Bonnie Scotland

Hello invisible friends, how are you? Been a while now, but because of shortage of money and time I haven't traveled a lot, lately. Not much to say.
But the new year (the last one, maybe) started pretty well: two trips to Scotland in less than a month. What a lucky woman. I love Scotland and having a Scottish boyfriend helped the process.
So...as you know I leave in Manchester so the first step is to get to Edinburgh. Not a massive deal, you'd say, but Friday evening is not always the best time to travel...especially by train. Mega packed, obviously. And many, far too many, children, to my taste. They tend to shout and run a lot... and I really dunno why. Sleep. Read. Play! No... only shout and run. Luckily enough I had books, homework to mark, tests and jelly babies. at the end of the day, it's only a 3 hour journey... and a quarter...or so... forever, to me.
the funny things I noticed is, as soon as we crossed the border England - Scotland, cans of beer started appearing on the tables... interesting...

Edinburgh is as beautiful as usual and I highly suggest you 2 great place to go, for food and for a drink! Cheap homemade food: Morita Art cafe'! Yeah, let me specify... Japanese homemade food... and there's a REAL japanese guy preparing the food. So coool! (http://www.list.co.uk/place/33827-artcafe-morita/) We had some pretty cool stuff: omelette stuffed with nori, fried veggie dumpling, rice cooked in green tea sprinkled with dried salmon (amazing, you could really taste the green tea in it) and HAGGIS SUSHI!!! That was unbelievable... we really had to try it and it was seriously worth it! Well done Morita. We had Japanese green tea as well, the most flavoursome green tea I've ever tried. And it came in such a cute pot. Lovely lovely! thanks Morita & friend! :D

the other great place is The Halfway House, a super great and a super small pub! http://halfwayhouse-edinburgh.com/ It's on the way between Waverley station and the Royal Mile. It is seriously small, but very very cosy and friendly. Beers are good and even the whisky selection. Didn't get to try the food, unfortunately, but everybody seemed to agree that it's pretty good.

But the best part of Edinburgh is Arthur's seat. At least to me. The little hill at the bottom of the Royal Mile. Little... yeah, start climbing it, and you will see. I obviously blame my cold, but I really struggled. Because of my cold. But it is steep, come on, it really is. We didn't get to the highest point, but quite close to it. The view was seriously great, you could see all the way to the bridge on the Firth of Forth.

After Edinburgh we went to Kirkcaldy, cute town on the seaside and we had a looong walk along the coast. Dodgy background, let's face it, but the coastline is breathtaking. Lovely little villages dotting the sea... and seals! Soooo cute!

Nothing really exciting happened, to be honest, just a nice romantic week end. Yeah, you can vomit. It was a long romantic walk beside the sea and we've even seen rainbows. But we had amazing hot chocolate and cake! The best whipped cream I've ever had (outside Italy, of course).

As usual, Scotland is the best place in the world if you want to witness incredible views. And you notice that even more once you're back in England. From high mountains to rolling hill and then big cities... we went through woods and parks, and it was always peaceful... dunno how they manage. And I could see the stars! yea, I could see the stars every night... and I miss that... :(

Drops of water... and more about life and travel...

"We each have within ourselves the ability to shape our own destinies. That much we understand. But, more important, each of us has an equal ability to shape the destiny of the universe. Ah, that you find more difficult to believe. But I tell you it is so. You do not have to be elven king or human monarch or the head of a dwarven clan to have a significant impact on the world around you.
In the vastness of the ocean, is any drop of water greater than another? No, you answer, and neither has a single drop the ability to cause a tidal wave.
but, I argue, if a single drop falls into the ocean, it creates ripples. And these ripples spread. And perhaps - who knows - these ripples may grow and swell and eventually break foaming upon the shores.
Like a drop in the vast ocean, each of us causes ripples as we move through our lives. The effects of whatever we do - insignificant as it may seem - spread out beyond us. We may never know what far-reaching impact even the simplest action might have on our fellow mortals. Thus we need to be conscious, all of the time, of our place in the ocean, of our place in the world, of our place among our fellow creatures.
For if enough of us join forces, we can swell the tide of events - for good or for evil."

