the old town, in what I think it was the most Basque street in the entire town. The food is something else. I think I ate the best tortilla I have ever had during my stay. I once readn an article that depicted the top 10 restaurants around the world... a few were in Gipuzkua, that's the province in which Donostia sits, for those of you who didn't know.

I had a beermance with Keler, the local beer.  While I had better, there was something about it, maybe that it was brewed locally. Regardless, I loved the taste and I would go to the chino and buy a couple and practice some kalsarikännit but sometimes not in underwear.

While I was living here, I had the opportunity to live a really Basque experience. I knew local people and when I went out to the pub, I always went to the local bars where Spanish was the second language. In one of those bars, I met Maripili... (inside joke).

One of this life changing experiences was going to cider house. For Odin, for about 25€ they give you an omelette, cider, bread, cider, pork chops, cider, more bread, more cider, actually, unlimited cider! the first time I was in one of those cider houses, I was with a group of people but the second time... I still don't know how I manage to eat an entire omelette and a kilo of meat all by myself! there are videos to prove it! and to top that, on the way home I stopped at McRubbish to get some fries! To think that only a few earlier I disliked cider.

Basque Country and Navarra are known for being very green, actually the whole north, and the people are really into hiking. one of the hikes other than hiking back home from the bar is if you go from Donostia to San Juan Pasaia.

Flowers started to bloom. Weather became warmer. Days started to get a bit longer. The only thing that remained the same were the astonishing sunsets. I admit it, I do have a thing for amazing sunsets. Sunsets at La Zurriola were... just amazing. One thing I'm sad about, is not being able to go to La Zurriola and watch the sunset while drinkin Keler not wearing two layers with you.

As spring was coming I had to leave. I had an opportunity to go to Porto, which I have never been before but I had to turn it down as it was not good for me. I considered going back to Ericeira but that not an option anymore.

That way I kept looking and found myself in the lovely Vila do Sagres. Not that I have never heard of the place before. I had been to Sagres a few times. Once on my first road trip ever and then a few more times while I lived in Lagos.

Sagres life is slow and easy. Unlike Lagos that has a shitload of restaurants and bars and people doing stupid shit, in Sagres everything and everybody is at a slow pace.

Life went on from home to beach to home to beach to home to swimming pool. Going to the pub occasionally. I didn't learn to surf and I finally gave up on the idea that I will ever learn. I'm not a sports person and the idea of drowning doesn't quite appeals to me.

Apparently this year was one of the busiest seasons ever. Sagres was crowed, although not as crowed as Lagos that all summer long is a pain in the ass to just even walk in the center, let alone attempting to spot to lie on the beach. I've never had that problem here. Which brings me to this: I have never been a beach person and still, this year I think I went to the beach more times that the rest of life combined!

Is know that The Algarve have some of the best beaches of Portugal and the world and Sagres was no exception to that rule. While Sagres have 3 beaches less than 20 min and one less than 40 minutes walk, having a car opens up the possibility to visit beaches that the public transport doesn't reach them. Such as the case of Ponta Ruiva that is literally in the middle of nowhere. There are no stores, restaurants, beach bars. You have to have a car to go there. You have everything that you want to eat and drink.

Others, on the other hand can hitchhike to them. Like Castelejo, close to Vila do Bispo. I actually hitchhike to and from Castelejo once.

There is the hippie beach, Barranco, where you can find... errr... stuff. I spent my birthday there with you when sleeping in the van.

I swam naked at the other beaches, Mareta, Tonel, Beliche (the 3 closest). I said it before, I went into the ocean many, many times this year.

For obviuos reasons, the best beaches to watch the sunset were Tonel and Beliche. For those of you who don't know why are they the obvious places, is because Mareta is on the South Coast. Of course, sunset from the light house (Cabo San Vicente). Why best you may ask? because is the Southwestern-most point in continental Europe.

I mentioned Vila do Bispo before. Nothing interesting here except for the fact that only at the cider house I ate more. There is a small restaurant in which you can give your palate a real treat. Not only is cheap as fuck you will eat as never before and be treated super nice.

Anyways, my time in Sagres has come to an end. It was an amzing what, close to 6 windy and chilly months. Last year in Ericeira I never went into the ocean. Not even once in 7 months. The first time this year it was in Donostia, well my feet but that's better than nothing. In Sagres? A few days after I arrived. And that was just the beginning.

Overall, my stay was nice. Don't know if you know that if you work in a hostel is worse than working in a fucking kindergarten and this was not the exception, even worst if you add a princess or two... But I love a phrase that my mum uses quite often: "treat them like you would treat the sound of the rain",  meaning that you just don't pay attention,  you just hear the sound in the background... I actually used that technique quite a few times with guests as well.

Ahead of me, 8 hours of work are waiting for me. The last 8 hours of this chapter. The last 8 hours before I embark on yet another adventure. The last 8 hours before I get on a bus that will take me back to Galicia. The last 8 hours fighting with children bur here, we called them volunteers. The last 8 hours that are the beginning of the final countdown to be with you again...

I never expected to write this much. Now I'm back to my normal state before my shift: not an early bird nor a night owl but some form permanently exhausted pigeon

Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.

I had this draft saved from a while ago but decided to write about something else.

This is me, trying to write more often than last year. I don't think I will ever write as much as I did back in 2012. I wrote less than half in 2014, 2015, 2016 and the lonely post of this year than I did in 2012. Maybe the reason is that that was the last year I moved a lot. That's the year I did Central America twice plus, Colombia and Ecuador.

Many times  I have a few ideas of what to write but I seem to never get them "on paper". I even have a draft saved... with nothing written in it. That's how inspired I was. That's how inspired I am!

I haven't been really inspired to write at all. But the other day, actually it was so long ago and I don't even remember who it was with that I was having a conversation with that made think a lot: our lives are made of the decisions we made on a every day. Some are more important than other but, in my opinion, they are all important.

