Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Global Slavery Index 2016 Estimates 45.8 Million People Trapped In Modern Slavery

Edward Snowden performed 'public service,' Eric Holder says | NOLA.com

Monday, May 30, 2016

American Pathology!

We love to kill things. But, it will be our own demise!

Outrage after gorilla Harambe killed when child falls into exhibit at Cincinnati ​Zoo - CBS News

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Walking Sundays...
Today is Domingo (Sunday), so I'm at El Puntarron, where friend Faisal works, and they offer a 'vegitariano hambergesa.'  Also a torte de zannahoria, or carrot cake.
I hope to bring Salva and Loreli here, but not on a Sunday, as too many customers, dogs, flies, etc.  You can sit out on their terrace and hear the river below.   But, waiting I spend my time killing flies, as too many and aggressive (keep landing).  I have brought a weapon (matamoscas), and they end up on the floor.  I'm a killer, a murderer of flying insects!
I point to what I want to eat to the waiter (not Faisal), but soon brings me a glass of cervesa and tapas (the standard).  But, I tell him he's made a mistake, to give to someone else. 
I'm no longer drinking alcohol.  People don't think you could possibly different.  In fact, they don't think at all, just robotic behavior.   But, he's a nice guy, and later leave him a 10% tip (most don't).
I ask para agua sin frio, sin yellow.  I get a 1.5 liter bottle for $3U.S.  I have to remember not to order pan (bread) as they charge for it as well.
The first time I ate here, after Cesar introduced me to the place (and Faisal), I had the veggie-burger, cooked well.  Today, different cook, all greasy from being fried.  Again, people don't think… Normally, people who want to eat healthy (vegetarianos) might order a vegitariano hambergesa, and would like other than fried.
People, around the world, particularly in Boldivia, JUST DON'T THINK (nobody has taught them how to think)!
The only customers here at El Puntarron (it means a 'point' of something…?) when I arrived at 1200, were four 'talking machines,' four women, related to the family owners.  Not once did they stop to even take a breath the words coming like machine-gun bullets.  If they got paid by the word they'd be millionaires! 
Marx was wrong, it's not 'religion' (at least in 2016) that's the opiate but talking!  This phenom., particularly evident in Latin speaking countries.  I call it the 'Wa-wa!
While I'm eating a couple, man and woman, arrive with a dog arrive.  Why bring a dog to a restaurant full of cats?  And as it turns out, the 'Moma' cat, a large white one, attacks the dog, and they go crazy, spoiling any type of tranquillo.  I'm thinking Sundays not a good time to eat at a restaurant (in Monachil).   I depart in the midst of the crazy barking, wanting now to get away from people with dogs!
I walk across the road, up on a hill, sit and eat my chocolate pastry I'd purchased earlier) in seclusion.  This, my weakness, sweets!  The view is of Monachil below, and on a nice sunny day.  Note, yesterday, a front moved through with a cool wind and some showers.
Descending into Monachil, via the 'tar road' as Cesar calls it, I get the idea to walk up the one on the south side of the river.  The one that departs near Cesar's building/Third Bridge, and goes up sharply.  What was I thinking?  Some times I'm the one that's not thinking!
And speaking of 'thinking,' I'm thinking, that really, Free Will, is an illusion… We're (I'm) controlled by 'the Gods!'  They move me around the world, hither and yon, for their enjoyment.  Today, it was up a 30%-grade hard-surface, narrow road, at least two kilometers, for what reason…?  To see what was there.  The sign 'advertised' some Vale, in 600mts., but I don't think I ever found such.  I kept going up and up, stepping off the 'hard' surface, to let vejicuos pass. 
Certainly, I don't think cycling up a good idea, as little room for passing you, and stopping, getting started again. Maybe the young men in spandex with no weight could make it.
I pass cherry-tree orchards (huertos, you don't pronounce the 'h'), and a sign for a hotel.
I finally get up to a junction (sign included I hope, if not at www.cyclingpeace.org/gallery/).  I take the one saying no vejiculos, basically a camino (path).  I liked the direction (south), as I was curious about the distant ridge. 
I walk another kilometer, enjoying the Parque Natural to my left (steep up with pine trees)- finally, I'm out in Nature (ah, the reason I've come).  On the right, however, 'civilization,' a green sloping down with huertos (orchards), and some dwellings (roads of course).  I never get to ridge (long flat, east to west). 
Inside a fence (open gate), and at a canyon, I stop and eat the other one-half of my pastry.  At least I saved part of it for now.   I take a 'selfie.'
By now it's 330P.M. and I decide time to return home.  I haven't seen one person, nor hear any dogs barking.
I walk down, the hard surface road and at the hotel sign, decide to walk up the steep driveway and investigate. 
At this point I'm concerned about my feet pounding the hard surface, but no pain yet (later).  My feet at 76-years of age, aren't what they used to be!  I have to be careful of the kind of footwear I use and how far I walk on a hard surface.  If too far, they 'begin talking to me!'
The hotel… The sign says (see foto.), MONACHIL and 'three stars.'  A fat woman, maybe the proprietor, answers 'no restaurante,' and gives me a 'homemade' narrow strip of paper with their website address:  www.laalmuniadelvale.com.  Departing I notice a swimming pool and older people reading books in chaise lounges.   I don't see any bicycles.  I'll bet this hotel is where rich Granadians come for the weekend, away from the 'madding crowd!'  There's a nice view up Alto Vale.
Back at Sonia's (my home in Monachil), I eat an orange and take a bath.  She has left me something she's cooked, with a note that reads, FOR YOU HART!  I write on it, GRACIAS, PARA MI CORAZON?  Late, for dinner, I discover these are the Spanish version of potato pancakes, and good.
I'm tired and after trying to read CRIME AND PUNISHMENT again (gave up), am in bed by 2100 hours, but still light outside.
They've oriented the clock in Spain, for a much later schedule (siesta), more like 10 to 10. I'm more like 6 to 6.  Up in the dark, in bed when still light.
Que hacer?
H.

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I have the same desire just to disappear, that Lila does, one of the characters in Elena Ferrante's 'THE STORY OF A NEW NAME' (Book two of the Neapolitan Series).  Lila wants to erase any evidence of her life.  I want just to disappear, creating a mystery!  'What happened to him?'  If there is no 'habeas corpus,' there can be no death certificate.
But, how to accomplish?  It's almost impossible not to leave a trace, a clue, if you go live in a cave or commit suicide.   Also, there's always someone motivated to solve a mystery, as so curious, nee Sherlock Homes, 'elementary, my dear Watson'…
My only hope, the Gods snatch me away to another world!
Why do I want such?  I don't want friends or family to have to deal with my death, in the way we do now (in Modern Life, 2016).
The Western (even Eastern) way of dying-death is fraught with incongruities, with religion, with government, with documents, funerals, grieving, with all the 'bullshit' we've created.  We need to change how we think about death and dying, as currently it's a mess!
I just want to vanish without a trace!  Just be gone, not here!
I suppose in time, family and friends would hold some kind of event, a ceremony, that performs the function of 'saying goodbye' (letting go) of the idea that I have a body!
These kind of events should be a 'celebration,' a party, not the typical funeral where people (wear black in the West, white in the East), and are supposedly sad, etc.  I believe we have it all wrong, we should lament birth (beginning 'school'), and celebrate 'death' (as 'graduation!')
Interesting, how we think of living-dying… It's all wrong in my opinion!
What to do, for me at least?  Just disappear!  C'mon Gods, snatch me away to another 'world!'  'Bingo, outta hear!'
H.

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Cycling Sabados…
I'm sitting on the ground on a hill overlooking a 'Disney' valley -- certainly it is not real!  This might be the most beautiful vista of my entire life, and I've been many places!  I'm overwhelmed by what feelings being here  engender.  It's a combination both of deja vu (I've been here before!), and the feeling I've come 'home!'
In front of me, the green, open slope, falling from a rocky pinnacle, down into a carpet of yellow flowers at the bottom.  Yet, with plots at right angles, a patch-work quilt, the collaboration between Nature and man.
On the right, the carratera (two-lane asphalt highway) up from Monachil where I live now, some 8KM.  But, up, steeply up!  7KMs takes me two hours, and that's only 3.5KM per hour. 
I think I've been looking for this valley, this scene, all my life!  And to sit here, and feel like I do, unusual!  There is not a sound but the wind, an occasional motor on the highway.
On the other hand, there are many cyclists!  Here in Andalusia, Spain, cycling is not an anomaly, but the rule.  One hundred cyclists go up and down this highway on the week ends.  But, most young wearing spandex, in training!  Today there were a few with fatter tires, a few older.  However, I'm sure I'm the only one, way older, and with weight (panniers, front and back).
Today, I brought my lunch, a cheese sandwich, canned artichoke (alchocafa in Es.) hearts.  In addition, some cherry tomates, and an orange. For postres, a chocolate muffin.  And to wash down some vitaminas, remolacha (beet) juice, courtesy of Biotta, the Swiss company.  I used to buy this in the U.S., now happy to have found it again in the Herbolarias in Granada proper.
Below to my left, a small hacienda.  Beyond and up to the right, hidden in trees, a small cottage.  Many of these dwellings, used only on weekends or during summer vacations.  I must acquire the resources to either rent or purchase one of these.
This area borders the Sierra Nevada Mountain National Park.   In fact, the larger house, faces the still snowy tops (at 3k mts. ASL).  There are two peaks at 3,400mts. / 11,500ft. ASL, the highest points in all of Spain!  Guess why I live here in this area?
Most people don't know much about latitude and longitude, except for sailors like my friend Richard.  But, Granada is at 37-degrees north latitude, and about the same as Colorado Springs, Co., U.S.A. (or E.E.U.U. in Es.).  So, with some elevation, there's liable to be snow on the tops.  I'll bet there is snow at the top of Pike's Peak (near Colorado Springs), even though almost June (Junio in Es.).
Today, here, a cool wind brought clouds, and I had to add my rain jacket while sitting.  Note, much exertion/perspiration wets clothing nee feeling colder.  This always a situation cycling up into higher elevations.  I remember Tibet, sometimes having to put on my down jacket when resting up on 5Kmt. / 16,000ft. passes.
But, here… the sunlight, the fresh air, getting here on Senor Fetes (with James B.).  How can I thank the Gods for this, the Lotus Flower has penetrated the jewel!
I have finally cycled to Heaven!
H.
P.S.  I took fotos. of course, but my digital camera doesn't do this scene justice.  I need Ansel Adams and his 8X12 photo-plate camera.  Or, you have to be here in person!

