The second last night

It's sad to go into a pub all alone. Well, I was not alone because of Mike and because all of the great bartenders he has... But any friend of mine was at Portland when I got there and I felt sad, lonely and helpless. However, I emerged from my ashes like a Fenix and I asked for a beer and I went inside and, with a shy little voice, I told some estrangers if I could sit with them. Those strangers finally turned to be, after some minutes of conversation, Ana and his boyfriend and a friend of them. It was Ana's first time at Portland and she was too afraid, too scared to death to speak English. His boyfriend encouraged her and, finally, she started not only trying but speaking. We were talking about them, about Portland and about all the good things Portland does with people. Alex came late, as always, and he was talking to an American girl who considered -perhaps after three pints of beer- that he was quite handsome... And he didn't wait for long to brag about it. Then we met Coreen, a girl from New York, and we were talking and talking about politics, economics, phisics, chemistry, literature. Yes, kids: it's completely false what people say about Americans and it's completely true what people see in the United States: they have the best educational system of the world. Elena didn't make it this time and Andrea, who was with some other friends, didn't even say goodbye when she left. She appologised some minutes later so, OK, we're going to forgive her. At least this time. We also met Paco. He's a very funny guy. He loves The Lord of the rings, just as we do, and he loves talking about the moments he cried watching the movies, just as we do. Next Wednesday will be my last Portland night this year: I'm moving to Alicante and I'll be there for a whole course in order to do a Master. I've been searching for people interested in speaking English there and, at the moment, I've found a Chinese girl who is interested in speaking Spanish. It will be difficult to find such a great group, such an amazing place there but I'll try to spread the message of Portland wherever I go. I promise.

Reencounter at Portland

It had been a long and stressful summer but Portland's nights should come back so, long after, I finally made a general appeal. My English classmates Dora, Inma and Juanjo were meant to come and so were Andrea and Elena. Héctor and Alex are missing in the deep South so, this time, I was a pair of three of one. I wasn't confident enough about my English. I've been practicing the whole summer, watching films and reading books in English, but I hadn't spoken since I was in Brighton and London in early July. It was hard to take the plunge and start again but it was now or never. So I decided to bite the bullet and I must say that the taste was wonderful. 

Juanjo and Dora were close to the door when I got there. We were talking a little bit about our respective holidays. Juanjo has just come back from a trip to the northwest coast of the US, visiting Seattle and Portland. His american accent, quite evident some months ago, now is obvious, almost native and even republican. Once inside the pub I saw Andrea... Nay, Andrea saw me. I felt very glad to see her again. I really missed our conversations and our misterious connection in some of our favorite topics. Besides our mutual attraction to musicals, this Wednesday we've found out a mutual fear of the unknown. Elena came late as always... And cheerful as always. That was her first time at Portland after the holidays as well. She had been promoted last June and, right now, she looks overwhelmed inside but, no matter what, she always manages to look fresh and shinning outside. 

We were talking with Hillary, a very nice girl from New Hampshire who votes democrat and loves cakes. She has come to Valencia to study Spanish but it seems she still hasn't found the time to do it. I was telling her about my trip to Brighton and about that day I decided to take a bath in the cold waters of the North Sea and my testicles decreased three times their size. A guy came then to our table and handed out some papers with different topics to go on with the conversation. Those topics were absolutely philosophical and completely useless, with questions that were like "what question do you want to be answered"... Nobody seemed to take the paper seriously so I looked around and I said: "Let's keep talking about my balls".

People left early but Elena, Andrea and me remained a little long catching up and singing Pocahontas like in the old days. At  midnight we left as well not before giving ourselves a triple hug to celebrate the reencounter. I don't know if this year will be as many amazing Portland nights as there were before summer (maybe I won't be in Valencia for months) but, anyway, this one has been a perfect premiere. Thank you all!

Summing-up

I'll have my CAE exam on Wednesday. I'm sure I won't find it so easy as I found the FCE exam last December but I'm reasonbly confident... Perhaps not about my success in it, but about the hard work I've done since then. Ask my friends: they will all tell you that I'm living my life in English. And, what is more important, that I'm enjoying it. Studying English is like a very long holiday, doing the same kind of stuff you would do on a daily basis but all in a different language. It's hard at the beginning but you get used to it very quickly: you start understanding the movies, the books, the people... And, at a certain point, you're even able to forget that you're not using your mother tongue. The words disappear from your mind and they turn into feelings without letters, without grammar, an that's a really rewarding moment. Suddenly, you realize that all the effort you've made truly worth it. In my case there's also an extra point: the study of the English language has given me the opportunity of meeting a lot of people and places, and I'm sure it'll be a priceless gift for the future as it has been for the present. Next month I will go to the UK for a ten-day journey and I'll visit the British Museum, Trafalgar Square, the Big Ben and, above all, The Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221b Baker Street. When I turned 30 I said to myself that this was going to be my best decade and I'm stuck to it. To take a case in point, this week I'll have three amazing events: Portland's farewell party on Wednesday, Robi's House warming party on Thursday and a multi-birthday party (included mine) on Friday or Saturday. It's going to be taugh, without question, but fun as well. I'll be bound. 

Portlanders

Every moment at Portland Ale House tends to be a classical moment. Every word, every gesture turns out to be a part of our little history. There isnt'n anything obvious there, anything worthless but the outside. And yesterday even the outside was plenty of things to say. Those students from Iowa have made the miracle: the beer, the meal and the laughs were filling the bar since very early. We met Teylor, a 20 year old cheerleader. I was talking to her for 15 minutes but then I started to feel really breathless... Neither because of her 20s, nor because of her cheerleaderness, but because of a lack of oxygen. I was sat in an inside corner and the air was not running around the place and scarcely filling my lungs. I had to go away, leave the cheerleader and sit in the corridor in order not to suffocate. From that moment on I was silent, looking at the interview my friends were doing to the girl. I've seen that scene a lot of times on the TV: a warm night in the savannah and a succulent prey being sorrounded by a pack of hungry predators. Once I was recovered, I decided to move in to milder latitudes. I sat with Sara, Majo, Alex and a couple from Iowa: a self-called dork girl and her very talkative parner. We had a very good time there, and it even improved when Elena and Guillermo dropped by. There were a lot of interesting conversations, laughs and promises. Guillermo didn't want to give me a birthday kiss and Elena gave me one extra because I said that a girl called Elena was the reason of the more legendary war the world has ever known. We discovered that the "petit mort" was the cigarrette moment, that sometimes sleeping is not that bad when sex is not possible or advisable, and also that thumbs has misterious erotic powers only known by Elena. Mike must be very happy with the success of his bar, by all means, and we share that happiness thoroughly because good things should last and never end. Portlanders forever!