                                       M. Weis - T. Hickman "The seventh gate"

"We are rich, Raven, richer than we could ever hoped to be. we have woven a saga - tale that will warm men's hearts on cold nights for many years to come." He looked at me then, his blue eyes boring into mine like ship's rivets. "Is it enough?" he asked.
And now I did not answer, for i did not need to. I looked at the warrior ring on my arm, the silver ring Sigurd had given me so long ago when i had proved myself in a hard fight. Then I looked out to sea, watching a fat trading vessel wallowing on the merest ripple of wave, her crew bellowing at each other like cattle. And I smiled, lips pulling back from my teeth.
It is never enough.

                                                               G. Kristian "Odin's Wolves"

When Marco Polo came at last to Cathay, seven hundred years ago, did he not feel - and did his heart not falted as he realized - that this great and splendid capital of an empire had had its being all the years of his life and far longer, and that he had been ignorant of it? That it was in need of nothing from him, from Venice, from Europe? That it was full of wonders beyond his understanding? That his arrival was a matter of no importance whatever? We know that he felt these things, and so has many a traveller in foreign parts who did not know what he was going to find. There is nothing that cuts you down to size like coming to some strange and marvellous place where no one even stops to notice that you stare about you.

                                                        R. Adams "Watership Down"

There's gold at the end of the rainbow...

Gran Canaria and Manchester...it's like the rainbow, it happens when the sun shines through the rain.
Down there, on the small island, we have the sun. The sun shines on the shores, rooftops, streets, on the waves and on the people. And the people reflect it back, like crystals, in an incredible variety of shades. It is beautiful. People actually smile there! The sun gives colours to the world around you. Even the houses are so bright...then you have the slightly bigger island on the other side of the rainbow, Great Britain. The Rain. The main idea you get of a British city is grey. I look out of the window and the sky is grey. The streets are grey. The air is grey! People are sad, snuggling inside their coats, under black umbrellas, splashing in pools, quickly, across the road. The houses drip slowly, hiding their red skin behind lacey curtains of mist and pollution. The sky is heavy, it's always angry and tired. And it shouts down at us, with wind, slashing rain, hail and thunder. The smel is musty, fresh, forcely pushed into your nostrils by some double decker bus passing by...and you run in the rain, because you always have something to do, somewhere to go, a timetable to follow. You're always running out of time.
In Canaria you walk... sit... contemplate. You don't hear people shouting... well they do shout, but not because they're angry. Because they're latin, and that's the way we speak! You can smell the sea, that is obviously imperative. It's everywhere, you cannot run away from it! Sometimes I felt it a bit oppressive... but I still prefer to be oppressed by the ocean than by skyscrapers!
There's your pot of gold, my friend. The waves, their song. The misty skyline of volcanos in the distance... rough dark sand... walking down an empty street in the boiling sun of noon!
But we sit on the other side of the rainbow... we sit on a metal bench, endlessly waiting for a bus that never shows up, drenched to the bones, looking up at the heavy sky. We sit and pray for a ray of sun, a beam of light that will colour our long, winter days.
We sit in front of the fireplace and dream of the pot of gold at the furthest end of the rainbow...

Make heaven out of hell.....

Hola amigos!

What a multilingual.... just back from sunny Spain. Sounds like a mega stereotypes, but it was actually mega sunny. 36 degrees on the dot.
Some people say that the Canary islands are more Africa than Spain, and somehow I tend to agree, but anyway that's where I went for the week end. Incredibly cool.

As you probably don't know, my dear invisible friends, I used to live in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria (why such a long name, I've never really got it...) 6 years back. When I was young - er.... and full of hope for the future. Already a heavy drinker, anyway.

But let's move on.

I packed 500 different things, considering any possible kind of weather, from draught to typhoon, knowing very well that there the weather never changes.
My flight was at 2pm, so I obviously left at 10am. Why? No idea. I got to the airport at 11am and got incredibly bored drinking latte at Starbucks. The good thing is that now I possess a beautiful thing called Kindle! A thing similar to a computer that you use to read books... very clear, innit? Like an electronic reader, let's put it like that. It's super cool... you can store up to a million books. More less. But it's great, mega light and small, you can fit it in your bag and carry a whole shelf of books.