Friday, May 27, 2016

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What is 'freedom?'
Why do 'I' do what 'I' do?  Is it 'me' the 'I' that's doing 'it,' or the Gods destroying me for their enjoyment?  If so, why?  Am I that important, or just another human being to 'play with,' like a cat torturing a mouse?  Have I done something the Gods don't like or is it just for their pleasure to watch me suffer?
Alive or dead (w/o a body) is there a difference?
Why was I given a body in the first place?  I will have 'come' and 'gone' for what?
Why am I still 'in body' at 76-years of age?  Is there a purpose?  When I depart the body, will the fact I've had one, have some significance?  Will it have mattered?
What is human existence all about?  Is there a reason for it, or just a cosmic mistake?
Is any human to know, to understand, or we, just 'puppets' the Gods 'pulling the strings?'  Could this possibly be?  Have we, as a species, done something to deserve such a fate, 'to strut and fret our hour upon the stage, and then gone, never to be heard of again?'  Are we 'poor players?'  Or, is the cult of Mithras, the truth as to the genesis of the Cosmos?  Can humans know?
Is 'IT' a forever mystery impossible to decipher until we 'shed the body?'
At this point in my own development as a 'homono' sapien ('not so' wise person), 'I k-no-w' that there are other 'worlds!'
What will happen to me, to us, will I, do we, transcend (evolve) to another 'won?'
Do I suffer for a reason? Do I have a need to think so?
What if all of this is for naught, that 'life' has no meaning?  Is this possible, that 'life' is meaningless, and that it is the 'unkindest cut of all!'
I know on a dualistic level, that without suffering there is no gain.  That the act of self-destruction, is not without 'creation!'  We, who are 'creators,' cannot, create without destroying, and mostly ourselves! 
We are 'trapped' in duality once confined in a body (the physical-material world).   Once beyond such, in the 'Singular' world, 'FREEDOM!'
On the other hand, these are just English words… What is 'freedom?'
H.

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Oh, the mujeres in Granada, ooouuulala!  If only I wasn't a celibate Taoist monk-ey!  If only I were younger!  If only, I'd be tempted to start a relationship, 'That Obscure Object of Desire!' (Thank you, Luis Bunuel!) -- 'Nature's Joke' on us!
In the meantime, it's just looking, I still have some of that testos…
Today, a day in Granada proper, first to apply for an NIE # at the Gobierno de Extranjeros, better known in English as the 'Foreigners Department,' of of a larger Immigration!   This, just to open a bank account, because all governments worried you're going to exclude them by not paying taxes (their share).   We've created 'monsters!'
As an aside, later in the morning, 'flashing foward' as the say… I'm eating desayuno at the Cafeteria Guerrero on Plaza de la Trinidad (The one Cesar first took me too.).  This was at 1130, suddenly surrounded by a mass of people going somewhere as they pass on the sidewalk to my left.  I wonder what is happening?  The young woman serving me explains it's a Festival, but not what kind?  So, I surmise having read the notice on the front door of the Extranjero Edificio, something about 'Corpus,' which means 'body,' which in any Catholic country means the 'body of Christ.'  So, I'm wondering if this Festival has to do with Pentacost, which occurs seven Sundays after Easter.  But, this isn't Sunday, it's Wednesday ('Miercoles' in Espanol).  The most recent Easter Sunday was the 27th of March, and now it's eight weeks later... so es possible…?
With all the clamor, a band playing, the crowds I'm thinking I'm going to have to find another Cafeteria as this one too close to the Large Main one, they call Catedral Capilla Real.  I like quiet, tranquilo, to read, to contemplate what I'm missing being a celibate Taoist monk-ey...
The people passing, as in going somewhere, all dressed up, especially the children, little girls in flamenco dresses!  All the families, the grandparents pushing the babies, so proudly 'decked out.'  I'm glad I'm not a part of such.
People often ask me, 'Don't you wish you had children of your own?'  I tell them, 'No, I'm happily without!  But, you go right ahead, you'll find out too late!
What a day I'd gotten myself into in the City, up at 0600, departing 'Monachillled' by 0745, not to be late.  Being me, I had planned the route, so as not to get lost.  One doesn't want to mess up an appointment with the Gobierno, as then more delay.  
Governments don't mind wasting your time, as its 'worthless' (at least to them)!  There's is valuable, yours is 'worthless!'  Ah, what 'monsters' we have created and only ourselves to blame!   WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY AND HE IS US!
It was overcast and cool on the way down (Monachil is 200 meters higher than Granada).  I stopped at the ronda, where there's a traffic light (Spanish drivers stop when there's a red light, not like in Cochabamba, Bo.).  I took the opportunity to put on my rain jacket which is a good windbreaker.
On the westside of Granada Centro, I stopped at the RR bridge to check my map.  There were two ways to get there from Monachil, but I realized I'd gone beyond the first option.    But, a right and left turn and I was suddenly going the same way Cesar had taken me (the week prior).  I think to myself, Mercury must have gone 'direct!'
I was at the Gobierno building at 0820, forty minutes early. I locked Senor Fetes to a convenient bike 'pole' (Note, they're not a 'rack' per se, but a circular piece of steel pipe cemented in the sidewalk.  They think of cyclists in Spain, not like Boldivia.).  Here in Spain we have stature!
Flash forward #3…  Suddenly the crowd is landing like a flock of birds at all the tables around me.  I think maybe the Festival has concluded.  If they keep descending I'll have to move, as I have completed eating, now just reading, sipping my cold green/ginseng tea. 
Near me are five older men, tourists, checking their teles. and cameras.  It's funny to watch older people swipe their screens, unsure about such…
I was feeling sleepy, so I thought, if more customers come I'll give up my table and move to a park bench, maybe doze in the sun.
Flashing back, the Gov. building, my appointment, it opened right on time (0900).  I asked for an 'otro' (another) form to fill out, as Irit had ruined the first (inadvertently, of course, trying to help, but…).  I'm somewhat of a perfectionist, and don't like what she had done without asking first, scriboling on it-- strange how people can be…
I filled out the 'new' blank form, and sat to wait for my 0930 appointment.  I always try to be 'ahead of the game!'
The middle-aged woman, the Spanish 'official,' who I was directed to was efficient, and even friendly.  She could speak some English, after asking me if I understood Spanish.  There was something I didn't, but ultimately, she had me sign a document and told me to return in one week.  I was impressed with the entire process, as so different from Bolivia.  I'm back in 'civilization' again, when drivers stop for 'peatones' crossing the street!  They, the drivers of motor vehicles, even obey traffic lights!  Wow!  People in Bolivia had asked me WHY I was moving... 
After dealing with applying for my NIE, I thought I should go to Western Union, which, I found on via the Internet, was a part of a Correos (post office).  I was to collect some E.  I was slightly amazing as I'd discovered that I'd been there before several weeks back.  How convenient, as not that distant from the Extranjeros building.  And I got there in a 'jiffy!'  When I got there so quickly and efficiently I said to myself, thinking again, 'Mercury has definitely gone direct!'
Inside, however, there were many people waiting.  But, as the Spanish Government is organized, you take a #, and wait your turn.  I didn't have to wait long, but ended up with a male 'clerk' (what to call these people?) who became unhappy when I didn't understand his Spanish.  And it was my fault, as I hadn't said I was there to 'receive' E, rather than 'send' it.  In frustration, he finally pulled out his own cash, but that didn't help me understand.  As always, however, an 'angel' appeared to help and translated the question in English.  Thereafter, no problem, yet an elaborate process, a long wait.  Whenever money is involved, there is much checking (of ID, #s, etc.) and several documents to sign.  But, in the end I got what had been sent.  At the same time I had it to send my postcards, but with so many people waiting, I decided against it -- I would do it later at a different Correos.  One, must be thoughtful of others...
Outside a woman asked me (in Spanish) about the remolacha (beet) juice bottle I carry on 'Senor Fetes.  She was curious.  Why?  Where to get?  She knew it was good for the liver ('higado' in Es.), but where to buy?  At the Herbolaria's I told her, and she seemed to know about such!  We agreed, 'Muy salud!'  And I was off again, this next stop at Liberia Babel, my new favorite bookstore.  I had been wanting to purchase another book to read, maybe another Elena Ferrante novel.  There I found one, but confused, ended up with book #2, of Ferrantes' 'Neapolitan Series' about two girls and growing up in Naples, Italy.   Lila and Lenu (Elena actually), their 'shit' lives.   I'd actually wanted one of her earlier novels, not of the Series, but I didn't notice and purchased it. These books, well done, translated/printed/published, are expensive however, at $25U.S. each.  But, besides, 'Senor Fetes,' I don't have many 'vices!'
So, with my new book (without knowing I'd purchased the wrong one), I looked forward to reading it -- my favorite thing, reading books.   I then cranked off and headed for the Cafeteria, described early (in 'flash forwards' or 'flash-backs?').  I forgot to add earlier, however, that at the Cafeteria on Plaza de la Trinidad, I had donated 5E / $6U.S. to an older musician playing an accordion.  He was shocked, as rarely does anyone ever give more than change.  I also gave him one of our new cycling postcards (me and Cesar, with the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas Las Montanas in the b.g.).  He kissed the postcard, and continued to play.
By then, the band had ceased playing, and along with the crowd departing, I was caught in the tsunami of people flooding the street.  I stopped to wait while most passed.  Then as a taxi invaded, honking, I fell in behind as it 'opened the way' for me.
People get out of the way of automobiles, but not bicycles (you have to make a loud noise)…
I turned off at the nearest side street to make better time. 
When the day had begun, my plan was to stay all day long in Granada,waiting for my bici. shop, called Indian, to reopen (after siesta), at 1700 hours.  But, then a change of plans as I noticed it was only 1300 hours, and they didn't close for 'siesta' until 1400 hours.  Plus, on this Fiesta Day, I wanted out of Granada!  I'm not big on crowds. 
People are always suggesting I go to tourist sites, assuming I like what they like.  I'll probably go to THE ALHAMBRA (the #1 tourist attraction in all of Spain) eventually, but it will be on a weekday in the winter, I'm in no hurry.
I made Indian's in time, but Oscar had no good news for me.  I would have to return again in a week to find out about the cassette/chain I want to purchase (time for new).  The situation, getting bicycle gear, is beginning to remind of of Bolivia.
In addition, the adjacent papeleria (stationery store) was closed so I headed back up to Monachil.
All and all, however, a productive day in Centro Graadaski, happy about Mercury, and the fact it wasn't still in retrograde (causing us many problems).   Mercury in Retrograde having caused me such trouble in the last two weeks:  illness, falling twice, once cranking up to Monachillout, ultimately unable to accompany Cesar as invited on his trip to the Cadiz area.
Ah, life, sometimes a challenge…  BUT, WE LET NOTHING STOP US!
H.