Sometimes, you have to live the rest of your life with the choices you make. Sometimes you have to live and regret that fraction of a second that changed your life forever. Sometimes that fraction of a second happened a very long time ago... but still there. Like that piece of popcorn stuck in between your teeth that you just can't get it out. 

Anyways, I wanted to write something as a way to cope with the burden and it worked. Well, it's working.  The piece of popcorn is still there but now I'm finding a way to live with it. The day will come that I can use dental floss to remove it once and for all!

This is a small piece (of shit writing) but I wanted to write something not with 6 months in between the last post. I'm happy.

Happy Easter, by the way!

The Super Bock Chronicles: Ericeira

First off I want to apologize for not even writing bad crap... well, I always write crap but I would like to think that is good crap and not bad crap.

I had to take a look at what I wrote last year to know what was it what I wrote...

If you know me personally, you know that I love Estonia. Or loved Estonia? Nah, I still do but not as much as a few years ago. That all changed after I moved to Ericeira.

I would need to be a poet to describe Ericeira and even that wouldn't do justice to describe it. The first couple of weeks I was there it was very tough. The weather wasn't helping, spring forgot how to spring until maybe mid May. The hostel was empty so I had noone to talk to but as the days went by, I started to slowly meet new people that later on became my friends.

As all the places I've lived, it's not entirely of the place itself what makes me like it but the people I meet while I'm there. It can be ten people or it can be just one. 

So back to Ericeira, small fishing village by the Atlantic Ocean. Although I wouldn't say it's a fishing village anymore, instead I'd say that is a surfing village. Some world well known companies have branches there. Some well know companies sponsor surfing competitions there. I don't surf... yet.

One of the things I liked the most was that unlike The Algarve, which gets flooded by tourist and the order of languages you see on the signs are: English, German, French, Spanish, and maybe Portuguese, Ericeira gets a nice balance. Of course you see tourists and every Wednesday one of the bars dyed in blonde (lol). The balance was good enough to try to learn Portuguese.

I have my two favourite place to go for a bite and for a beer(s). I became somewhat friends with the owners... I have local friends! I didn't meet any Portuguese when I was in Lagos. Not saying that my times there were bad, of course not! Lagos was a great experience but Ericeira is a greater experience!

Overall, I will always cherish my times in Ericeira. Like I do with my lovely Graná. I will always go back over and over. 

Maybe next year I will write Sagres? kidding, from now on I will try to write more often.

is traveling a curse?

In 2012 I met a German guy that said "you are one of the few permanent travelers that I know and the only one from Latin America". I felt proud of that, very proud.

 I always thought of traveling as a blessing. As something not many have the chance or the courage to do it. 

That has changed...

Lately I have been finding out about some upsetting things that made me changed my views about my own travels. 

It all started to change when I went back home from Latin America in 2012. It was very intense, not what I wanted and definitely now what I expected. I spent a few months back home and that made me realize that I wanted to take things slower. Staying in one place and get to know the environment surrounding me. It worked and I loved it.

I got that part sorted. I think I have been successful when it comes to that. 

But there is one more important thing that long term traveling has prevented me from: to have a normal life and a routine and to have a partner. 

Yes, I escaped from that kind of life when I started this journey but after almost 7 years I can honestly say that I am tired. I still love hitchhiking but I don't feel the rush I used to feel  a few years back. Now I always get anxious when I'm about to start thumbing.

It always prevented me to have a partner. Traveling can be very romantic, I could brag about all the places I have been. But when I met someone special and she has to go or I have to go is when it stops being romantic.

Friends can also influence a lot saying things like "you don't have future with him, he's a traveler and eventually, he will end up leaving you".

Or it could be me the one actually leaving. Which has also happened in the past. 

I just did a small week-long trip. No hitchhiking, only buses and ride sharing. It was definitely more comfortable and faster (I didn't have enough time to hitchhike anyways) but I still got tired.

All in all, I think I'm ready to hang the backpack. Maybe this is just a temporary phase.  I don't know if this a common thing when you've on the road for so long. Only time will tell...

where do I start?

I have been meaning to write something for the past (almost couple of) month(s), but where do I start?

Maybe I should start where I left off...

The long bus ride from Madrid to Lisbon. Ticket lady told me that the bus was full but it wasn't. Was a long ride to Lisbon and a short car ride to Ericeira. I was exhausted after the long flight and long bus ride but I've finally made it! I was in the place that will be my home for the season... who knows, maybe more?

Like many of you know already, I always have a hard and long time adjusting to new places. There had been exceptions but this have been the case lately. I arrived to Ericeira still in low season which made things even harder.

Ericeira was small fishing town. Still have a fishing industry but now instead of fishing the major industry is tourism. Ericeira is regarde to have some of the best surf the world has to offer. I'm sounding like a brochure.

It's smaller than Lagos therefore it doesn't boost the same amount of people. That's where I found the charm of this little town.  It's also home of one of only five World Surfing Reserves around the world. A couple of Kilometres from where I live there's a beach, Ribeira d'Ilhas that host regularly a date in the ASP World Tour.

The first month felt like a year. I barely knew people but that's changing now. I'm meeting more people. There were few guests I could interact with but is beginning to change. Slowly but steady.

A bit over a month ago, a intern started working so I have someone to talk to. At least in the mornings and a few weeks ago, a girl started working here as well,

Things are looking good. I have already found a few favourites: restaurant, pub, snackbar...

Like everywhere in Portugal, here is very cheap as well: beers for 80 cents! They're small but the feeling of paying 80 cents for a beer is unbeatable!!

