2010: l'an où nous nous sommes connus

La fin de 2010 s'approche et je pense que c'est un beau moment pour remémorer ce que s'est passé dans les dernières douze mois. Ici, mon ange, tu deviens le plus important de tout. 2010 a été l'an où nous nous sommen connus, dans des circonstances bizarres: tu ne voulais pas venir à Francfort et je ne cherchais personne. Mais un document, qui tu ne voulais pas écrire et que je voulais contrôler, nous a mis dans le même chemin. Et voilà, Slovaquie est devenu subitement mon deuxième pays préféré.

Il me semble très difficile d'oublier ce que nous avons fait ensemble, soient-ils des heureux moments ou des tristes. Comment oublier notre deux visites à la piscine sous la chaleur de juillet, où tout est commencé? Comment oublier la excursion à la vallée du Rhin et ta peur sur le télésiège? Comment oublier la pluie en Venice? Comment oublier tes problèmes dans le travail? Comment oublier notre pétit-dejeneur à Bratislava? Comment oublier ta lourde neuve télévision? Comment oublier notre repas en Kabuki? Comment oublier le tact doux de tes mains?

Pour 2011, je peux te promettre, si tu veux, plus des expériences ensemble, pour ne les oublier jamais. À bientôt, mon ange slovaque.

Auf Deutsch

Ich wollte heute auf Deutsch hier schreiben aber ich weiss es nicht worüber. Ich habe diese Woche nicht gereist und ich habe nicht Besonders gemacht. Deshalb habe ich mich über Deutsch selbst, zu schreiben. Über Deutsch? Ja, und wie ich mit sie versuche, zu schaffen.

Erstens muss ich zugeben, dass ich nur 30 Minuten in deutsch Unterricht im letzten Monat gewesen sein. Daher ist es sehr schwer, zu verbessern (oder mindestens nicht viel zu vergessen). Aber ich bin nicht ganz schuldig: ich war immer unterwegs oder beschäftigt bei der Arbeit. Ich verspreche, öfter zu Unterricht von Januar ab zu gehen.

Nicht alle die Nachrichten über mein Deutschkenntnisse sind so negativ. Durch die letzten Wochen habe ich viel Deutsch wegen Lufthansa gelernt. Jetzt verstehe ich ohne Probleme den Wortschatz der Flughafen (zum Beispiel, wenn der Pilot sagt, dass wir in Stuttgart landen müssen, weil es kein Kerosin mehr gibt). Vielleicht nicht alle, weil ich noch Schwierigkeiten mit Austrian Airlines habe. Dasselbe passiert, glaube ich, mit dem Fernsehen: ich verstehe mehr und mehr, und jedes Mal brauche ich mich weniger bemühen (hauptsächlich mit Fussball).

Trotzdem eine neue Fremdsprache ist zu meinem Leben mit vieler Kraft angekommen. Ich muss herausfinden, wie beide zu ergänzen, ohne verrückt zu werden.

I tedeschi e la neve

Molto spesso mi lamento del comportamento dei tedeschi, dato che a volte mi sembra difficile di capire o irritante. I tedeschi possono davvero essere troppo orgogliosi ed arroganti, questo si sente nelle strade. Tuttavia, non tutti i miei commenti sui tedeschi devono essere negativi. Oggi vorrei scrivere sulla relazione tra i tedeschi e la neve, in confronto a quella degli spagnoli. Cominciamo...

Ogni volta che nevica in Spagna, il paese entra nel caos: molti macchine restando tutta la notte bloccate nelle autostrade, le scuole sono chiuse, gli ingorghi si quantificano in dozzine di chilometri, nessuno arriva al lavoro perché non può guidare la macchina sulle strade, si lanciano tonnellate di sale,... Nella TV, si vedono spagnoli furibondi con l'amministrazione, la quale sembra responsabile di tutto quello che gli è accaduto.

Nella Germania, però, nevica più spesso che in Spagna e raramente il paese finisce nel caos. Nelle strade, si lancia del sale per fare un sentiero e basta: non è preciso inondare la strada con sale e la neve può restare nella strada per una settimana. Le scuole non chiudono per la neve, tutte le macchine sono preste per guidare con neve e il traffico non diventa quasi mai un incubo. Nessuno nella TV incolpa all'amminstrazione per la neve.

Credo che questo esempio ci mostra due forme di farcela con le difficoltà: gli spagnoli sempre cercano un'altro che gli risolva tutto e a chi incolpare se non finisce come vogliono mentre i tedeschi fanno prima il proprio dovere. Un esempio molto chiaro: nella Germania è inconcepibile demandare ai carabineri di pulire la neve davanti al garage. Guardate dove stano la Germania e la Spagna come paesi nella crisi economica attuale.

In the Slovak mountains

Just one day after landing from Malta, I started another business trip (the last one of the year 2010), to Starý Smokovec. If you do not know where such a place is and you do not want to check GoogleMaps, let me tell you that it is a sky resort in the High Tatras mountains, close to the border between Slovakia and Poland, about 400 kilometres from Bratislava. As you can imagine, a trip in December to such a place is going to be full of snow: in these three days, I got an overdose of snow, believe me.Arriving to Starý Smokovec from Frankfurt is not that easy as it sounds. First, I had to fly to Vienna, where I had booked a taxi to take me to Bratislava. However, it started to snow heavily in Vienna and my flight was delayed almost one hour. After landing in Vienna and watching how the situation looked like (see picture below), I was wondering what the hell the pilot was thinking when taking us through such risks. Some minutes after landing, the airport was closed.Afterwards, I took a taxi to Bratislava. In normal conditions, the trip just takes 45 minutes but I did not have normal conditions. We needed more than an hour and I must admit that the road was more dangerous in Austria than in Slovakia (good for Slovaks!). The taxi driver was from Serbia and we spoke a little bit. I was more interested in talking about bastketball with him, but he was happy giving me details about his life: he is geologist but, obviously, cannot find any job in Vienna, so he is driving people from the aiport in order to pay the education of his children. Unfortunately, this is not the only case in Eastern Europe.

From Bratislava and together with other colleagues, we took a van to Starý Smokovec. The roads were totally snowy and driving there was quite challenging. However, our driver was extremely aggresive and fast, and during the six hours of our trip, we kept on overtaking cars and trucks. I was surprised by the amount of trucks we found in the highway; with such horrible weather conditions and from a large variety of countries.

After six hours and a horrible traffic jam in Zilina, we arrived at Starý Smokovec. I took the picture below, our hotel, the following morning, I think there is no need to add anything:Apparently, this region is now being targeted by Russian tourists, who look here for a more economical ski holidays, since prices are not comparable to those in the Alps. High Tatras is also famous for its bears, but, thanks Lord, in this time of the year they are sleeping. I really enjoyed my two days there and I do not regret at all the long trip I had to endure. Sometimes, it was funny thinking that I was the only Spaniard in 50 kilometres...

On our way back, we took a different highway, what allowed me to know half Slovakia. This is the list of the tows we passed by in the two ways: Trnava, Zilina, Ruzemberok, Poprad, Banská Bystrica and Nitra (twin town with Guadalajara, nice, isn't it?). Only Kosice and Presov were not in our route...