Is this the world’s most radical mayor? | Dan Hancox | World news | The Guardian

They changed to make money! Simple! Money is God in 'Viollywood!'

Children in the U.S. complain about having to walk to school. Guess who win in a WW between the U.S. and China? Guess?

Such Ka, ka! We made them, used them (the only country to do so), and now it's like we've forgotten all of how we're guilty of such!

Fuck the environment, via the Dumpster a la Trumpster!

Thursday, May 26, 2016

American Pathology!

And OH BE WOE UNTO US FOR THIS!

Road to Granada: Extraordinary refugee project of Munich Airport - eTurboNews.com

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Street art to heal Paris streets, six months after the attacks | euronews, world news

Money is God, what would you expect?

American Pathology!

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It's somewhat of a mystery, what's happening to me;  the pain of suffering as if nailed on the Cross, metaphorically of course.  Nonetheless, a transformation of sorts…  I feel like I'm dying, but of course we all are from the moment we're born.  The pain, however, is like a mother giving birth, me rather than a human baby, some important idea!  I have the 'Amfortas Wound' in my side, my ailing liver!
On one hand I still have the energy to cycle up the mountain, then the next moment, I feel like I'm going to collapse from exhaustion.  I know what this is, the 'Christ energy' entering me!  If this sounds 'unworldly,' it is!  It's the Ego dying and the Self being born!
This happened to Jesus of Nazareth in a more profound way.  Mine not as great, but...
We will see what can be done to save humanity from itself, with the idea, 'IAHCRA!' A Spiritual Chronicle of Being…
H.

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I'm still alive, heart beating,
76 trombones,
Alones,
I'm in pain all the time,
I kill flies,
So many ills,
I wonder...
What is it all about,
Life-death,
The struggle,
For what, the
Ego desires,
Flat tires?
Only a memory
My parents,
Others,
For what,
For why?
Who cares,
Who dares
To ask?
I'm still alive
But, for how long
And why?
H.

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In Monachil,
We love the church carillion,
The bells ringing,
Not the strife
Of motor traffic,
The unconsciousness
Of human kind,
The fruit rind,
The decay,
Hey!
Dying, we worry and hurry
Quicker to the grave
When needed a rave!
Consuming robots
Marching to the Capitalism beat,
We go without
'Noing!'
H.

Monday, May 23, 2016

What a 'crock!' I've been down the 'Death Road,' twice on 'Senor Fetes,' and it's not dangerous (unless you're stupid). The misnomer, used to promote business for tour companies, came from deaths caused by buses unable to pass on the narrow road.

Sargamatha, the 'Mother Goddess of the World,' angry at so many 'commercial' climbers!

This a 'chess move' against China.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Bespoke bikes: 'You've got to want something different' - BBC News

BBC - Travel - The longest train journey in India

BBC - Travel - The places the world forgot

It's going to come to this, if we don't reduce over-population!

Yes, I'm 76, and hardly sleep! Yet, I can tour-cycle with weight. Sleeping has to do with dreaming, not rest.

American Pathology!

Money is God, what would you expect. They must 'win' at all costs!

Show those tits, baby, and get paid, a 'fan' of...

Who cares about our health, it's money/profit that's God!

American Pathology!

American Pathology!

Friday, May 20, 2016

While I was living there I touted electric bicycles, but nobody understood.

Most people want to accept refugees, survey finds - The Washington Post

American Pathology!

Oklahoma living in a 'Dark Age!' Be glad you don't live there!

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And then the next day, more of the same abuse, courtesy of 'Mercury in Retrograde!'  I fell twice, and locked myself out of Sonia's house (keys inside my other shorts).  Battered, bruised, and out of sorts, I had to walk to where Irit had parked her house (van) in the lot not far from where Cesar lives.  I have not a tele., and I wonder not a good idea for me to get one, as sometimes 'handy' (additionally, I'd have a #, which is almost required now when filling out a website form -- to register).  I remember checking out the least expensive movil at THE HOUSE OF PHONES, in the shopping mall.  I think the bottom-line (no, no 4G, probably 2G) for $80U.S.  The latest, greatest iPhone (Apple) costs something like $1,500U.S.
The morning had started out positively, with a visit from Frieda, Sonia's friend.  Sonia wanted to know about the Acupunc. session, how did I respond, etc.?  I offered positive feedback, 'more energia,' etc.  Sonia charges 15E per session, I gave her 20E.  I believe in always paying more, not less!  
Frieda had joined Sonia, to translate, and also to inform me of her yoga classes, M,W., and F. mornings at 0900.  This is the basic Hatha Yoga, con asanas (postures), etc.  I will attend one day per week, as yoga useful, in addition I help Frieda.  She mentioned that Cesar used to attend, but then stopped. 
People come and go, for inexplicable reasons, nothing new here -- things change everyday!
I went on to La Barb. at the usual time, around 1100, this to do my online 'work,' uploading blogs and fotos, checking email, etc.   One important message I needed to send to Cesar, to meet me at La Barb. tomorrow at 1300 hours.  Plus, I've discovered the people at La Barb. make a wonderful 'sopa de filjol' (bean soup), and with a croissant, a perfect almuerzo para 6E or $7U.S.  Today, it turned out to be pumpkin (calabaza) on top of which they sprinkle nueces (walnuts).
Irit came, and we ended up back at Sonia's, where I made her lunch, a simple one of a goat-cheese sandwich con tomates, what else, Earl Gray te.  We had come to collect a piece of luggage I don't need now, and she does, travelling (back to Israel).  This, one of those 'Hecho in Chine,' I had purchased for my German trip last summer.  I think it cost all of 100bs. (Bolivian currency) at La Cancha (Cochabamba), which equates to something like $15U.S.
Since I was planning to cycle into Granada to pick up my postcards, I hurried to change clothing, forgetting I'd transferred my lleves (keys) into my morning 'shorts.'   Now, in my cycling shorts, I closed the front door locking myself out.  I noticed this because I always hang my keys on a carabiner attached to my backpack.  Oh, woe was me, que hacer?  Irit had departed to return to her 'home,'
Lord, lord, lord!  I tried the window, which slid easily open, but then the bars prevent.  I tried my Swiss Army knife, one of the tools, to try it in the lock.  I thought about climbing up to my open window on the second floor, but decided against that, because I'm still recovering from my bicycle accident (sore).  I finally decided I had to walk to where Irit was, as she has a movil.  We needed to let Sonia know.  I prayed that she hadn't left town, or I would have ended up in a local motel for the night.  I cursed, the planet Mercury!
Luckily, Irit was there, washing a plastic pot, she found in the basara.  I noticed she was washing it with mud in the adjacent stream. 
Note, much clear/clean water comes rushing down from the Sierra Nevada Mountains, still nieve (snow) up higher.  Part of the reason I'm living here in Monachil, I love the sound of rushing water (negative ions included).
Irit, always glad to help called Sonia, but Sonia was unavailable (foto. of Irit, included or attached).   Waiting, for Sonia to call, Irit sorted out all of the documents she had collected, wanting to leave the important ones safely with me.  Note, she planned to leave her van (home) parked in the lot while on her trip.
Then, via Irit's 'smart' tele., there was some indication Sonia, had read the SMS message.   But, she hadn't replied.  So, I thought best to return, in case Sonia went to open the door.
I returned, but stopped off in the adjacent park to take fotos, one of a window, one of a statue, and one of a quote from Virginia Wolfe (in Spanish).  I thought, how odd, a Wolfe quote in a park in Monachil, Andalusia, Spain!   You can read the quote, in English, at www.cyclingpeace.org/gallery/  I think the album is the first one about the latest Monachil fotographs.  Note, I have almost 200 albums, going back to 2010, and our trip to Mt. Kailas. 
I hadn't been back at the house long, in fact, just sitting down to read my latest purchase, Elena Ferrante's MY BRILLIANT FRIEND, when Sonia arrived.  I thanked her profusely, hating to inconvenience people because of my stupidity.
Inside, now too late to go into Granada, I decided to rest!  I've been exhausted by the mishaps, accidents, and 'enfermedad'  (illness) caused by MERCURY IN RETROGRADE!   Trust me, that has been the cause of it all, what the French call 'malerb!' or bad energy.
I read Elena's book, and took a nap.
End of a crazy day, week, move, and life sometimes suffering 'the slings and arrows' of outrageous fortune'
But, we let, even that, not stop us!
H.