32

Yesterday was my 32th birthday but I'm the kind of guy who doesn't like  these special days. I love common days, ordinary days with all their ordinary things, people and behaviours. Nothing more than the costum, nothing more than the expected. I don't even like being the sharp focus, unless I have really deserved it. These are the reasons that explain why I don't like celebrating the day I was born. In any case, the congratulations should have been adressed to my mom, who did all the work that 4th of June 1980. Well, having said that, I can't complain about my birthday. I've received a lot of affection since the very first hour of the day and I appreciate that coming from such great friends. Now, back to normality, back to the basics, with my mango frappuccino, my laptop and my eyeglass cleaning tissues piggyback, I must thank you all again: You're the best, guys! You're the best boost to keep on counting years. 

Can we get together again

It'll be hard to get all together again. Almost everybody is leaving and we don't really know whether life will join us or not as it used to do. Yesterday we made a sort of a simulation: we went to Bierwinkel, the place where I first met almost all of them, and we spent some time with stories and memories. Some of them will go to Norway, others will go to Germany and the most of us don't even know where we are going to end up. Notwithstanding, it's not time for sadness. It's great to have been able to meet one and all of them. Perhaps they're not my best friends (to become best friend of somebody you need bad moments that, fortunately, we haven't had) but I'm pretty sure that they've been, are and will be the best of all my friends.

CAN WE GET TOGETHER AGAIN

Written by Chuck Jackson and Marvin Yancy

I really enjoyed ya, yes, I did

We got to get together and do it all again some time

Though it's been quite a while since we've been together

I can't get you right off my mind 

So I'm simply asking you, Baby, can we get together

Oh gee, can we get together again

I wanna know, when can we get together

Some day (some day), some way (some way)

You're a miracle boy, that's what you are (hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo)

You're that part of me that I been missing (hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo)

Before you came along I was alive, that's true

But I was just barely, barely attempting, yeah

Can we get together, Baby, Baby

Please can we get together again

Oh, when can we get together

Some day, (some day) some way (some way)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

You brought so much sunshine, yeah

Into this empty life of mine

I'm pray the day will call when we get together again

Stop me from easing and blocking and squeezing

Stop me from pushing, and loving, and pushing

Come on, (can we get together) yeah yeah
(Baby, Baby, please) yeah, yeah, yeah
(Can we get together again)
You know that you and me should be together
(When can we get together) Oh
Yeah, yeah, together, Baby, (some day)
Baby, Baby you and me (some way)
You and me better (can we) get together (get together)
(Baby, Baby, please can we)
We better get together (Get together again), oh, yeah
Let's get together, (when can we) oh, yeah, (get together)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, (some day)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (some way)
(Can we) Oh, (Get together) let's get together
Baby, (Baby, Baby, please can we) you and me should be
(Get together again)
Together, Baby, Baby, you and me
(When can we get together) should be
Together, Baby, Baby, we should really
(Some day) really be together
Baby, (some way) oh, oh
(Can we) Yeah, yeah, yeah, (get together)
Yeah, yeah, (Baby, Baby, please)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, (can we) yeah
Ooh, (get together again) real soon, you
(When can we get together) you
Come home to me soon, (some day)
Real soon, real soon (some way)

D-Day at Portland

My God, what amazing nights! If this goes on for long I won't be surprised if Mike -the owner of Portland Ale House- decides to begin a political career to become Mayor of Valencia. He will call the shots in this town, guys... All in due time. But, let's start from the beginning. From Tuesday. There were seven of us: Lourdes, two friends of hers, Sara, Majo, me and a very special guest: Celine, my dear English teacher. Although it's also an English night, on Tuesday Portland is a more peaceful place than on Wednesday. You can talk to people without shouting and, if you pay attention, you can also listen to the music spread in the air. We were talking about a lot of subjects but, as always, I booked my five minutes of fame when I talked about my sexual problem. (Well, is not a problem... I mean... It doesn't really matter, you know... But the fact is this: each time I start getting excited I always sneeze. That was a problem when I was young because I thought it was a divine sign that was encouraging me to stop doing what I had on my hands. When I grew up, two or three years ago, I asked Google for help and I finally found out that a lot of people have this same, genetical "problem". When my body gets an important sexual stimulation and I try to respond to it, my brain confuses de signal and makes me sneeze once or twice. It's not a problem, for sure... So... OK... Let's turn over a new leaf.) The night was beautiful, as befits a night when you're sorrounded by beatiful women. I was talking mainly to Sara and Majo, always in English, of course, except when we started talking about the monarchy and our sentences needed all their power and fluency. But even Sara wanted to speak in English. At the end of the night we all were pleased and also one of Lourdes' friend told us that she had felt, for the first time after a long time, herself and not somebody's mother. I came back with Celine, although I have to say that she was who really came back with me because she had a bike and decided not to ride it. I showed her the main sites through which passes my daily life, she talked to me me about her handsome and naughty son, and we had a very pleasant homecoming. One night. One morning. The second day: Wednesday. Alex warned us: "Tonight I'm going to give everything" and we all were sure about that. Portland was having an important lack of American and British people but yesterday we turned a corner. Suddenly, in a blink of an eye, a thousand of American student troops turned up, showed up, dropped in... And all the phrasal verbs you can find to express this reality: yesterday at Portland there was a real landing, a real D-Day on our shores. We met Nicole, an amazing girl from Iowa, who could have perfectly commanded the operation according to her fantastic, astonishing skills. Then we met Steven and his pals, and even Nicole's boyfriend, a powerful wrestler man who, eventually, was defeated only with a piercing gaze of Nicole. It was really a fabulous night with Andrea, Jose, Israel, Alex and our new Spanish friends: Victor, Javi and Javi... Portland's last, but not least, pair of three. 

