I did not take pictures because I was reluctant to be called a tourist. I preferred the term ‘traveler’.
I was fortunate to be able to use the old money because it was beautiful. It seemed like antique minted ornaments, better than Euro coins. I find them lacking in intrinsic values.
It was those journeys when you felt so alone and weak. You wondered why did you do this to yourself. The bus stopped and everyone was scattered around in the toilet, smoking or buying something at the nearest shop.
You don’t understand a single damned thing. You have many miles to cover and you don’t want to end up hijacking the bus to a pit stop. You stared at the refrigerator and the sandwich section if there was anything that made sense.
Milk should be fine. And cheese. Both are plausible.
You rehearsed the awkward conversation at the counter while queuing, maybe the cashier is friendly if you asked if this sandwich is stacked with hidden bacon.
Then the radio was on and the song went on.
I knew the words! It was the same song I learned in my Spanish Culture Class. Suddenly I was not alone. I had company. Though it lasted less than 5 minutes I was singing with the radio at full volume.
I was never alone.
As a country that was colonized by the British Empire, I kind of guard this awe for the British. They managed to come so far and accomplishing so many things from the start of the Industrial Revolution, the age of Romance literature such as Shakespeare, Dickens, etc. I admired the history and there are so much to learn about England.
But I did not like London.
It felt like it has been re-colonized by the Commonwealth countries’ citizen and the majority of East of Europe. I hardly find any gentle British, maybe they are somewhere far away, enjoying the sun.
Apparently sun was a big deal in Europe and tanning was overdone in summer.
In these moments that I came to realize that I grew up in paradise.
I have to admit that the monument exceeds my expectation but the fee was too high considering you’re entering to see some 400 year ruins.
I wonder when they would finish everything.
I prefer Madrid Metro because it was more spacious, cleaner and everything was clear. Paris Metro was just the opposite.
I was passing a small road near the Colosseum and an old man waved. He forced me to stay at the hotel. This was the first time that it happened to me. The price went from 150 Euros to just 50 Euros. He even made my breakfast and dinner. He’s about my grandfather’s age. I felt guilty just by saying no. I have the nicest time over here (he made the meanest Tiramisu) In return he just wanted to have a chat about the world. Apparently he missed traveling.
Don’t we all?
Yes, I did rent an apartment because it was crazy cheap!
Breakfast before following the lines of tourists. You cannot get lost.
[to be continued]