Thursday, May 19, 2016

170516 BLOK

170516 BLOK, Martes (Tuesday).
Up early, 0600, with the usual drill now at Sonia's… Down in the kitchen for desayuno, coffee, fruit, a chocolate muffin, sometimes soya yoghurt.
Then outside in the sun, to stretch, to move, to greet the day (when not cloudy).  I'm a sun person and today (or yesterday as I write this), the sun came out.  But, I must say, speaking of the sun and/or the clima here in Andulasia… They've, because Spain is a 'later,' rather than 'earlier' culture, the sun doesn't come over the hill here at Sonia's house until 0930.
I felt good!  But, by the end of the day, not so good.
Part of the 'drill' now, because I don't have the Internet here in the house, I go to La Barbaria, to get online and have lunch -- at 1100.  Their 'sopa de Fitjol,' (bean soup) perfecto, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise!
Today, Irit and I exchanged email messages, and tried to meet.  I returned to the house, and waited until 1500 hours (3P.M.), but then had to depart for Granada, Centro.  I needed to approve the postcard at the printers, and purchase something to read like a novel by a female author (My event project:  IN PRAISE OF FEMALE AUTHORS in mind.) also a Spanish dictionario.
It took 35 minutes from the house in Monachil, taking Cesar's route at average speed to get to Plaza Trinidad (near the printers).  I don't rush.  Yet, I was early so went one cuadra ('block' in the U.S.) from Babel Liberia (my favorite book store) to sit outside at a Cafe and wait the 45-minutes until they reopened.  Note, this is the culture of the siesta, and businesses/stores close in the afternoon, generally something like three hours, 2-5P.M. 
There are many 'sidewalk' cafes in Granada, maybe thousands, as it a popular thing to do. I parked 'Senor Fetes' against un arbor in front of the cafe, always with tables/chairs under umbrellas.  I sat down to order at a vacant mesa (table).  A happy, overweight, young black woman showed up, and I pointed to 'Herbal Te,' on the menu and asked for a chocolate croissant.  No, none of those, but one with mermelada (jam, preserves, jelly, etc.).  O.K., I'm easy to please.  While waiting I tried to get la mesa secure, but finally gave up and moved to another in the sun.  When the happy young woman returned I was served, not herbal tea, but black tea, and instead of a croissant with mermelada, I got pan (bread) with such.  Oh well.  I didn't complain, but drank the black tea and had the idea to give the pan to a street person sitting nearby on a bench.  Things always work out, if you are patient.  Later, I paid the 3.20E, / $4U.S. and gave the woman a 1E propina ('tip').  Always give, my rule!
Also, an interesting thing nearby, a water fountain, with never-ending flow.  See foto. at www.cyclingpeace.org/gallery/  Many passersby partook of such.  This is interesting to me, as water, in this area (Granada) comes directly off the montanas, is plentiful and safe to drink.   Another anomaly, to me at least, on the opposite end, toilet paper is flushed down, not thrown in a bin.
I gave the pan to the man on the bench, and he took it reluctantly, as so surprised.  I'm thinking not many, or enough, do this kind of thing.
At Babel I was successful in finding a book that looked interesting, a novel by Elena Ferrante, entitled, MY BRILLIANT FRIEND!   But, so highly touted, 'One of the Great Novelists of our Time'' -- The New York Times Book Review (note no name) -- a writer I'd never even heard of is 'one of the great novelists of our time…  Where have I been?  Out of it in Boldivia!
I object to these turgid and overblown accolades on the covers of books. I think authors do this kind of thing to get their names and titles associated -- they compete for the most lavish praise!
When I write my 'masterpiece,' I'm going to insist on something more objective.
At Babel I also found a handy Spanish dictionary.  I may learn Spanish yet! 
The 'tab,' 27E / $30U.S. for both.  The novel was a spendy 20E, but well printed.  I appreciate such in this day and age, of reducing costs for more profit.  This book well bound.  We will she if she's 'one of the great novelists of our time?'  If she even comes close she'll be the Italian novelist we invite to our event, IN PRASIE OF FEMALE AUTHORS!  Stay tuned!
I went on to the printer's (Fotocopias -- Martinez) to proof and order my postcards, 500 of them, if they had done a good job.  Cesar had introduced me to the 'mom and pop' place the previous Friday.  I was early, of course, but took the opportunity to seek purchasing more 'Licorice Root' (herb) for my higado (liver) at a nearby 'Herbolaria,' a chain in Granada.  The female dependiente (sales clerk) I recognized from another location.  She speaks some English, but with the news 'no,' they dodn't have here either.  Seems all of Granada, has no Licorice Root herb (Glycyriza Glabra in Latin.).  I bought blueberry soya yoghurt and Beet juice instead. 
Still with time I found a fly swatter for 1E… I wonder what 'fly swatter' is in Spanish?  It isn't even in the BIG 'Diccionario Oxford Study,' although this gift from Irit, and is ten-years used.
Finally, the couple that operate 'Fotocopias -- Martinez' opened (at 1730 hours).  He's overweight and rides a motorcycle, she speaks some English.  I looked at the postcard proof, and approved as good enough.  When to pick up?  Manana a 1750 hours, Miercoles.  I told them I'd be there!  Turns out I didn't make for the unpleasant event that happened going up the hill, courtesy of MERCURY IN RETROGRADE...
I followed the same route back to Monachil, past Cervantes statue (con caballo), and then south.  On the way I stopped to check out a store Salva had recommended, called SPRINTER'S.  This in a huge shopping mall.  Sprinter's turned out to be only selling 'ropa de desportes,' (They didn't even have a 'neck band,' for lack of a better description -- the stretchable piece of synthetic cloth I wear around my neck and I can pull up to cover my nose.  What would you call these?)
On the way out, I looked into the HOUSE OF PHONES, as curious to the least expensive movil possible, and it turned out to be 70E or $80U.S.  This one doesn't cook your dinner!  But, all I want is a #, as all the forms, when registering at websites, INSIST, you give your movil#!
Then exiting the banos, I discovered a coin machine that takes your blood pressure.  Curious as to mine, I stopped, but then couldn't figure out how to operate, as the arm cuff only went on your wrist.  Note, normally these cuffs go on your upper arm.  So, I asked for help from the cleaning woman, who was only too happy to stop what she was doing.  Additionally, another woman (shopper) stopped to help.  Eventually we figured it out, and for 2E got, not only my blood pressure, something like 120/80, but other facts like my 78ppm (rate).  Note, my resting heart rate is 60ppm.  Why the difference?  I'd been cycling 'out there' (stressful)!
Then up the hill.  Everything went O.K., until cycling up a narrow stretch of sidewalk where there is a bush that sticks out in your way.  I'd managed this before, but today (yesterday actually), for some reason, I lost my balance, then standing to recover, slid backwards and finally fell over, half on the sidewalk and half on the street.  But, my leg was caught under 'Senor Fetes,' and because I was prone, laying at a downhill angle couldn't manage to get up against the gravity.  Amazingly, many motor vehicles stopped to help me!  Two men were there quickly and pulled me and 'Senor Fetes' upright.  And even though this was a minor fall, my left leg, both at the knee and hip, hurt (dolor or pain in Es.). Additionally, I'd managed to scrape off the skin off my elbow.  I thanked all the people who stopped profusely, and assured them I could manage to get home.  One woman asked me where I lived.  I was embarrassed actually to have caused this traffic jam.  Traffic resumed, however, and I pushed up and leaning Senor Fetes against something, a wall I think, to assess the damage.  Nothing much to the bicycle, except the 'headset' was rotated out of alignment.  But, I was shaken. The older you get the more these falls affect you.  I pushed up another 100mts., then got on and rode up the hill, which goes down into Monachill pueblo.
Back home, I first cleansed the wounds, plastered the one at my elbow.  Then I applied my homeopathic cream Trameel to the already swelling knee and hip joints.  I also swallowed some of the same tablets. Trameel, from Rucha in Germany, produces, not only the cream, but the remedy to be swallowed.
After that, I ate some cena (dinner), and started my new novel.  Ah, felled my MERCURY IN RETROGRADE uno vez mas!
BUT, WE LET NOTHING STOP US!
H.
P.S.  Read about the next day, when 'attacked' again!

