Como sabéis, llevo ya más de un año sin escribir en el blog y eso tiene un solo motivo. Podría decir que he estado muy liado trabajando o estudiando, que no he tenido nada de tiempo porque tenía relaciones sociales que atender o que he estado viajando durante todo este tiempo. Sin embargo, lo que en realidad me pasaba era que se fue mi inspiración.
Por suerte, mi inspiración ha vuelto en el último viaje que he realizado. Al principio del viaje seguía estancado, pero llegué a una ciudad interesantísima que reavivo mis ganas de escribir. Es una ciudad que se transforma, por el día parece una apacible ciudad donde sus ciudadanos trabajan y viven sin ningun sobresalto, sin embargo, de noche se convierte en un paraiso de donde nadie quiere escapar.
Una vez descrita la ciudad que me trajo la inspiración, deciros que lo primero que voy a contar son las historias atrasadas de Australia y demás viajes y despues de eso hablaré del viaje de interrail.
Empezaré con el viaje que hice a Margaret River, este fue un viaje que planeó Ivan con unas chicas Alemanas para el fin de semana del 19 marzo de 2011. El plan era ir con ellas de camping a visitar la zona del sur de Perth. Ellas se habían enterado de que iban a ir con un español, así que me pidieron que llevase al viaje algo de salsa para enseñarles a bailar. El viaje pintaba muy bien desde el principio.
Así que, con toda la ilusión del mundo, nos fuimos hacia Freemantle donde nos esperaban las dos chicas con un coche alquilado. Ellas conducían y, a la media hora de haber salido, ya nos habíamos perdido y tuvimos que preguntar el camino hacia el sitio que queríamos visitar. Entrados ya en la autopista y habiendo pasado dos horas y media desde que salímos de Freemantle, tuvimos un problema con las luces del coche, que ya era conveniente tenerlas encendidas. Al principio pensamos que nos habían dado un coche con las luces fundidas, pero tras examinarlo más a fondo, Ivan y yo, comprendimos que lo único que pasaba era que la chica que conducía no sabía encender las luces.
Ya despues de cinco horas de viaje, Margaret river esta a menos de 300 km de Perth, llegamos al camping donde teníamos que pasar el fin de semana. Estaba oscuro, así que tardamos el triple de lo normal en montar la tienda, dado que tampoco teníamos instrucciones, y dejamos de poner la protección para la lluvia. Una vez montada del todo, estabamos tan cansados que solo pensabamos en dormir. Más o menos, a la media hora de habernos metido en la tienda, las chicas nos dijeron que eso era muy incomodo y que preferían dormir en el coche, cosa estupida si vas a un camping, pero no dijimos nada porque nos dejaron el doble de espacio para dormir.
El sábado nos despertamos porque empezó a llover, así que nos apresuramos a poner la capa impermeable para volver a dormir pero, como eran las 5 de la mañana y las chicas querían ver el amanecer, nos despertamos todos e intentamos ver el amanecer, cosa imposible a todas luces. Despues de estar todos preparados me dijeron que íbamos a la playa. Casi me da un soponcio al enterarme que me había levantado a las 5 de la mañana para ir a la playa, y cuando llegamos me dieron muchas ganas de ahogarlas a las dos, pero a esas alturas no sabía como eran ellas y no las ahogué.
Despues de un tiempo en la primera playa donde fuimos, las chicas nos dijeron de ir a otra playa que estaba a kilometro y medio de donde estábamos, así que nos fuimos hacia el coche. Por suerte, encontramos un sendero que nos llevaba a la otra playa y lo cogimos. Las chicas no hacían más que quejarse pero, al fin y al cabo, estábamos ahí para ver la naturaleza. A menos de medio camino encontramos un desvío que llevaba a unas rocas en la costa, donde encontramos unos cangrejos y, los hombres, nos quedamos a intentar coger alguno.
En la segunda playa, cuando nos estábamos bañando, las chicas nos dijeron que teníamos que irnos a buscar unos surfistas y, como el coche era suyo, nos pasamos media tarde buscandolos sin éxito. Esa tarde, volviendo al camping, donde debíamos estar a las 5 de la tarde, según decían las chicas, nos enteramos que había un festival de vino en Margaret, así que Ivan y yo estuvimos intentando convencerlas de ir. Ellas no querían ir porque no bebian y no querían mirarnos mientras bebíamos y, pese a decirles que un festival no se trata solo de beber vino, no quisieron ir. Debímos coger el coche e ir nosotros, nuestro primer error, pero al final nos quedamos en el camping.