Confessions of a gigolo

This weekend, due to reasons of force majeur, I've been obliged to refuse three interesting plans with three beautiful women. I don't like bragging and my friends know it... But they also know that I'm just a man, a simple and weak man, and yesterday I thought I had found the perfect moment to exploit the situation for the good of those I love. So I went to my mom during the family lunch and showed my mobile phone to her with a cocky face: "Mom," I said, "perhaps you won't believe this but yesterday I turned down three invitations to go out with three beautiful women." After some seconds of reasonable disbelief of my mom I finally could see, just as I wanted to see, the pride glowing through her maternal eyes. A mother always wants to have brought up a shameless son, even if that shamelessness of her son can be perfectly justified by good and righteous reasons. Anyway, and all for my mother's pride and prejudice, I declined to justify my rude behaviour towards the girls and showed myself as an undesirable guy... I mean, as an irresistible man. My mom smiled proudly, my grandma frowned reticent and my dad gestured with some envy and nostalgia of his best years. After that prodigious performance I decided not to proceed with the swagger and show the ace up my sleeve: "But the truth is", I confessed, "they don't really want me because of myself but because of my English." "Are you sure?", my mom said, "Perhaps they want something more of you..." "No, I don't think so", I answered, throwing at the time all her hopes about her son's licentious and vicious sexual life dirtectly to the garbage of the truth.

'Cause she's a really good teacher

For Céline, our lovely and loved teacher. 

It was not clear where that place was. The Taj-Majal, an Indian restaurant with an inconvenient name: how the hell comes that somebody decides to name a restaurant after a funerary monument? There was a supermarket with the same name close to it, but we finally found the exact place when we saw a couple of great wooden elephants at the door and dismissed them as a tribute to our beloved king. I really enjoyed the dinner. Most of my English classmates were there and I was happy to see them all again. I was in the middle of the table and I had very interesting conversations. Adri told me about her problems with the food (hers was the only non entirely Indian dinner on the table) and about how she has sacrificed some pleasures such as chocolate or beer in exchange for health and welfare. Lourdes was talking about her recent lindy hop lessons, Laura about homeopathy and traditional Chinese medicine and Juanjo about hiking and how a place can change depending on the time and on the age of the visitor. We also gave Céline a pair of presents: a hippy bracelet and a stylish patterned (...) cotton scarf. We sang a song for her, she smiled, and the DO NOT DISTURB T-shirt she was wearing finally lost all its raison d'etre. It's true that we were speaking in Spanish (to the displeasure of Jose, who was invited by me with a promise of an English dinner)... But I'm sure he equally enjoyed the dinner and all the people around it. That was my first time in an Indian restaurant and I liked the food, I really liked it... At least since 5 in the morning, when the inspiring memories of its pleasing exotic flavors started being excessive for my body and my mind. Anyway, the night was beautiful with or without slow digestions and Céline, Lourdes, Jose and me decided to go on with it at a not-too-near bar, where we sang without voice and danced without rhythm. But it's the thought that counts, guys. It's the thought that really counts. 

How I met Alex and Héctor

I first met Alex and Héctor about three or four years ago. I was and I still am a friend of Luisa, a friend of theirs, and she invited me to go along with her to have some drinks at Bierwinkel, in Benimaclet. There were ten of us, more or less, and I casually sat in front of Alex. I had a quick good feeling about him and I tried to start a conversation as soon as possible but I really didn't know how to do it. But, suddenly, I had an inspiration. We both had ordered beer, each of us a different one, and the waiter had served them to us in completely different glasses. I'd finally found the perfect icebreaker:

-Hey -I told Alex pointing out the glasses-, why is yours long and narrow and mine is short and fat?

He gave me a strange look and eventually smiled a bit, although I think he didn't get the joke. 

That night I didn't talk to Héctor because he was bussy, but some time after we met again at a dinner. I remember that I felt extremely surprised because of his perfect good manners: before I realized that I needed a fork, he was giving me a fork; before I realized that I needed a napkin, he was giving me a napkin. Some dinners after his manners decreased a little bit in quantity but never in quality. 

Since then Alex, Héctor and me have done a lot of things together and I'm very proud of having such good friends. This post is specially for them.

Dine and dash

I must confess I was worked up even before the night started. A lot of people from very different places and myself in the middle, as a kind of connection between them. I have a problem and that problem is that I always try to be a perfect host: speak to everybody, attend to everybody, manage the situation so that everybody can feel comfortable. I got to Portland very early. I'd been studying and reading all the afternoon and I needed a cool and restorative beer. Nobody was there yet but Nacho, a guy I always find as soon as I arrive, and her friend Silvia, who is weirdly reluctant to speak in English if she's not drunk. Nacho told me, slowly and carefully, about his recent trip to Belgrade and all the beautiful girls he saw there. I didn't sit with them. I ordered a beer and then I was waiting and drinking at the bar, just as a sad and lonely sailor newcomer to a foraign shore. The first arrivals were Sara and Majo. Davinia is still recovering for her operation and for the time being, their particular pair of three makes a common (but extraordinary) pair of two. We had a few sips at the bar and then we sat at a big... Sorry, at the biggest table in the pub for the people to come and the things to happen. In ten minutes our trio turned into an orchestra: Andrea, Elena, Hector, Jose, two strange guys, some friends of I don't remember who and a married couple from Liverpool. The biggest table in the pub, before empty, suddenly was filled and about to overflow. The man from Liverpool was talking to us about the slang, about football, about the rivalry between Liverpool and Manchester and how comes that your enemy's neighbour always becomes your friend. It was a very good experience and one of those times I phisically feel that my English is improving day by day. The people began to leave the place but we had an unexpected income: Lourdes came straight from Requena to Portland and stayed with Jose and me talking about how they met until Mike started putting the chairs on the tables. As I said, the night was going to be hard and bussy but, eventually, it was a great night. I even did a dine and dash but... Put the blame on the beers, boys. Put the blame on them.