I have been exploring the area so far. I have been to Cascais and Peniche. Other two surf spots in the country.  Cascais is nice, much bigger than Ericeira but nice. I've heard so much about Peniche and my expectations where so high about it, that once I got there, I was actually a bit disappointed but it not lived to the reputation I've heard it had. Maybe Baleal, not far from Peniche is nicer...

I have three goals for this year: learn how to surf, learn Portuguese and learn how to code.

Let's see how it goes...

I leave you now with some photos I've taken since I arrive.

Home is where the heart is...

I met up with some friends to go to a flamenco show? yup, I avoided flamenco my entire stay in Granada (Andalusia is its birthplace) and I ended up going to a show in my native country... oh well. I was impressed one bit, I don't like this kind of music but then he sang about Albayzín... my old neighborhood when I lived in Graná. Hearing the words about Albayzín brought a smile to my ugly face. Happy days.

Since the "lovely" people at the Mexican embassy didn't want to give me the stupid visa to fly from Cancún and since I was not going to book another connecting flight I had to come up with a plan B. Come up because like most plan Bs, they don't exist until you need them. 

I left JH more than a month before and had been working three times a week in a super nice and cozy pub that goes by the name of Whiskey Den. But the time had come. I had to leave. I needed to leave. It was not all fun and games in these 5 months in Guatemala. Had ups and downs but overall was nice. Met nice people. Met not so nice people, unfortunately.

My aim for the day was to get to either El Tunco or San Salvador. I was leaning towards the beach as it would be easier to leave from there than from the city. 

I probably wrote about this before but I cannot remember 100%. Even if I did, it was most likely in 2012. Hitchhiking in Latin America is super different to HHing in Europe. In LatAm you just need to look like a foreigner and put your stuff in front of you and that's it. My level or paranoia grew quite a bit during my times in Guatemala to the point that I was refusing many rides because I didn't feel confident enough to get inside the car. Surprisingly enough, I felt very confident in Nicaragua but I'll get to that soon.

I had to routes to choose from: the Panamarican Highway that would get me to San Salvador but I would have to cross Guate City with all my shit so... no.  The other route was to leave Antigua towards Escuintla and take highway CA2 towards El Salvador. It was a bit longer but nicer views and it would take me through El Tunco where a friend of mine was waiting for me. 

I chose the latter route.

It was 8 in the morning. I stopped at McRubbish for a coffee to go. By 8:30 I was already on my way. First and second rides came easy. By noon I was about 50 Km from the border. Unlike other times that I don't have a time frame I wanted to be in Nicaragua for the weekend meaning that I had to sleep that night in El Salvador. I was quite in a hurry given I had to take a stupid flight that would take me from Costa Rica to El Salvador to Colombia to the Dominican Republic. Success! By early afternoon I was in El Tunco. Next day's destination: León, Nicaragua.

León was not that far away, less than 500Km but that included two borders. Hitchhiking in El Salvador was a breeze. While I was in the queue for the passport check in the Honduras side of the border, someone offered me a shuttle bus, straight to the Nicaraguan border for 6$. "What time are we leaving?". "Now". That guy had a different concept of time than me. That now was almost two hours later. He was waiting for the bus to fill up. All the passengers agreed to paid 8$ so we could leave straight away. Yay, I was on the way to Nicaragua. The van was overheating so we stopped in some town in the middle to fix it. Yay, we lost almost another hour.

I knew that my tattoos would get me questions asked. Everything was fine until I said I was from Guatemala. Before: "gringo", "traveler", "welcome to Nicaragua". But everything changed the second after I said where I was coming from: "do you have more tattoos?", "what do they mean?", "are you in a gang?".

Finally I was in lovely Nicaragua. I stayed in a nice little hotel owned by an Andalusian guy, the name: Hostal Flamenco's...! León was nice. It was not like I remembered it but nice still. Nicaragua is quite cheap. I was craving for Gallo Pinto. I wanted to spend the most time in Nicaragua and the least in Costa Rica. There is a nice beach close to León, Las Peñitas. Then it was Granada. Not quite my Graná but still as nice as I remembered it. León was exactly the middle point between El Tunco and San José, Costa Rica. 

All good things have to come to an end. I needed to leave Nicaragua and somehow get to Costa Rica to take the flight to the DR. The flight was in the afternoon but I wanted to make it to San José the day before so I could check, double check and triple check everything.

A friend of mine arrived to Costa Rica the day before me. I wanted to meet with him so I went to the hostel that he was staying only to find out that he checked out in the morning. The hostel was overpriced (like everything in Costa Rica), not the nicest. It offered free coffee but it was only free if you ordered the, you guessed it: overpriced breakfast! The staff was far from being friendly: I was not shown the room, bathrooms, bar, anything! I found out what time was check out time through another guest. Horrible and expensive experience. I would've slept at the airport if only my flight was in the morning. 

Ahead of me were 18 hours of traveling, between flights and layovers.  I had to spend my last Colones in some overpriced coffee (3$!) because I couldn't change them into Dollars because they "don't have 1$ notes". First stop: El Salvador... where I was just a few days before! Two hour layover and a flight to Bogotá where I would spend the night at the airport. No point in going outside. Flight arrived at midnight and the flight to Santo Domingo was at 8 something.

 I had never been to the Caribbean. I didn't know what to expect. I had no idea about anything on the island. I knew it had amazing beaches and expensive all inclusives on those beaches. I arrived to Santo Domingo but the flight to Madrid was from Punta Cana, some 200 Km from the Capital of the Domincan Republic.

I had to no idea where to stay in DR. I completely forgot that it was Semana Santa so CS was a no no. Everybody was on holidays or already hosting other people. My older brother used to travel quite often to Santo Domingo a few years back so I asked him if he had contacts.