Al menos, nos quedaban las clases de salsa, o eso pensaba yo. Pero al final fue imposible enseñarles a bailar salsa, lo poco que sabía, porque ellas no me dejaron ni tocar sus manos. Esa misma noche,después de cenar conocimos a unos surferos con los que estuvimos hablando, sobre todo Ivan y yo, a los que pregunté si podíamos ir con ellos a la playa, mi segundo error.
El domingo por la mañana nos levantamos a las 6 y media, porque los surfistas nos dijeron de salir del camping a las 7 y media, ese fue el último error. Para esa hora ya estábamos preparados, pero los surfistas tardaron hora y media más en llegar y, para colmo, nos dijeron que si queríamos ir con ellos tendríamos que ir en su coche. Ahí dije: “Basta...”
Como veo que la historia es larga, dejaré el final para la próxima entrada del blog. Y si alguna mujer se siente ofendida, sabed que no pienso que las mujeres conducen mal, solamente que las dos con las que fuimos no lo hacían bien.
As you know, I have been more than one year without writing in my blog and that has only one cause. I could say that I have been busy working or studying, that I have had no time because I had some social duties or that I have been travelling during this time. However, the only point is I had no inspiration.
Luckily, my inspiration has returned in the last trip I did. It was in a really interesting city where my artistic thoughts came back. This is a city which changes, during the day it seems a quiet city where its inhabitants work and live pacifically, however, at night it becomes to a paradise from where nobody wants to escape.
Once the city, which brought my inspiration back, has been described, I should say that I am going to tell the stories of Australia and other trips, and after that I will tell the Interail one.
The first tale I want to write is my trip to Margaret River. It was a journey planned by Ivan with two German girls for the weekend of the 19th of March of 2011. The plan was to visit the southern area of Western Australia sleeping in a camping. They just knew that a Spanish guy was going to that trip, so they asked me to bring some salsa music with me for teaching them how to dance. It seemed a good trip at the beggining.
So, full of excitement, we went to Freemantle where both girls were waiting us with a hired car. They drove and, more or less half an hour from our departure, we were completely lost and we had to ask the way to our destination. Once in the highway, we had a problem with the front lights of the cars, which were convinient to be on. First of all, we thought our car was damaged but, after examining it, Ivan and I,we understood that the only thing happening was that the girl who was driving did not know how to switch on the lights.
Finally, after 5 hours travelling (Margaret River is 300 km away from Perth), we arrived at the camping where we had to spend all the weekend. It was dark, so we lasted three times more than usual mounting the tent, because we did not have instructions either, and we also forget the rain pretection. When we finished, all we were thinking was to sleep, so we went into the tent and, around half an hour later, the girls decided that it was too unconfortable and the preferred to sleep in the car, a stupidity in a camping, but we said nothing because we had the double of space to sleep.
On saturday, we woke up because it started to rain, so we mounted fastly the impermeable sheet to go back inside and sleep. However, it was 5 a.m. and the girls wanted to see the sunrise and we all woke up and tried to see the dawn, an impossible thing by the way. When we were ready, I was told we were going to the beach. I almost fell dead when I realised that I just woke up at 5 a.m. to go to the beach and, when we arrive, I felt like wanting to kill them. However, I did not know how they really are and I calmed down.
After a while at the first beach we went, the girls told us to move 1.5 km to another beach. Fortunately, when we wer going to get in the car, we found a path to go to the other beach and we took it. The girls were complaining all the time, but we were there to visit the environment and not only for going to the beach. At half of our way, we found another path which took to some rocks in the coast, so we went there and we found some crabs and we tried to capture them.
At the second beach, when we were swimming, the girls told us they wanted to search some surfers and, as the car was theirs, we spent half of the afternoon looking for them with no success. That afternoon, going back to the camping, were we had to be at 5 p.m. as the girls said, we discovered that there was a wine festival in Margaret River, so Ivan and I tried to convince them to go there. They did not want to go because they thought that a wine festival is only for drinking wine and they do not drink. Even thought we tried to explain them that a wine festival is not only for drinking wine, but for enjoy. We should have catched the car and gone to the city, that was our first mistake, but we stayed at the camping.
