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are standing still, with both feet inside the small circle drawn with chalk in the middle of a big football field. In the big stadium, the stands that around me are full of people. I cover large reflectors of light from incandescent, dazzle the eyes.
Every breath a cloud of hot air comes out of my mouth to dissolve in the chill of a winter night.
I seem to stand still, yet I see the stadium turn lentemante around me.
Among the crowd I can not recognize anyone, they explore the blurry silhouettes in the distance moving wildly. With my hands I cover my eyes from the light fastiosa, I try to see distant, to meet someone, but only in the midst of millions of people. The crowd massed in the stands seems to be delirium, you reach, screaming, whistling, shouting something but to scuarcia throat, 'I can not understand. I strive to catch a phrase, a sound, a signal, but the noise is deafening and I do not understand what they're trying to tell me. There are no friends, no enemies, just me and nobody else. I do a thousand questions, but in that noise, I get no response. I want to go from there, I want to run away, I want to run, run away, but I do not move, I can not.
not control the movements of my body, I do not have the strength, I do not have the courage. I would scream, I want my voice above the one of the people, so 'that it can hear but can not get it. When I'm about to give in to my destiny, magic, disappear like a soap bubble and that is, the more 'absolute silence.
There 's just no around me are all gone, nothing. I no longer 'afraid, I close my eyes and relax in silence. I do not need them, I do not need those people. I do not seek help 'cause I know that no one, I can' help.
Stop, think! Stop, think! Serves only to raise doubts. Now I am in silence, in the middle of that stage and I feel ready to play the game: The most 'important in my life where one distraction, a moment of weakness, a second too long it can' change the outcome for all. That 's the game against myself and I want to win, whatever the cost!

How many times in life we \u200b\u200bare forced to have to make important decisions? Decisions that can change our destiny, our dreams, our existence. Sometimes we think that alone will not succeed we would never do that and not 'the right time, and that the situation' too complicated. We are afraid, afraid of groped, fear of failure. We are afraid to suffer and to suffer, and so ', we refer you all tomorrow. We are looking for excuses, counsels, of wits and prayer, waiting for someone to give us the answer. Seek it everywhere around us, walking in the desert of the mind, alone in the storm of thoughts. Suffering, expect to hear in that noise and someone to tell us what 'the right thing to do, the perfect thing, which we never regret. We look that voice every day, every minute. The look in his words, in the eyes of the people, the handshakes, the streets, at work, everywhere. We look, we know that one day we will feel it and following it we would not 'need to decide. Someone will have 'done for us, the right thing at the right time. Pero 'time passes, runs quickly before our eyes and not feel scared at all, not a single word. We can cross oceans, climb mountains, down rivers, but will never be found. The answer 'within us, and just listening, I could hear. Someone calls it God, others destiny, soul, fate, luck, courage. I call it Love, love for ourselves. To love and 'the more proof of life 'difficult of all, to which we are subjected without warning and without knowing the rules. We are sucked into a vortex of emotions that draws us away helpless. We do not know where we will end, but 'we can not do is let go. But how do we love someone, if not first love ourselves? Where does all that energy to give to someone, if not the first we find within ourselves?

dreams like this, help me understand what I'm looking so 'desperately' in me and that I must never stop asking me what I want. What I really want? I know, deep down we all know, we just have to ask, every day, 'cause we're alone in the middle that stage and we, the only ones having a kick-off whistle.

These words come from my heart, in this difficult time of my trip. I'm planning my departure from Huatulco, a departure delayed many times, leaving me a break 'my heart in two, which will make me' suffer once again. Fara 'suffer someone else and this thing is killing me. I have tried so that voice, to tell me when was the right day, to give me a date, exact time, I waited to hear the right thing to say Goodbye ¨ ¨ · Do I have to say go!. I finally realized, this night, inside the stadium.
If I could tell everything, every fact, place, feeling, thought, shivering, crying ... If I could describe in full what they live, what I feel. Maybe someday I'll do ', perhaps picking up these lines, I will be able to' fill the memories I carry in your heart and remain there until this, will not cease 'beating.