Neverending trip

In a previous post, I summarized what happened during my visit to Malta until the point when I was driven to the airport. I was quite short of time and, consequently, was a bit in a hurry, as you can imagine, while the driver was following strictly the speed limits, if you know what I mean.

However, just after arriving at the airport, I found out that my concerns were not founded at all: my flight has a four hours delay. Then, I decided to speak with staff of Air Malta in order to get a voucher for some refreshments and food, as I had four hours to enjoy them. From Air Malta they sent me to Lufthansa, where my conversitation was growing in tension until concluding with a premonition: "I will complain as soon as I land in Frankfurt". Let's say that the attitute of the Lufthansa staff member in front of me was certainly improvable. My favourite sentence among what he said is "You are flying with the lowest fare, so you should not complain at all.". By the way, after complaining to Lufthansa for this behaviour, I have got a formal apology and a reimbursement of 25 euros.
Once the way to get anything from the airlines was closed, I decided to spend the time shopping. As you can imagine, the airport is like the island itself: small. So, after thirty minutes I had examined every item of minimum interest to me in the four shops there. Then I decided to call for help to my workmates, to check whether I could be rellocated to any flight flying somewhere else before mine.

Alas, but my Blackberry was running out of batteries! And I did not have an adaptor to the English (and Maltese) plugs. So I bought one for six euros and when I go to the charging area of the airport in Malta, I discover that they have both plugs: English and Continental European. Six euros stupidly wasted! However, that was not the end of my misfortunes there. At my right, there was a man, without shoes and, believe me, I was fainting... Oh, my God, when he left because his laptop was fully charged it was like heaven for me (and specially for my nose).

After much waiting, much emails reading with the Blackberry and much everything, I had to run to the boarding gate, because I had got a refreshment voucher just fifteen minutes before! It meant that I had to drink my orange juice and then run to the boarding gate. The total delay when taking off from Malta was five hours: from an scheduled time at 15:20 to 20:35.

I was seated in the first rows and I soon realised that I was surrounded by Chinese young men. That was the only remarkable issue during the flying time, until we reached Germany and the pilot told us that the airport was closed in Frankfurt (due to the snow) and that we were waiting for an alternative (Köln, Stuttgart or Frankfurt-Hahn), but that we could not wait long, because we were running out of fuel. After an hour, the pilot finally informs us that we are landing in Stuttgart, what we did some minutes later, at approximately 22:50.

My idea was that somehow we were going to be taken into buses or into trains to Frankfurt, but, again, I was mistaken. Instead, we waited and waited and waited until the pilot told us that we had now fuel in our plane and that we were taking off again for Frankfurt! I could not believe it, but it was true, we were making my plane a trip of 150 kilometres, which could be shorter by bus or by train! So, we went up into the air again and flew around Frankfurt for a while until we finally landed at 1:30 in the morning, with a total delay of more than eight hours from the scheduled landing time.

As you see, something as easy as flying from Malta to Frankfurt can become really complicated indeed.

Inmundicia con aspecto humano

Quería escribir hoy sobre mis problemas en el aeropuerto de Malta, cuando mi vuelo sufrió un retraso de ocho horas por la nieve (incluyendo una escala en Stuttgart), y de mi viaje a Starý Smokovec, en las montañas del Alto Tatras en Eslovaquia, pero la huelga salvaje e impresentable de los controladores aéreos españoles se ha colado en mi blog, como en tantos otros. No es la primera vez que escribo sobre el tema y temo que no será la última.

La noticia de esta huelga me sorprendió en Viena, donde estaba pasando la noche esperando a mi vuelo del día siguiente por la mañana. Debo admitir que me costó tiempo asimilar lo que estaba pasando, pues apenas daba crédito a lo que decía el canal de información 24 horas de TVE: abandonar el puesto de trabajo me parece lo último que debe hacer un trabajador. Inmediatamente, la parte irracional e impulsiva de mi cerebro ideó una solución: llevarles a la torre de control a punta de pistola: o trabajo o cárcel (la realidad no ha andado muy lejana, ¿verdad?). Una vez que parece que todo ha pasado y que voy leyendo algunas declaraciones de controlodares, tratando de justificarse, me veo casi obligado a dedicar algunas reflexiones a esta casta de mierda (uff, espero que Blogger no me bloquee el blog por este calificativo algo escatológico, aunque merecido).

La primera es que todos, absolutamente todos, tenemos que asumir que el derecho de huelga no está siempre garantizado: hay trabajos que no pueden hacer huelga por su naturaleza e importancia para la sociedad. Ejemplos de estas profesiones son los médicos, bomberos, policías, soldados y, sí, controladores aéreos. Esto se debe tener claro cuando se decide por una opción profesional de esta lista. Si alguien no está dispuesto a renunciar a su derecho de huelga, puede considerar otras profesiones donde este derecho está plenamente garantizado: basurero, minero, obrero de la construcción o mensajero, entre otras muchas.

Segundo, no creo que trabajar 1600 horas a la semana con generosos descansos entre las jornadas y durante las mismas sea equiparable a condiciones de esclavitud. Quienes trabajan en régimen de esclavitud son, entre otros muchos en el mundo, desafortunadamente, los mineros chinos, los millones de mujeres que son obligadas a prostituirse o los empleados de multinacionales en países como Vietnam o Camboya. Semejante comparación sonroja a quien la escucha y descalifica a quien la hace. Haciendo un cálculo rápido, trabajar 1600 horas en un año, tomando cinco de vacaciones, supone 34 horas a la semana: una cifra muy inferior a las 40 horas que trabajamos el resto de españoles. Nuevamente, si estas condiciones le parecen a alguien inasumibles, pues simplemente se puede dedicar a otra profesión.

Tercero, los controladores aéreos no son los únicos trabajadores que tienen en sus manos la vida de otras personas, así que tampoco entiendo que ésta sea la razón de sus reclamaciones laborales. Los conductores de autobús, los policías o los maquinistas del AVE tampoco cuentan con mucho margen de error si se equivocan en su trabajo. Entiendo que semejante responsabilidad puede ser difícil de llevar mentalmente; aunque, por otra parte, también entiendo que quien no puede vivir con ello, es que no sirve para ese trabajo. Existen opciones en el mercado laboral de profesiones con mucha menor presión. A modo de ejemplo, en una cadena de montaje de una fábrica o en una caja de un supermercado no se toman decisiones de las que depende la vida de nadie, en la mayoría de los casos.

Cuarto, casi ningún país de nuestro entorno sufre estos problemas con sus controladores aéreos. Precisamente la semana pasada leía un artículo sobre los futuros controladores aéreos en Alemania y ninguno cuestionaba las condiciones laborales que conlleva esa profesión: es algo que se acepta y punto. Estados Unidos tuvo un problema similar y Ronald Reagan lo solucionó echando a la calle a todos los controladores y poniendo a militares en su lugar.

Quinto, duele ver a los representantes de su sindicato quejarse de las condiciones laborales y de la mala imagen que tienen en la sociedad (por cierto, todos somos responsables últimos de la imagen que los demás tienen de nosotros, imagen que construimos con nuestros actos y decisiones). Duele aún más con una tasa de desempleo del 20% en España. Duele aún más cuando a los funcionarios públicos les han rebajado el sueldo y cuando muchos otros trabajadores han aceptado rebajas laborales con tal de no perder su trabajo. Además, este sector debe ser el único en el que el sindicato de los trabajadores controla el número de plazas nuevas de controladores que se convocan en España; ¿se imagina alguien que los trabajadores de FASA Renault, por ejemplo, impusieran a la dirección de la compañía el número de trabajadores a contratar el año próximo? Pues eso.