At least we had the Salsa lessons to enjoy, or that was what I though. Finally was imposible teaching them how to dance, the few things I know, because the did not allow me to touch even their hands. That very same night, after dinner, we were talking with some surfers, specially Ivan and I, to who I asked if we could go with them to watch them, it was my second mistake.
On Sunday morning we woke up at 6.30 a.m. because the surfers told us to go at 7.30 a.m., that was our last mistake. At that time we were ready to go, however the surfers last one and a half hour in being ready and they told us to go with their car. It was when I said: “Enough...”.
I see that the story is too long, so I am going to finish it in the next entry of my blog. And, if any woman feel ofended, you should know that I do not think that women are bad drivers, only these two with who we were travelling.
Luckily, my inspiration has returned in the last trip I did. It was in a really interesting city where my artistic thoughts came back. This is a city which changes, during the day it seems a quiet city where its inhabitants work and live pacifically, however, at night it becomes to a paradise from where nobody wants to escape.
Once the city, which brought my inspiration back, has been described, I should say that I am going to tell the stories of Australia and other trips, and after that I will tell the Interail one.
The first tale I want to write is my trip to Margaret River. It was a journey planned by Ivan with two German girls for the weekend of the 19th of March of 2011. The plan was to visit the southern area of Western Australia sleeping in a camping. They just knew that a Spanish guy was going to that trip, so they asked me to bring some salsa music with me for teaching them how to dance. It seemed a good trip at the beggining.
So, full of excitement, we went to Freemantle where both girls were waiting us with a hired car. They drove and, more or less half an hour from our departure, we were completely lost and we had to ask the way to our destination. Once in the highway, we had a problem with the front lights of the cars, which were convinient to be on. First of all, we thought our car was damaged but, after examining it, Ivan and I,we understood that the only thing happening was that the girl who was driving did not know how to switch on the lights.
Finally, after 5 hours travelling (Margaret River is 300 km away from Perth), we arrived at the camping where we had to spend all the weekend. It was dark, so we lasted three times more than usual mounting the tent, because we did not have instructions either, and we also forget the rain pretection. When we finished, all we were thinking was to sleep, so we went into the tent and, around half an hour later, the girls decided that it was too unconfortable and the preferred to sleep in the car, a stupidity in a camping, but we said nothing because we had the double of space to sleep.
On saturday, we woke up because it started to rain, so we mounted fastly the impermeable sheet to go back inside and sleep. However, it was 5 a.m. and the girls wanted to see the sunrise and we all woke up and tried to see the dawn, an impossible thing by the way. When we were ready, I was told we were going to the beach. I almost fell dead when I realised that I just woke up at 5 a.m. to go to the beach and, when we arrive, I felt like wanting to kill them. However, I did not know how they really are and I calmed down.
After a while at the first beach we went, the girls told us to move 1.5 km to another beach. Fortunately, when we wer going to get in the car, we found a path to go to the other beach and we took it. The girls were complaining all the time, but we were there to visit the environment and not only for going to the beach. At half of our way, we found another path which took to some rocks in the coast, so we went there and we found some crabs and we tried to capture them.
At the second beach, when we were swimming, the girls told us they wanted to search some surfers and, as the car was theirs, we spent half of the afternoon looking for them with no success. That afternoon, going back to the camping, were we had to be at 5 p.m. as the girls said, we discovered that there was a wine festival in Margaret River, so Ivan and I tried to convince them to go there. They did not want to go because they thought that a wine festival is only for drinking wine and they do not drink. Even thought we tried to explain them that a wine festival is not only for drinking wine, but for enjoy. We should have catched the car and gone to the city, that was our first mistake, but we stayed at the camping.
At least we had the Salsa lessons to enjoy, or that was what I though. Finally was imposible teaching them how to dance, the few things I know, because the did not allow me to touch even their hands. That very same night, after dinner, we were talking with some surfers, specially Ivan and I, to who I asked if we could go with them to watch them, it was my second mistake.
On Sunday morning we woke up at 6.30 a.m. because the surfers told us to go at 7.30 a.m., that was our last mistake. At that time we were ready to go, however the surfers last one and a half hour in being ready and they told us to go with their car. It was when I said: “Enough...”.
I see that the story is too long, so I am going to finish it in the next entry of my blog. And, if any woman feel ofended, you should know that I do not think that women are bad drivers, only these two with who we were travelling.
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