Why does the grinning bobcat grin?

Last but not least farewell dinner with my English classmates. As in the previous one I ended up singing Pocahontas but, in this case, only in a private session to Marina. I also talked to Israel about japanese porn (sounds included), did arm wrestling with Jose Andrés (I won with traps), reviewed with Elisa who was speaking English (Marina was who made the strongest effort) and explained to Ana why I like the older Resident Evil games more than the new ones (although I think she didn't care about it at all). After the class, we went to a bar specially chosen by Israel in Torrent and we ate delicious homemade meal and drank delicious imported beer. Just before that Elisa had revealed that we all had passed the exam so the good mood was inexorably installed on the table, in the same way it have been installed in class since the very beginning of the course. I really liked the experience. I've been taking the subway every Monday and Wednesday afternoon since February with the conviction that it would be a great trip. Elisa has known how to make a group from such different people and that's not easy at all. Since the first day, when we made a tribal dance around an imaginary bonfire, we have sung songs of The Beatles, watched TV-shows and a movie (Peggy Sue got married), played all kinds of games, talked a lot and learned even more. When the dinner was over, the "Happy Birthday" was sung to Hector and all the kisses were properly and warmly kissed, Jose Andrés, Israel, her girlfriend and I came back to Valencia to go on with the party. We drank more beer, sang more songs, offered some busty single girls to Jose and talked a lot about history... Because being able to tell old stories is, perhaps, the only advantage we have taken with the History degree. So... Mision accomplished! We don't know anything about the future but, at least, we have collected a great bunch of good memories. Best wishes for all my lovely classmates: for Ana, Anifi, Luis, Lola, José Carlos, Raúl, Héctor, Marina, José Andrés, Israel, Carlos, Charlie and for our Aussy girl, Elisa. Fur Elise. See you soon, guys!

Summery nights

We didn't go to see any movie in the end. Instead of that, my classmates and I went to a bar and we talked about life, love and loath for long. We were almost all the people in the class and even others join us: the American friend of Juanjo or the Spanish friend of Céline. It was a beautiful summery afternoon. The rutine of going to the English course is finishing and it's time to celebrate being together all the hours we have been together during this months. It was amazing to have had such great classmates and now I'm sure there's no better way to make good friend than practising a language. At the bar we were talking about a lot of topics but, above all, we took advantage of the American girl and went through the differences between British and American language, between British and American people. I found out how dangerous is to use English idioms and how much you have to take care of it when you decide to use them. "It's raining cats and dogs?", no please, that's an old-fashioned one. "Are you having me one?", no please, only if you are pulling a British leg. As soon as night fell we started singing songs of Disney, Grease, The sound of music... Hits never to be forgotten. It was a pity that Céline, our teacher, left us just before the show began but we'll try to repeat it in our plannified Sunday Quiz at Portland. It was a very busy week. On Friday Alex and me went to the Food and Wine Exposition at the Turia river... Again. Last Wednesday we went with Lourdes and a friend of hers and we ate some tapas and drink some wine in a friendly and sober atmosphere. Nothing, really nothing to do with Friday night. But I must shut up in this moment and encourage my friend to write about it. His adventure, unfortunately, lasted more and ended up further and worse than mine. 

A different world

Andrea asked us about what had happened there. She had been to India for three weeks and now she has found a very different world: our English had improved a lot, our friendships had grown wildly and we even had a new Whatsapp group with her friend Elena. Alex and me went to her table at Portland Ale House last Wednesday and welcomed her after her journey. She went to India to attend a wedding and because of her eyes we could realized that it had been quite an adventure for her. She explained us a bit of it (e.g. how she had to sleep all alone in a train station upon arrival) and she will explain all of you the details if she finally decides to join the blog. She had changed too. Her heels were lower than usual and stronger her presence. There was a shade in her voice and this shade told us that her eyes had been seeing things she'd never thought she would ever see. We were talking for half an hour and we even met two friends of hers... One of them, by the way, who thought that I was from New York so that I felt obliged to say "Thank you but sorry". Then we changed tables and went to my favourite one, the one with the Jack Daniels' bottles' lamp. There we were talking with Cecilia, the Sicilian girl and an American guy. Then Kummy and Maribel joined us. We didn't know Maribel and she was talking about her trips to the United Kingdom, her latest stay in Liverpool and the very different way of life that British people have. We had the confirmation a bit later: when we left Portland to go home I said goodbye to Kummy from afar and she scolded me for not doing it in the Spanish style... Just as I did last week, when I scolded her for doing it in the British one. Finally, after another great night at Portland, Alex and me headed to Benimaclet and went through the night highlights. Then I noticed how much I like the way Alex's words overflow his mouth just before he starts talking. 