Not for $200U.S. per hour! Ride a bicycle!

Irony, or a 'connection?' I just completed reading the original DON QUIXOTE, all 800-pages! Michael Palin, a brilliant creator! But, this project took 16 years to fund, giving you some idea about da biz!

One of these days, a mistake is going to be made, someone will fire a missile, some death and destruction leading to a greater conflict between the U.S. and China, with a possible nuclear exchange!

The U.S. going fascist, similar to Nazi Germany!

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

16b0516 BLOK

16b0516 BLOK
Yesterday, Lunes (Monday) I received my first 'Acupunctura' session with Sonia.  This for an ailing higado (liver).  This involved ten needles, one stuck in the very crown of my head. Plus, some heat focused at various points, and at one the heat felt like it was burning me;  became almost unbearable. But, I can withstand dolor (pain).  None of it, however, was that unpleasant.  I lay on a carpet on the floor, and she had her electric heater going, as she knew I was sensitive to cold.  Also, music played from speakers.  Sonia's a professional 'physician,' to lack a better description, versed in Shiatsu, massage, acupuncture, and one other discipline that escapes me.  She knows about nutrition as well.  We get along, she my 'landlady' as well.  I wonder what this term is in Spanish, and since I just purchased a dictionary will look it up. It reads, 'leind liedi,' but could this correct?  How convenient to walk only across the hall from my room to get these session for 20E or $25U.S.!  It's no accident I ended up living here!
My liver… Abused from alcohol, sugar, drugs, etc., and finally started 'screaming' at me!  So, I have made a vow!  I will never again touch alcohol or drugs!  I did both, particularly marijuana, until I was 75 years of age!  But, the body has limits, and each of us reach these limits at different ages.  My father drank himself to death by the age of 59!  My mother succumbed to unhappiness (cancer), by the age of 60!  All four of their children got the message, as was my parent's legacy!  The oldest now 84, the youngest, 71.
Sonia's house in Monachil, made of concrete/brick, like most when we in the world have cut down all the trees (for toilet paper no less).  I forget the statistic about cement/concrete, but something like 99% of it has been created in the last forty years!  Bolivia, China, the same construction, concrete and brick.  Bolivia still has trees, but the Government owns the cement factories, so guess what?  I remember, in my three years living in Cochabamba seeing only one wooden house, a model, when Edgar and I cycled through Quillacolla (sister city to Cochabama).
Before I die I hope to live in a log, wood, or natural (substance) dwelling, circular in shape.  Why I was interest in Claudia's up in the valley above Monachil.  This was a situation I was interested it, up higher, the owner Michael from the U.K., wanting to start a Buddhist retreat.  But, Claudia and boyfriend, still working on completing such.  She said in six weeks, but we know how that goes.  I'm glad I ended up at Sonia's even for being cold inside.
These concrete buildings, like Sonia's house, the walls, they suck out the warm air.   Oh, well, nothing is perfecto in Duality, you always are having to try to balance out the less desirable with the desirable.
Here in Andulasia, where they're concerned about the summer heat, the concrete buildings act as 'air conditioners.'  I can't wait for mas temperatura!  Get up to 40C. I won't complain!
Last week it rained all week long, and with clouds, inside was cold.  Thus, my current 'cold!' 
After the usual at La Barb. (Internet and almuerzo), I coasted down into Centro Granada, to the 'Fotocopias - Martinez' (near Plaza de Trinidad), the print shop where Cesar had taken me.  I needed to deliver the two files (foto. and text) that make up the postcard I want printed.  I was way early (I thought the shop opened at 1700, but not until 1730).  I had to 'kill' time sitting at an adjacent cafe.  Note, see fotos., of such at www.cyclingpeace.org/gallery/  Ah, the women here, the young ones, attractive!  You single guys living wherever, missing out.  Me, just a 'looker,' as a celibate Taoist monk-ey (on a bici.).
Tomorrow I return to 'proof!'
Returning to Monachil, I stopped twice, once to purchase contact lens solution (360ml) for 14E or $16U.S., this at at farmacia (drugstore in the U.S.).  Note, in Bolivia, you have to go to a shop where they sell eye wear, contacts, etc. -- not available at a farmacia.   Ah, every culture has to be different!
I also stopped at the 'Popular' bank ATM (cajera automatico) to get cash.  And here too, the ATMs, the operation different.  Different from Bolivia, the U.S., and Germany!  Plus, they offer odd amounts of cash like 110E or 220E!  Why?
If I were the ruler of the world I would make everything 'one!'  One, language, one set of simple laws, one flag, one of everything, including how the ATMs worked!
But, who in God's name would want to be 'ruler' of the world?  Not me!
From there on to the Indian Bici. Taller, to ask about a new cassette and a new chain, I think it's time.  I had discovered Oscar, the young mechanic, and Antonio (the owner) because right at the end of Salva's street, Santa Rosalia.  And I'm glad of such good fortune, as they are good.  Cesar, has introduced me to another taller (shop) in the Bohemian section of Granada, called 'Bicicletas, El Estacion.' This where ultimately, I will purchase a Brooks (leather) saddle.  But, they cost 100E, and I must wait.
While I was waiting for Oscar (at Indian's) to get a tele. message, about how much E, I purchased two new pedals for 17E.  But, some problem extracting the one on the right, the thread staff, had been improperly inserted!  Ah, Bolivia, so glad to have gotten out alive.
When I first told a friend (who lives in Chile) that I was going to Bolivia (2012), the response was 'much poverty there.'  But, what she didn't understand about such is that there is two kinds of poverty:  physical and mental.  The problem with Bolivia, is the mental poverty, as even the beggars eat.  But, of course, they wouldn't understand, an example of such!
H.
surviving the differences between cultures:  the U.S., Canada, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Germany, The Netherlands, France, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Spain, Libya, Nepal, Thailand, Japan, China,  Mexico, Malaysia, Australia, New Zealand, Chile, Peru, Bolivia, Guatemala, and Mexico! -- 27 countries that I have visited so far!


More good news! The more 'gayness,' the less children, reducing over-population! This is Nature's way of trying to save humanity.

This is good news for a change!

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

How crazy! What we don't need in the Middle East, is more weapons!

Ride a bicycle, live longer, better, healthier!

Wow Woody, porque?

American Pathology!

Ride a bicycle and you won't die of a heart attack!

Monday, May 16, 2016

BBC - Culture - American Honey shows the US as we rarely get to see it

World's largest jet aircraft, 32 wheels, and six engines.

Go Spain, time to reclaim, Gibraltar!

Go Podemos!

It's always the same thing with scoundrels, governments, politicians, etc. But, we're the ones (everybody), and we've made money, God!

Absolute insanity! We have enough without another one! It's the male ego that's the problem in the world!

American Pathology!

Nature is fighting for its survival. And I'll bet on Nature.

16a0516 BLOK

16a0516 BLOK
My FOUR AGREEMENTS...
1,  GIVE! DONATE!  SACRIFICE yourself for others!  It creates good karma!  For, in giving we receive!
2.  Take responsibility for what ALL OF US have created!  This involving not projecting wrongdoing and/or evil onto the other person/people/group/organizations and/or country!
3.  STOP BEING A CONSUMER of things!   Do with less!
4.  LET US PERFECT OURSELVES FIRST!
The Magic Dragon, the metallic kind...