Well... the flight was obviously delayed and then I spent the next 4 hours looking at the ocean, reading and eating Jelly Babies. Not too bad. Obviously I was wearing winter clothes (in Manchester we're in the deep end of winter, now....) and the shock came when I got off the plane.

Flying to the Canary islands is quite impressive. You soar over miles and miles of ocean till you notice a small cap of clouds on the horizon, standing over the water, and you know you've arrived. Here's El Teide, in Tenerife, Spain's highest mountain.

That's cool, believe me. Even because on Ryanair flights you don't get much space to move around and 4 hours can feel like an eternity. So the doors finally open and we dash off the plane... to faint straight away!
Gosh the heat... I wasn't ready for that... even because of my very helpful winter clothes! Well, at least I took my coat off...

Sweating like a pig I got on a taxi and went straight to the hotel! How unbelievable was that! All my memories were running back and crashing against me like high tide on the cliffs.
So weird... like going back to where you grew up, after many many years... I don't know how to put it but my heart was seriously racing and I couldn't stop smiling and telling the taxi driver about all the things I did in Las Palmas. luckily he didn't fall asleep.

Quick shower, took off the winter clothes and off we go, running into the sunset.
Sunset on the beach is the best thing in the universe. With a cold beer (and more than one) and someone pretty attractive sitting beside you it can get even better! But let's leave men out of the story...
I walked along the beach almost all night, feeling the rough sand under my feet and smelling the sea, dragging it down deep into my lungs. Loved it to the bone. The same beach I used to walk on 6 years ago, and everything seems exactly the same...sigh! I'm the only one who changed... yeah got wrinkles, now!

Yeah, it is really like that.
Well, i got pissed and got to bed at 2 in the morning. It wouldn't have been too bad if the day after I didn't have Tenerife. But this is life. Got up with a humongous headache and so tired that i couldn't even open my eyes. Somehow I walked down to reception and asked the guy to call a taxi for me. He started speaking to me using some mysterious language and I could just nod without really knowing what I was agreeing to. The taxi driver insisted in speaking to me... what's wrong with these Spaniards? it's 7 in the morning, it's still dark, I'm fighting a massive hangover... leave me alone!

Finally we got to the port and the time came to pay. "It's 4 euros 40" I grumble something and I gave him a tenner "Have you got something smaller?" a part from my brain? I grumble again and I open my wallet... gosh so many coins! I start counting but it's a hard task for me so I just tell the guy "Sorry but I do not understand euros in the morning... can I pay in pounds?" he looked at me a bit puzzle so I yawn and pass him some coins... he seemed satisfied so I got off and walked to the ferry.
here comes the next big task of the day and it's not even 7:15am....the ticket checker!
(to make it easier for the public I translate the conversation into English)"Good morning" let's put it like that....grumble. "Ticket please" I produced the ticket "ID please" I produced the passport... and then he stared at me... and I stared back... what are we doing here? "Erhm... I keep the ticket you can get on the boat!" "Oh ok... thank you!". So I climbed up and I entered the boat.... to freeze on the spot! My dear invisible friends, how mega cold it was! My jumper wasn't enough at all! I sat somewhere and became a small (relatively) ball trying to keep myself warm. What a nightmare! Together with my headache, hangover, nausea and rolling boat on the ocean... well, it wasn't a pleasant journey at all!
Somehow I managed to keep the vomit down (beautiful) and landed safely to Tenerife... after ONLY 3 hours!!!

My friend, Celina, came to pick me up! Oooooh I was so happy to see her! She actually lives in Tenerife, so she drove me all the way down to her place, El medano. And what a windy little village, my friends! So cute and small and full of kite surfers and wind surfers. Wow. What a pleasant view!
We went to a nice tapas place in front of the beach and we talked and talked and talked... great food, great view and great company! Best ever. She took me around the island, from playa to playa and we had ice creams and drinks. Gosh it was so hot and the sand so white... it killed me!
Yeah but this is not very interesting, isn't it? You insensible lot... it was a great day with a great friend. Full stop.

The trip back was almost fine, but my biggest mistake was to go out again in the evening. I was so tired that I could barely stand, but somehow I managed to walk for almost three hours... silly me! But it was just so beautiful that you couldn't go inside, you had to stare at the sea.

