Changes (again) in this city life (again)

It's been a fortnight since I arrived in this town. And even though I don't have a job yet, I don't have much time. Madonna was wrong.

I walk around the city and I see many things that have changed. The Uniqlo that had closed, opened again. Some other shops vanished, some of them that I liked, even. And where I used to go to buy pens, now there is a nice tea shop. Or a horrible Starsbucks.
The sun is shining and sometimes I am hot. But it is chilly in the evenings.
People has forgotten how to walk, and I keep bumping into them.
The Underground has "planned works" all over and even fires.
I prefer the bus. The open double decker buses are gone. The 49 has changed and I haven't seen a worm 25 yet.
Or I walk. I like walking, but I get lost.
I have come across very nice people, these days. And I have met with friends I hadn't seen in such a long time. I missed them, and seeing them smile or laugh make me so happy.
I've gone to the cinema and I can't wait to start doing other activities.
I went to the gardens.
I've eaten scones and carrot cake.
I've cooked.
I've baked.
I've kneaded.
I've knitted.
I've studied and read a lot.
And just yesterday, when I was on the 14 bus home, Lily whispered in my ears again.

Sun is in the sky
Oh why, oh why
Would I wanna be anywhere else?

And, really, why, if here I feel home and loved?

PS Thank you, and don't you ever say thank you again.

Anouncement
Take Me Out Tonight
has opened its doors.

¿A qué huele la ciudad?

Ya llevo una semana en London y la verdad es que tengo un cúmulo de sentimientos de diferentes calibres, de diferentes significados.

Ha estado haciendo bueno, muy bueno, hasta anteayer. Entonces empezó a hacer frío y ayer estuvo lloviendo.
En contra de lo que la mayoría de gente cree, la lluvia en este país no es tan molesta. Ayer llovió mucho, pero, por lo general, llueve a penas unas gotas que se secan en cuanto les has dicho hola tres veces. Normalmente yo voy con mi gorra/o y ya tengo suficiente.
Todavía no tengo trabajo y, a pesar de que me encanta la vida que voy teniendo estos días, no me gusta no sentirme independiente.
Volver a Londres me ha llenado de sentimientos y camino por las calles mirándolo todo. Observando cada rincón y buscando las siete diferencias.
Anteayer pasé por delante de donde vivimos. No sé por qué. No tiene nada de especial. Quizás esperaba encontrarme las cortinas abiertas y ver que alguien es feliz en aquél ground floor flat.
También estuve delante de mi antiguo empleo, cuando fui a buscar a una amiga. Todo está tan cambiado. Aquí estaba Cargo, aquí Saintsbury's, oh, han cerrado Zara, qué bien. ¿Dónde está aquél DVD rental al que solía ir? ¿Hm, cómo se llamaba? Algo con Prime, con letras rosas. Debe haber cerrado. Oh, Holland Park. Knightsbridge. Fulham. El Thames.
Gente, gente por todas partes. Oigo polaco. ¿De dónde eres? Entro en una tienda. Dzień dobry – Dzień dobry. Oh, no, no. Nie mówię po polsku, no hablo polaco, pero querría un poco de este pan y una bolsa de ogórki.
Hay cosas que echo de menos, qué te voy a contar. Hay una larga lista. Y hay cosas que he estado echando de menos. No sé cual de las dos es más larga.

Levanto la mirada y en el jardín veo como la fina lluvia cae lentamente en el banco, en las hojas rojas y en las marrones del suelo. Me acerco a la ventana, observo el cielo y veo pasar un avión a punto de aterrizar.

PS La pregunta del título me la hizo una amiga, el otro día, por email. Contesté: a café malo y frescor.

We still

It is still not ten years ago that I learned about Diana's death.