160515 BLOK

160515 BLOK (Note, yesterday, 150515, many '5s')
CYCLING SUNDAYS:
Yesterday, up the mountain, at least to the first 'cumbre' (or 'top'), where there is a little community, and restaurant.  This is something like 1,500mts. ASL, or maybe 700 mts. above Monachil.  It's not far, in terms of distance, but the grade that makes it a 'work out,' something like an average of 15%.
I departed at 1145, got only one kilometer, when the thought struck me that I hadn't closed the front door (to Sonia's house where I now live).  So, back I went, to discover I had closed it, but not locked it.
Now, returning the church carillon announced something, as it doesn't seem to be about time of day.  Note, I love the sounds these bells make, reminding me of living in Axixic, Mexico, the pueblo on Chapalo del Lago (one hour's drive south of Guadalajara).
Up I cranked with more 'peso' (weight) than one week ago, Domingo.  Always more, always longer to gain endurance!
About 60% of the way up an older man (gray bardo) passed me, inquiring, in English, the usual.  We exchanged the required, to find out he'd lived in Washington State (U.S.A.).  We managed through a herd of goats (cabras), me informing him (in Spanish no less) how he could buy goat cheese (queso de cabra) from local cheese maker, Javier (who Cesar introduced me to).
I passed him, he passed me, then the last time I passed him, I never saw him again.  He, with electric-assisted bicycle, was obviously an older guy new at this, as he was wearing a large backpack (a 'no-no').  I was hoping he'd make it to the top, because I wanted to discuss starting an 'Older-Cycling Sunday's' Groupa.  A group that would meet and cycle somewhere every Domingo -- something I've done living in other countries, like China.
The last 1 kilometer of this highway (to the first cumbre), is very steep, maybe 25%, but I made it without stopping.
Note, it's always the first and last part of the highway going up to some 'top,' that are the steepest parts.  I don't know why, except I surmise the human surveyors, overly ambitious in the beginning, under ambitious in the middle, leave themselves with a short distance (nee steeper grade) to get to the 'top.'
At this 'top,' or 'pass' there are picnic tables, a place where families drive up to, park, set up the food-drink, and play badminton with their children.
I set up across the road on two rock benches.  First, because of sweaty from the exertion, I added another layer of clothing.  I chided myself for forgetting my rain jacket, but I've learned that at my forgetful age, I always tend to forget something, like my Chinese spoon (chucara).  Like, not locking the front door before departing.  I have many faults, and one of them, I've never seemed to overcome is a lack of patience, thus rushing at the last to depart -- nee forgetting something.  Thus, the lyrics from a song:  'Slow down, we've got to make the morning last, feeling groovy!' 
It was chilly at the 'top;' partly cloudy.  It's only the beginning of Spring at this latitude (37 degrees north) and elevation, something like 1,500mts.  The buds are just coming out on the deciduous trees.
I sat on the rock bench and I ate my bocadillo (sandwich) de queso de cabra, and other 'victuals' (word acquired from reading DON QUIXOTE).  Having forgotten to bring my Chinese spoon, I had to suck the yoghurt out of the small container.  I like yoghurt thicker, but soupier made this task easier.  Then using the flexible lid, I scooped out the last, getting it all over my hands. Ah, we always find a way when challenged. 
After a time for digestion (note, when older must wait to digest food before exertion) I packed up and went further, past the restaurante and 'Camping' facility.  Beyond it the hills open out into a 'plateau' area with interesting rock outcroppings and orchards (huetas).  Note, see fotos. at www.cyclingpeace.org/gallery/
I pushed 'Senor Fetes' out to a ledge where the vista offered a view of the reservoir (near the little pueblo of Pinas Genil), and highway A-395, going up to the ski resort (3K mts. ASL).
Hankering for something sweet to eat (postres) I headed back down now about 1430 hours (2:30P.M.)  First, however, I slowed to check out the restaurante at the top, but it was crowded, and I'm not a fan of crowds.  Plus, I remembered the torte de zanahoria at Faisal's place, a restaurant, just above Monachil proper.  Cesar had introduced me to Faisal, a waiter at this restaurante (name?) one day when we were hiking back.
The ride up had taken 1:45 minutes, which surprised me hauling more weight.  The previous Sunday, it had taken something like 2:00 hours with less weight.  I'm getting stronger!
On the way down I stopped several times to take fotographs.  One vista, an orchard on the side of a distant hill, caught my attention.   There is something about rural scenes that affect me emotionally.  Looking at this vista of the orchard made me feel good, like I belonged there!
Down further I was overtaken by a young man, loaded, so I knew he was touring, not training for a race.  Not the usual spandexed young men, racing past, obviously for the Tour de Espana.  We exchanged enough to ask him to stop for a moment, as I wanted more information.  Turned out he's from Romania, where I've thought of cycling.   His English educated me to several things:  'The Balkins,' Romania in particular, and cycling in both Morocco and Portugal.   He invited me to his city (Sibiu) in Romania, adding that people friendly in Romania.  I've heard otherwise, as Romania is Transylvania and the land of the             .  He recommended, that I have many pens and/or crayons with me, as this is what the children ask for in Morocco.  Just having been in Portugal, he recommended cycling there.  This kind of information the best, as comes from cyclist's experience, and not travel books or sites.  I took two fotos. or him, plus giving him two of our stickers (for bici.s):  BURN FAT!  NOT GASOLINA!
His name, Daniel Gabor, but guess what?  'Daniel' is the family name, and 'Gabor' his given name!   Interesting, how things differ around the world!
Now, guess why I had the thought about the open door when just departing four hours hence, had turned around, and delayed my departure going up?  It was so I would 'sync up' and meet this guy later.  There are no 'accidents' in my life!  Trust me!
H.
Monachil, Granada, Espana