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29/01/1910 21/01/1910 Puerto Angel - Mexico


I was sitting at the bar of the Dublin pub, now approaching the time of closing. The place was almost empty and I chatted with Rodrigo's music. I got up to leave and I opened my right arm to perform the salute spread throughout Central America with his right hand in a horizontal position, it gives the classic ° 5 °, then shakes his fist and clashes powerless against that of the companion.
and often 'the first impression, the one with open hands, to establish confidence between the two people, according to its strength. After the greeting, Rodrigo I call ', for the following day, to go on the boat Scott. Latter 'had, recently left the room and I wondered if I could be considered valid, a call made by a person who was not the owner of the boat, but accepted me without too much trouble.

The next morning I showed up at the pier in Santa Cruz at 10.30, as planned. While imposed on the catwalk that leads to the boats I looked around in hopes of meeting someone I knew and asked what was the boat Scott. I asked for information to a small gentleman who was wearing a white polo shirt with the symbol of the Master, tells me 'what was the space reserved for my friend's boat, but at the same time, I feel' that had left the port about ten minutes. Dejected and doubtful I walking back toward the square, looking for a taxi back home. I saw them arrive at a full speed 'on the dirt road and when stopped' and the cloud of powder dissolved in the air, starting 'small and slender silhouette of Rodrigo. She wore her long gray hair tied back in a ponytail in his right hand holding the mobile phone and a bottle of gatorade lemon. His face was of one who was awake for 30 seconds. Under the eyes still half closed and surrounded by dark circles, gave me 'his usual smile, and I hope' good morning. It was 10:40 and he knew to be late. Have Here there 'no Scott, I arrived at 10.25 and one guy told me that he had already' gone for ten minutes! ¨ said in a puzzled tone. Once you have downed half a bottle in one gulp of energy drink, looking out to sea, he said: ¨ How 'possible? Scott had told me at 10.30! Wait, now I think. ¨. Start 'to make a few phone calls, no one answered him, the last one was that good. I'm talking 'with Scott and convinced him to go back and get us. Let me explain 'that there had been a mistake with the time, Scott had told the Canadian friends to 9.30, but he and the rest of the crew at 10.30. The latter, when they arrived with a little 'to advance to the preparations, we were so hurry to leave for the guests do not wait any Americans. Honestly, I felt a little 'embarrassed to think that all those people should go back just for us, but they were a couple of jokes and the sympathy of Rodrigo to get back to my home. After about ten minutes and a cigarette, we saw the boat approach the entrance to the harbor. As he approached, it became more and more 'big, and when I found it before my eyes I realized that was not the big boat that I had imagined, but something more'. In front, on the large tinted windows, there were three large red letters, (G, S, D) to represent the company 'Scott was born, that organizes luxury · diving ¨. That is, as well as to offer the service of three instructors, equipment and guided dives in fact, allows customers to enjoy a full day on board the small yacht, served and revered food and drink at will. 'The boat' at least 20m long and has a kitchen, two double bedrooms, bathroom, living room complete with a 50-inch LCD TV, stereo, mini-bar, and many other small and perhaps unnecessary comforts' that only people with money can 'afford. The crew 'composed by Luca, the Italian boy, Tony, a Mexican born and 23 years, co-owner of the boat and head instructor. Finally, the mustachioed captain, to whom I can not remember the name, from the car, drives the boat with ease by rotating the large wheel of light wood.
Scott greeted me warmly and hurried 'presentations of his friends. They were a group of 7 people, 4 men and 3 women. Two of the boys were almost completely covered with colorful tattoos and one of them had both ear lobes pierced by those big pircing ring-shaped, inside which I could easily slip a little finger. After a visit inside the boat sat on one of the spacious and comfortable mattresses and seats in the bow, while takes off, admiring the majestic rock wall that ran along the coast to my right, which sprang from the idyllic and pristine beaches covered with soft white sand. We stopped in front of one of them and, while Luke and the others were preparing for the dive, I plunged in waters fresh and clear Pacific Ocean. I borrowed a pair of fins, snorkel and mask and headed for the rocks watching the sea floor. I spent 40 minutes to snorkel and I could not see getting tired of all that nature, all that lives!
Risaliti all on board enjoyed the great buffet and drink prepared by Rodrigo with a coca-cola fresh and all, courtesy of the house. Between a laugh, a dip at sea, a nap in the sun and long chats with a background of great music, fast and the time spent around 4 pm we headed home.
On the way back I spoke at length with Luke, who gave birth in me a great desire to try to dive. Cosi ', having negotiated a special price with Nata, who proves to' be very kind and helpful to me, Luke told me that we could try on Tuesday 'and to make the most' economical as possible, we would leave the beach without therefore having to use any boat. I left a DVD explaining the basic rules for the first dive and recommended watching him carefully. I greeted everyone, Scott repeatedly thanked for his hospitality ', made an appointment with Luke for Tuesday' morning and went home, excited and eager to try this for me is completely new, active 'sports.