The day Di died my mother had been trying to wake me for hours. Then, she burst that Diana had died. As a gay I loved her, as a human I admired her. I jumped out of bed.
That day, like when the Pope Karol Józef Wojtyła died, or in September 11, there was nothing else in the telly.
I cried, I must say. Because I couldn't believe she had died. You don't expect people who you "know" since you were little to suddenly die. Yes, it was a shame when the Pope died and I felt sorry and sad, because he was "my" Pope even though I don't even believe in his religion; though, I was "expecting" this to happen, as he was old and ill. Diana... no, she was neither old nor ill. She was just perfect and perfect was supposed to remain forever. Unfortunately, she didn't. She passed away and left us here, wondering what was going to happen. After that, the gossip magazines and the yellow press have had it very hard to find someone like her. Not only for the fact that she was the mother of a future king of the UK but because she was nice and kind, helpful with the ones in need and beautiful.

Self-quoted from "Regina", Jan 29 97

And, still today, I feel like there's something missing. I wonder if she is really dead. I wonder if she is not gone to an island like that The Island of Homer Simpson. I wonder if she is not just hanging around with Doddy and Elvis and James Dean and Kurt Cobain and Janis Joplin and all those who left us too early. I wonder what number would she be. I'd give her the 1.

Today the sun isn't shining.
Today is a sad day.

Today we all remember you; because you are our princess, the princess of our hearts.

PS Today there is a service but Camilla isn't going to be attending. I wonder what Dianda would have liked.

Sing Songs Along

Some good time ago, I was watching a program on Catalan television (or was it the regional disconnections of the Spanish National? –never mind) called Els nous catalans (The New Catalan People) which is about the foreigners who now live in Catalonia; they explain the differences in culture (so to explain how Catalan people are) and the things that shocked to them when they moved here as well as about their own culture and food. So, that day, there was that noble woman from Italy who teaches dancing in Barcelona. She said that what most surprised her was that people didn't sing in the streets.

I thought to myself, yeah, I know, it is upsetting. I don't go around singing cos I don't sing well, but sometimes I do. And when I am on my iPod I lip-sing. Sometimes people look at me as if I was mad, but I don't care. Especially since that day, since that woman made me feel I am no freak.

This morning I read about Sing London and I really wish I was there or at least that they will do that again next year. I leave you with the commercial/video clip.

Also, if you like to sing, check the Sing-a-long-a site which events are mostly taken at Prince Charles Cinema.
This post's title comes from Tilly and the Wall's same titled song.

"Let us be free, let us sing songs along"

REU-LDN-MAD

Last night I arrived from my long week-end in Europe. It didn't feel like it was some countable days but some sort of imaginary time measure that stretched itself to create a new amount of time. This new X(for the quantity) X(for the name of the new time measure) lasted as long and as short as one could imagine, but it wasn't just over four days but, at least, what we, Earthlings (LG), call a month.

I am not going to go through all details, you know I don't like that, neither am going to recall on why everything happened how it happened. But there is some stuff I have to say. I need to say. Deserve to be said.

On some point of the beginning of this period of time, I flew to London from the beautiful city of Reus (I should have had a stop over in Paris and it would have done the long known sentence of "Reus, Paris, London"). Flying, since this Summer, is horrible for me. Thank god I met a lovely English girl who helped me over the trip. Thank you so much.
I arrived in London and what came to me, a part of the I-am-home feeling was the chaos that suddenly I found. Perhaps I felt it that way because I was a chaos, as well. But, anyway, my what-is-the-easiest-way-to-get-there chip, wasn't working. Also, there were some "planned" engineering works that I wasn't told of and a Chelsea match I wasn't aware of. So, finally, I arrived to my friend's house in Fulham Broadway just to get changed and get going to celebrate ThanksGiving in Brixton.
Very early on our arrival at the house I realised that was going to be the best party I had ever been to. And it certainly was. Delicious food (no turkey, all happened to be vegetarian, but it wasn't on purpouse, just happened). I can't recall all the great things of the party. The house, the menu cards and name tags, the music. And certainly the people. We were a bunch of people who didn't know each other. There was not one person who knew all of them. But we matched, at least that's what I think. Everybody was talking to someone, no little groups were formed. Just what I was needing for: good, intelligent, friendly talk.
I was supposed to prepare some "rom cremat" ("burnt rum", which is rum, the peel of a lemon, cinnamon stick, clove and sugar, a la flambé), but it didn't turn out, I just couldn't make it burn. That was my contribution to the party, bringing some of what those Catalans who went to the Americans brought back. Although different part of America the continent, the same America in the end. Hope, one day, you guys, come to celebrate Eleven September ("day" of Catalonia) with me, here, and I can do it right.
It wasn't a traditional ThanksGiving, it was just fabulous.