Por último, ver estas imágenes de viajeros tirados en los aeropuertos españoles daña la imagen de nuestro país en el exterior, en una época turbulenta en la que esto es precisamente lo que menos conviene a nuestro país. Demuestra además una tremenda desconsideración por quienes no tienen la oportunidad de viajar muy a menudo (por motivos económicos o laborales) y un inmenso desapego por la realidad del país.

En definitiva, aplaudo la decisión del Gobierno, por una vez, de militarizar el control aéreo español, espero que esta decisión se siga manteniendo en el futuro y desearía que los controladores paguen por lo que han hecho, ya sea económicamente mediante indemnizaciones, con la pérdida de su empleo o con una larga temporada en la cárcel (militar, a ser posible).

¡¡¡Qué asco me dan!!!

Malta under the sun

These days, most of my colleagues were jealous of me since I had a business trip to Malta, implying that I was going to be under the sun at 20ºC and not under the German winter. Although the trip was rather short, I think I managed to get a comprehensive impression of what Malta can offer.

Firstly, landing there was not easy. I had the idea that Malta is quite a small island so I was getting concerned when I saw our plane flying over Maltese land without much intention to land: I was afraid we were going to land in the ocean! Luckily, nothing like this happened. At the airport, I was surprise to find a Boeing 747, since it seems to be too small for this kind of planes (anyway, as I am not an engineer...).

My hotel stayed close to the sea and also the main gate of La Valetta, Malta's capital. So I just walked five minutes uphill (I was also surprised by the fact that Malta is much more hilly than expected) and I was in front of the gate. There I understand the main nature of the island: La Valetta is really a fortress surrouned by the sea and by impressive city walls. It would be really difficult to siege the place with success. As a consequence, the city is quite small for a capital (around 7000 inhabitants, could it be that?), since there is no more space to build additional dwellings. By the way, the name of the city comes from the general of the Knights of Malta who defended the island against the Turks, back in the sixteenth century.

Malta is quite a religious country and it can be observed in the amount of churches in La Valetta and the devotion of the population. Everywhere there are evidences of the important role of religion in the life of the Maltese. As an example of this, I found this nice indulgence in a corner in a small street in Malta. Unfortunately, I do not think I did what was requested in order to gain them... One should not forget that Malta was home to a number of religious orders in the Middle Age. The influence of these orders is still rather strong in the island.

Malta was under British control until it gained its independence in 1964. There are a lot of traces of the British presence in the island. I would like to mention, among others, the mailboxes, the phoneboxes and the fact that they drive on the other side of the road. The surnames, however, are mainly of Italian or Spanish nature (quite familiar to me, anyway) and seem not to have inherited much from the British.My main purpose of the visit was business related, what means that I did not have much time for tourism. It meant that I was busy all Monday morning and then I rushed to the airport, because my plane was leaving at 15:20. I did not know it yet, but it was the beginning of an extraordinary adventure, which took me to Stuttgart airport and which brought me back home at 1:30 in the morning...

Un jour à Bratislava

Il y a quelques jours je suis allé à Bratislava pour une présentation dans la Banque Nationale Slovaque (Národná Banka Slovenska ou NBS). En total, je suis resté dans la Slovaquie environ 24 heures mais ce sont certes choses que je voudrais souligner.

D'abord, Bratislava n'a pas d'aérport international; il faut aller à Vienne et puis prendre un bus ou un taxi pour Bratislava. Ce sont seulement 6o kilomètres, mais un taxi autrichien normal coût 100 euros. Puis, mon conseil est de le prenoter avant de partir: on peut épagrner environ 30 euros.

Une fois arrivés à l'hôtel, l'endroit était plein des slovaques qui celebraient le jour de la chute du communisme (il y a quelques ans). Dans l'hôtel même, il y avait une soirée de gala et le hall était plein de gardes du corps, hommes importants et femmes jeunes avec petites robes. Mais les restaurantes autour du centre ville étaient vides, vraiment vides: personne n'était là. La raison pour ce lè reste un mystère.

Pour conclure, le siège du Národná Banka Slovenska se trouve dans un bâtiment neuf de verre. La vue panoramique de 28ème ètage est impresionnante. Néanmois, à côté de ce beau bâtiment, on trouve la Radio Slovaque: un bâtiment en forme de pyramide inversée qui nous montre le pire de l'architecture. Il est aussi affreux qui ne mérite pas une photo.

Et bon, ce que j'ai fait dans ma première fois à Bratislava. Cette semaine je vais de nouveau: que avrai-je à racconter après?

A rainy weekend in Paris

Last weekend, I went with my parents, by train, to Paris: our first opportunity to know the French capital, one of the top cities in Europe. The date (mid-November) was quite risky and we were not disappointed by the weather Paris had reserved for us: during one and a half day, it was raining cats and dogs, sometimes together with strong winds. An umbrella was broken and it was not until we bought a second one that it stopped raining. If we had not bought that umbrella, it could still be raining now! In despite of that (and of the just nice hotel room), Paris is always a nice place to visit.

As we were staying also on Monday, we decided to go upstairs the Eiffel Tower then. Unfortunately, the summit was closed due to some reparation works in the elevators, so I could not feel what I have watched in films like Superman II or A View to Kill. Anyhow, the second level is enough to give the visitor a broad perspective of Paris, from a monster of iron, built more than 100 years ago by a genious.

While visiting Arc du Triomphe, my mother insisted in going upstairs as well, so amidst rain and wind, we spent some time on top of it, with breathtaking views of Champs Elysées. There we had quite a strange experience the previous day, since people were entering shops like Louis Voutton or Toyota like crazy, apparently completely unawere of the goods' prices. This part of Paris is well-known in my family thanks to Tour de France and it was somehow special for the three of us to walk through places so many times watched on TV. Going back to Arc du Triomphe, it can also be considered as a Geography test, since it is really challenging placing all the battles won by Napoleon (some of them in Spain and even in Guadalajara): you can try it with the picture to the right.

Another remarkable site of Paris is Notre Dame. I was surprised that the entrance was free (not like in Sainte Chapelle), so we also went inside. The cathedral is quite dark inside, inviting everybody to think and pray and not to take many pictures. Sacre Coeur, in Montmatre, is a church with much more light, although it seems also too much oriented towards tourism. Notre Dame seems still to keep its real function: being a place of pray. Regarding the construction itself, it is one of the key gothic cathedrals in Europe (see picture below):I have mentioned some of the top tourist hubs in Paris, but Paris does not end there. Centre Pompidou, Louvre, Dôme des Invalides, Pont Alexander III, Montmatre, Saint Sulspice, Place des Vosgues,... are places which are worth a visit and which have the power to always open the visitor's mouth. The most relaxing time of our stay happened seated in a fountain in the Tuilleires, enjoying some minutes of sun, with a nice view of Quay d'Orsay. Below is the evidence of this moment:

¿Quién tiene realmente el poder?