Right now I'm in Puerto Angel, a small village near the beach in Zipolite, where I was last week. When I went by taxi to the beach hippie, I was enchanted by the peace and tranquility 'that gave me this small town with colorful houses facing the sea and so' I decided to come and spend a couple of days. I found shelter from the sun under a canopy of palm leaves, the beach and 'deserted, there are only small and I faded boats of fishermen. The sea and 'calm, no waves, I enjoy the silence, read, write and think ,........ alive!

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The crib of children Ponza



"Loved this branch of hazel! We could use it for building the crib"

are said Beppe (yes, our Chairman) and John, a significant fraction of the inhabitant, while in the woods of the valley Ponza to retrieve an abandoned chair, and, having said that, load it and then hang ... above the wash of the village! The idea is to set up a crib right there, because now that the sink has been restored and the backdrop for an ambient Nativity. A word of mouth and soon the young Giulia Rho, Carla Livy, Julius and Gabriel and Leonardo Mornati Reynaud, aggregate, and fitted with plywood tunnel markers and paints colorful characters who embody in their crib can not be found lacking, even in a seat!
The place of enchantment comes alive, comes alive, turns, becomes magical, like out of a fairy tale.
really good these budding designers!
It seems that their crib has won a prize, well! truly deserved!

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01/12/1910 Zicatela - Mexico




After the adventure afternoon on the rocks, which ended in the worst way, I bought a bit 'of gauze, disinfectant spray and a bandage. After the shower I start 'self-medication. At every red spray disinfectant that alcohol-based, bite the towel vigorously to resist burning and expected deadlines to continue. It took seven sprays to finish the work, accompanied by as many imprecations against myself. I bandaged my foot and I went a bit 'of toilet paper inside the sock to make more 'soft every step. As I walked in the main street I was spoiled for choice in deciding where to eat.
A sign standing by the roadside, I draw 'my attention. It was one of the many Italian restaurants that have been invaded, I think, throughout Mexico, but 'the path was lit by torches that went to the beach to entice them to enter. The atmosphere was very warm and inviting, the wooden tables were placed under a large terrace overlooking the sea, and down 5 steps, you could get to the beach where there were others.
I chose the last one left, a few meters from the water. I ordered as a first: a plate of homemade noodles to lobster and shrimp sauce and, second, a cut of tuna. It seemed to me strange to read a menu 'written in Italian and I was very dubious about the quality' of the kitchen. The Chilean wine that I asked was, but by mistake the kind and beautiful maid I need you 'a Trebbiano d'Abruzzo. When I get 'the plate of pasta, I was the' mouth water just to look at and smell it.
The lobster cut in half 'Garnish abundant, the cooking was perfect and the taste sublime. I went back with my mind in Italy, I heard the genuine taste of fresh, simple. When I get 'the tuna steak, topped by pure' potato, one of the best I've ever eaten, and salad, I was simply amazed. The meat looked like butter, melted in the mouth and was very tasty.
While listening to the music of the sea, caressed by the breeze of the evening, although I was enjoying those delicious nell'assaporare halfway around the world.
I already 'experienced many different cuisines in my life and in all places where I go, one of the things I like most, and' just to try typical dishes of the place.
and said that regardless of the fact that I ate very well in many foreign restaurants, I can say that for me, Italian food, is always the best in the world and this has helped me to dinner to remember.
To make things perfect and memorable, the atmosphere, the sound of the waves, to be so 'close to the sea, clean air, peace ', peace. It lacked only a beautiful and good girl to keep me company to finish the picture, but maybe there was, maybe not ....