The DR has a lot of tourism, tourism made for rich people. There is no public transport to and from the airport. The taxi is about 30$ I've read somewhere that you could jump in inside a guagua (Dominican bus) and pay 1-2$ but lucky me, my brother still had some contacts in SD. That's how I had a driver waiting for me at the airport. The guy even held a sign with my name written in it! Never had that before happened in my life. I think it was the first time in the history of human kind that a driver was waiting for a sweaty and smelly backpacker. These people who I'm super grateful not only paid for the taxi but also for a small hotel in the old town part of the city. The hotel was really nice. Fancy, at least for me. I mean, for now. I've stayed in fancier hotels when I was younger and I was traveling with my parents but that was ages ago. I don't even remember when was this. I think I was still in high school...

I only had one night in DR. Or so I thought. I went out for dinner to a fancy restaurant and had a massive meal consisting in pasta. The restaurant was overlooking a very pretty square, everything was colonial, inside and out. DR was expensive, at least for me. Not for the flock of tourists that were drinking and eating everywhere.

The time to leave had arrived. I needed to take a bus to Punta Cana Airport. One thing caught my attention: From Santo Domingo to Punta Cana/Bávaro the bus stopped only at the Punta Cana airport, not the Santo Domingo. The same, coming back from Punta Cana, the bus would stop at the SD airport but not PC airport. What if you needed to get from one airport to the other? You either pay a taxi of you're fucked. I would've been fucked.

At this point I was not impressed at all about the DR. Well, at least not in good way. In Santo Domingo most of the people were rude and not nice. If I was standing in a queue someone would try to cut in the queue. When I was about to board the bus and was waiting for the driver to take my backpack someone try do cut the line!? for fuck's sake man, wait for your fucking turn, the bus won't leave without you stupid motherfucker...

I made to Punta Cana airport with plenty of time to spare. I had everything in order: I had the printed ticket to Madrid. I had a printer ticket out of Europe. I had my passport. I had everything... at leat I thought I had everything in order.

Dominicans are super racists: they had a queue for Latin Americans and one for non-Latin Americans. Finally I made it to the check-in counter:
- Where is your visa?
- I don't need a visa.
- Dominicans need a visa to get to Europe.
- I'm not Dominican.
- You will have to wait until the supervisor (decides to) comes here.
Ok, no worries. I don't need a visa, this will be solved quickly. Flight was at 21:15 and it was still not even 17:00. I still have time.

Well, supervisor showed up more than an hour later and confirmed what I was telling the ground personnel for the past hour: Guatemalans DON'T need a visa! Ok, with that out of the way she began the check-in. I have to say that I had already paid the 20$ in exit tax. "This is a one way ticket, where is your return ticket?". I showed a ticket from Belgium to Turkey. Let me talk to the supervisor (again). I talked to the arrogant and ignorant supervisor and she ignores me. She instead, take many people at a time to some room to ask them question because they suspected that their passports were fake! It was humiliating, I was sitting by a column while all the people were getting their boarding passes. I have to say that were a shitload of Spaniards on holidays taking that stupid plane. After about three hours and just before the plane was about to take off, that bitch tells me that they cannot let board the plane because the ticket is not valid. I try to reason with her that Schengen rules states that one need a return or onward ticket out of the Schengen area, not a particular country, that I could fly into Spain and fly out of Estonia if I wanted to. She doesn't know what Estonia is. Her ignorance is amazing. I mean, the level of ignorance she possesses is just unbelievable. She thought (and probably still thinks) that if a person flies to Spain, the return/onward ticket has to be from Spain because "Spain won't let out to go to another country to take another flight". I missed the flight. I tried one last time to reason with those idiots but there was another woman that was super upset. She was partially checked in but was not let board the plane. Her luggage was on the way to Madrid, she wasn't. FUCK YOU EVELOP. YOU SUCK! YOUR GROUND PERSONNEL SUCK! YOU ARE THE WORST AIRLINE! FUCK YOU AND GO TO HELL STUPID CUNTS!

I had to spend the night at the airport, obviously. I was too upset to even think about what I was going to do. I was stuck in the stupid Dominican Republic. I tried to get some sleep. I'll think of something tomorrow.

Morning came. I asked where I could eat something as there was only ONE restaurant in the fucking international airport! There is a shopping center about 10 minute walk from the terminal. I found a café to sit a loiter the internet. I ended up staying there until closing time. The ladies that work there were super nice. Specially one, Chavela. She gave me water without asking.  I was supposed to be in Spain Sunday morning, instead I was having a coffee still in the DR. Yeah, yeah I know. Why are you complaining, you're in the Caribbean, you're in paradise. Paradise? yeah, for rich people! I sent some couch requests to people near by but it was Semana Santa: every body was out or hosting someone already.

That whole Sunday I thought about what do do. I even thought to go back to Guatemala and send Europe to fuck itself. I was worn out. I was tired. I needed a shower. I changed tshirt because the other one probably (most likely) stunk. Went to the café again. Found another ticket, leaving Monday evening. I booked the ticket with the help of a good friend of mine. Fuck the ticket from Belgium, this time I had a return ticket to Guatemala. I was to leave the stupid island Monday evening at 22:10.

The time came. I showed up at the counter. Again, a queue for Latin Americans and a queue for non-Latin Americans... da fuq DR!? What's wrong with you? I gave my passport. The guy scanned it with some X-Ray/UV/IR device but that is not enough so he asks me for my ID. According to international law, the ONLY valid form of ID for a person in a foreign country is their passport. But I agree and gave my ID.  He scans it with the X-Ray/UV/IR device and finally give the OK. All's good. I've flown Wamos Air before and have no complaints of any kind before, why would I start now. Gave my passport and then I'm not in the fucking system!!! What the hell is going on for fuck's sake!!!??? Come on Wamos, don't let me down. I have high hopes for you, don't let me down.  Supervisor goes to two different terminal but this one is not a bitch, like the Evelop one. Everything's good. False alarm. I'm given the boarding pass. Everything is alright. I'm headed to the X-Ray machines and then to passport control. See you later suckers!!!

