SPANISH REVOLUTION- Madrid

ESPAÑA SE HA DESPERTADO. Los jóvenes hemos salido al corazón del país y reclamamos que nos escuchen. Hay opiniones para dar y tomar, pero se busca consideración de una forma pacífica y organizada. Visita www.democraciarealya.es para más información y para leer el manifesto y las propuestas de esta organización.
SPAIN IS AWAKE. The youth have taken the heart of our country and claim to be listened. There are many different opinions raising in this assembly, although what we look for is consideration in a pacific and organized manner. Visit www.democraciarealya.es for more information and for the manifesto and conditions.

Summer is starting!

So the rain is gone, the flowers have bloomed and winter clothing is dissappearing from the streets. This can only mean one thing and that is...SUMMER IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER!
What I adore about the summer is all the activity that appears in all cities, big or small. Love, as many romantics say, is out and about, everybody seems to be happy and it seems like colours have invaded the whole world. For all the students, this is a rather stressful time, with our exams just knocking on our door, so good luck. As for the rest, enjoy spring/summer! On my side I'm already making plans on what can I do next vacation ;-)

 
P.S.: Un beso a todos los afectados en Lorca por el terremoto. ¡Ánimo!

Night Love in Madrid

 Carpe Diem is, I think, the moto for most young people around the world. I'm not the exception, so, when I came to Madrid first, I was determined to forget Mr. G and all those men I had come across in my stay in London. Madrid, as I tried once to explain (quite unsuccesfully), has a whole load of events and places to offer for women like me that try to start from 0. Museums, cafés and restaurants aside, the night life is probable one of the best aspects of this city. In one one of the nights out is when I met Mr. Nobody, whom I once thought to be someone but things made an unexpected twist and he now remains in that pile of memories you vaguely remember when you are really bored. However, heart issues are another level of Madrid parties and concerts, for the best is just to hang out with your friends in the clubs you like the most. Madrid has an huge variety of bars and clubs that play every possible type of music that exists. Fun, Hit, Pacha, Sala Heineken (with its many different festivals) are just some of the names you might come across if you visit. Here I leave you a small taste of how we party here, in the capital of Spain.

 11/03/2011 Concert by DINERO at Sala Heineken. It was, in a word, amazing. I love how close this group is to the fans, so far one of the best concerts I have attended.

 07/04/2011 Concert by Second at Joy Eslava. The club was completely full, and I was lucky to have a privileged position right in the front line, also, they delighted us with a mix between their oldest and newest hits. I think I even cried in one or two songs.

 Night out with friends from university last Friday (you could almost say we were celebrating the Royal wedding!!!) First we went to Independance Club...

 ...and after a few hours we moved to Stardust, an electro music festival held at Sala Heineken every friday. To be honest, I don't think I've ever been to any place where the music was SO LOUD! When we left home (at 7 a.m. today, saturday) we all thought we were staying deaf!

So this is a peek into what Madrid's night life can offer. I thank Marina, Rosa, Jon, Ana, and all those close to me this year that share so many moments with me.
Enjoy more travelling!!!!

Coming Back to Palma, Semana Santa (Holy Week)

So, what happened to Mr. G? He finally got himself a girlfriend, a hideous lawyer I can honestly say I ABSOLUTELY despise. He keeps listening to Frank Sinatra and complains about men and women while I tell him my recent love stories. We hadn't met in quite a long time before this week, about six months, I believe. Anyways, so, IT'S APRIL! And this year will be known for the late Semana Santa (Holy Week) that delayed the holidays for all of us students. In Semana Santa, in Spain there are many huge traditions, the most important and beautiful are the PROCESIONES. So these procesiones (I am unaware whether there is a similar tradition in the English-speaking world or not) consist of catholics dressing up in gowns that cover the whole body and walk through the streets with candles to ask forgiveness for their sins. OK, explained like this I understand how gruesome it sounds, but it is actually a wonderfully beautiful scene to be part of. Being from Palma, I have grown up with all this traditions, and so did Mr. G, so this ear we decided to go to the procesión of Holy Thursday toguether. We had a long talk about our lives, our plans, and how we are delighted we are still friends. I must admit, nevermind which events are taking place in Palma, if friends like that are there, it just becomes the more better. Hope you all have a great comeback to work and studies!!