fully satisfied with the wonderful dinner, I walked to the opposite side of the street, chasing a music that came from afar. When I joined, I had come to a bar near the beach, simply decorated with palm trees and a bar on the right side. The people danced barefoot on the sandy floor, the band's music was composed of 7 elements: singing, piano, acoustic guitar, trumpet, saxophone, percussion and harmonica. They played very well, it was clear now that many of them were real musicians and it was not a band improvised. I was to dance on one foot until late at night and met two or three very interesting characters.

The next morning I was to enjoy the beach until late afternoon. Zipolite and 'a public beach, but free in every sense! There are practically no checks of any kind, lacking even the lifeguards. E 'populated by nudists who are proud to show mom made them as ° ¨, street artists, homosexuals, rastaman ... There 's a bit of everything, but in the context' and 'very quiet and relaxing. Nearby is' Masunte, they told me to be very similar, one day the whole will be visiting.
Back in Huatulco, were now past the 22, went home, Efi to tell him about my adventures and to rest.

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Zicatela 11/01/1910 - 05/01/1910





well I had to take three taxi-collective to be able to get to this famous beach. For taxis are those routes that run more 'long urban areas, carrying passengers from one city to' the other for a price which is normally 'a little higher than that of a journey on a bus.

I left Sunday morning at 10.00 and in front of the bus station I went to the first taxi. By sheer luck the minute I arrived, we were approaching the three taxi teenage girls laughing and holding hands. Normally, the expectation that all of the places to be taxi There, where 'prolonged even more' than necessary, but in this case, we set off at once towards Puerto Escondido. About half 'way to get to Puerto, turning right at a big intersection and after a few minutes all went down in the city' of Pochutla. From there, another collective taxi to the small seaside town of Puerto Angel, and finally, the last direct Zicatela beach.
The small town of Zicatela, extends into the street parallel to the beach about 3 km long. To separate the beach from the single main street where you see a car passing every 15 minutes, the long strip of inns, restaurants, bars and cabins overlooking the sea, offering refreshments to the tourists. In the first
I stopped, I just 'read the price list hanging off the front desk to understand that it was within my reach. I continued, so 'to walk the sand, looking for something more' statement. I found it quickly. In a small posada by lilac facade, had been a free room on the first floor, costs 40% less than the previous one, private bathroom, fan and a luxury to that of the first was missing: the window of the room, one could admire the whole beach Just step on the little balcony with adjoining rooms close to smell the sea.
Put my things, I went immediately to walk on the beach and I did it in a northerly direction towards the large cliff that delimits the end. After a quick bath, it remained a few meters from the shore, due to high waves, but especially strong currents that sometimes carry away any human life, I decided to see beyond the 'rocks to be able to take some very nice photos.
Driven by curiosity 'to see what was behind the rocky mountain and even a bit' of unconsciousness, armed only with a bathing suit, flip flops and a camera between my teeth, I began my climb. Cominciaroro feet to sweat and quickly slip out of sandals anointed as soap. Come up with difficulty on top of a big rock, I found myself faced with a slanted wall about 2 feet high. I do not know exactly what hell I step 'in the head at the time, but I decided it groped more' stupid that you could do, and that means' Get off! I am a bit ashamed 'to tell, but in the end, and happened by now and perhaps one day, reading this, I'll be able' to do me a big laugh.