The one that I want

I watched Grease last night, in my bed, with my laptop on my chest, whispering the songs and feinting the coreographies in the dark wuth my arms and my hips. It has been a very long time since the last time I watched it although, perhaps, there has been no day or week I haven't hummed any of its fantastic songs. In fact, I think (if Paulaner beer doesn't fool me) that Elena, Robi, Hector and me danced Summer nights at the Oktoberfest. I've seen this movie about ten times but it was surprising how many new things I found out yesterday. First, I discovered the original English version and the great teenager voice of John Travolta, very similar to Nicholas Cage's one in Peggy Sue got married. Second, I noticed a lot of funny references that I had been missing for all this years, e.g., where the high school director encourages her students through the microphone to become great celebrities: "And among you, young men, there may be a Joe DiMaggio, a President Eisenhower or even a Vice President Nixon." The Watergate scandal hadn't yet happened in the Roaring fifties. And that's the point: when I was younger I really didn't realized that Grease was a 1978's movie set in the 50s and, accordinly, a parody of the American life of those years. Knowing that, you can enjoy the movie even more: the characters, the enviroment, the story... And what can I say about the songs? They have become immortal hymns. I'd want to pay special tribute to the lovely Betty Rizzo (Stockard Channing, an actress who we'd enjoy some years later as the First Lady of The US on The West Wing) and to the two songs she sings: Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee (a hilarious piece where she makes fun of Sandy) and There are worse things I could do (not as famous as the previous, but a pretty song about appareances sake). Finally I want to give you all a piece of advice: until you were able to sing Grease Lihtning in one go your English won't be good enough. 

Rights and wrongs of an English exam

Yesterday I went to visit my hairdresser and his halitosis. I tried not to speak (and all of you know know how much effort I have to make to remain silent) but he was especially talkative and, accordingly, disgusting. Fortunately I don't have too much hair and the nightmare finished soon. Every cloud has a silver lining. When I had my hair cut and my nostrils about to bleed, I came back home and had my brunch: a precooked serving of macaroni. I was reading the newspaper and, finally, I left home and I went to the Starbucks to my daily ration of English study. Two hours later, however, I felt an emptiness in my stomach... The brunch hadn't been enough and I decided to eat one more time. I gave into temptation and I went to Wok to Walk, a funny spot at San Vicente Street where I ordered white rice with chicken breast and teriyaki sauce. It was absolutely delicious and the pain of having eated twice vanished all among the pleasure. Then I came back to my private library (I mean Starbucks) and I was reading George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones for about two hours. At 4.30 pm I headed to the subway and traveled towards Torrent, where I had an English exam (not THE English exam, which is to be in June, but an ordinary English exam). I have to say that I'm very lucky to have a conversation partner like Marina. I like her very much. I like her kindness and sweetness and her way of saying "¡Nein!" when a simple "¡No!" seems too little emphatic to her. She also laughs a lot but not indiscriminately, as so many people do. She always looks for a reason before laughing. We did a spectacular speaking exam togheter. She talked about the TV, I talked about technologies and then we had a ten-minutes discussion on where to send our fictional parents on their Anniversary Trip. She was terrific and I was terrific too, why should I say otherwise? At the writing part of the exam we had to make a drafting about the new communication tools, Internet and social network. I took a photo specially to copy the text here. And here it is:

History means changes. All societies have faced a lot of changes and have evolved because of them. People are often reluctant to these changes and it took them loads of years to adapt and accept them. Now we live in the communication age and, in my opinion, we all have taken advantage of it. This world has become smaller and the distance between people and between countries [I think I made a mistake here: I must have written "among people and countries"] is getting shorter and shorter as time goes by. There are bad things, I'm sure of that, but the more we can improve our communication tools the more they will help us to make a difference and turn our planet into a better and fairer place for everybody. In spite of this, people must know that to be in contact with the culture doesn't mean to get culturalized [This is a verb I invented in the exam to make the pun. The proper verb should've been "enlighten" or "educate"]. We also need to know how to use culture properly in order to be happy... And this should be our main target in years to come.

Having finished the exam, Marina, Luis, Hector "the other" and me had a very interesting conversation about books and Portland's nights. Next Monday we'll have a farewell dinner hopefully full of good news for everyone. 

A time for everything

While I was waiting outside the Palau de la Música, a few minutes before the concert, I noticed that the people around me were the same kind of people who are expected to be at the gates of a church... With only one difference: these people were smoking before entering. Also I saw a lonely old man who was smiling all the time, 15 minutes in a row, and I was about to ask him about the reason of such an incredible happiness when I thought that, perhaps, he had some sort of muscle problem in the face that doomed him to that demostration of joy. Elena arrived late because of the traffic and because of her own nature. After the moments of suspense, we finally could enter to the Palau and prepare ourselves to listen to a selection of works by Dvořák: In the nature, Carnivale, Otelo and the Symphony nº7 in D minor. It was my very first time in a concert of classical music. I had been to some little concerts, trios and quartets, but not with an entire orchestra. I liked it. I liked live music, the rhythmic movement of musicians and the listlessness of the woman in a black gown who played the traverse flute. She could be the summer breeze but also the winter coldness, the nature calm but also the human pain. Despite having the same taste as far as cheese is concerned, Elena and me have really different musical preferences. She likes the percussion and I like woodwind instruments, she likes the drums and I like the oboes. I told her that this may be caused because I'm a Gemini and my main element is the air, so random and fickle. She's the insider in the world of music: she has sung and also played the piano some years ago... And she has even had dinner with Lang Lang himself last month as well! After the concert we went with Robi and Hector to the May's Oktoberfest held in the bullring. My last time there was amazing and I didn't lose my shirt as I did yesterday, but this time was funny too and we sang and jumped and drank like real Berliners. Prost, meine Freunde!

Emigration

(Drafting sent to a contest)

Travel abroad won't make me taller but it will make me grow, it won't improve my vision but it will sharpen my perception, it won't give me more strength but it will make me more powerful, it won't sculpt my muscles but it will shape the surface of my dreams. Travel abroad will offer me the opportunity to know the risk of facing the doubt and address the thrill of the unknown. Travel abroad will make me move away from old certainties and depart from the usual warmth... But it will also allow me to develop myself unhindered, grow unfettered, live without limits. You are not able to learn when the roads are marked and not able to live when every decision comes down to chance that the time dictates. One, two, three ... Not many, just a few steps needed to take the final one. It's true that the muscle can shake for a moment and the weekness can appear behind every question, but there's no gain without adventure and no movement without steam. Today more than ever, to stay is to stuck. Today more than ever, be satisfied is to surrender to mediocrity. Advance, evolve, leave... A foraign land is and also will be all those things we lack of.

