tranquilo
Everyday, I wake up bright and early (if you call 10 AM early) to tend to the chickens and milk the cows and (what chickens? there are no chickens, and I don't even drink milk). Usually after breakfast, I work the land (I need to cut the grass maybe once a month) which is back breaking work (this is sort of true since it takes 2 or 3 days to mow the lawn...more like machete-ing a jungle).
my neighbor 'tusocks' feasting on some tasty weeds
During this time, I usually see my neighbor Juan and his lovely dog Yeti (bastard dog won't stop barking at me), and we discuss the latest events and our simple life here in the country (half the time...no, most of the time, I have no idea what he's saying). I then usually head into town to the bread store and the farmer's market, exchanging bread, vegetables and other food items with the fresh eggs and milk that I collected earlier in the morning (or maybe I use the euros that I just withdrew from the ATM across the street). At around 2:30 PM, I take a siesta after a long morning of work (work is sort of true since I'm sort of working on a film......but the siesta part is definitely true). Afterwords, I take the herd of cows to the field to graze, and to the stream to drink (this is a whole new level of bullshit......at this time, I usually do cannonballs into the pool). At the end of the day, I'm quite exhausted from a long day's work (sitting in the hot sun drinking sangria around the pool can wear a guy out). After a hot shower, I cook a hearty meal and watch the sunset over the hills with a glass of vino tinto (this is possibly the only truth in this entire passage). At night, I retire around the fireplace reading classic literature pieces (not even close, it's been watching the EuroCopa every night, especially with España winning it all....
a por ellos!). Two or three times a week, I head into town for my only connection with the outside world, using this revolutionary new invention, the internet information superhighway (what can I say, things come really slow out here). On the following day, I follow the same routine (did I mention I've also got a cleaning lady? I'm a spoiled bastard) as a simple peasant farmer here in the Spanish countryside.
my field of blood, sweat and tears, the piscina
my other neighbor, sueño
He's a little bit country, and a little bit rock n' roll,
Dónde está Che Pelotas?Labels: around the world, global transmission, piedralaves, travel
Just like all towns in England, St. Ives in Cornwall has many many pubs. One might say that they're a religious institution.
And doing a pub crawl is akin to making a holy pilgrimage to Mecca. For instance in this one pub called 'The Three Ferrets', I saw this holy prayer to all ye faithful to drinketh plenty on the wall.
Speaking of religious institutions, Dónde está Che Pelotas?