Antes de escribir sobre mi anterior fin de semana y sobre mi excursión de 24 horas a Bratislava (al antiguo bloque comunista, achtung!), quería dejar una reflexión sobre las diferentes iniciativas que se han llevado a cabo internacionalmente para mitigar o prevenir los efectos de la actual crisis financiera.

Por una parte, se han impuesto medidas descomunales a algunos Estados para reducir su innegable deajuste presupuestario. Para implantar estas medidas no se ha podido perder tiempo y, de este modo, se han diseñado planes de ajuste draconianos en países como España, Irlanda, Grecia o Reino Unido: los mercados y el mundo no podían esperar. Estos ajustes recaen sobre la población de estos países que poco o nada ha tenido que ver con la crisis.

Por el contrario, los bancos, aquellos a los que todo el mundo ha señalado como origen y catalizadores de la crisis, ganan tiempo tras cada reunión del G20 para implantar medidas dirigidas a incrementar el control sobre ellos y a fortalecer sus balances. Para realizar estos ajustes siempre hay tiempo en el futuro, siempre se encuentra una razón por la que es mejor no hacerlo ahora.

Comparando estas dos diferentes varas de medir y viendo quién tiene que realizar ajustes "a la voz de ya", no puedo evitar preguntarme quién tiene realmente el poder en el mundo.

A city in decadence

As I already suggested, indirectly, in the last post, Venice is a city in decadence: the visitor can easily experience this after a short time in the city. Beyond the typical view all of us have (gondolas, canals, bridges, churches,...), it is crystal clear that the best years of the city are gone and it seems that it just moves slowly towards its end (do not forget that Venice is facing increasing problems with the high waters, much more often now than before).If there is something that Venice has, it is churches. Every square there, except two (according to my guide), has a church. But over all of them I must mention San Marco. It is definitively a different church, much influenced by byzantine architecture. For example, it is not crucifix-shaped and its walls and ceilings are full of colourful mosaics, two features that I had never seen in any other church before.

The best views from Piazza di San Marco are those from the island in front of it (San Giorgio), as you can see in the picture below.Venice is composed of several islands, the two main of them staying around the Canal Grande. But there are many others, being Murano probably the most remarkable. Murano is known for its glass factories. In my case, I was lucky when I arrived as to watch a demonstration of how glass is made and then I could access the exclusive part of the factory's shop, with masterpieces whose price was beyond 45.000 €. It was quite a remarkable experience, much like being in a museum.

Another remakable place to visit in Venice is the Jewish Ghetto. The word ghetto was actually taken from here. The island where the Jews lived in Venice was closed during the nights, so that nobody could leave or enter into it. For this reason, the highest buildings of Venice are to be found here, with six or seven floors (quite an interesting number for buildings from XVI century).

One of the places more crowded with tourists is the "Bridge of sights". Contrary to what many think, it has nothing to do with love. It was the bridge joining the court with the jail and the sighs where those coming from the people going into jail, when they saw Venice for the last time in a long time. It should not be forgotten that Venice built its power, among other sources, from its own "Black legend". But the Dux was not exercising an absolute power, but, on the contrary, his powers were rather limited, when compared with similar rulers in Europe, since there were a number of assemblies and boards governing the city. Regarding the picture below, Venice was quite good at sailing, but its maps were maybe not so accurate: the ocean you see is the Pacific Ocean, between California and China.Anyway, I do not want to bore you. Visiting Venice is a must for everybody, for its history, for its beauty and for everything.

Llegando a Venecia

El fin de semana pasado estuve por primera vez en Venecia. Realmente ha sido una visita fascinante: se puede apreciar la importancia de Venecia en épocas pasadas y se respira historia por todos sus poros y canales.Sin embargo, antes de pisar suelo italiano, vi en el aeropuerto de Fráncfort el nuevo Airbus A380, siendo remolcado por una de las pistas (ahora que está de actualidad). Realmente no se acaba de apreciar lo enorme que es el avión, pues no hay nada con que compararlo. Basta con mirar el tamaño de los motores para darse cuenta de que es realmente grande.La llegada a Venecia fue bastante plácida, más allá de ver cómo el recién estrenado puente de Calatrava es el único que está siendo reforzado... Resulta curioso a primera vista ver cómo todo el transporte público funciona con barcos (el equivalente a lo que en otras ciudades son los autobuses o los taxis).

Realmente por cosas como esta, Venecia es una ciudad diferente. En el siguiente post, me explayaré sobre el tema.

Der Wecker geht weiter

Meine liebe Tante Pili, heute sollte dein Wecker dich aufwachen, um den Artz zu besuchen, aber es klingelte nur in der Leere. Du warst schon gegangen, aber nicht zum Arzt.

Du warst immer sehr still und sprachst nicht so gern wie deine Schwester aber du solltest uns mindestens davor warnen. Alle von uns waren irgendwo (ich in Frankfurt, zum Beispiel) und niemand konnte erwarten, was heute passiert ist. Niemand konnte genau vor dir verabschieden. Ich hoffe, dass du zufrieden im Leben und sehr stolz auf uns warst.

Was mehr kann ich sagen? Nur dass, es war sehr nett dich in meinem Leben 32 Jahren zu haben. Ich werde dich vermissen, wie ich vermisse Onkel Ramiro. Wir alle werden um deine zwei Sohne und deinen Enkel kümmern.

Sag "hallo" aller in Himmel. Tschüss!!!!!

Bamberg again

Today I was in Bamberg, one of my favourites cities in Germany, again, after the visit I paid to my friend Timo two years ago (http://antsanch.blogspot.com/2009/02/something-more-than-basketball.html). I must admit that before buying my Lonely Planet guide of Germany all I knew about Bamberg was that it has a quite good basketball team (Brose Basket), in German terms.

Firstly, it was quite difficult to arrive to Bamberg due to the neverending roadworks we found in the highways there. Germany started to built its net of highways more than fifty years ago and it seems it has decided to renovate all of them at the same time. This trip has also been useful for me to maintain my idea that the lack of speed limits makes driving uselessly dangerous.

Bamberg has its own Little Venice, a group of houses built close to river Regnitz. I was extremely disappointed at first sight, but afterwards the impression was improving. This row of houses (see below) was built by fishermen in the Middle Age, when they prefered to stay outside the city walls, but closer to the river. Anyway, I expect the real Venice to be much more charming that the one in Bamberg (with due respect to Bamberg, of course).Bamberg's Town Hall was built in the Middle Age in an island in the river, just not to favour one of the two neighbourhoods living on both sides of the river. It is quite a remarkable building, with a strange feature: whose the hell is the leg through the wall?

Around the Town Hall there are a number of places when one can taste the local beer, called Rauchbier in German (something similar to "smokebear"). As I do not like beer, I cannot say much about it, but it seems to be quite soft and tasty.

Bamberg is also known as "Franconia's Rome", because it is built on seven hills, like the Italian capital. Of course, both cities are not comparable, but some of the hills in Bamberg are really remarkable.

In one of them, the cathedral dominates, together with the Bishop's Palace (special attention must also be paid to its rosegarden), the city centre. Inside the cathedral, a statue of a riding knight has become its symbol. Nobody knows who is this knight, but it seems that he holds a crown with the town itself over him, what may imply that he was a prince. But, on the other hand, he is not carrying any weapons and wearing the normal luxurious clothes of princes. The cathedral hosts as well the only Pope buried north of the Alps.

