I have a dream

Believe me! I don’t wanna be a new Martir Luther King and lead the next black power revolution, you`ve had enough of them, revolutions I mean. anyway

I do remember my dream clearly. Somehow I flight to Minnesota with my friend and former roommate Fabien. We were visiting the facilities for olimpic swimmers. The group of pilgrims was there, girls were wandering around followed by an excited Nick and I took conversations with at least Josh, Mr Bean, John, and Pat.

In America everything is big, I mean huge. U sleep in king size beds, teenagers cars are pickups, children toys are bazookas, u enjoy two-floored houses, all of u but Laurine´s who share a flat, hamburguers are one pound size so then the pills for digestion must be one kilo ! Crazy guys!.

The thing is that we were all together beneath the pools, taking spanish tortilla and beers. There were three pools. The first was the same size they use in olimpic games, second was twice the first. But the third one really drove me crazy. It was one mile long and really wide.

I asked if that pool was usual in America and Josh talk me that it was the only way the swimmers could practice “the mile contest” properly. And all of u were really astonished because European people we do not have this kind of pool.

The pool was so awesome that even the water became rough with big waves and so.

Now I´m awake, (I cannot write in my blog when I´m sleeping) and my question is:. "Is it so usual to have one mile pool in every American State or just in Minnesota?" 

– I have been checking in Google, but I haven´t found the answer.

Thanks a lot for bringing light to my knowledge darkness.

Now I have to say goodbye.I must retake my daily training in my tidy fifty meters long spanish pool.

See u guys

Valentin

Pd. During the dream, Mustaza push me into the water. Never mind my friend, but next time be sure I let my coinpursue and passport safe on the grass. Otherwise it could be troublesome for me, ask Vivek

bierzo, galicia and popotamin sacred

So many people beyond Sarria!! So many annoying old Spanish! Lovely Spots everywhere, beautiful landscapes, rivers, forest, cows, horses. Unforgetable goodbye to my friends, I will never forget u, touch heart, thanks for all. Miss u
Popotamo.

Pay attention to Klipping claims, and Popotamin´s credential LOL!

Castilla pain and nightmare under the sun

Believe me! I have never seen such an astonishing people, after suffering sun burnings they go to the pharmacy and get..30 SPF suncreams, Hey! Are u for real? Do u wanna get into the hospital?.Infinite walks, diabolic temperatures, lot of dust, art, and churches, lot of them, uff boring, and monochrome and annoying landscapes. Sometimes I believed I were dead and were paying for my sins. No pain no reward! So then I will end beneath San Peter, otherwise this is a joke! Love of fun during the evenings, chat beer and spirits. Blisters turn up everywhere and tendinitis become part of the legs. Some boys keep their promise about not shaving themselves, they look like ancient pilgrims. After climbing the wall I sleep with a cat, fun!

Adventure on the way

Time to meet the new amazing fellows. Due to the flight restrictions they couldn´t bring their daily arsenal (bazookas, hand-granades, colt),so then when the supermarket is closed they have to go to the bar instead of shooting a duck with the rifle,as they are used to do, !crazy guys!. Rainy days, and muddy paths to slip and fall, heavy boots to walk the rookie climbs. Donkeys, sheeps, germans and cows. First touch with crowdy albergues, pintxos, wine, and good food. Enjoy and carpe diem. The more I know about the group the more I liked them.
Popotamo

Conmoción planetaria

Al holandés fumeta (Rijkaard) no le convencía Xavi por bajito y débil, a Silva le costó encontrar equipo por lo mismo. Lo del Martes en Londres y lo del clásico es tan catastrófico como apocalíptico.


Los violinistas y ascetas quedaran marginados a favor de los tuercebotas violentos de metro noventa, estructura robusta y cabezas vacías. Manolo y Benito derrotaron a Michel Angelo y Da Vinci. Adiós al fútbol como se conocía hasta el sábado negro y vuelta al juego trabado y anodino, alocados gigantones propiciandose codazos, arrastrándose por el lodo, rompiendo tibias y volando cabezas a patadas. Despidamos a los exquisitos, a Gutis, Garrinchas, Zidanes, a Bielsas y a Guardiolas, a la España del tiqui-taca, al pase al hueco, las filigranas por las banda, rabonas, a lo excelso, a los dibujos desenvueltos, bienvenidos "patadon pa alante", bloqueos ilegales, el todos abajo, los Pepes desquiciados, Arbeloas de suciedad subterranea, Khediras troncos, toscos integristas sumisos usando las botas como rifles, correcaminos sin ton ni son.


La próxima eurocopa la ganará Grecia o Turquia, con las tácticas mou. En las escuelas de futbol ya no se harán rondos, se enseñará full contact. Los equipos no buscaran perlas en Brasil o Argentina, acudiran a las canteras locales de reformatorios peligrosos, y la universidad de los preparadores físicos seran Alcala Meco y Herrera de la Mancha. Los mejores conjuntos del mundo residiran en Ciudad Juarez, Bagdad y en las aldeas de Libia, y se avecina la hegemonia de Colombia y sus carteles en los próximos mundiales. Las plantillas seran de 40 jugadores para soportar dos bajas por cita. Adios Messi, deja tu plaza a Goicoechea, agur Iniesta, que tiene q entrar Benito, ciao Lahm mejor que juegue Marcelo, no vuelvas Silva, preferimos a Mike Tyson.


Los libros de historia registraran la fecha  junto a otras aciagas, Septiembre del 39, Febrero de 1917, 28 junio 1914. Igual que a los humanísticos helenos siguió una época de sombra y barbarie así asistimos al ocaso de la belleza estética, la épica, la caballerosidad, la emoción y el buen gusto sobre los prados verdes. El sábado no se perdió un clásico sino que se asentarón las bases del reino de la oscuridad, Sauron-Mou en los estadios.Lo dijo la biblia, 7 años de vacas gordas seguidos de 7 flacas. Coentrao es la nueva plaga de Egipto. Ha muerto el futbol  Descanse en Paz. 

             

  Arte Sept. 2008 (primer partido de la era Pep) - 21/04/2012.

Pd. solo queda un rescoldo de esperanza, si los simpáticos ebanistas bavaros con su compositor galo consiguen derrotar a los lusitanos criminales en el Bernabeu y el equipo de baloncesto del barrio pijo de Londres sucumbe ante los deprimidos bajitos blaugranas habrá un atisbo de esperanza, sino preparad las palas y enterrad la época gloriosa que tuvisteis el privilegio de vivir, direis a vuestros nietos, yo ví al Messias.