The next day was a relaxing calm day walking around and talking all what was left to talk about, which was a lot. Could meet just two of my friends there, and I couldn't meet someone very special. Hope next time will be better.
I know some people might be upset with me for not being able to meet, so I say sorry from here.

I felt great in London. More than great. I felt "me". Walking through the city, visiting shops, having tea and cake (Man, I love the cake!).
But we had to go.
We took a plane and then it was all Madrid around us.
There are many things that come up to my mind when I think of the city. Some are great, and some are not. There are that surprise me and there are that distract me.
I have to say that Madrid urgently needs a signalization freshen up. The metro is a mess, lines have numbers and colours but they are named by the start off and the end (whatever this means, because both are both) of the line. But that's not the worse thing: if you don't want to get lost, you have to be from there, or at least live in. When in London there would be a hundred signals, in Madrid there is one. I don't know if they are saving on metal/plastic, but what they are wasting is time. For instance, at Atocha train station, I wandered around for a good ten minutes before I arrived to the right place: there were signals saying just the opposite to one another. And the escalators; oh, my god, they drove me crazy: if you had to go on three escalators, you'd find the one going up in the right and the next two in the left (with corridors in between, of course, not just ahead one another). And all for stops that you could walk, really. [Once we were at Puerta de Alacalá, or something, and we asked for directions to get to Chueca (Soho, Village) and the girl told us: "That's so far, better take the metro": it was just about ten minutes walk.]
The city is very polluted. So much traffic. So many cars.
There are great shops and great trendy people. They look clean.
Many, many blind people.
I don't live there, but it didn't seem such a big deal the road works (my city is now wide open as well and it is a pain in the ass, really) but perhaps is because it is big enough to be able to get somewhere else.
People is kind (except some waiters and the woman at the fruit shop in Chueca Square).
Coffee tastes like coffee and is black black even if you wanted "cortado".
El Retiro is great. I don't know why is always so quiet: I'd be there all the time.
So many gay guys and so many handsome guys (not only in Chueca, but all around the city).
It is clean.
People does not know how to walk.
The metro is quiet: the actual train (both meaning silent and not moving much) and the people in it.

There are many things but I can't recall all of them right now. Over all I liked the city a lot, after twelve years. I wouldn't live there (need water) but I'd like to go visit once in a while.

One of the last nights of that-amount-of-time-we-got-created, we went to Sala Clamores to the concert of Anna Maria Jopek. There we were Gatchan, Mal (plus two) and me (plus one). I was called the "fan". I have never liked that terminology for myself. I am not a fan of anyone. I like some artists' music but that's all. In fact, this was one of the few "real" concerts I've been to. By real I mean someone I own an album of before the day. Actually, it might actually be just the one. I have most of AMJ's discography and I have to say I like her a lot. And now, that I have seen her live, I am willing to make other efforts to see her again.The venue was a nice small intimate place. There were Poles but less than I'd expected.
She sung songs from her album "Secret", which is the English one of which I had expected the whole concert, and for my great surprise, from "Niebo" and my favourite "Farat" along with a new song of, once again, a version of an Sting's song.
I'm no expert in music, I just know what I like, that's why I am going to let the review for others (Gatchan, I thought you would have commented the concert by now). I must say that she was very nice: she spoke little in Polish, quite in English, and quite a lot in Spanish. She even sung in the city's language. Her accent in Spanish was great. She pronounced the s's as the Polish ś (like an English 'sh') and a couple of c's as in her language (like the 'ts' in cats), but what she said was perfectly well structured with a pure Castilian grammar. She was even funny and she made us sing (men, and blonds against brunettes). Her Spanish was actually great with perfect plurals (Polish plural isn't ending in -s like in Spanish or English: jeden kawanos, dwa kawanosy).