The circle of life

After a failed attempt caused by a broken pipe, Elena and me finally went to the Bioparc yesterday. The Bioparc is a beautiful place sited on the banks of the old river channel and it has nothing to do with a zoo. There are no cages, there are no chains, and some animals often appear suddenly in your way, just like if they were visiting the place as well. The entry tickets are a little expensive for just one visit, that's true, but I think it deserves each cent on the prize. Besides, I had a lunch for free thanks to Elena who brought a salad and a delicious quiche granished with goat's cheese and cured ham. Our first steps headed to Madagascar, an exciting zone where we could see beautiful flamingos with incredible pink legs, talapoins, drills and one of the coolests animals in the world: the lemurs. In the tree branches or in the green grass there were red and grey lemurs and the latter were absolutely amazing while they were sunbathing with open arms. Elena took some photos and one of the red lemurs even posed for her like a professional model. Then we get into the savanna. The sun shone strongly on the top of the sky and sand flows hovered in the breeze of the noon. Antelopes and zebras shared their space with buffalos and rhinos, and all of them with the calm and imposing figure of the giraffes. Elena is in love with giraffes, so in love that almost the rest of the creatures means nothing to her. Put a giraffe in front of her and she won't need anything else to be happy. She loves their shape, their eyes, their ears, their quietness and how they come close to the people to say hello. Yesterday we spent a lot of time seeing giraffes and we also gave names to a couple of them: Big shot (Mandamás) and Little leaf (Hojita). Only an animal competes for the heart of Elena: the turtles. We were watching turtles for about half an hour. We saw how they walked, how they ate, how they loved and, above all, how they didn't do anything at all... Perhaps the most exciting way to do something. We saw much more animals: gorillas, chimpanzees, meerkats, camels... And even cockroaches, that perhaps don't have any reason to exist but, at least, they have the right to do it. In summary: we spent a very beatiful and a very nice day together in the Bioparc. When we went to say goodbye to the lemurs, to the turtles and to Big shot and Little leaf, the sunset was already falling on the sacred land of Africa.  

Out of the circles

Marina was right: Salamanca Street is a street, not an avenue. But, who decides what is what? And on the basis of what? The length? The importance? The tradition? Salamanca Street is a street and it will remain being it for a very long time, but there's no more reason than the pure reality. Marina and me met up at Portland's at 9 pm. Next week we'll have our speaking exam and I thought that this bridge would be a good chance to practice together in a warm and confortable place. In the beginning she was a little nervous, a little dislodged because of me (despite of being classmates, she told me I wasn`t in her ordinary social circle) an because she would have never figured out that there could be a piece of the UK inside Valencia where people only speak in English. However, after making a couple of exercices and drink a half pint, she felt more confident, less extrange. On the TV Manchester City and Manchester United were disputing the most important match of their history and, at the same time, Marina was making an amazing speech about "Stereotypes". Then, after my speech about "Fame" we finally decided to forget our papers and chronometers and we talked and talked for a long time about loads of subjects, including her devastating trip to Middlesbrough and our common liking for musicals. At 22 pm we went to Peggy Sue's, the American restaurant close to Portland's. I stuffed myself there with a big, incredible feast made of cheese salad, fries, chicken sticks, hamburger and a delicious cheesecake with blackberry ice cream. I ate like a pig and Marina, instead of ordering food, had fun ordering songs in a little jukebox next to our table. We were there, alternating English and Spanish, until the restaurant was closed and then we came back to Portland until the pub was closed. It was an amazing and very productive night at Salamanca Street, since today a street that is much more avenue than yesterday thanks to her.

Urbana, Illinois

Good news, everyone! That's what Professor Farnsworth says everytime he's about to send Fry, Bender, Leela and the rest of the Futurama's crew to the Planet of Destruction in the Painful Galaxy... But, in this case, we have really and truly good news to everyone: our friend Lourdes, after passing an exam and an interview last week, will finally go to teach next year the students of... Urbana (Illinois)! I've been looking for some information about this place and that's what I've found: Urbana is located on the East Side of Illinois and it's the tenth-most populous city in the outside of the Chicago Metropolitan area with 41,250 people. It's a well-known city because of its University, the University of Illinois, that has most of its campus here, in the Champaigne-Urbana (by the funny nickname of Chambana) zone. Apart from the University, at Urbana Lourdes will also be able to see the famous Market at the Square (a 33 years old market where vendors sell local products such as tomatos, corn or watermelons), the Urbana Free Library (founded in 1874) or the Station Theatre (a Big Four Railway until 1956, when the Theatre was finally built). Funnily enough, there is a connection between Urbana and Spain and that connection is a writer, the spanish writer Javier Cercas, who used Urbana as background for two of his novels: El inquilino (1989) and La velocidad de la luz (2005). We are all very happy because of Lourdes' success although we haven't celebrated it properly yet. We'll do it soon! Congratulations Lourdes! You really deserve it!

Portland's Eve

Devoted to Eva, because of her birthday... and everything else! 