Not quite.

The police guy passport control man askes me were I was before. I'm confused and don't know the exact dates. He's testing me, he's looking at the stamps in the passport. He asks me where is my visa. For the millionth fucking time: I DON'T NEED A VISA!!! He then takes my passport to his supervisor. All this is happening when I'm trying to board out of the country, not getting in. The uniformed cunt says out loud, in front of me and other people: "I've always thought of Guatemalan passport as fake, I mean, look at them! they seem very fake to me". I said to myself: idiot. Then he asked me for my ID, which he liked more. While all this is happening the police guy passport control man is always looking angry and serious. Then another guy joins and ask where is the visa to what the uniformed guy says that Guatemalan don't need a visa. I'm nervous. He says that everything is OK. When we're about 1 meter from the control booth he called us back. "How much money do you need to get into Europe?". How the fuck should I know, a shitload that I don't have? I said 500€ minimum between cash and card, while showing my debit card. "OK, cool. I was just asking because not long ago there was a Colombian guy that wanted to go to Europe and didn't have any cash or card with him. I sent him back to Colombia". Hmm, I thought that at least I would get a free flight back to Guatemala instead of getting stuck on the island. Now, the police guy passport control man changed completely his attitude. Now he was smiling and even apologized for all that shit! I made it. Now I only needed to wait for a couple of hours more to board the plane and then 8 hours later I would landing in Madrid.

8 hours later I was landing in Spain but there was something that kept bothering me. I was in plane where half of the seats were occupied by Dominicans. There was probably a valid (and annoying) reason why DR is super tough in letting people board planes. Got to Spanish passport control. I gave my passport. Woman asked me if I had a return ticket to which I showed the ticket I was not asked to show leaving DR. Asked me where I was going to stay. I said hostels but the booking were in my mobile and the battery died. Stamped in. FUCK YEAH! I WAS IN!!

I didn't want to book the bus ticket to Lisboa just in case. I had to rush to the bus station. When I got there I bought the last ticket to Lisboa! It wasn't because during the whole ride no one sat beside me. More space for me.

I celebrated going to a café and bough tostada de tomate y café con leche. It was not the best that I had but I couldn't care less. I was back in Spain and by that time the next day I would be in Portugal, but that's for a different post.

That was the story of how I got back to Europe.

stupid visa problem strikes again...

I went to the Mexican embassy the other day to get the stupid visa to fly from Cancún back to Europe. I had one visa before but it was only valid for 6 months. 

I saw an ad on facebook of a company that can renew US visas. I took a look a it and just like I thought, it was very dodgy. But I checked the website of the embassy in Guatemala and indeed the visa can be newed if it expired no more than 48 months before. I'm still within that limit.  Last time I just send the passport to the travel agency along with the money (to pay for the visa) and got back my passport with a brand new visa.

Now, the process is the same as applying for the first time meaning that I have to ask for an appointment and might not be interviewed. Might.

For both countries, México and US I need to attach bank statements to the application. Bank statements that I don't have. Well, I do but they are from 7 years ago and the ones I need to show are from the three months prior. Mexican embassy told that I could go back with the stupids bank statements before noon. Of course I didn't. 

I was very disappointed and sad. I started to think of another way to get to Europe. I thought through Panama and the Dominican Republic but the flight from Panama to DR is double the price than the one to Belgium. 

Then to put the cherry on top of this disappointment cake, I received a message from my former boss in Portugal that I won't be working there anymore unless I have a working visa! For fuck's sake, is there a super natural power that doesn't want me back in Europe!?

Maybe I should go back to South America but then there is another problem: I need a fucking visa to enter Perú!!! And that is a huge country that could stop me from going to Bolivia, Chile and Argentina.

FML

New Year

I promised that I was going to try to write more. This is me trying to deliver that promise. 

New year, new post, new crap.

It's been three months and 3 days since I got back to Guatemala. A few weeks went by and I already had the first visitor and in the following weeks a friend of mine whom I haven't seen since Roskilde 2011 is coming in a couple of weeks. A couple of more and a good friend from Kraków is coming! And I'm in the process of convincing a guy I met in Portugal to come to Guatemala. Yes Ricky, it's you!

Three months went by, I have been working for 2,5. The last time I was here, I also stayed for three months but I didn't work. I couldn't find a job. That added the melancholic depressive stage I was going through was not not good. Not good at all.

Things are different now. I do have a job. I can put my mind to other things. My mind can drift away from reality for a few hours and listen to travel stories. 

Once, my good friend asked me if I was envious of people traveling (when I was working in Tallinn). I said that I was not. Actually, guests were jealous of me when I said that I had been traveling for X amount of years.

I'm at the beach. I'm staying in a Surfhouse in the Guatemalan Pacific. Makes me wish I should have learnt how to surf in Lagos. I set myself the goal to learn how to surf when I go back. That and also to go kayaking, it was free for me to do it for fuck's sake!

I'm at the beach. I'm in Guatemalan Pacific. I shouldn't be in front of the laptop attempting to write. I should and go into the ocean. Hmmm, maybe not that but still, I should go to the beach and finish reading The Beach (for the second time). 

Yeah, I should to that. 

Small post but it's the first of the year and I wrote something last week meaning that if I continue at this pace, this year is going to be good for writing... I hope.

Happy New Years peeps!

PS. no beer or Vodka Juniors were used in the writing of this post. Instead, three cups of coffee and a healthy breakfast... That's a first!

Hogmanays

It's been a while since I last wrote something. I apologize on my FB page about this but in case you don't an account there (jealous) I'm apologizing again. I won't repeat what I wrote there. Instead, I will (try to) write some (meaningful) words, something like a end of year thoughts.