I had recently obtained a camera so I made some photos. I am no photographer and I am just learning how to use it. Also, the light was down but I got a couple I am actually proud of. Also, I got many that are blurred but which I like a lot.
Also, I recorded a video (below) of her version of "Don't Speak", for me the best cover ever. Again, you'll understand that I used a photo camera and that this was the first time I ever recorded anything. Though, it is a hint of what you can get if you get hold with her albums or you get to see her live (she plays tonight in Gijón, and on the following time in Estonia, Poland and Germany); you can find all the info at her site, there is a mistake on the English version so I would trust more the Polish one (koncerty).
Oh, I have to say that Marek Napiórkowski, wow, that's a heaven of a guitarist.

The next morning was a relaxing shopping and walking at the Retiro day, were we run into one of the friends of Mal and we were delighted with lovely "Over the Rainbow" on the acordion.
In the afternoon I took a train to Tarragona. It was only 4 hours and I was expecting a very long very pleasant trip. It was pleasant and calm, indeed, but it was short. I love trains.

Many more things happened, many emotions, laughter, many smiles. New, hopefully, friendships: Gatchan and Mal (plus his plus two's).
I can't find the words... but, all what happened this weekend made me so happy. The way everybody has treated me. The fact that, for firs time, I puzzled something from scraps, i.e. the concert with people who weren't that in touch of her music, everything...
There are no words...
So I'll leave it at here.

Anna Maria Jopek - Don't Speak
Sala Clamores, Madrid, Spain - 21 Nov 06

Photos: 1 Bishops Park, Fulham, London, UK;
2. Image of a screan of my new camera that appeard
on the train to the airport. Taken by L(isf)G.
3 Chueca metro station, Plaza de Chueca, Madrid, Spain;
4. Anna Maria Jopek, Sala Clamores, Madrid, Spain.

City life

Lily Allen : LDN
"Alright,Still", Regal Zonophone Records, 2006

Riding through the city on my bike all day
'Cause the filth took away my licence
It doesn't get me down and I feel ok
Cause the sights that I'm seeing are priceless

Everything seems to look as it should
But I wonder what goes on behind doors
A fella looking dapper, but he's sittin with a slapper
Then I see it's a pimp and his crack whore

You might laugh you might frown
Walkin' 'round London town

Chorus
Sun is in the sky oh why oh why
Would I wanna be anywhere else?
Sun is in the sky oh why oh why
Would I wanna be anywhere else?

When you look with your eyes
Everything seems nice
But if you look twice
you can see it's all lies

There was a little old lady, who was walkin' down the road
She was struggling with bags from Tesco
There were people from the city havin' lunch in the park
I believe that it's called al fresco
Then a kid came along to offer a hand

But before she had time to accept it
hits her over the head, doesn't care if she's dead
'Cause he's got all her jewellery and wallet

You might laugh you might frown
walkin' 'round London town

Repeat chorus

When you look with your eyes
Everything seems nice
But if you look twice
you can see it's all lies

Life, that's city life, yeah that's city life, that's city life
Life, that's city life, yeah that's city life, that's city life

Repeat chorus x 4

Where do I belong in?

I have found this at Sempre Primavera:

You Belong in London

You belong in London, but you belong in many cities... Hong Kong, San Francisco, Sidney. You fit in almost anywhere. And London is diverse and international enough to satisfy many of your tastes. From curry to Shakespeare, London (almost) has it all!

What European City Do You Belong In?

So, I belong to London, huh? Not surprised, not surprised... I knew that. What am I doing in Spain? In any case, what the heck am I doing in an small city in the Costa Daurada (full of guiris)? God knows!

I miss London, yes! Definitely. I have to say that my "social" life (which everyone has in London) was not as busy as the rest of my co citizens. Though, the small amount of mine was way enough to make me happy.