Finally, the former abbey of St.Michael's dominates the city centre and allows to get nice views of the city. Today it is a house for senior people, but it still keeps the air of an ancient abbey. In its church, the tomb of Saint Otto can be visited. I was surprised by the fact that there is a hole in the middle of the tomb (something similar to what magicians do sometimes in their shows). The ceilings of the church are decorated with a collection of medicinal plants, since it seems that this abbey was particularly active in this field of medicine.
All of this makes Bamberg one of my favourite cities in Germany. When compared with other similar towns like Heidelberg, it is not so crowded with tourists, what also adds a positive point to the Franconian town. But, as Heidelberg, it also has a US Facility (whatever it means).

Angeli come te

Molto spesso mi racconti quello che credi sugli angeli, come pensi che loro sono tra di noi, aiutandoci e prendendosi cura di noi. Io te ascolto con attenzione ma ci credere diventa molto difficile per un cervello così racionale come il mio. Comunque ogni giorno che sto con te, divento più convinto che gli angeli non sono tra di noi, ma che alcune persone veramente sembrano angeli, dato che sono molto gentili con noi. Perché dico questo? Non mi sentivo bene questo pomeriggio e tu mi hai invitato a un cioccolato al latte con tortina. Dopo ti sei preoccupata per me e mi hai invitato da te per prenderti cura di me. E tutto con un bel sorriso slovacco nella tua faccia. Davvero, oggi ho conosciuto un angelo e quest'angelo sei tu.

"Blitz" visit to Slovenia

Yesterday I made a very short trip (less than ten hours) to Slovenia, more specifically to Ljubljana (quite a difficult name for a city, isn't it?). Until then, all I knew about Slovenia was that they have a lot of basketball players and that they were the first (and the only one so far) ex-Yugoslavian republic in joining the European Union and, afterwards, the euro.

First thing that wondered me in the visit was to fly over the Alps. I could clearly see from the plane the valleys and how roads and villages are spread around them, without ever getting too high up in the mountains. When approaching the Alps I could even see the clouds stuck in the mountains, covering the valleys but not the peaks of the mountains (some of them with snow), like a carpet laid on the floor.

Once landed in the cosy airport of Ljubljana, the impression I got from Ljubljana is that it is quite small for being the capital city of a country. The city centre is quite nice, although it looked like too new and renovated for me in the fifteen minutes I spent there. I cannot say much more about tourist attractions, because, as previously said, I exactly had fifteen minutes to walk to the town hall (see picture below) and back to work. I have been told that Ljubljana is quite a nice town, but, believe me, I did not have the chance to walk around it for long.
All I could do was spending one hour in a traffic jam on the way to the aiport, with a final amount to pay of 71 euros. In this sense, the highway itself and the airport seemed to me to be quite small, again. With such a short stay, I am afraid that all I can say about Slovenia is that it is quite a small country, but very attractive in what I could watch is concerned. Next time, I will try to stay longer in Slovenia; promised!

Capacidad de autocrítica hispana

Uno de los errores puestos de manifiesto por la crisis financiera actual se refiere a la inadecuada supervisión de las entidades financieras (principalmente, de los bancos). Como consecuencia de una supervisión muy relajada y poco estricta con las arriesgadas apuestas de algunos bancos, algunos de ellos se situaron a un paso del colapso, amenazando con arrastrar en su caída a muchos más agentes económicos inocentes.

Muchos países, conscientes de este error, han reformado su arquitectura supervisora. Así, la otrora todopoderosa FSA británica ha sido dividida y pronto dejará de existir. En Holanda, un informe presentado en el Parlamento ha recomendado algunas modificaciones en la forma de realizar la supervisión. Bélgica ha presentado recientemente un nuevo esquema de entidades supervisoras.

Y, en España, ¿se ha hecho algo? Pues, sorprendentemente, no. Pese a que algunas cajas de ahorro han tenido que ser restructuradas (eufemismo de "entregadas a competidoras más solventes a cambio de dinero público") en el último segundo, nadie ha demostrado tener capacidad de autocrítica para intentar analizar qué se hizo mal en la supervisión bancaria en los últimos años y cómo evitar que estos errores se repitan en el futuro. Porque, a pesar de que el Banco de España viene presumiendo de sus "provisiones dinámicas", éstas no constituyen sino una medicina, que ayuda a afrontar las dificultades una vez que han aparecido, y que no debería ocultar el problema de fondo: unas prácticas supervisoras, como mínimo, cuestionables.

Durante años asistimos a una exuberante burbuja del crédito ligado a la burbuja inmobiliaria, con tasas de variación interanuales de dos dígitos. Todas las cajas de ahorro se embarcaron en una expansión descontrolada, abriendo oficinas por todo el territorio español. Se concedían hipotecas por el 110% del valor de la vivienda a personas con trabajo temporal y sin muchos indicios de ser económicamente solventes. Además, algunas cajas se metieron a fondo en arriesgadas aventuras como Valdeluz, Martinsa o el Aeropuerto de Ciudad Real.

Y, en este punto, lo que me pregunto yo es, mientras todo esto sucedía, ¿qué estaba haciendo el supervisor (esto es, el Banco de España? ¿Es que ninguno de sus inspectores pudo deducir que en algún momento estas prácticas podían acabar con la caja en cuestión? Y una vez que la cosa ya está hecha y no tiene solución, ¿cómo es posible que absolutamente nadie levante la voz para criticar al supervisor que, aparentemente, no ha supervisado tan bien como se le suponía? Se ha dicho mucho de las empresas inmobiliarias y de la burbuja que crearon, pero en cambio no se ha dicho nada de todas aquellas entidades financieras que concedieron créditos con demasiada alegría; créditos que ayudaron a inflar la burbuja inmobiliaria. ¿Es esta toda la capacidad de autocrítica de la que somos capaces en España?

What a sunny day in Mechelen

Last weekend, I paid a visit to my friends Saskia and Peter, and their twins, the cutest babies on Earth. They were born in December 2008 and they are really, really cute; believe me, I am not saying it with the passion of an uncle, je, je, je. The only problem I am starting to have with them is that their Dutch is by now much better than mine (reduced probably to no more than ten words).

As usual, I took the train to go there. Generally, it takes less than three hours to go from Frankfurt to Brussels and it is much more comfortable than going to the airport. From Brussels, I need an additional 20 minutes to reach Mechelen. The trip between Frankfurt and Cologne is probably one of my favourites, I think I could spend a whole day doing it: the train goes parallel to a highway and it goes so fast (around 300 km/h) that cars are overtaken without difficulty.

Once in Mechelen, I tried to cook Spanish tortillas for Saskia and Peter. They came this time with strange requirements: they wanted to put tomatoes, salt and pepper on it and I did my best to preserve this Spanish "delicatessen" but I was their guest so I had to give up in some points... Anyway, the final result was really a success and I felt very proud of my skills as tortilla-cook. I must admit that the previous try was such a disaster that it was very easy to improve.