140516 BLOK

140516 BLOK
A day in Granada proper with new friend Cesar Canavaras Bravo…
Yesterday, what a unusually perfect day in which you, not only are productive, but make discoveries thanks to new friend-guide, Cesar Canavaras.  A respite back in Monachile was included, ending up with a motion picture projected on a screen at the Universidad de Granada.  I hadn't watched a movie in a dark room with strangers, much less one about the Japanese 'Rape of Nanjing,' in so many years.  Talk about irony, as Xutan and I had cycled through Nanjing, on the way to Shanghai in 2007.  Wow!  What a day, living not just existing, but of learning via all that life is filled with, like cycling in the rain on slippery tile sidewalks.  Note, Cesar, who I diligently followed, alternates between street and sidewalk, not pausing for red traffic lights.  You learn by doing!
Up at 0600, I didn't return to that bed until 19 hours later  A day filled with so much of what keeps me 'young!'
I was to be at Cesar's, a Tiger Wood's drive up the pike, at 0845.  Of course, I was early, and had to wait at his gate.  But, I'd rather be early as it 'gets the worm!'  My 'worm' that morning the latest sales from Carrefour, the French version of Walmart.
We loaded our bicycles into his Nissan van, and then drove down to Granada proper.  This is his plan from experience, combining driving, parking on the outskirts, and then cycling.  Driving then parking in Centro, about as challenging as getting a rich man through the eye of a needle.  Cesar parked in a row of spaces near a sports complex on the bank of the Rio Genil. We unloaded, packed and were on our way, early morning, gloomy from the rain, which was light, but never the less!
Additionally, with my new street tires, I discovered that riding on wet-tile sidewalks slippery.  Several times, I had to slow down, and then crank madly after Cesar to catch up (he's younger, stronger and faster).  Cesar would give Edgar Lujan, my cycling partner in Boldivia, a good race! 
I remember locking our bicycles across the street from the hospital, where Cesar, had a doctor's appointment.  Cesar had gone when a motor vehicle driving through a puddle, splashed water to douse my socks and shoes.  Such is the nature of being 'out there,' experiencing such, and sometimes unpleasant.  But, can we have the 'pleasant' without the 'unpleasant?'
While Cesar was visiting his doctor I went to their Cafeteria, where I partook of coffee and a croissant (the pleasant).   Good to know, as their fare costing less than a regular Cafe.  I think a cuppa and a croissant cost something like 3.50E or $4U.S.
Next, we went on to Spanish Immigration office to see about me getting a tax ID #, so I might open a bank account as a non-resident!  The building for such, 'Extranjeros,' (foreigners) was way on the other side of town, and took, maybe twenty minutes of some fast cranking to keep Cesar's schedule (we had much to do). Had I needed to find this location on my own, God knows how long that would have taken. 
Note, negotiating the city of Granada, is not easy driving a motor vehicle or riding a bicycle!  Why?  Too many one-way streets that just end, and going every which way.  Worse, most without name identification.  You just have to know how to get there (with experience). 
I have paper maps to help, but still daunting, and trust me, maybe my only talent, is the ability to find things.  How else can you survive cycling the world, arriving in cities in foreign countries the first time?
Inside the Extranjero building, was the usual metal detector and conveyor scanning of hand bags, backpacks, etc.  But, of course, Cesar and I carry no weapons or plan to blow up any government buildings, so we were admitted. 
The information duly received was not the cheeriest!  First of all, after being given forms to fill out, the news I have to return on the 25th, in 12 days for an interview (to see if I can be trusted).  Once approved it takes something like THREE MONTHS to get a #. Typical of bureaucracies, slow as molasses in January (July in the Southern Hemisphere).  I mean why does it take so long to issue a simple #?
Secondly, we shift to another room for an inquiry with a young 'official' about obtaining a residence visa.  This guy, protected by a desk, had three 'trainees' with him in addition.  No slack cut here!  The not-so cheery news is that I have to depart Spain return to Bolivia, and apply for a residence visa at the Spanish Embassy in La Paz.  Or, I suppose I could return to the U.S. and apply at the Spanish Embassy in Washington, D.C.  This, the 'Visa Game!'  But, through Cesar we're onto an Immigration attorney, who, when I pay him, might be able to 'grease the wheels!' Ah, hope springs eternal!  
No Government anywhere will accept the goodwill of an applicant just by filling out some forms.  You have to prove you're not a terrorist, or thief, or basically 'bad guy'  (Kubrick's 'prestoopnik').
Look what we've created in the world… a 'monster' reality!   We, all of us, have only ourselves to blame for this situation.  Nobody trusts anybody, including their mothers!  Why?  To answer this requires reading my BLOK at www.cyclingpeace.org!  'We have met the enemy and he is us!'
Cesar and I depart the eyrie energy of the mise en scene, and cycle back to Centro.  This to Banco Triobos, on the Gran Via de Colon (financial area), where Cesar has an account.   I had learned from Irit about Triobos, as the right bank because of it's ethical philosophy (headquarters, Triest, The Netherlands). Cesar, having a account there for ten years, wanted to introduce me to a teller, and get confirmation of what was needed.  She was pleasant, but confirmed the government taxi ID number requirement.
Then on to Cesar's favorite Cafe (at Plaza de La Trinidad), and a short break for 'refreshment;' a cuppa, and a chocolate croissant.  By now, it was raining pretty good beyond the ventana (window).
Back on our bicycles dodging 'peatones,' to go to where Cesar thought the printer he's used before would be able to handle my job.  We're producing a new cycling postcard (500 of them to be printed). I needed to know about such, like how many 'air-oooo-doughs?'  Better known as 'Euros' the currency used here in Spain.  The man will call us. (Note, in fact he did with dispatch, and the 'tab' is 200E, subcontracting 4-color, or 100E for in-house work of less substance.  I will go for the lesser, after having seen a proof.)
Next, where to go to fulfill my shopping needs.  I needed a reading lamp.  But, it took three tallers (shops) before the one I purchased.  This a tiny place with a young attractive, nee helpful woman.   This an example of customer service and why it's a good idea.  I pointed to a model hanging on a display in her window (luckily this woman spoke some English).  She immediately procured a new one in a carton, opened it for me to examine.  When I was sure, the next thing was to get a 'globo' (bulb) to see what illumination the lamp produced.  She knew, opened the plastico that covered, screwed in the bulb, and 'bingo,' because of the demonstration, I knew it was what might work for me.  I would have purchased these products anyway, for what courtesy (customer service) she had offered.  Harkin all of those in Boldivia, who won't get off your ass to even ask, 'How may I help you?'  So, stay poor stupados!
Next Cesar introduced me to a food speciality shop, where I purchased unprocessed brown sugar and some lentil beans;  something else I can't remember.  The place, the aroma, was so inviting, I didn't want to depart. 
This kind of ambiance always reminds me of Christmas shopping in New York so many years ago.  I came upon a gift shop on Christopher Street in The Village.  The aroma inside, swept me away and into another world!  I still remember it, 45 years later!  Sense memory, in the case of 'Method Acting!'  This store in Granada, reminded me of it.
Then, on to an ATM (cajero automatico) para mas dinero.  We tried one, it didn't work, but Cesar knows where things are in Granada.
Onward to an appointment Cesar had made to see his friend suffering from cancer.  But, on the way, I was introduced to two other shops, the first, all about bicicletas. 
I always stop at any one of them to pass out my BURN GRASA!  NO GASOLINA! stickers. I took fotos. if interested at (www.cyclingpeace.org/gallery/  Here I discovered Brooks saddles for sale.  These are supposedly the best saddles (bicycle seats) in the world, made from leather from a company located in the U.K.  I've always wanted one, but expensive, something like $125U.S., and a bit much for a bicycle seat.  But, I'm going to get one eventually. They last forever, if you take care of them (oil, etc.).  The downside, it takes several months of riding kilometers, for the stiff leather to conform to your ass!  In the meantime, you suffer as somewhat uncomfortable.
Next, an eco-food store, one that sells the healthy food items that I tend to purchase, if I can find, like tahini. There was a fig loaf, walnuts, and some dark-healthy-looking bread.  It all added up to a 'healthy' 25E / $30 U.S.
I'll certainly be returning to any and all of these stores if I can find them (without Cesar).
Finally, to Cesar's meeting, he leaving me at the Plaza del Campo Principe in the Jewish district.  It was 1145 when he departed saying it shouldn't be gone  but 30 minutos.   But I know people always under estimate when it comes to time and it ended up being 1:15 minutos. 
I waited in the rain, doing what I could to stay warm.  I cycled around the area, re-installed my new frame pack purchased at Decathon (a week before).  I had a the time, the opportunity, to observe Granada street life.  There were two homeless men sitting on flattened cardboard boxes having nothing to do.  This juxtaposed with workers who rush around like there's no tomorrow.  In between, many tourists, as this area as not far from the Alhambra (just up the hill).  I took fotos., one a statue with Jesus hung on the Cross.  He was a jew.  I also needed a banos, and considered taking a piss near Jesus, but decided not a good thing to do.  I have learned from someone in Boldivia, a friend, that to stop the urge, rub the back of your calves.  It seemed to work!
Cesar showed up at 1315, with another friend, a woman named Antonia.  We decided to have lunch (almuerzo) nearby, as a string of restaurants on the south side of the plaza.  But, Antonia knew of better on the corner across the street.  Thank God for her, because this meal turned out to be very special.  The name of the restaurante is El Trasgu, featuring food from a Province in northern Spain.  First, there was hors d'oervers of some merit (tapas they call them), a Waldorf salad, then for a vegetarian, an OX BURGER!  I don't know why, as I wouldn't normally partaken of such, maybe it's the 'Year of the Ox,' as I not only shared one (with Cesar), but enjoyed it immensely (blood rare and soft).  Wow!  The meat of an Ox, a first for me. But, what a meal as some of the best restaurant food, I've eaten in  a long while.  We washed everything down with their special apple cider (only purchased by the bottle).  Note,this cider poured in a dramatic way, into glasses from afar, reminding me of how waiters pour tea in tourist restaurants in Lhasa, Tibet.   A perfect combination of food and company as far as I was concerned.  By then, however, it was time to move on, and in Cesar and my case, back to the van, to return to Monachil.  We were going to a movie later, but didn't want to hang around Granada, for four hours.  Antonia departed back to work teaching graphic arts at a college.
By 1500 hours the rain had abated, and we were fast back at and in the van. 
Ah, riding in a motor vehicle, such seduction, so easy, whizzing up hills while in comfort as to seat (saddle) and temperature.  No wonder, most of the people in the world, particularly couples with children, need one!  No doubt, motor vehicles and oil, the largest industries in the world, next to making weapons of course.   But, the bicycle industry growing because of both traffic and pollution!  BURN FAT!  NOT GASOLINE!
Back in Monachil for several hours, I thought to rest, but ended up accomplishing several tasks, shopping at the local food market for one.
I was to meet Cesar again at 2005, near Sonia's (where I live now.).  Sonia's house is near the first bridge (puente).  To meet, they go by bridges in Monachil, as there are three.  I live near the first, La Barbaria (Internet restaurante), adjacent the second bridge, and Cesar up near the third bridge.
Judy, one of Cesar's friends was joining up for this part of our adventurous day, to go to the movies -- the idea was to have her ride with us (Cesar had brought her one of his bicycles). 
Judy, an older woman (70), an artist, is originally from Toronto, Canada.  She came to Spain/Andalusia to paint, and never went back to Canada -- now 40 years in Spain.  She's a friend of my new friend, Irit.  Ah, the plot thickens!
On the way down into Granada it began raining heavily, and Judy began lamenting about riding.  Said she hadn't ridden a bicycle for years, and I thought to myself, not a good idea to start now because of the slippery tile sidewalks.  Ultimately, she took the bus and met us at the University of Granada, cinema. 
Cesar and I rode through the rain, but made it on time (2030 hours or 8:30P.M.).
The ticket price, 2E or $2.25U.S.  I was impressed with the theater, felt ah… Back in civilization again!  And the first time I'd watched a movie in a dark room with strangers, in a long time, maybe 20 years!  I can't remember the last time.
The subject of mopic in black/white… Was I ever surprised!  Produced in China about the 'Rape of Nanjing.' This when Japan invaded China in 1936.  They reeked havoc on poor Nanjing (at that time the Capitol of China)!  The Japanese military was unusually brutal, killing most, starving the rest, raping the women, throwing children out windows to their deaths.  The Chinese still hate them almost eighty years later!  I think they would like nothing better to invade Japan and get revenge.  And It's the reason older Chinese people have good feelings toward the U.S., (or did) as the U.S. military destroyed Japan during WWII.
I thought it ironic, that all the time I lived in China, five years, I never saw this film, nor any of the same subject, as there are more than one!  Additionally, Xutan, my Chinese 'son,' and I cycled through Nanjing on our way to Shanghai (2007).  I remember there are many monuments in Nanjing to the victims!
The film itself, as I remember, titled LIFE AND DEATH IN THE CITY!, I could only absorb visually, as the characters spoke Chinese, Japanese, with Spanish subtitles.   There were some German and American characters (having to do with the Red Cross), so a little of the dialogue was in English, but generally speaking I could only guess what the characters were saying.  Have you ever had that experience, watching a movie of various languages?
I think it was 2330 hours when, 'The End.'  We were somewhat 'shellshocked' with all the violence portrayed.  I remember Cesar telling me it was 'gut-wrenching!'  Judy asked me several questions about living in China, like why?
She ook a taxi to a rendezvous point on the Rio Genil.  Cesar and I cranked through the City, meeting here about the same time.  
We arrived back in Monachil at 12:30 a la manana, dropping Judy and me off at her flat (near the third puente).  I loaded and glided down, then up the steep hill to C/Ruisenor, and #3 (Sonia's and now my address).  Oh, was I glad to get back, after such a day… So many things to remember… I hope I have got them down correctly here!  It was a 19-hour day for me, unusual, but the kind of day that keeps you young (if it doesn't kill you). 
H.
Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety!

Saturday, May 14, 2016

American Pathology!

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Nuclear war coming!

Brazil, the legacy of the Portuguese. S.A., the legacy of the white man!