First of all, I wanted to come back to Guatemala to see my mum. I was not here for my dad's funeral. I couldn't come for this or that reason. It had been three years since the last time I saw mum and when I left she told the exact same words that my dad told me that morning when I started to travel. I was not going to make them come true. My mum is getting old and so am I. I had to find a way to come back. If you are a regular reader of my crap then you know the story. If you are not, go back here. I  almost fucked things this Christmas but I managed to save it.

I'm about to close my third month in Guatemala. I'm about to break the record of long of 3,5 months. I'm actually excited about this. Specially because it's not like other times that I was here. I'm not even putting the links here because I don't want you to read that melancholic dramatic shite. Fuck no!

Having trouble to write. Vodka Juniors in the back is helping. I need a beer but it's not even 7:30 in the morning. Even I think it's too early... is it? No! I can do it. I don't need from alcohol to write good shit. I do have a bottle of Quezalteca really close. Naaaah.

The other day we had a kind of family reunion. Well, my mum, brothers and their families and one cousin and his family (whom I haven't seen even before I took off!). It was nice. I was not sure that I was going to make it for reasons beyond my control but I did. Man, was I glad I did. I think it's going to be the only time in the upcoming months that all us four brothers are going to be together with mum again. And honestly, and even tho I always say this but I don't know when I'm coming back once I leave. I have a feeling that if I ever come back it's going to take more than three years this time.

Found bicuits. They will do the job... Besides, breakfast was not that big so they will have to do two jobs now! 

When I went to watch the new Star Wars I watched (again but this in a huge screen) the trailer for the new Point Break movie. Although it has a new plot, the core is the same. I think. Made me want to watch the old Point Break movie. While I was watching it, it reminded me of my days in Bura SurfHouse in Lagos. Me, trying to surf. Convinced that the movie was a lie because one cannot learn how to surf in one day. Unless, of course you're Keanu Reeves. Happy days.

So now, here I am, in the lovely and Very Noble and Very Loyal city of Antigua (I title give to the city in 1566 by King Felipe II of Spain) attempting to finish what I started to write more than an hour ago. I'm going to spend Hogmanay here for the first time 7 years! Wow, didn't realized was that long.

Let me try to recap where I was since my last time in

2008 / 09: Antigua, Guatemala

2009 / 10: NOLA, USA

2010 / 11: Szczawa, Poland

2011 / 12: Poneloya, Nicaragua

2012 / 13: Tallinn, Estonia

2013 / 14: Granada, Spain

2014 / 15: Granada, Spain

2015 / 16: Antigua, Guatemala

2016 / 17: only time will tell...

Back home?

I have been back in Guatemala for over two months now. Felt weird at the beginning. Actuall, still feels weird. Haven't seen most of my so call friends. For fuck's sake, haven't even seen the rest of my family!

When I was still in Europe I heard that a friend of mine (we were best friends before I left) was getting married. I was even invited his stag... Last week I saw that he's already married. Good luck with you new life mate, good for you.

It's been over two months and nothings has change since last time. No, wait! I'm not depressed like the times before! I mean, I miss you but now it's different. Now there are different reasons to be not happy. Oh well...

Anyways, I will writing about depressive melancholic shit and something happy. Right the next day after I arrived from Madrid I met Gonzalo. We worked in the same hostel in Tallinn, the he stayed for one night at my mum's.

The following weekend while attending a CSing meeting something very interesting happened:  a girl from Graná showed up (she's Austrian but going to UGR). We immediately hit it off. We began talking about Graná and I told her that I lived there. Long story short, we lived two streets apart and we went very often the my second house! But we never met in Spain, we met in Antigua!!!

This is the second time I work as a bartender and let me tell you that is fun! It's like in the movies: many people come to bartenders to have a chat. Ok, ok, not quite like in the movies, no one has cry over my shoulder but I get to talk a lot.

Like any other hostel I've worked before, I get to know people from all over. Some nice, some...

It's been over two months. I miss Europe and I miss my friends there. I almost don't have friends here anymore. Oh well.

Of all the times I had been back to Guatemala only once it was not depressing. I only stayed for less than three weeks... This time I'm about to break my personal record: three months.

My best friend was here. At the beginning was a bit weird and not nice but at the end I was really happy she got to spend a few weeks with me. Now she's gone.

It's early, I'm awake since about an hour ago. For the past few weeks I haven't been able to get a good night sleep. Last week I was going to bed super early, sometimes even before 21:00!!! But that didn't translate into good sleep, I had not nightmares but really disturbing dreams.

I don't feel like writing anymore. I had all this things inside my head that now I cannot seem to be able type them.

Am I home or will I be going back home...

Finally I'm...

... able to breathe normally again? The days of anxiety and panic attacks are over? I'm back home.

Anyways, after a couple of days in Madrid looking for a solution to my problem: how to get back to Guatemala. The solution came in the form of my friends. You know who you are. Thank you. Really, specially you who have been by my side since last year.

I found a ticket to Guatemala through Colombia. After checking, double checking and triple checking the fact that I don't need a visa the ticket was booked. I spent 4 days in Madrid. It was a long flight but the plane was comfortable. It was actually the nicest plane I have ever flown. I think it was the new Boeing 787 Dreamliner.

A friend of mine was waiting for me in Bogotá. After telling her that I had a layover, she invited me to stay with her. With directions in hand I left the airport and took the bus to her flat. We waited 5+ years to have a couple of beers.

The following day I had the flight to Guatemala at 14:20. I had several hours to kill. Decide that I couldn't leave Colombia without having an arepa so I embarked on the quest to find one. I Spent two weeks in 2012 so it was not really a must to go sightseeing. I had my important shit with me so I decided to play it safe and eat at the first restaurant I saw.

After eating, I went straight to the airport. I still had like 3 hours left before the flight.