On Sunday morning, it was sunny so we decided to go for a ride with the bycicles. First thing to note is that Belgium (Flanders to be more accurate) is extremely flat, not like Guadalajara. It was a real pleasure to cycle close to a canal for 10 kilometres without going up- or downhill for more than 5 metres (see picture below). On the other hand, that may be the reason by Belgium has not win a single Tour de France in the last 30 years. Anyway, it was absolutely delicious, probably one of my best experiences in the last year.
Lastly, I think I must partially explain myself. In my previous post, I stated that Belgium seemed to be a country in decadence, especially in towns, such as in Brussels. This time, though, I visited the nice part of it: the small villages full of peace and quality of life (for example, Boortmeerbeek). So, probably big towns are not so pleasant for the visitor, but definitively Belgium seems a nice place to live (when it is not raining, of course, je, je, je). I will seriously consider whether to buy a piece of land in Boortmeerbeek and build a house there...

Again in London (again)

For the second time in the last two weeks, I have spent a weekend in London, as, again, I had a working meeting there. This time I chose a hotel in South Kensington, my favourite area in London, and I was delighted by it; nothing to do with the "cave" I booked in my previous stay.
I must admit I did not do much during the weekend. It was wonderful just walking around London without a clear route. Under this approach, I was in Harrods, watching everything I cannot buy and drooling a little bit in their delicatessen shop; afterwards, I went to Buckingham Palace (where I came across the parade in the picture above) and Houses of Parliament, to check the state of politics at London. Needless to say, I had to pay my complimentary visit to the Waterstone bookshop in Trafalgar Square. Then, in the evening, I walked towards the British Museum, where I visited the mummies and other "British" treasures they have there.

On Sunday I was feeling even more relaxed and I decided to go to Hyde Park and walk around it. It was partially sunny (quite sunny for London standards) and I really enjoyed the walk. After some days of much work, I felt I just needed to go for a walk and switch off my brain for a while.The meeting on Monday was not remarkable in any aspect. I returned from London City Airport together with my work colleagues, but in two different planes. My flight with British Airways needed 15 minutes more than theirs with Lufthansa to reach Frankfurt; apparently, all fats are usually travelling British Airways, ja, ja, ja.

As you see, this has probably been my most relaxing weekend trip to London in quite a long time. But I must admit I would like to repeat it in the future.

Peur et irrationnalité

Dans mon travail ces jours j'ai découvert comment la peur peux boucher la capacité de penser, en nous devennant animaux irrationnels. Cette est une réaction normale de défense, qui apparait quand on ne peux pas accepter une erreur propre. Il semble vraiment incroyable les problèmes que certains personnes ont pour accepter qu'ils se sont trompés. À cause de cette negation de la realité, ils devent chercher coupables autour eux, sans gâcher une seconde à faire de la auto-critique. Dans cette recherche, des idées irrationnelles viennent dans leur tête, en donnant lieu à une spirale de stupides théories et conspirations, sans sens et qui ne servent que a montrer les misères morales de la personne. Parce que ceux que un homme (ou une femme) intelligent fait d'abord est reconnaître leurs erreurs et les limites de leur intellect. Il faut se rappeler souvent que seulement le pape est infaillible.

Blade Runner

Heute habe ich wiedermal Blade Runner gesehen und ich möchte darüber hier schreiben. Die Sciencefiction gefällt mir sehr gut und viele, ich zwischen sie, behaupten, dass Blade Runner ein Klassiker ist.

Blade Runner geht sich nicht nur um die Jagd von Replikanten. Meiner Meinung nach ist der Film eine dunkle Metapher über das Leben und den Tod. Die Replikanten werden von Menschen gemacht um sie mit harten Arbeiten zu helfen, aber sie entwickeln seine eigene Gefühle. Das stärkeste Gefühl bezieht sich auf die Angst vor dem Tod: Replikanten leben nur vier Jahren. Hier ist das grösste Angst geboren: der Tod kommt und niemand, ohne Rücksicht auf was er in seinem Leben gemacht hat, kann es vermeiden. Der Satz "alle diese Momenten werde in Zeit verlieren, wie Tränen im Regen" ist wirklich zerstörerich und unschlagbar.

Aber gibt es viel mehr in Film: die Frage wer ist menslicher: Replikanten oder Menchsen?; die Macht Tyrell Corporation hat fast wie Gott; die Suche nach sich selbst (ist Deckart ein Replikant, dessen Ziel ist Replikanten zu töten?), die Grenzen von Genetik, usw.Der Film war nicht so erfolgreich, wenn er veröffentlicht wurde, aber er ist zweifellos ein Meisterwerk des Kinos.

Learning in Cambridge

As already said in my previous post, I spent last week in Cambridge, attending a seminar on financial regulation and supervision. I felt I needed some additional training in this topic and I was looking forward to going to Cambridge, as I had heard it is quite a nice city. Thus, I found the perfect combination, didn't I?

This seminar also offered me the opportunity of living during four days in a college, more especifically in Clare College, one of the most important in Cambridge. Nevertheless, I must admit that my first impression when I saw my room was not very positive, since it was quite spartan: no telephone, no TV, no distractions, just a table, a chair and a lamp to study. It is clear that the aim of the one living in that room is studying. However, after two days I was totally used to it and felt quite comfortable there.Close to Clare College, one finds the King's College, with its impressive chapel (see picture above). This chapel has no columns inside and is much bigger than the main church in Cambridge (but it belongs to a college, don't forget). There are like 35 colleges in Cambridge: some of them cannot be visited, some of them can be freely visited and some others require a fee for visiting their instalations. In the case of King's College the fee amounts up to 5 pounds, an unreasonable price to me.

Literally Cambridge refers to a bridge over the river Cam. This river goes through the back of the most important colleges and it is possible to watch their gardens (so-called "backs) from boats similar to the Venetian gondolas. It is worth hiring one of these boats, although the price is, again, a bit abusive. The gardens in the backs of the colleges are also remarkable.

There are many other attractions in Cambridge, such as the "Mathematical Bridge", built without a curve element; the Fritzwilliam Museum or an strange clock which never gives the right time. All of them, together with the colleges and the atmosphere around the city, contribute to make Cambridge a place which is really worth a visit.

Again in London

I followed a seminar in Cambridge on financial regulation and supervision last week. That explains my silence in the blog and it also meant that after quite a long time (nine months) I was back to London, one of my favourite places on Earth.

It all started in a weird way. I landed in London City Airport for the first time and I must admit I was a bit scary when I saw water all around the plane: thanks Lord, our pilot could keep the situation under control. The airport is so small that normal planes (such as Airbus 320) cannot land there! Then, as there was a strike in the underground, I took a cab to King's Cross. I needed 45 minutes to reach the train station, as all the city was collapsing for the strike.

I was then shocked by the way the station is organized. In Germany, when you buy a ticket, even weeks in advance, you know the number of the platform where you will find the train. In King's Cross, everybody must stand and stare in front of the information panel until 15 minutes before departure... All I can say is that they are rather different approaches to the same problem.

After five days in Cambridge, which I will summarize later on, I came back on Friday to spend the weekend in London. Leaving aside the usual visits to bookshops (why on Earth I love them so much?) and the usual walks around the city centre, for the first time in my many visits to London, I went to Westminster Abbey. My most important remark after that refers to the huge amount of tombs it has: I would say it is more a cementery than a church. Anyway, I enjoyed a lot the poet's corner and was touched by the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior (it does not have this name, but I do not remember it, sorry).