I sat on the top of the rock with his hands resting on your hips, I looked down and tried to find a place where you can land, then, without thinking twice, I dropped down. The landing was a disaster! Both my feet slipped from the slippers, I could not keep my balance and fell tumbling to the ground on the right side. After I insulted him alone for five minutes, I managed to get up and sit on the rock. The first thing I saw when I turned, was the shining spot of blood on the hot stone near my feet. Bleeding from his left foot, from 4 different points on the right leg, right arm from the elbow, hip and gave me a terrible evil. I analyzed the injuries, caught my breath and waited for the pain had diminished. A boy is facing 'the rock from which I had launched and I look' with a look of amazement and almost a bit 'scared, probably wondering how the heck I did to get there. His head disappear 'out of my sight before I could ask him for help. I found myself alone with the waves crashing at my feet, the large vultures blacks who flew with my circular triettorie head and the sun was beating fast and burnt the bleeding wounds. I felt stupid, really stupid .... But the best is yet to come: the problem 'was great to go back! I tried repeatedly to climb the rock from which I had thrown, but without success, he risks falling back. I did not have sufficient footings, the right hip was hurting and I felt my left foot burned as if you were walking on hot coals. The superficial wounds on his leg and arm, the bleeding stopped soon, but it swelled up and turned into pellets under the skin is scratched. I looked around, I did not know really how to go from there. No one could see me from the nearby beach, only in the distance I could see people walking on sand and do not know if I could do something to attract their attention. I started laughing, as my grandmother says, ¨ ¨ and not cry, when I vent, to think of a solution to avoid becoming dinner for those Hawks disturbing that I flew over his head.
abandoned the idea of \u200b\u200bclimbing the rock wall, I opted to try to pass on the outside. The thing that most 'was frightening, was the color of the stone, the gleaming black indicating that they were wet and slippery. I put the sandals in costume behind the camera between clenched teeth and, in small steps, I invented a path. For every move that I felt a sharp blade I came under the sole of his left foot and sweat was burning the other wounds. Very slowly and with great care it took me 10 minutes to be able to go through endless around the side of the rock, and when he finally rested his feet on the sand, I felt a great relief. I went immediately to bathe the wounds ¨ ¨ with sea water, thank God I had not done anything serious with that jump I could easily break an ankle or something 'else. As I was walking pain on the soles of the feet increased steadily. I cleaned up, trying to stay in equilibrium with the water to the knees, I grabbed him by the hand, how do you do to stretch the muscles, and what I saw, I did not like at all. In addition to a wound as big as a 100-lire coin, deep enough to be able to see the flesh white on the inside just below the big toe, there was a cut that ran through the sole of the foot in its center horizontally. It was not very deep, but it was what made me more 'evil of all, and having to walk on, certainly did not help.
I lay on my shorts in front of the posada, I lit a cigarette and began to laugh at myself. ¨ Well Matthew, I think the bullshit of the day you have it made, I think you can believe satisfied! · I thought while watching the sun hiding behind the ocean. The sea was rough and the waves clashed with each other and the ridges colored the sea of \u200b\u200bwhite. When the sun went away ', the anniversary of the above is about long boundary from the sky' ocean, formed 'a huge rainbow that covered the flat horizon. The lines of color were visible, but among them were mixed shades of bright colors that I had never seen before. I stayed to enjoy the show until the end when I got back and hobbled into the room, it was already dark.

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Mexico San Cristobal de Las Casas - Mexico 03/01/1910


The city 'San Cristobal I was really fascinated. It 'a city' of medium size, which extends into the bed of a valley surrounded by pine-covered highlands.

