Cruise Spots In Miami

Spirit in the Night

6:12:05

Montevideo Staying in Montevideo ... strange. I arrive here Monday night around 21:00, is about to get dark, so I decided to take a taxi instead of a bus to arrive at the Hostal reported in the Lonely Planet. I am well aware that at this time me and my backpack does not risk anything more than to shoot at three in the afternoon, however the case, perhaps (...) For convenience, I prefer to spend two dollarazzi for the taxi. The driver is initially funny: Let's talk football with great interest and asked me about las chicas italianas .. But then makes me angry. He pretends not to know at what height is the hotel on the long road Soriano (.. if I go to 1073 is obvious that there is still a lot if we are at 356 ..), try to waste time and traffic lights, looking at the various numbers civic. Mica me so I cheat! I am holding the map of Montevideo (also on LP) and annoyed the air show where I have to go saying "mas adelante mas adelante, por favor" with a clear and decisive gesture of his right hand thrust forward. I have never endured those who behave with me just because I'm trying to fuck a tourist (European). I know that many see the face behind our (necessarily) the effigy of bucks, but if you show respect and (as far as is possible) affection (As to any human being) and in return receive cunning .. bothers me .. I find it normal .. I also really do not seem to show the rich man who has come there to waste .. I see that are so ... ".. Low budget." He did not leave a single penny as a tip (from here it very often, even 20 cents of a euro is not just for them).
The hotel will cost more than twice as shown in the guide ($ 8 instead of 3.5), I try to go two blocks all'Hostelling International (should be 5), but for now it is full. Back to another. The lady at the front desk gave me a large room built on the roof (next to tanks of water) which is accessed by climbing up a long and ripida scala in ferro arrugginito. Sembra che l'ultima volta che una persona abbia dormito in questa stanza sia stata almeno 1 anno fa. Almeno... . Il bagno é al pian terreno. Mi sistemo un pó e vado a farmi il consueto giretto.
Mi siedo su una panchina nella Plaza Independencia, guardando la statua di un eroe nazionale (di cui non ricordo il nome...) sul suo cavallo. Mentre uomini e donne di tutte le etá mi passano davanti, tutti con i loro mate e termos in mano, penso a quel personaggio a cavallo.. Se hanno messo la sua statua nella piazza principale, che tra l'altro si chiama "Independencia", avrá fatto tanto per questo popolo.. normale no?? banale.. ..non é una osservazione particolarmente arguta.

Ma che fine fanno these characters in our Western cultures? What of the story in our cursed Western cultures? What place is reserved in the memory more and more individualistic cultures? There was a beautiful phrase written on the wall of the waiting room of the bath in the South, a cultural circle in which I spent the nights between 21 and 23 years. Often happened to wait for some other young man gets rid of excess fluid, so ', sometimes a little brilletto, if nobody was in line with which to say a few crap, I used to admire that sentence. He said something like "Memory is the first civil liberties, you can just dominate people without memory." But we ... We are free? We have a memory? We are a people? I always thought that Italians are still a great nation, or at least have a duty to be. Where is the problem then? I do not know ... but I feel people only during the World Cup or European football. Where are we, the Italian people? What are we to make of our history? We learn from our history? Why all these saws mental, not too useful? Because I happen to think, in this pre-Christmas atmosphere, that prior to December 25 is coming on 12. For the history of the Italian
dodicidicembre was "the day of the massacre of Piazza Fontana". From "day of the massacre of Piazza Fontana" Our story has changed .. Imagine you explain (if you ever faced the problem) your storia (se la sapete, se ve l'hanno insegnata a scuola, se almeno un poco vi interessa) a un bambino, a uno straniero: che importanza ha avuto il 12 dicembre, in tutto quello che e´successo dopo??? Beh.. la storia italiana é riuscita nella straordinaria impresa di non mettere mai fine alla vergogna. Il 12 dicembre é cosí diventato "il giorno della vergogna". Nessun altra parola mi viene in mente per definire l'avvenuta istituzionalizzazione (vedi sentenza definitiva della Corte d'Assise di Milano) di un concetto tanto tremendo quanto fottutamente attuale e tangibile.
Il concetto che a pagare non siano i colpevoli ma le vittime. Non é forse cosí???? a pagare non sono sempre i piú deboli?? Non é forse true that most are honest, you have more chance to take in the ass? There 's some guilty paying for the injustices that is subjected to other human beings? From boy daily conned by tim or Omnitel or checazzoneso, the African peoples who see themselves die because there is someone who does not want to give vaccines because they want to earn more and more ... (I apologize for the disrespectful approach but need to make it clear that there is an invisible thread that binds all quetso).
Piazza Fontana was a symbol, as the process itself is a symbol .. in any community. The symbol of the symbol says that the dead are members of their families to pay. Shame shame. But the point is right here. The shame is essential, we need if we are to our history, our memory, our freedom. Without feeling shame for these things there can be no future for our people. Shame then. December 12 that becomes very "day of shame" .. for all of our injustice, our shame (which are many, many).
E 'NECESSARY because Italy-finally-"is destined."