Things were easier to handle before. We usually got there, chat a little bit to each other and then sat in a table with three or four more people until midnight. Now all has changed. We get there and, in a blink of an eye, we found ourselves surrounded by friends. Old and new friends. English, American or Spanish friends. Friends already made and friends to be made. The more the merrier, of course, but due to we speak English we need to pay special attention to the words and due to we need to pay special attention to the words we can't attend to everybody. Eyes are always looking for the eyes, ears are always looking for the sounds of the mouths. There's no place for speculation. Yesterday I arrived to Portland's very early. I had been all the morning studying and, in the afternoon, I felt tired and I decided to play hookie and go to the cinema instead of going to my English class... But it wasn't a good idea. I didn't enjoy the movie as much as I use to enjoy Elisa's classes. At least, I was able to be in Valencia just in time to go to Portland's at 8 pm, find an empty table from the very begining and not to have to fight for a sit like a tiger in the dense jungle. When I arrived I saw Silvia's friend guy, Nacho, who always cames to me to say hello but this time we didn't have a conversation. A few metters deeper I found Sara all alone. Because of things to happen and people to come, we decided to sat together in an empty big table at the far end of the pub. We were speaking for a long while about ourselves, about our siblings and about our place in the world. Sara is a very nice girl and quite a party one. She likes going out, meeting up with friends, talking with them and listening to music... Heavy metal music, to be more specific. We also spoke about English and shared some interesting vocabulary. False friends like "argument" or "parcel", words that don't have anything to do with "argumentos" or "parcelas". Then her friends Davinia, Majo and Ana made it and also Kumy, a London girl who works as an English teacher here in Valencia and has acquired her teaching skills after a really hard training with Richard Vaughan's people. Afterwards, the rest of the bunch finally arrived and, with some new and special guests, our empty table turned into a crowded and noisy table. We had to leave soon but it was for a good reason: TODAY IS EVA'S BIRTHDAY! As soon as the new day came Alex and I congratulated her by phone and, some minutes after, we gave her one and two kisses respectivelly in person. We had a really good time with the lovely her and the no less lovely Carol talking about dancing penguins and people who survive after falling on a plane out of control. Who would care about football having such good friends? HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVA! 

Lost in translation

Our first participation in the Portland's Quiz Show could be described with a lot of words: disastrous, catastrophic, apocalyptic... But, above all, it was a warning sign with flashy glimmering lights telling us, shouting to us, that our English wasn't as good as we thought it was. We were too self-confident, too cocky, after several months of intensive study. And after several beers too. But everything was against us. To begin with, perhaps we were the only Spanish guys there (including, as "Spanish guys", our dear Italian girl named Robi and the American friend of Lourdes) and we were also the most novice people in da house. Because of the odd dynamic of the Quiz, the difficulty of the questions and the event speekers's Scotishness we were utterly lost in translation. That's why, I suppose, in the end we started eating Doritos and talking about puritanism, Janet Jackson's nipple and willful wet dreams. The show was still going on but not with us. Lourdes had got an interview today (her last step on her way to the US) and I'm not really sure if that crazy night has been or not the best training for it... Anyway, we truly enjoyed the time there and now we can say we're wiser than we were before. Or did you know that there are 25 prime numbers between 0 and 100? Now we know it... And so do you. 

Springtime at Portland's

April has been a wonderful month. Not only because Real Madrid has defeated FC Barcelona at Camp Nou but also because it has been a really good month for all the Portland's friends. Let's make a count: Lourdes and Majo have passed their English exams (Bravo!), Lizzy has moved to Valencia (Welcome!), Alex has started working (We wish you get paid as soon as possible!), Cecilia has discovered the pleasure of baseball (Strike!) and Andrea is right now on her way to India in order to attend a wedding (But not hers!). Furthermore, Elena has been improving her plumber skills and, at this rate, she'll become the man of her house very soon. This month has seen also this blog's birth and its first steps. We've got an Aries blog, mates. An independent, passionate and enthusiastic Aries blog. I'm the only writer here so far, but I still hope that someone decides to join me shortly. Come on, guys!! It's not THAT hard!! We've had very pleasant times at Portland's. Alex was my first partner the first time I went there, about two months ago. We were quite surprised because the pub was crowded and it was even hard to move inside. We didn't really know what to do in the middle of that mob of strangers but when we ordered the first beer the miracle happened: we met our firsts friends there. I think they were Vicky, Lizzy, Silvia and then Elena, Andrea and Paul. It was amazingly easy to get on well with all of them. English is the best ice-breaker I've ever known and, since that very night, we've met a lot of people there from all around the world: from Florida to Valencia via Illinois, California, Perú and London. I love going there each Wednesday (or Tuesday or Sunday) and also reviewing the highlights with my friends on our way home. At Portland's you can feel like a foreigner in your own country and that's such an incredible experience that everybody should taste with a good beer in their hand. Do you feel like a Panty dropper?

Travellers around the table

Yesterday I went to Portland. Cecilia had told me that she was going to be late, very late, but I decided to come there earlier in order to see the football match between Bayern Munich and Real Madrid. It was an exciting match and also an exciting experience to be there without saying aything to anybody: we were just me and my pint of Golden Ale. Cecilia finally arrived at 23:30 and we were talking for a few minutes about Cecilia things. She's trying to make up her mind in a lot of things and she tried to do it in English, that is, kill two birds with one stone. When the chat got deeper (we were talking about subconscious and hidden loves that guide you toward places where you don't really want to go) she decided to change the language and speak in Spanish  but, suddenly, something stopped her. Well, not something but somebody: an English guy from London (a kind of more handsome Ricky Gervais named Lee) who asked her if I was her boyfriend. In return, I asked him if he was interested in her and he was like "Sure, I am." With Lee was another man, a 60 year old Australian man (a kind of younger Leonard Cohen named Mark) who works with him as a commercial of some sort of electronic devices. We all four sat together in a table: Lee trying to flirt with Cecilia and me trying to know the details of Mark's life. He's a traveller, a vagabond, an erring man who lives his live all across the word: he has lived in Australia, England, the United States an Spain. He was divorced (just like Lee), with three kids (Lee has two), and love has constantly attracted him to adventure. It seems that he can't settle down anywhere, that his live is pure movement, and he told me that's one of the reasons why he can't speak in Spanish despite of all the years he has been here. We were having a really good time and when Portland closed we moved to a nearby pub. We drunk gin tonics (Cecilia just a beer) and we laugh with the strenuous efforts made by Lee in order to succeed with Cecilia. In the end, he got her telephone number and her best wishes to meet him again. Love, my friends, is still in the air. 