The cobbled streets one-way, low colorful houses, narrow sidewalks and churches from the Baroque facades where the sun does shine their colors, I did immediately return to my beloved Antigua, Guatemala. The Calle Real de Gauadalupe intersects with the end of Avenida 20 de Noviembre''and''the beginning of Avenida Hidalgo which bisects the city ', from north to south. They are largely pedestrian and crowd of people walking between the many bars, restaurants and clothing stores. This intersection is in the exact center of the city ', or main square in the tree with its large and bright white Palacio Municipal. On the north side of the square stands the great cathedral by sand-colored trim and red and white in front of which, every evening, is prepared by abitabti the nearby town of San Juan Chamula, a craft market.
At the end of Calle Guadalupe, east of City ', on top of the long staircase, stands the Church of Guadalupe, from her small square opposite the main entrance, you can' admire the panorama of the city '.

I found: the heat of Madrid and the neighborhoods of downtown, the colonial appearance and charm of Antigua and the Christmas atmosphere of my city 's hometown.
rusticity 'of a country of mountains blend perfectly with the lively and modern life of the people who populate them. All this sends peace 'and security, spicy aromas stimulate the appetite, he asked you back in time and charm envelops you in an embrace of a warm welcome. E 'populated by people from all over the world, many of whom are Italians who have supremacy in the restaurant business.

I've been to visit the village of San Juan Chamula about 10km outside San Cristobal.
I had been warned that they would not have been able to take pictures and that the people belonging to the Tzotzil ethnic group''were''very pleased and proud of their independence. Once in front the central square, we were attacked by a dozen children who offered to act as guards to our car, trying to sell small crafts, is proposed as tourist guides inside the church or simply begging. Frankly, I expected to find a more 'characterized by the culture indigenous, while I found only a bare fruit market and a few women dressed in traditional clothes. The only thing unique, and 'the''Temple of San Juan,''that is' the big church by the side of a dazzling white. Inside, there are neither 'benches, it' counters. You breathe a strong scent of incense and stepped on a carpet of pine needles covering the floor. In the side aisles, an exhibition of statues of saints leads up to the great altar surrounded by flowers and illuminated by the lights of the Nativity. People come to pray, but they do so in a very particular way: they sit on the floor, and lit hundreds of small white candles. Wetting the bottom with wax because 'no fall, have lined up to form the square on the floor on fire and pray until they are turned off. God as an offering to bring eggs, carbonated drinks and finished both races,'',''or the local liquor derived from sugar cane.

After the tour in the church, back in town 'and we went for supplies of fruits, vegetables and meat, the great Mercado Municipal just a few blocks from our house.
After dinner, made with roasted chicken and salad, (I was just tired of eating tacos), I decided to go to bed early so I could wake up, for once, at a reasonable hour and go well 'visit'' Cañon de Sumidero''the next morning.

Marcos takes me ' to the Pan-American state, where there are all the terminals of the means of transport. I said goodbye and I thanked my friend for him to meet in the evening for dinner and went on a taxi. We waited twenty minutes before leaving, having to reach the number of 4 passengers. I went down to 12km before reaching Tutxla Gutierrez and bought a ticket for the tour in Cañon de Sumidero. I was sitting in the second row of the small motor boat, which shares 'at full speed' along the River. Take the first right turn on those dark, deep waters up to 100m, the highlands that lined the shores, suddenly became very high in the Rocky Mountains, where their walls, the most 'high up to 1000m, came to sheer water: it seemed that the river restringesse and the sky became more and more 'small as we approached. The tour hard 'almost two hours, there were also short stops to take pictures and explanations from the man who was driving the boat. On the return trip, with aquiline vision of our captain, he also photographed two small crocodiles intent to rest on the muddy banks of the river that once disturbed by our arrival, went into hiding under the water.