What else? As a late Shakespeare fanatic, I went to the Shakespeare Globe to watch Henry IV, part I. First of all, the negative points: it was difficult for me to follow the story, as it was in medieval English and as English is not my mother tongue; secondly, Henry IV is not among the best of Shakespeare's plays; and lastly, the seats were terribly uncomfortable. But it was worth of it! The actors, the audience, the theatre itself (which is built according to the design of theatres at that time, see picture below), everything helped in building an enormous atmosphere as that found in Shakespeare's time. After some minutes of warm up, I started to understand most of the text! It is an experience I recommend for everybody spending a few days in London... and with a very good level of English.In spite of all I have explained in this post, I cannot help feeling that London is not as high in my priorities as it once was. To be honest, I think that, today 12th September, I would not consider living there... But in two weeks I am back and there will be a chance to change this impression.

24 horas en Berlín

Bueno, miento, han sido algo más de 24 horas, pero tampoco han llegado a 30. Por segunda vez esta semana, he realizado una visita relámpago a una capital europea; en esta ocasión, a Berlín. Mi amiga Julia se casa el año que viene y ha hecho una gran fiesta de cumpleaños para celebrar semejante acontecimiento.

La cosa, después de volar con Air Berlin desde Fráncfort y llegar con adelanto (¡!) empezó con una barbacoa, bajo una lluvia intermitente, en las pistas del antiguo aeropuerto de Tempelhof. Este aeropuerto se cerró el año pasado y fue protagonista del puente aéreo que los aliados organizaron tras la Segunda Guerra Mundial para proveer de comida y suministros a Berlín Oeste ante el bloqueo soviético de las comunicaciones por carretera. Vamos, que el sitio en cuestión tiene algo de historia a sus espaldas. La idea de dejar sus pistas como parque me parece genial y un ejemplo de cómo no ceder ante la especulación inmobiliaria.Para dormir, reservé una habitación en el hotel Sarotti Höfe, que está en el edificio de una antigua fábrica de chocolate. Las habitaciones son realmente curiosas y están decoradas con mucho gusto. La pena es que apenas he tenido tiempo de disfrutar de la habitación, pero es un hotel que recomendar para futuras visitas a la capital alemana.

Y hoy por la mañana he decidido darme un paseo por el centro de la ciudad. Ya conocía Berlín de una anterior visita, que hice con los compañeros de la Escuela de Idiomas bajo el granizo y la lluvia. Ciertamente hoy he disfrutado mucho más de la ciudad que entonces. Me ha encantado todo: la Gendermenmarkt con sus dos iglesias gemelas, el Nikolaiviertel, la isla de los museos, la torre de televisión de Alexanderplatz, el parlamento alemán, la puerta de Brandeburgo,... La verdad es que la lluvia deslució la anterior visita y ahora me he quedado con ganas de volver y verlo todo con más detenimiento.El ambiente que desprende como ciudad Berlín es bastante diferente al de Fráncfort. Aquí hay una cierta ostentación de lo que se tiene; esta es una ciudad capitalista, llena de bancos y donde el dinero manda. Por ejemplo, a la mínima ocasión se saca el Porsche descapotable a la calle para que lo vean todos. Berlín, por el contrario, es más "pasota" en este sentido y cuenta con un ambiente más bohemio. Esto también tiene su lado oscuro, porque no se puede vivir del aire ni ser artista toda la vida. Algunos alemanes me confirmaron esta idea (confesándome que en Berlín no hay más que funcionarios y bohemios), añadiendo que hacer carrera en Berlín es realmente complicado.

También he constatado cómo el gobierno alemán sigue enterrando dinero en mejorar la imagen de Berlín. La nueva estación de trenes es el último ejemplo, como pone de manifiesto la foto de abajo. Esta estación no tiene por el momento la fauna peculiar de la de Fráncfort. Hoy mientras esperaba al tranvía, he podido ver a varios yonquis, vagabundos y borrachos desperdigados por allí, personajes todos ellos por los que siento un gran desprecio.

24 horas en París

Por motivos de trabajo, he tenido que hacer un viaje relámpado de apenas 24 horas a París. Era la primera vez que visitaba la ciudad de la luz desde que estuve allí con Jen (véanse los post alrededor de febrero de 2008, creo), aunque he tenido una agenda tan apretada que apenas me ha dado tiempo de pensar en esto.

Y la cosa no empezó muy bien, pues el vuelo de ida desde Fráncfort acumuló un retraso de 20 minutos, al que hubo que añadir un tiempo precioso esperando un taxi en el aeropuerto (unos 45 minutos). Me resulta difícil creer que a las seis de la tarde no hubiera prácticamente taxis disponibles en el aeropuerto Charles de Gaulle, pero a veces la vida nos da este tipo de sorpresas. Como nuestra dicha no podía ser completa con subir a un taxi después de casi una hora de espera, el trayecto en taxi al hotel fue más largo de lo previsto por una serie de atascos que nos fuimos comiendo sucesivamente, a pesar de que el taxista conducía a 130 km/h en zonas donde se especificaba claramente que el límite era 90 km/h.

Menos mal que la cosa empezó a mejorar una vez instalados en el hotel (Meliá Alexander Boutique). Ya de noche fuimos a cenar a un restaurante coqueto en la Plaza de Víctor Hugo, aunque eso sí, a diez euros la cerveza. Luego, para rebajar la cena, fuimos dando un paseo hasta Trocadéro, desde donde hay una vista inmejorable de la Torre Eiffel, pasando a continuación por el Arco del Triunfo. Amén del monumento en sí, me maravilla la organización del tráfico en torno a él, pues parece una jungla donde confluyen nueve avenidas sin ningún semáforo pero sin embargo parece funcionar...
Hoy apenas hemos podido ver nada de la ciudad, pues hemos ido corriendo de una reunión a otra. Para comer, hemos ido a un sitio poco atractivo a simple vista, pero que ha resultado tener una comida exquisita en comparación con la de Fráncfort. He pedido un filete con huevo frito y patatas fritas y todo tenía un sabor diferente. Y el pan estaba para quitarse el sombrero, la verdad. La camarera también ha ayudado, pues era simpatiquísima y bastante guapa.

En el trayecto de vuelta al aeropuerto, hemos sufrido otra vez una sucesión de retenciones. Una vez allí, otra vez ha habido que encontrar nuestro sitio en la extraña (por no decir cosas peores) estructura de la terminal 1. Seguramente sea un concepto arquitectónico nuevo e innovador y medioambiental y lo que sea, pero yo, humildemente, no acabo de entender esta terminal.

En fin, pues estas han sido mis 24 horas parisinas. Espero poder escribir algo más la próxima vez que esté en París, previsiblemente en noviembre con mis padres.

Tra tre partite

Oggi volevo scrivere sulle due prime partite della Coppa del Mondo di Pallacanestro, che ha cominciato il weekend scorso nella Turchia. Questo campionato viene marcato dai quelli che hanno deciso di non giocare, come Nowitzky, Bryant, James, Gasol, Kirilenko, Siskauskas,...