Actually, I had wished that I was going to belong to Warszawa, though I doubt that this site has Warsaw between the cities. Perhaps Praha, Budapest or Kraków, but for sure not Warsaw.

Recently I went a couple of times to Barcelona to meet some friends. I love the city, yes, I do. But I don't like the people in there: they don't know how to walk! In Barcelona you see how people all the time crash with other people; they don't care if there is other people around, behind, wanting to walk faster, they don't get to the side. Even the other day, I was slowing down to let a guy pass so I wouldn't crash onto him and he looked at me and slowed down until he stopped so I had to change my "route" as he was right in the middle of my way.

Escalators are even worse: "Stand on the right" is written in all London Tube Escalators. Here, in Spain, ask God to help you if you ever want to take over someone. And the corridors: "Please, keep left" is also written in every corridor. Well, actually everywhere.

Fine, perhaps is a bit too much, but in a city where more than seven million people live, it is necessary to direct movements. And in a city where there are so many people from other countries, the "look left" signs in the pedestrian crossings are very useful.

I belong to London and this is just the smallest amount of reasons why I belong there.

Dreamland

Hello guys! I've just arrived from my holidays in London (and England, actually).
This have been the best holidays I have ever had. Imagine! Even though it wasn't exactly holidays as I was somewhere I knew well (eventually, my sense of orientation has gone one step forward, but I still get bit lost sometimes).
I am not going to go through all details on how my holiday were and what did I do but, as always, I am going to let my mind explain itself with my thought on the big city.

The first thing that comes up to my mind is the fact that things that I used to hate (i.e. tube, underground) has appeared to be one of the nicest things and most missed of all (the things, not people) as, since I got back to this country (Sunny Spain is becoming Very Rainy Spain, BTW), I have lost the habit of reading; I guess, I had created the habit of reading while moving and now I have only a two-minute walk to my office. So, on my flight there I started reading El Quijote and now I am almost finishing --I have to say that I went twice to the country on one-hour train trip.

London is a very full big city. There are people of any kind, any nationality. There are many crazy people. I was so distressed when, waiting for my friend to pick me up at King's Cross, a drunken man shouted at me and scared me. Though, sometimes you see people that you'd love to run into and start a conversation. Or you see through a house window, or through the doors of a pub something that really moves you. Like the other day, walking around, this young couple dancing ball dance (not that properly, actually) and the scene was so nice that I wanted to take a photo.

Going back to the places I liked has been, actually, one of THE THINGS I've been doing all the week. My walk: Westminster - Southwark (NFT) - Tate Modern - Millennium Bridge - North Bank (?) - Embankment Gardens - Charing T (Re: "Brave New World", Huxley) - Leicester Square - Coven Garden - Carnaby Street... Such a great few hours walking. Stopping in every corner to LOOK what I've already SEEN a few thousand times. Sit in a bench in South Bank and look at the Thames. Look at the skaters, the jumpers, the joggers and all the people that, like you, is just walking around. Great.

Meeting my friends has been great, what can I say? I felt loved. This is not that kind of blog -- sending you big-wet-auntie-Ann's kisses. And hugs and mate-embraces and hits.

Porridge. Oh, too bad. The first day my friend --whose beautiful house I was staying in-- bought me some Digestive and butter cookies, which I had missed. Though, the second morning I started eating Porridge for my breakfast --berries, banana, raisins, sultana... Oh, great... I can't believe we changed oats for "Cola-Cao".

Her garden; even though it was just cold enough not to have our cheese night outside, I could be for ever looking at it.

Planes: as her house is near Heathrow Airport planes were coming and going all the time. You would see one and before you stop hearing his engine you have a new one to hear/see. Or sometimes you would see four planes at once, queueing up for landing. So many planes, hundreds of them. Coming, going. EuroStar, trains, buses. People. Move, move. Transport. Movement. Rotation. Money. Transport. Transport. Transport.