The taxi driver who was carrying me in central Baghdad told me that there was not much to see, apart from the Cathedral and that if I was not there yet, I could not miss the zoo of the city ', one of the most' large throughout Latin America. I accepted the advice and going with the taxi to the city streets ', I could confirm that, indeed, was the same as any other big city' mexicana.
The particularity 'Tuxtla Zoo, which makes it unique,' and that 'solely and exclusively populated by wildlife. All animals, confined in large pens in a wood, come from the forests of the state of Chiapas. The fact of seeing animals in cages and 'one thing that always makes me sad,' cause as are properly cared for and has tried to maintain this habitat in the most 'can be similar to the natural, not' the right place for them and I believe that man has no right to keep them locked up.

The thrill of being able to see a Quetzal, in the jungle in the reserve of Biotope in Guatemala, after long waiting in the rain, and seeing it fly for only a few seconds between the trees to 20 feet high, and 'was much more 'strong find that to 15cm from one of those pieces, separated by a double-glazed. The same applies to the two small crocodiles that I had seen only an hour before, were very 'most charming than 4 meters long, locked up and intended to spend their lives in a tank. Not even the great black panther, succeeded 'to like.
paraded before a large window along the same 10m countless times, ignoring the vast space behind him, but with one idea in his head:''What the heck will be 'out of here so I could eat one of those strange machines that irritate me with their eyes flash all day?''.
species that I saw did not even know existed, I made a little culture on the fauna of Chiapas, but FIU also happy that the day the entry does not pay, I would have liked to contribute to the maintenance of that place, where animals are taken away from their freedom ', segregated and forced to make the life of a painting in a museum.
I think this is the last time in my life when I set foot in a zoo.

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San Cristobal de Las Casas, Mexico Huatulco-Mexico


Today ' the feast of the Epiphany, and finally a little 'Christmas spirit ¨ ° are able to find it. I accepted the invitation to come Marcos San Cristobal De Las Casas in the state of Chiapas. He 'came to see the two brothers, father, and to spend some' time with the third of his four children, the little 4 year old Mateo, who lives here with his mother.