08b0516 BLOK

08b0516 BLOK
Gosh, on Monday, several days ago (word-processed) on the 11th), I set out to accomplish many tasks in Granada, proper (some 10KM down the hill).  I waited until the sun began to shine, as it heartened my on an otherwise blustery day.  Little did I know what I was getting into, weather wise.  But, 'We let nothing stop us!'
All went well, save for the wind and rain, but having so much experience riding a bicycle in MUCH WORSE weather I was well prepared.  People wonder why I carry so much weight ('peso' in Spanish) with me on 'Senor Fetes?'  Thus, having what I needed, I was never uncomfortable save for the time I spent eating my 'sack' lunch outside at Decathlon (a French outdoor store/chain).  But, since I had with me more clothing I simply added them and continued to enjoy my goat-cheese sandwich on whole wheat bread (in Spanish:  Bocacillo:  'queso de cabra en pan integral').  I also had an apple and yoghurt.
By the time I finished eating and loading 'Senor Fetes,' with a portable chair/table, tarp, frame bag and 'cartuche de gas' for camping stove, it has stopped raining. 
I live on a bicycle, the difference between me and tour cyclists that are on a trip away from their 'permanent' home.  My 'home,' is where I park 'Senor Fetes,' as I'm a true vagabondo!  Most can't fathom such… 'You live how, on a bicycle?'
I went on in search for 'Correos,' a post office, where I could mail Claudia's package to her friend Gabrielle Lubbers.  Claudia, my German-born friend living in Cochabamba, asked me to take and deliver gifts to her German-born friend (Gabrielle) who lives in Andalusia, about 60KM from Granada.  I was going to cycle there and deliver the package in person, but Gabrielle never answered my email enquiry, so I decided just to mail it to her.
So many people I know so deficient in communicating (Wally, Rosa's son in D.C. comes to mind!).  They lead local lives, and never go much beyond using their tele. (called a 'handy' in Germany). 
Most of my contacts (friends) live around the world, thus I'm an 'email person.'  Plus, I'm a professional English writer, and so easy for me to 'bang out,' pages in little time. 
Most people dread writing in any language, as never practiced. 
Marx was incorrect, it's not 'religion' that's the opiate of the masses, but 'talking (particularly in Latin countries)!  They would die if they couldn't combine eating and talking!  
Note, I prefer to eat alone, enjoying the food, not the worthless banter, or 'wa-wa,' as I call it.
So, off on 'Senor Fetes,' from my shopping at Decathlon, I found and circled the main Correos processing facility.  But, it turned out not to be for customers.  Thus, I continued on ending up at my favorite park, where I stopped to read DON QUIXOTE, and eat my 'postres de dulce,' a chocolate muffin. 
Yes, I have a craving for 'tortes' (sweets, particularly, bakery goods, or cakes).  One of my many deficiencies!
Where I was sitting, a couple happened by that I engaged, 'Por favor, uno pregunta, donde a Correos?'  And it turned out, my luck again, that the man, not only spoke English, but knew where a Correos was located, and not far from where we were in the Park!  Having a paper map of the City of Granada (I carry many, versus a GPS), he pointed it out near the RR station.
At the Correos, in a residential area, I managed to mail the package to Gabrielle.  I suppose I will never discover if she gets it or not… Que hacer?, or 'What to do?'  Part of the 'Four Agreements' from the Senor, is to 'Do the best we can!'  And my own, 'All we can do is try!'  Today, at La Barbaria, where I get on line I will send an email message to Claudia, informing her of my effort. 
Finding my way back to Monachil, where I live now, was no great challenge, as I spend time, when in a new city, cycling around learning about how to get from here to there.  And Granada, maybe the worse, for several reasons:  there are many one-way streets, that change names (unmarked).  Centro is a labyrinth, that you just have to learn the hard way, by going, asking, getting lost, and ultimately finding your way.  I spent two weeks doing this while living with Salva and Loreli.
By the time I got out of the craziness, the sun had appeared and warmer.  I stopped to reduce layers, as having to go up.   And of course, exertion, warms you up!
So, I cranked up on the side walk as slow with so much weigh (things purchased).  The highway up to Monachil, not all that far, but only two lanes and narrow, with much traffic.  Where is everyone driving in such a hurry?  Consuming robots they are, in my opinion, never stopping to think, 'What am I doing?'
I was back at Sonia's by 1900 hours (still light).  Now, I sit in my new camp (portable) chair, writing by the light of my headlamp.  The ceiling bulb burnt out, and having to repair later.
We let nothing stop us!
H.
P.S.  I forgot only one task, one item to purchase in Granada (contact lens solution), but I crank into Granada proper, at least once per week.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Japan, still living in the 19th C.

08a0516 BLOK

08a0516 BLOK
Look upon this old and blotched face,
A map of experience,
Battles won and lost,
100,000 miles,
30 countries cycled, on 'Senor Fetes,'
60,000,00 heart beats so far, and still...!
"The scars in a soldier's face and body are the stars that guide others to the port they're seeking!  Besides, it is not the hand but the understanding of man, that may said to write, and those years, that he is pleased to quarrel with, always improve the latter!" (Cervantes)
The body is the context
For the mind
As it tries to achieve consciousness!
The physical goes in the end,
A 'graduation' of sorts!
Grantland Rice wrote:
"When that one great scorer comes to mark against your name, it's not where you won or lost, but how you played the game!"
H.
P.S.  I am alive by some sort of miracle.  But, when I 'shed the body' for greater worlds, I want neither box in the ground, nor fire (as takes energy).  I desire to be laid naked on the ground in some propitious place, and an acorn placed in my navel.  Thus, a mighty oak might grow!  'Dust to dust,' nee springs life anew, in the great cycle of Duality!

080516 BLOK

080516 BLOK
Today, Sunday ('Domingo' in Esp.) was my day to cycle, better called CYCLING SUNDAYS!  I was not sure about going, and waited, as the weather has been ominous, not that it stops me, although lack of sun takes away my ambition (I am such a 'sun' person!).  But, I did set out at 1115 or there abouts as didn't check my wristwatch (on my right hand).  I did pump up my neumaticos (tires), and loaded for bear.
I went up and up what Cesar calls the 'Star Road' (I need to ask about the name?), the well-travelled, by cyclists as well, and hard-surfaced road as you might expect in Spain.  It curves back and forth and up and up on the north side of the alto vale, where I might have lived if Claudia had agreed (thanks to whatever, that I didn't, as things work out in our favor.).  This road, really a 'highway' (caraterra in Esp.) connects up to A-395, a larger, more travelled highway to the top of the mountain, the highest elevation in all of Spain.  This is why I live in the Sierra Nevada mountains/Andalusia.  There's a ski resort at the top.
We had done the same with Inaki, last Wednesday in Cesar's van, taking bicycles as quicker and easier because of a time factor. 
Today solo but always with James B. Feeney 'who' goes with me in the atoms of his old helmut.  With  'Senor Fetes' we make a 'team' that I converse with when I need.  Note, James B., my dearest friend from old ABC Sports days died too young, and Barbara, his wife, gave me his bicycle helmut!  I've worn all over the world, James B. still with me!
The weather held until near the top, where it was helpful at once, and then not so the next moment.  Plus, it got cold.  I stopped to add another layer (my rain jacket) and thicker gloves.  While I was stopped at the task, a fellow rider slowed to ask if I needed help (in Spanish).  I was able to tell him, 'no problema,' and he kept on cranking up.
Near the top, where there is a settlement of sorts (a restaurante, of course) it get's steeper, and with the wind it became a trifle harder than I like.  In fact, very near the very top, I was blown off, and had to push up the remaining 50mts.  Now, very cold, I didn't stay long, just for a few fotographs, the usual documentation for my 'Gallery' at www.cyclingpeace.org.  I've added a few herewith.
It was thereabouts two hours up, and only 30-minutes down.  On the way down I was passed by four young racers, all in the usual spandex uniform, with pulldown handle bars.  These guys, no doubt, training for the 'Tour de Espana' coming up in September.
I was happy to be down and warmed, running into my hostess, Sonia, who was returning as well with Nimba, a female dog she's 'dog-sitting' for a week. 
I must add a little bit about Nimba, as such a good 4-year old dog (short-haired pointer)!  She must be well treated and trained as never departs her blanket when outside.  She sleeps, never barking unless intruders at the door.  I suppose this bespeaks of Bolivia, where things, dogs and people, seem just the opposite (undeveloped) to me.
Anyway, I did the usual unloading and locking, and then went to the local mercado, so near as to be handy to Sonia's 'house.'  I needed pan (bread) to go with Sonia's 'tortilla de papas,' a local Andalusia 'dish' she had cooked and offered.  I purchased yoghurt as well, as had taken one of her's for breakfast (desayuno in Esp.).
Sonia had made a welcoming fire in her wood-burning stove, and we ate in front of it in the parlour.  I love a wood fire!
Sonia, and I are getting to know one another, 'landlady'-hostess (Spanish), and boarder (Gringo).  She, I'm guessing, is somewhere in her late thirties, a health practitioner, who has studied massage, Shiaktzu (sic), Acupuctura, and one other discipline I can't remember.  When I described my 'aching' (abused) liver, she knew, the verdura (vegetable), artichoke, is good for such. Thus, I knew she had studied, as few people in the world know this fact.  In fact, I hadn't until (What's her name in Cochabamba, told me?  Note, how quickly we forget people's names as soon as you move from their city.  But, it will come to me!)  How's that for an English sentence, Peter? 
Thereafter, I took a nap on Sonia's couch -- me, simultaneously with Nimba, but she on her cushioned blanket on the tile floor (people thoughtful of dogs here).  
I love the idea of siesta, and a short nap every afternoon, post almuerzo!  Although siesta, here in Andalusia, means all businesses/stores are closed in the afternoon (2-5P.M.).  This, unsets my normal schedule of work in the A.M. and shopping in the afternoon.  But, I shall adjust.  'When in Rome do as the Romans do!'
And now at 1800 hours / or 6P.M., when completing this 'blok,' it's darker and colder, as I have my window open in my upstairs dormitario (bedroom).
Que hacer?  What to do?
I'm now one week in Monachil, two weeks in Granada, and nearly one month in Spain!
Time marches on, until...
H.