The day after I just went walking around Las Palmas, remembering many many things. The place where I used to live, work, where I used to have breakfast, go shopping, drinking and so on...just strange, every little corner had a story to tell about my past. It felt like time never actually passed and I'd just left yesterday.

Now the plan is find a way to move back and I'm working on it.
After spending all Monday on the beach pondering (and tanning and swimming) I think I found a few options: go back, plant a tent on the beach and leave there; pretend to be an asylum seeker; win the lottery and buy a place there; get a job there (but that's boring and possibly the most difficult of all...); get a job with ryanair (it's on route....); marry a very rich Canarian man... or just get over it.

Well that's it... not an interesting story to tell till the very end: I get to airport on Monday only 2 hours earlier (I'm improving...), get back into my winter clothes and buy some stuff. Rum Arehucas, gofio (a type of flour), mantecados (biscuits), aloe juice... and then sit down with my omni Kindle. We finally get on the plane and guess what? Delayed... what a surprise. One hour stuck on the plane waiting... ah poor Ellie. At least I had mantecados... and I promise, I didn't touch the rum!!!

And then again, after 4 hours... thermal shock! 15 degrees here... and you can guess how I spent the night!!!

O.o

Manchester cries out

Hello my dear invisible friends.... how are you tonight? Watching falling stars?
I'm finally back after almost forgetting about this thing... yeah, it's just a diary at the end... so why not keep it updated? Well, every once in a while...

But the wind changed and the breeze smells of smoke. England's on fire. Nah, it's not the weather, it never gets that hot here. It's the British. British people are burning their own cities and country. Strange? Yes indeed.
I'm sure you're all aware of what's been going on since last Thursday. Riots, riots, riots. The funny side? They don't even remember why it all started. Now it's all about burning, smashing, kicking, looting, crashing, shouting... and so on. I couldn't believe my very own eyes.

A guy has been killed by the police. Possibly by mistake. Hopefully. Must be. Since then any excuse has been good enough to cause havoc. Kids... yeah, kids, smashing shop windows to steal everything they could put their eyes on. Honestly, what would your parents do if they caught you doing that? Well, I would be dust by now. But not British parents. They justify their kids... yeah, we have no job, what can we do? They say it's the rich people' fault. Wasn't that what Hitler said before starting locking up and killing Jews? Oh gosh... the situation is bleak.

I don't want to start complaining about people on benefits stealing the poor tax payers' money (ok, it is true) I just want to tell you how I feel about this. About my city.

The big trouble in Manchester happened on Tuesday. I found myself being unbelievably worried about my students. You know young people "There's a riot, let's go and have a look!". How clever. I was very relieved when they've all showed up on Wednesday morning. Eh eh. School closed early that day, to allow everybody to get home early and safely. I found out that I actually have a maternal instinct... is that how it is called? Anyway... suddenly I just wanted to round them all up, take them into my house, cover them with warm blankets and sing songs while drinking a hot cup of tea. Silly me. My other problem was Potato, obviously. I thought of all the possible ways to save the cat in case the house got attacked. yeah, double silly.

By the way, let's get to the point... should we?
This afternoon was my turn to go down to Manchester. I left home armed with my camera, ready to take as many pics as possible to witness this event. I was full of energy till the bus turned into Oxford road. The first shop completely boarded up. My heart skipped a beat. Dunno why, but it did. I asked myself, Ellie are you scared? But it wasn't that.
I finally got to Piccadilly and walked around the square. Everything looked normal but the atmosphere was eerie. the noise. The sound. It felt like someone put a pillow on the loud speaker. People were whispering slowly down the road... and not many people. Thursday is the day in which shops stay open till late, normally very busy. It looked more like a Sunday evening to me... More boarded shops around me. Suddenly my camera felt heavy and kept jammin' in my pocket. Weird.

I walk down market street and somehow my guts starts moving. Earlier latte? And here it is, the burnt down shop. Many people around it, taking souvenir pictures. I just stare blankly. I can't. in that smoking hole, a few days ago, people worked, walked, laughed, mumbled, sighed... there was movement and life there were colours. Now just black. The only colour being a red and white tape in front of it. A brainless idiot took the rainbow away.