I spent New Year's Eve at the home of Marcos and her children and a lot of friends: we did nothing special, but it was very intimate and fun.
In total we had 25, including children, we ate at a long table in the garden and then we had become a terrace on the small dance floor until the wee hours of the morning. With the fear that the two big trays of cooked meat arrrosto as stew and bought in a restaurant, pasta, beans, tortillias, potatoes and fruit, not enough to feed all the guests, I beg Marcos' to cook Italian meals · a ¨. The problem was that I had at my disposal simply seed oil, 1 kg of tomato sauce, a can of mushrooms in brine, onion, a bit 'of oregano and a pound of fusilli. I could be very creative, but the end result was appreciated and some even had an encore.
After the party I went to sleep while Marcos and some friends decided to continue until late afternoon the next day.
I was, therefore, the only physical and mental condition in order to drive and decided, well, you start the new year with a nice car trip around the Mexico. I would not have led to all the 560 km separating us from San Cristobal, but certainly for at least half 'of the journey, giving the opportunity' to recover Marcos a few hours of sleep.
Place the bags in the trunk, I still wonder how, given the number ', we got into the small Pegeout 7 206 Black, Marcos. I'm in the driving seat, Marcos next to me and among us, on top of a pillow placed between the gear lever and the hand brake, the small and beautiful Jaztiri, 9 years old. In the back seat, squeezed like sardines, the great-aunt, grandmother, Santiago, 11 year old brother Jaztiri and Claudia, a friend Marcos.
The two sisters, still very young in appearance and spirit, the night before were the two protagonists of the festival, bringing their fifty years with great ease and still showing a great desire to have fun.
After 2 hours of dangerous curves and unexpected bumps, often not reported, I constricting a sudden braking, near Salina Cruz so we put in the 'autopista called ¨ ¨, or highway. E 'consists of two main lanes, one in each direction, separated by reflectors that are illuminated by the headlights turn it into an endless runway. Almost completely devoid of curves and light, it would lead to the border between the state of Oaxaca and Chiapas that. The long boring straight and dropped after a few minutes, my passengers Mexicans into a deep sleep and I found myself alone at 2 am to drive in the middle of the desert mexicano, with 'only companion a CD of electronic music. We passed through an area called''La Ventosa''completely flat and dry, surrounded by expanses of sand and shrubs that sprout Pietroni. There, the wind speed reaches 'very high and its strength and' able to overturn a truck in motion, which happens quite frequently. I had to reduce considerably the speed 'to try to maintain this control of the car that was moving to the right as if he suddenly slipped on small plates ice; more dodging the branches that I crossed the street.
When I start 'the stretch range after the border, Marcos had slept for nearly four hours and feel' rested enough to take the lead. The thing I rise 'and I thought that I could rest for a while'.
I was wrong to let my aunt sgranchisse a little 'legs, I found myself sitting back, leaning over one half of the lower back, right arm pressed against the window and the left, necessarily, on the right leg of Claudia. I had no chance 'to see anything of the landscape around me, the journey becomes simply' in a long wait to get there.
Only when we arrived at Tuxtla, the capital, I was dazzled by the carpet of lights stretched out below us, which you could not see the end. Said goodbye and left the great-aunt and grandmother in a house on the outskirts of the city '. I start 'to make the day, and I assured by Marcos that will not be long now, I made the last effort to be able to stay awake.
Going up the long, wide curves of the highway, I noticed the big city 'of Tuxtla slowly disappear under a sheet of thin white clouds, as protected from the cold of the mountains. From 700 m in height, reaching up to 2200 m of the city 'of San Cristobal. The outside temperature, indicated by numbers on the digital dashboard, descended rapidly, as an account down, stopping at 11 degrees centigrade. At 8:00, I rested my head on the pillow of the bed cold at home of Marcos and I woke up early in the afternoon.
The house is' very large, the external facade, yet to be restored, does not reflect at all the cozy interiors and attention to detail. The 200 paintings in the apartment are divided into three bedrooms, one with a private bathroom complete with whirlpool bath, another bath and then the part I like best ': the great room with a glass table , a large and comfortable sofa, two armchairs and a stone fireplace. The kitchen and 'dark wood, open and completely separate from the hall only by a counter. Clean, comfortable and well appointed, has passed definitely my expectations.
We ate lunch at 4.30 pm at the home of Victor, one of the brothers, along with his father, his wife and their two beautiful girls. After a walk in the center and visit the craft market where I bought scarf and hat, we all went together to the cinema to see · Avatar ¨, the latest masterpiece in terms of age style special effects.
Jatziri and Santiago remained in their aunt and uncle while I sleep, Claudia Marcos, and we dive into the nightlife of the city '. Led by Marcos, who has lived in San Cristobal whole life until a few months ago, before deciding to move to the sea, we made the round of 4-room, returning home at 7 am. In each of these my friend was welcomed like a star, and spent most of the time greeting old friends, comrades of the football team and ex-girlfriends. Each room had style, clientele, music and other characteristics to suit every type of customer. While sipping a beer and talked with Claudia at the counter of the bar · Revolution ¨, in the main street of San Cristobal, I noticed a familiar face among the people. While I stroppicciavo eyes and tried to focus on that image, the man turned around 'at me with an' expression, perhaps even more 'surprise of mine, came over to me. It was Jan Paul, French, my neighbor's room for my first days in San Pedro la Laguna, Lake Atlitan; the one who introduce me 'my dear friend Fredy, I call' the horse riding and gave me lots of useful information about life in the country. After a tour in Guatemala and a break of 2 weeks in Citta 'of Mexico, took a room for 1 month here in San Cristobal where and' looking for an activity 'and where, perhaps, has decided to stay.