Multiculturalism. Visiting Southall was great. The Indian-Pakistani area is full of colour and has a totally different move, all rather slower and chilled out. Also at home, where night talks will end up on difference between how we all see life. Or history talk about WWII and would have the American, the English, the French and the Spanish version and could reach for the Greek, the Italian and the German (right?). I would stop their speech to say: "Oh, you are the allies!" and then argue with them why they didn't help us (America did, a bit, just for interest).

I have more to say, though, I am bit tired for the trip. Will follow.

PS As you can see I have changed the "roller blind", this is from "my bedroom" in London.

All the photos taken this week in London.

Thank you very much LG (Life's Good).

Holy-days

I'll be on holidays in London from today till the 14th.

Hope I'll be back with lots of stories.

I will write them all down so I can explain them to you.

At lost

When I arrived in London I had so much language barriers. Not only for the fact that I didn't speak the language but also because I didn't know the language. I mean that, when we are speaking, we use more than words. We also use idioms, quotes and a full background of history, tales, telly and so on. The reason I named this Ten to the Dozen --a part of the obvious reason of me speaking as much as that-- is something that happened on the second weekend in town: I went so some Catalan friend's house to have "dinner" and to go out at The Cross at King's Cross. Before leaving, we had some pre-drinks at home and catching up. I met the boyfriend of the room mate of my friend. He is English and we were talking a lot --with my terrible one-week-in-town English-- and he told me "You like to talk in English, huh?". I said yes and I was trying to say that I always talk a lot and he taught me to say "Ten to the dozen". He was kind, patient and comprehensive --unlike his Spanish boyfriend (not my friend).

I decided, then, that I was going to try to learn as many idioms as possible. Never did.

Soon I became fearless to English. I know my English isn't great (you that you read, must realize), but I prefer to make mistakes than stay quiet. After a while I was already talking a lot and --beautiful Spanish accent included-- fast. My vocabulary and grammar improved day by day (there's much to do still) and I became happy on it.

Suddenly I realized that I was feeling very comfortable in English. But some rain clouds arrived in my life and I did the biggest mistake of coming back to Spain. I thought I was going to feel better here, and I did for a while, but now I see coming back as a mistake. I miss London but the worse isn't that --the city and my beloved friends will be there if I go--, the worse is that I don't feel comfortable here. I feel that there is a black hole between me and the rest of the people I socialize with. They live in a world totally different to mine. I look at them and I see them as when, with a friend, we were following a wonderful Spanish old man in my town. I feel that I am here on holidays, waiting for the moment I go back and still looking at them as weird people who do things that I can't understand because I am not from here. I can't talk about certain things any more. I can't go in the tube with my iPod and look at people how they behave. I can't go to East Street Market and wonder-wander around. I feel that I am not from here because no-one here understands me.

Foto at the top by Life'sGood, Torredembarra 24th December 2004

Rain

It is raining again and, on days like this, is when I really do miss London. When I was living there, everyone here in Spain was asking me about the rain and the fog. Fog? Twice a year, not much. Rain... That mostly everyday. But somehow the rain over there didn't quite bothered me and it became just another piece of the landscape. Like a tree. Here, when it rains it pours and it is, sometimes, quite annoying. Especially in this horrible town that does not have sewers --or at least not in my borough. The seven hundred feet from my office (where I am now) to my house, turn into a race with obstacles where the fences become puddles.
I remember rainy days at Earl's Court Tube Station [it always makes me smile how English is that the borough is not written like that but Earls Court] waiting for my train connection to my house in Kensington. I remember the queues of men and women. And now, after reading While England Sleeps (David Leavitt), my memories of spring-time in London are blurred by the rain.

I have just seen how Autumn has just arrived. I was in a car (I wasn't driving) and the wind and the rain was making move the branches of the maple trees and its leaves where falling, some of them slowly and some faster pushed by the water and the air.
I've been listening to Amos Lee today. A perfect match. Rain+Amos. Though, I would have loved to be in a cottage with chandeliers all around and a big fire place heating me up while I read a good book [perhaps Leavitt also]. A very interesting thick book. I look out of the window, I observe the rain, the leaves, the trees, the prairie. I look at the horizon and I wonder if it could be better.

I guess the answer is no.