Going Back to London (Pt 1 out of a million)

London, oh London!
I still haven't quite figured what is it that entrances me so much. Let's make a list: the weather is horrible, the people...well the stereotype is not promising, the parties are expensive and THEY FINISH AT 3 AM!!!! Oh my goodness...Such a horrible city, right? Nevertheless I still love it. Maybe it is because all those memories with all those Mr. Nobodies that shared this amazing and disgustingly polite city. My last adventure was loveless (was it really?), and it shocked me quite a lot as I found myself floating to my usual places, hoping to see a familiar face. I found myself walking down the streets surrounded by my friends, talking nonsense as I surprised over the multitudinary protests in the centre. I saw a clear copy of one of the Mr. Nobody eating in that restaurant-could it be possible? Noooooooo- while we randomly pointed at a chinese name in a menu.
Oh, London, it has not changed a bit, though nothing is the same now. And I still love it. I love the National Geographic's café, right in Regent Street. I love the lions in Trafalgar Square, and the protesting students destroying anything that got on their path. I love Sloane Square, and Harrod's too. I love the endless walks by the Thames and the Tower of London. I love it when London Bridge is all lit up. But, what I love the most, above all other things, is that finally I'm gonna live there. Take care, travellers!

A Letter For St Valentine's Pt 2 (Palma de Mallorca)

As far as I know, Mr G has never ever had sex in his life. He told me this as I was wanting to kiss him over our coffee and llagosta at Bar Bosch, in one of the most famous squares in Palma. This bar is probably the best in its specialty, those cheap and yummy sandwiches with ham and cheese. It is also the oldest bar in town, and the waiters working there seem like they ran away from a classic movie. After our coffee, we walked hand in hand up Jaime III and down El Parque de la Faixina. You see, with Mr G I have always felt like a princess. It is the thing about love, and Palma. Even though time changes the original feeling, the elegance still remains; sometimes it is easier to see than most days, but the hope that Cary Grant will appear next corner never fades away.
I was thinking so as Mr G made some joke about singles. I never listen to his jokes. We were walking and admiring Paseo Marítimo. The wind made the sea curl into a grey and threatening mass, crushing loudly on the sea sore. I look at Mr G, and we walk back. It has always been fun to see the same people at the same places. You see, that's another virtue of Mallorca, you get to know everybody.
That's why Mr G was never my Cary Grant nor my Frank sinatra...He was, I think, my George Peppard, my beloved true friend. And he still is.
We haven't walked Jaime III for a long time now. Everyday I walk by our favourite ice-cream store (San Miquelet) I think of the good days. Mallorca is him. When you are a foreigner in Mallorca, you love it, though the people living there don't want you to stay. The reason is, if the Mallorcans are clever, they wanna be foreigners.

A Letter for St. Valentine's Pt.1 (Palma de Mallorca)

Everybody has their own story. It is a simple fact. The sad thing about us, men and women of the world, is that we honestly believe our very own story could be turned into a book or a movie (or both, for some). Well, the truth is, would you read your own story? Would you watch something you know what, how, when, why and where it happened?
This can also be applied to the stories of the REAL people we just don't know. Reality, as it is, is boring. However, when we read something we know for a fact that is impossible, it becomes far more appealing. You see, it is far more entertaining to dream about something that might never happen than to accept that real people have real lives, and real love stories, for that matter.
My point is, would Frank Sinatra's songs be so wonderfully romantic had they been written for your best friend? The answer, obviously, is no! In the case that happened, you would probably laugh while dying of jealousy inside.
In order to understand the story I begin today, you have to pretend it is ficticious (for if you don't, you will be terribly bored, as I have just explained). Play some vintage music such as "Bye, Bye, Blackbird". Dance to it; slowly, so painfully slowly you are aware of every single one of your movements. Lit a cigarrette, one won't hurt. Pour yourself a drink and find that status of complete and absolute relax.
Vintage music does the job for me. It is in one of this moments, while listening to Sinatra, that I decided to write this letter, or two, or three. What the heck! I could even write a book if I wanted to!
On St. Valentine's eve, it occured to me that I have always dream of a knight riding a white horse to my rescue. He would be caring, respectful, perfect. Our song would be "It had to be you", by my beloved Sinatra, and he would propose in one of those social clubs in London or Manhattan.
As you might have assumed, my knight has not appeared yet, but this is a tale of all the toads that tried to replace him.
The first one? His name is G, and he is from my hometown, Palma.



Mr G and I met in this city one cold afternoon, but I'll tell you the full story next Sunday, once this romantic frenzy is gone and forgotten.
Miss me a bit, xx