St. Vincent's Day

Today is St. Vincent's Day, patron saint of Valencia. He was a Dominican preacher and a very important person in Valencian politics six centuries ago. If you want to do something special you should go to the outsides of the Cathedral, next to the Plaza de la Almoina, and look for a tiled picture located in the wall (just above this text). There you can see two armies that are about to fight each other and, in the middle, there is one single man in a black and white robe trying to make peace between them. This man is St. Vincent and the two armies are the Centelles and the Vilaraguts, two ancient valencian families confronted, a kind of Montagues and Capulets before Montagues and Capulets. These two families were always fighting and whatever issue happened was one more reason to fight again: a misstep, a dirty look... Finally they found the perfect excuse to exterminate definitively with the enemy: a succession war between Castile's Crown and Aragon's Crown. The Vilaragut family decided to support the Aragonese candidate, Jaime de Urgel, and the Centelles family decided to give their support to the Castilian candidate, Fernando de Trastámara. After some time of violent confrontations, both sides decided to solve the problem through diplomatic channels. Six hundred years ago, in 1412, in the so called Compromiso de Caspe (commitment in which St. Vicent took a crucial part), the most important people of both kingdoms chose to elect the Castilian candidate, Fernando de Trastámara, as King of the Aragon's Crown under the name of Fernando I. With this election, and as the winner party, the Centelles family gave a hard blow to their Vilaragut rivals. No love affair, nor Romeo or Juliet is known between those two families but that doesn't mean that it didn't happen. Today is a good day to toast to this unrevealed and tragic love. 

Obsessive English

Since I spend more time with my English than with another type of affaires, my erotic dreams have amazingly decreased. Those old fantasies located in locker rooms, showers or public toilets (result of both my testosterone as my need to pee in the morning) have changed and where I usually saw tempting boobs and chewy lips now I only see third conditionals and phrasal verbs. It's a loss, no doubt, but I hope that the more I improve my grammar and vocabulary the more erotic and speechless will become my dreams again. It'll be difficult. I'm a wordy person since I was 12. Mr. Torres, my Spanish teacher, gave us all his students several long lists with advance level Spanish words that we must learn. I only remember two of them: the verb "abrumar" (overwhelm) and the adjective "níveo" (lily or niveous), but all the rest were the same sort ("jaez"). During our leisure time, my friend Julio and I used to play to talk with those weird words. Besides, I read a lot and sometimes, as a result of all that, my friends often tell me that I don't speak in a normal way. Alex has the same problem and our common and very cherished friend Carol scolded him last Thursday for using the word "parco" (spars) instead of using another one like "breve" (brief). But it could be worse because he could have used "sucinto" (succint). This problem of unintentional pedantry in Spanish makes us more difficult to express ourselves properly in English but, anyway, we'll have to try even if it become an obession and we can't have gorgeous dreams anymore. 

Fall and rise of a Wednesday night

It was an amazing night yesterday. We met Nacho and Sara and Mariajo and Héctor and Pepi and María and Elena and Andrea and Cecilia and Eric and Vicky and Elisabeth... And all of this in a single narrow barrel used as a table. We were close, very close, and Sara's kilometric legs were suffering a kind of claustrophobic experience, more and more intense as night went by. I arrived all alone to Portland Ale House and, just entering, Nacho found me. He was really friendly. We spoke about his trip to London in 2006 and I thanked him when he told me that I seemed to have been there because of my English level. Then we both were found by Mariajo and Sara. I didn't remember Sara's name (I called her Lourdes) but I did Mariajo's one because that's my sister's name and blood is thicker than wine. We met them last week and it seems they liked us because they have come back. This time they weren't with their friend Davinia but, to compensate that, they brought their lovely friend Ana. Elena came later and we were talking about animals and we discuss about if they are happy or unhappy at the zoo, whether they enjoy or not their lack of freedom. She loves turtles and her favourite teenage mutant ninja turtle was Michelangelo, just like mine. Then Alex fell off the chair. Yes, he fell off the chair and he almost drowned in his own beer but, apparently, he wasn't hurt except in his dignity. He finally recovered from the fall and his shirt (or perhaps his skin) absorved the spilled beer in the blink of an eye. Put the blame on the chair, boys. I was glad to see my classmate Hector there. He was with his girlfriend Pepi and she felt a little bit frightened because she wasn't confident enough with her (paradoxically good) level of English. But, in the end, I think she enjoyed the get together just like the rest of us. Today we have a poker tournament in Alex's house. We'll keep you informed about if he fell off again... Literally or metaphorically.

Things I told her while she was having her period

"There is a spanish saying: El corazón tiene razones que la razón no entiende. In English is a little more tasteless: The heart wants what the heart wants. Sometimes we can't be rational and sometimes we have to pay for it. Is useless complaining about the past. You have to look ahead  and stay focused on things you can handle with. Think about your dreams and try to enjoy the rest. Life is too short, baby. There are no such things as paths or fate... We own our lives and that's why we have the freedom to go after our dreams. Don't worry about the past. It's pointless an counterproductive. Enjoy your life and squeeze it as much as possible. Now you're eating popcorn but tomorrow you'll be burning fat at the gym. As Montaigne said once: La vie c'est ondoyante. Life is undulating. La vida es ondulante. Your period is undulating too. If you were a man I would recommend you a porn session. You're a woman so... Calm down and let your hormons get balanced. Not everybody is so lucky to find and being found by the proper person and not everybody is so unfortunate to find and being found by the wrong person. Next time I'll charge you for my services. Not only popcorn and chocolate companies should take advantage from hormonal imbalance."

Hi there!

Almost two months ago this pair of three has started visiting Portland Ale House. Our first objective was (and it still remains the same, as far as I know) to practice our English skills. However, we've never underestimated the pleasure provided by the beer and the good company... And Portland Ale House has given us both things in a biblical abundance. We've met a lot of people there and we hope to meet many more in the months ahead. After them, we're supposed to migrate and get the hell out of this ungrateful country. The purpose of this blog is to report our experiences and tell about all kind of things that comes to our minds. We'll accept and appreciate all the corrections that you, our dear reader, wish to make us. This could be a very useful way to improve our English and our spirits, both one and the others hungry for knowledge and love. Welcome to everybody and... Make your bets!