I exiliaré to a cold country where mid-afternoon but did not enter a coffee Haga, for example, to look at the candor of the parishioners. In a city whose center extends a forest of leaves frost and bare trunks behind which the deer hide. Semidesert sail between islands where gray crows is related to the penguin and there is always a guy who pushes a cart in the yard left. Let me carry the cargo of timber when the ferry is gone. Göteborg, pronounced Jiotevor. Industrial city in southern Sweden with less than a million people heading for a pit in the North Sea. We owe to the hospitality of my cousin Louis's stay and a bottle of rum Santa Teresa a few afternoons in glory while the other side of the lake near the temperature drops to five degrees below zero.
four days were barely enough to take the pulse of a place that moves with looseness between the fantastic and the everyday pedestrian. The tourist has spoiled perpetual temptation to remove the camera lens of the domes of the churches and photographed with a mixture of anger and devotion holes free parking in the center, anywhere. The miracles of public transport, a tram network as taken from a spy movie, a specific bus service, naaaaasda haaaaarlaaaanda. The Swede played first language seems a goofy, vaguely related to English. The Swedes, lived at first, some guys seem willing to discuss anything but. Confident, smooth. Even the proud local Hell's Angels, aesthetic part, are willing to open the door of the smoking room of the Rock Baren, yes, if you take one drink in hand. Special attention to the blackjack tables in which the positions are paid with tokens exchangeable for mixed drinks.
must be it, bad habit of tourists accustomed to horror, which makes the animal is feeling joy instant snow in the dense forests or stepping on the thick ice of a large lake. In the Midwest there is another much bigger. As the province of Andalusia or so. That must be it, a thirst quenched at once ancient and alluvium.
Several times I thought that there (Or a similar place, I miss Norway - and I hope to carry that on account of Comtessa installed and as temperatures rise - and Finland, an old obsession I owe to my friend Jesus) would be happy. Could be folded into that life and those terrible images. Sorry for italianófilos of the blogosphere, but the Mediterranean at the end going to be that I have just. If anything the bay of Javea and the rest I can be. In fact they are already doing. Of course, eventually, if I go to visit, let us know in time so they will not open in long underwear. None of you deserve to go through such a predicament. There
I leave a penultimate challenge is the city Göteborg of lost gloves. Guess why? The solution in the second report of Sweden.
All this, of course, with the brown, excellent travel companion and exile.