And I just couldn't do it. I couldn't take pictures of it or of any other broken window. I felt like I was taking pics of a best friend's corpse. It's wrong. You must not do that. Full stop. I put my camera away and lowered my head, finding myself mourning in front of my shop. So sad. For the people who, every morning, get up and get to work, still feeling safe here. For the people who call this city home... oh yes, including me. Sad because so many of us (immigrant and indigenous) own so much to this piece of land called Manchester. Greater Manchester, actually.
Police was still walking around, slowly, looking carefully at people, with dark signs under their eyes. But still out there. So many people criticized them, but I don't think anybody has the right to. They were outnumbered but never gave up. Thanks to them. Ta, I should say! Ah ah.

Gosh, I'm getting sentimental.

I was glad to see that many people gathered in the morning to help out cleaning the city. OUR city, not that stupid mobs' city. Manchester belongs to the people who love it.
And we won't easily give up. Break us, we'll pick up the pieces and start again.

Sorry... I know, I'm not even British but somehow I've been adopted by Manchester so I do respect it. Mmh... ok, I go to get the cat and then bed.

Goodnight. God save the Queen

The last bit of my misadventures in China...

...I think the time has come to write it.
But believe me, it's painful. The last week wasn't fun at all.
I know, you got used to my interesting routine but this is a bit different. More than a year passed and it still hurts. Mmmh... I guess sometimes bad things have to happen to allow us to grow.
Memories are just coming back like the tide and I wish I could shut them out. But what we lived cannot be forgotten or denied, I guess.
No regrets, they do not work at all.

Well... maybe another day.

Good night

x

And so it's winter again... isn't it?!

Hello my invisible friends, how are you?
I'm alright, sitting on the sofa sipping crap coffee. Sorry about the long silence (have you noticed it?) but I've been busy being busy.
in Manchester is finally winter, after a long scorching summer that lasted almost 3 weeks. And I mean it... THREE WEEKS!!!! Now we're finally back to our normal temperature of 10 degrees. Ah, we can breath! And, obviously it's pissing down. But well... this is the North West, as they say.
Oh well who cares! I love cycling in the rain without glasses, splashing pools, randomly avoiding traffic, freezing myself to death and get to work completely drenched. That's life, isn't it?

What happened?
Nothing... mmmh... well, we had the Royal Wedding in England, how could I not mention that?! They started the countdown as soon as those two poor (relatively) guys got engaged. I mean... for the last month prior to the ceremony we knew absolutely everything about them... what they eat, how they fart, what they're wearing... everything but the bride's dress! You know, it's bad luck... everybody was speculating about those two, but I wonder.. who actually cared? Luckily I do not own or watch a tv myself, so I was almost safe. But I do read newspapers and every single day Kate was on it. My god... I'm so not envious, I would never be happy about becoming Queen.... you do not own your life anymore. Bah...

Well, on THE day, while the whole of England was off, I was working. Cleverly enough, my school organized a "Let's watch the Royal wedding together" party, so I skipped one hour lesson, taking the kids to the common room to watch the ceremony. If you want my opinion, and I'm sure you want it, it was pretty cute to watch it and I really loved Kate's dress. Good choice, girl. I got a bit emotional as well, I always do at weddings... probably because I think how bad is life going to be from now on for the bride. Ahahaha... ah ah
We had some food as well, even better.
I bought a biscuit tin with their faces on, obviously a gift for my mum. And you know what? She liked it. I mean... it was just unbearably kitch, but she liked it. Ok...
The local chippy was even offering free chips on the wedding day. Whatever, as soon as I finished work I jumped on a plane and I went home to sleep and sleep and sleep.

Yeah, that's all I did in Italy. Slept. I really needed it, believe. I'm an old woman and I just work far too much. Good to know that the money I give in taxes are invested in Royal weddings. Great. THAT wedding cost the poor tax payer something like £20m. That means twenty million pounds. Rock on! Wouldn't that make you furious? And now they are on their honeymoon. Nothing wrong with that, obviously, but they rented a whole island in the Seychelles... £45,000 a night... guess who's paying that...

>.<

And I was worried about spending 69p for a doughnut this morning... bah