In alcuni sports, il livello della Coppa del Mondo è spesso più basso che nel Campionato Europeo, e il pallacanestro è un bel esempio. Qua giocano paesi senza molta tradizione come Libano, Giordania o Costa d'Avorio, mentre che in Europa sempre si trovano squadre difficile da battere come Israele o Lettonia. Quindi, a volte le prime partite non sono molto interessanti, dato che le due squadre hanno un livello molto diverso.

Prima di iniziarsi il campionato, Grecia e Serbia ci hanno mostrato cosa succede quando mancano le minime regole di sportività, con una lotta veramente disgustosa. Il fatto che nessuno abbia mostrato molta vergogna dopo la lotta ci dice che hanno tutti dimenticati tempo fa i valori basici dello sport. I due sono squadre molto sporche e veramente desiderei che i due perdino sempre (sebbene, però, non sia possibile).In quello che riguarda il mio paese, Spagna non ha potuto vincere nella prima partita contro Francia, e questo sempre è un po' dispiacevole. Due giorni fa, non ho potuto guardare la partita contro Nuova Zelanda, ma sembra che fu molto più facile. Ed oggi abbiamo perso anche la partita contro Lituania, che aveva molte assenze. Ad ogni modo, questa squadra spagnola non mi da buone sensazioni: senza Gasol sembra che ci mancano il capitano e tutti, giocatori ed allenatore, sembrano senza testa. Quattro anni fa, abbiamo vinto la finale contro Grecia, ma veramente non credo che questa volta abbiamo molte possibilità di lottare per le medaglie.

Forse il mio zio ha ragione ed non è possibile fare molto con un allenatore italiano...

It depends

Sometimes, we tend to forget the relativity surrounding everything in our live, that is to say, that everythind depends on our point of view. For clearly understand what is happening (in whatever field of our lives), it is important to take a step backward and try to look at the topic with a different perspective: after all, it all depends on the point of view.

Yesterday my boss reminded me this, when he was mentioning that our Finnish colleague (from Lapland, in Northern Finland) was having real problems to get used to living in Frankfurt because he finds the city... too hot! Me as Spaniard have just the opposite problem.

Next post, I promise, will discuss the first days of the World Basketball Championship.

Yeux fermés

Chaque fois que je sois devant toi et je te regarde, nous fermons notres yeux. Puis je me isole du monde autour nous, je oublie tous, je me sens voler: je vis un rêve sans dormir. Quand sera la prochaine fois à fermer mes yeux et te trouver devant moi? Ces moments de plaisir me manquent.

En el país de los tábanos

Acabo de volver a Alemania después de dos semanas de vacaciones en España, repartidas entre Guadalajara (para resolver algunos "asuntillos") y Ablanque. Éste ha sido el motivo por el que no he escrito en el blog desde hace bastante tiempo.

Lo del título es porque después de cuatro meses en Alemania ya había olvidado que en España existen unos bichos llamados tábanos, parecidos aunque más peligrosos que los mosquitos. Después de poco más de una semana en Ablanque, he vuelto con las piernas y los brazos llenos de picotazos de tábanos; hasta tengo un picotazo en una nalga. Debe ser que mi sangre resulta muy dulce para estos bichos (normal, dado lo goloso que soy) o que mi sudor les atrae de algún modo irresistible. La verdad es que estos días he llegado a sentir miedo en algunos momentos, pues algunos tábanos parecen helicópteros de lo grandes que son.

En Ablanque he intentado (y casi conseguido) salir con la bicicleta cada día. Sin embargo, no he acabado muy contento con mis sensaciones. Hay que tener en cuenta que 25 kilómetros allí, rodeado de cuestas inmundas, son como 50 kilómetros en llano. Resulta también curioso cómo lo paso peor cuando voy más despacio. Me explico. Bajando he llegado a alcanzar los 50 km/h y no puedo decir que me haya cansado mucho. Pero subiendo han sido varias las veces en las que el corazón y los pulmones parecían explotar, cuando no pasaba de los 10 km/h. Juas, juas, juas.

Y poco más han dado de sí estas dos semanas. He estado con algunos de mis viejos amigos, a los que solo veo en Ablanque, y realmente lo he pasado muy bien con ellos, disfrutando mucho cada minuto que estaba con ellos (otros viejos amigos no me han hecho mucho caso, pero que les den, yo me quedo con los de verdad). Tampoco me ha dado tiempo a aburrirme ni me he sentido frustrado por no haber hecho ningún viaje estratosférico este año (el año pasado visité Islandia y Sudáfrica), porque ya me irá llegando la "marcha" y los viajes a partir de septiembre...

Lebenslauf

Lebenslauf ist das Wort auf Deutsch für "Curriculum Vitae" und wörtlich bedeutet etwas wie "camino de la vida" auf Spanisch. Das finde ich einen sehr schönen Ausdruck, um zu erzählen, was in unserem Leben passiert (nichts zu tun mit der Arbeit).

Manchmal in Leben erreichen wir ein Kreuz, ein Punkt wo eine Entscheidung treffen müsst, die uns viele Konsequenzen in der Zukunft bringen werden. Es ist möglich, dass wir dann nicht ganz voll die Wichtigkeit der Entscheidung bemerken, aber unsere Leben werden sicherlich davon beeinflusst. Trotzdem niemand im Voraus weisst, welche die beste Wahl ist. Darüber zu viel zu nachdenken hilft auch überhaupt nicht: nur wenn man sich entscheidet, entdeckt er, was ihn dort erwartet.

Das Leben gleicht einem Weg, durch den wir laufen müssen (ein Lebenslauf). Manche Menschen teilen ein Teil des Weges mit uns und damals (oft wegen der Konsequenzen von einige Entscheidungen) sich von uns erweitern. Aber das bedeutet nicht, dass sie nicht zurück zu unserem Weg kommen können. Es ist nicht möglich zurück in der Vergangenheit gehen und unseren Weg zu ändern, aber es ist möglich unsere Zukunft und der Weg vor uns, zu definieren als wir möchten.

Vor einem Jahr war ich (mit einer Geliebte) in eine dieser Entscheidungen. Jetzt sieht alles ganz anders: unseren Wege sind sich viel erweitert. Aber wir haben die Geräte, um unsere Wege wiedermal nahe zu kommen.

Back to the Romantic Rhine

I must admit that the Romantic Rhine, the area of Rhine between (approximately) the cities of Bingen and Boppard, is one of my favourite places in Germany, although the train journey from Frankfurt is very, very long and boring. Last Sunday it was my third time there and I enjoyed it as it were the first time (or even more).
Leaving aside Boppard and the amazing views from Gedeonseck and the Vierseenblicke (see picture above from Gedeonseck), I discoverd Bacharach in this trip. The Loreley is also a must, but after all and with all the due respect to German literature traditions, it is only a rock in the river.

Bacharach is a cute village, situated just in the narrow flat land between several hills and the river. It has a wonderful castle on top of the hill, which currenty is a youth hostel. There are a number of paths which allow the visitor to walk up- and downhill, always with beautiful views of the Rhine. On the way up, just close to the church of Bacharach, the ruins of an old chapel contribute to increase the "romantic" flavour of the landscape. Needless to say, all these paths are set among vineyards or across a deep forest.Hence, my recommendation is to visit the Romantic Rhine, if possible, and especially Bacharach and Boppard. Let's see if I can discover any other hidden place in my next visit to the Romantic Rhine (most likely, next year).