After clearing passport control and the X-Ray machine a policeman told me to go where he was. "We are going to do a routine drug test". Dafuq!? I started to panic. After bitch slapping myself (mentally of course). I sat and thought "why the fuck are you scared about? you don't have any drugs on you. Chill". Then another policeman asked me to walk with him. They put me through a fucking X-Ray machine to see if I had drugs inside my body!? Cunts. And to put the cherry on top, they made put my stuff through the X-Rays again! Like after being always surrounded by policemen I was going to smuggle anything inside. Idiots.

2,5 hr flight and I was back in "The Land of the Eternal Spring". It was sunny and warm. I wore a polar to cover my arm tattoo. Realized that the stigma of a tattooed person is nothing nice in Guatemala. I had to fill out a form upon entering right? Country of provenance: Colombia. I had to write that because I left the airport, otherwise I would've written Spain. There is this traffic light, you have to press a button. If the light turns green, you are obviously free to go. If it turns red, well, customs have to check your luggage. The guy saw that I was coming from Colombia and immediately told me to go left (where you had to go if the light was red). Finally I made it out. I just needed to wait for my big brother. He told that he would pick me up.

It's nice to be back, except for the stupid jetlag that it was hard to get rid of. Now I can't seem to get a brake, now I have insomnia! I barely sleep. I'm sleeping like 4-5 hours a day best case scenario.  Am I still stressed out, maybe. Although now is for different reasons.

For a reason, I always have a tough time when I'm back home. Circumstances. I hope I can change them soon... very soon. This time is different though. I've gone out and met many wonderful people. Haven't met many of my friends, except for a handful. I guess that they all have a busy life and just can't make the time. It's understandable, besides I have been back for less than two weeks. I'm going to give myself time to adjust again to the Guatemalan rhythm of life.

I feel the pressure in my chest  building up again. Fuuuuuuuuuu...

Guess what I'm listening at the moment? yup, Vodka Juniors. I'm only missing the litre of Alhambra...

Stupid visas

I thought that last week was the worst. Little did I know what was coming... The worst day(s) of my life my Sunday 27th September. And to a lesser lever, the following Monday, although it turned out to be way better than I expected. And I was expecting the worst!

Saturday night. I barely slept due to the fact that I was really nervous and I had to print the boarding pass for the flight to Guatemala. The boarding pass was only available 24hr before the flight. The flight was at 19:15 Mexican time. Sunday's 2:15. Finally managed to download the stupid PDF. I tried to sleep a bit longer with little to no success.

Now I have to find a locutorio (internet café) to print the stupid piece of paper. Note that I had to be at airport no later than 11, which is the time that most locutorios open on Sundays. I began to panic. I bitchslapped myself (mentally)  and went to have breakfast. There, while drinking coffee I remembered that there is a hostel not far from where I was. I used to send them guests when I was working at Makuto. I decided to go and ask if I could print the boarding passes there. The receptionist, a cool Colombian guy agreed to it. One thing was out of the way.

Boarding passes out of the way, onto the next worry: leave Spain. With that out of the way I only had a 10 hr. flight, 2 hr. layover, 1,5 hr. flight and I would be hugging my mum. Everything would have been over by 20:30 Guatemalan time.

But Mexican immigration had other plans for me...

Rewind a couple of weeks. I'm in Madrid. Applying for the Mexican visa. They told me that I had to go to the Mexican embassy in Portugal because my passport was stolen in Portugal. They could not accept the police document in Portuguese. They told me about another option: if you only take a connecting flight and spend less than 24 hr. inside the airport, you don't need a visa because it's only transit.

Now fast forward to Sunday's flight. After 10 hr. inside a Boeing 747 I finally landed in cloudy Cancún. Two hours later I had a plane that would take me home. As I said before, Mexican immigration had other plans for me. The immigration officer looked at my passport. I told him that the embassy said that I don't need a visa if it's only transit. The look on his face was telling me that things were going from bad to worse. I went to an office. I told the embassy story. They said that they couldn't take me to the terminal. Exactly the opposite of what the embassy people told me a few weeks prior. I start to get nervous. I start breathing heavily. I control myself to not have break down and have a panic attack. Success. Policeman took me to an office, maybe 3x3 meters, no windows, just a desk and two chairs, a light on the ceiling. Very sketchy. He asked me again the same questions. The he asked me how much money I had. Later I realized that if I've had enough money, I could've bought my way out of the airport. But I realized this hours later. He left the office and I stayed there for what it feels like 3 hours. I was a nervous wreck. I don't know really, maybe 15 minutes later he came back to the room and said "there is no point of you being here, let's go back to the office outside". I don't know, they saw that I was not well and changed they're approach, began to treat me like a person and not like a common criminal. They talked to some people from the airline but they didn't want to "risk" taking me to the other terminal as the ticket could be fake and it would be their responsibility if they don't let me board the plane.

I was told at the embassy that a policeman would escort me all the time. I don't care I said to myself, as long as make it to the plane. Even if this means being treated like a criminal and maybe even humiliated as this would happen in front of the entire terminal. My goal is to get on that fucking plane.

Boarding time was 19:45. A few minutes before, the policeman told me "I got bad new for you, we are sending you back to Spain". My legs couldn't support me anymore, my world collapsed... "When is the next flight" I asked, "who will feed me?". He told me that airline will "take care" of me as I was their responsibility, after all, it was their fault to let me board the plane without the "appropriate" visas. "When is the next flight leaving?". By this time I've already lost the flight to Guatemala City. "You leave in 20 minutes, airline people will pick you up and take you to the plane". My world collapsed once more.

It has been a dream or fantasy of mine to fly for free. I finally managed to do it but I was going to wrong direction. What is going on? I was being deported from a Latin American country back to Europe? Am I in some kind of parallel universe? I mean, I've heard or read on the news of people being deported from the States back to Latin America. People being deported from Europe back to Latin America, Africa, the Middle East. But for fuck's sake, I was being flown back to Europe!!!???

Third time on board a B747. This time instead of Economy Class I flew Business Class. At least I was coming back in style. I was utterly exhausted. I barely slept the night before not say during the flight to Mexico. The seats in Business Class had more space. It took one hour less to fly back to Madrid.

The anxiety kicked in again. What was I going to tell border police. I left Spain the day before and less than 24hr. I was back? "I forgot my laptop" was not going to work. My mind started to fuck me up once more. I began to think that I was not going to be let into Spain again. That they were going to send me back to Mexico. Mexico won't let me in again and they were going to send me back to Spain. And so on. And so on. I would be stuck in international travel limbo. Or, I would be thrown in jail without the possibility to tell anyone about my well being. I was supposed to be in Guatemala but I was back in Spain.

Finally my turn to go to passport control came up. Gave my passport. "Motive of the visit, holidays?", I answered that yes, it was holidays. I was not thinking clearly. He noted the stamp of the day's before date. I explained the situation. The policeman looked at me and said what it would translated into "what a chore" but colloquially would mean something like "tough shit" while he was stamping my passport. I was in! They fucking let me back into Spain!

It was rough. It's something that I would like to never repeat. Ever. It's actually the fourth time that I was held in a sketchy room for questioning: first time was leaving, yes, leaving Bulgaria. But after an hour I made into Turkey. The second time was in Slovenia. I even felt that my life was in danger as the policeman had his hand on his pistol, yet I made into Slovenia after two hours. The third time is utterly ridiculous and stupid. I almost never made it into Nicaragua... yes, you read it right: Nicaragua!!! Their argument? I could stay there indefinitely. Yeah, right. I'm going to stay in a country with a shittier economy than my own. Sorry if any Nicaraguan is reading this but that how things are. And now at Cancun Airport.

While staying at my friend's flat here in Madrid, I learnt that a good friend of ours had it much rougher than I did. He was deported back to Asia after spending 6+ weeks in an Eastern European jail. Compared to that my experience was a walk in the park, and it was still tough. I am grateful that none of that happened to me.

Maybe some of you will never understand this kind of incident because you were lucky enough to have been born in a country with a good passport. I'm not complaining. Maybe a little. It's just how things are.

I know that someday I will laugh about this. It's not today.

But to put the cherry on top. I still need to apply for the stupid Mexican Visa. Why? Because I will come back to Europe and where is the cheapest place to fly from? You guessed it right: Cancún. FML.

The longest week...

Never in my life have I been so stressed out. I think the last time a week went by this slow was when I was 10 and it was before Christmas because I wanted to open the presents. When I woke up on Tuesday, I thought it was Thursday for fuck's sake!

I have been under a lot of stress lately due to the fact that I'm coming back home and I don't know what to expect. Last three times was not as good as I expected. This time tho, it looks promising.

I have a lot of shit going through my head right now. Like I said in the previous post, I was supposed to be México right not. But I'm not. I'm not even going! For fuck's sake, why everything is going wrong? It's been wall after wall after wall. But I managed to tear down those fucking wall with the help of my friends. 

Tonight is my last night in Graná. I feel weird. I cannot believe that I'm actually leaving. I know I said this before: "I'm leaving", but this time is for real. Last year I went to Lithuania, Europe. In march I went to Portugal, next door neighbor. This time tho, I would take me 12 fucking hours of flying! 

Part of me wants to stay, but I have to go back. I need to go back. I want to go back. I will for sure have cultural shock (written about this a few years ago, I tried to find the link but I couldn't). Anyways, in the wise words of Mr. Bob Marley: "everything's gonna be alright". I know so.

I'm sitting in the living room/dining room/kitchen. Liter of Alhambra. Trying not to cry. Failed. Trying to come up with some sane words. I have a lot of feelings right now. Words seem to be not enough express what I'm feeling right now. Another glass of beer. Vodka Juniors in the background, always. I still fantasize being in their concert in Portugal. Never going to happen unless I go to Greece. Fuck, I love their music! They are really dedicated to their music: they just released a triple album (45 songs) and they made the album available free online! Respect! Maybe I should get another liter. No, maybe not.

A couple of years ago I discovered that I write less crap when I'm drinking. I don't think is working today. My mind drifts away. I start doing other stuff, pour myself another glass of Alhambra. Try to write some more.

I should be already in Latin America but I'm not. I'm going back in two days. I know everything will work out. I need to find a job. I need to put my mind to work. Everybody else seem to do so well doing that but me, shite. I always have a tough time doing that. A few years ago someone suggested to plant some flowers. I don't have a garden back home.

Don't know what else to write. I have a lot in my head but I cannot put it into words. It's not the first time this has happened. I should pack. Maybe I'm being paranoid but I should really pack so tomorrow I can just wake up and go to Madrid. I need to print the boarding pass. I have to print the boarding pass. I cannot afford to miss that stupid flight. Stupid visas. Stupid borders.

What am I going to do the first days in Guatemala? I have no fucking clue. Catch up with mum obviously but aside from that I don't know. Being by myself is what kills me. And to top that, I arrive on a Sunday evening, the worst day possible I think., Everybody has to work the next day. We'll see (Russian accent).

I think I'm starting to write bullshit. Not that I didn't write that before but now it's coming out in bigger quantities. Maybe I should stop.  A liter a post, not bad I would say. I've done everything I need to get done this morning. I still need to pack but I did laundry this morning but by now it should be dry. I have to pack.

Don't know. Maybe expect the next contact from the other side? Maybe I will come up with some more crap before crossing the pond.

I'm going to have one last beer at Hamelin tonight with lovely people. That's nice.

One good thing tho. I am going to meet some of my good friends in Guatemala...