the evening I start to listen to quiet music room, a bit of acoustic recordings of Mr. Springsteen's last tour (above all, Tougher Than The Rest of Milan, Tuesday 07:06:05), having lit a small lamp on the bedside table . At one point the lamp burns out by a grand slam. PPAAMM!. All dark. And 'perhaps the time to sleep, I remove the earphones from his ears (small speakers that I had promised myself to buy I have not bought yet) and goodnight. ... Goodnight!?? While I sleep I am awakened again and again by squeaks, pops (leading to drop something on the ground) and some small steps that stop just turn on the light (the great) and then start over again becomes black when it all black. I know what you think some mischievous player ... Rigiuro and I swear that I did not drink one beer and certainly not-I would say the mothers, "Spinelli".
The truth is that I'm shitting below. Here is something animated, can not be only moths or mice .. I hear footsteps and Robin fall to the ground and then I can not wait. I'm seriously tempted to go down and ask to change rooms ..
and if you follow me?? if I understand fear and then starts to make me the "mischief"? I could talk I would tell him that I will not bother .. and apologize for the intrusion into its habitat. Really: I'm afraid. But I do not want him to understand. Then I get back my headphones in my ears, I do not want to hear. Get back to sleep. But the music ends. And I wake up, yet something that falls to the ground and those still crunches that follow a direction unknown, but never in one place. Another CD, another snoring (everything inside the sleeping bag with just his nose out). Dawn breaks, la luce. I rumori man mano diminuiscono. E' andata.
La mattina sono un po' piu' tranquillo, penso che alla fine mi ha sopportato, se non gli fossi stato simpatico me l'avrebbe fatto notare. Vi assicuro che non mi capitano spesso queste situazioni (o paranoie..) ma stavolta veramente mi son cagato sotto. Rimetto a postissimo la (sua) stanza faccio lo zaino e ...ciaobbelli!! me ne vado all'hostelling international.
Verso mezzogiorno passeggiatona ( piu' di 3 ore..) su tutto il lungomare di Montevideo. Al ritorno ho il coppino e il frontone croccantissimi e violacei. Gia' non posseggo un folto pelo, poi il giorno prima di partire sono andato a pranzo dal mio caro amico Paolotto (all'anagrafe Paolo 40, figlio di Maurizio 38 e Grazia 39 George and brother of 41 - a wonderful family-) I cut my hair almost to zero, leaving even more 'air my (s) time. For the first time in my life I buy an after-sun (sunscreen is not needed now more 'for nothing): But what the hell is it?? How much they spend on the sea for all the girls' ste crap?? Boh !?!?!
I'll be back in the hostel, I shower, I impomato, I do good and go to the place where I had breakfast in cuiil owner told me that I could have seen Milan-Shalke 04: if Milan does not win and 'out of the cup. Stan by seeing the whole (including the game inutilissima, both equipos already 'qualified) .. Milan are not there '. Should I wait for delayed tonight. Other ride e. .. I bump into something?? In a small demonstration against the new laws that reduce or even eliminate the hours of school geography dall'orario ... But are you?? Even here?? In Uruguay?? (Nb URUGUAY ...) Raga: Son of your! I speak with some 'professors who really do not credonpo when I say we pass the same in Italy. I really do not believe it! Just seeing how it warms me arguing my ideas are starting to think that we have. Ma. really ... how the fuck 'and may in the XXI century, in the middle age of globalization, someone (dramatically with government posts) can only think to remove the geography courses offered by the new generations? And the story without explaining how the geography? (Note the importance of the story .. see above) I can always learn the boys through football .. but the ladies?? What awful arrogant man and can 'expect to feel the geography (and knowledge then the world that hosts us) something superfluous? He personified by our minister Letizia Moratti. The one that always wishes to children of being "protagonists".

That 'one thing that pisses me off bad: The protagonists of that?? The protagonists of that?? Every time I hear that word I say is an irresistible urge to punch into that little mouth rificcargliela Cock! Is destroying our great and glorious public school, taking care to make players even more than good people. Your child what you wish it? to be a leader or being a good person?? And 'the emblem of the protagonist who hate culture. And look at them the protagonists of our year! Winning, instead sopraffarre educate, to live with. I will not even imagine if he becomes mayor of Milan.
The event goes quiet, we will be more than three hundred, they treat me just fine, even I hold a banner start. Actually, this and 'a task reserved for "young" to "quatrains" (as they were called to the grammar school) in Italy is not' particularly coveted by the big boys (who are well-known politicians- unless there is a great lady tivvu 'to take-or foremen of the various collective). This time I'm extremely proud. All

'first loss last night of the match for Milan. I'm going to a restaurant near the hostel. Note that in Montevideo in the evening I go to see Milan and 'However examples of the fact that here is not' I have found a particularly "friendly" now and frankly I do not have the whole 'is willing to go to a beer berm alone .. Only just decided to stay with my Milan.
I order a beer (here and 'one-liter, big brothers Latin!) And a' salad, placed me high in the table in front of the TV and I taste the game in the middle of tables of people indifferent. On the second goal from Kaka '(the 3 to 1) explode. GGGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLL !!!!!!!! you '! fuck! you! From milan! come on!! SSSSIIIIIIIIIIIII !!!!!!!!! At first people look at me shocked (note the quote ..), then they laugh, I apologize for decades, in exchange I get a beer from a nearby table. Toast, the German mark another goal, there 'to suffer until the last but then' done, we are in the second round, back in the hostel, you go to bed.

Flatbed Towing For Sale

Vamos a la playa

Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay

05:12:05

Arrivato a Montevideo decido di tornare indietro. Destinazione Colonia. Lo so.. ho fatto una cosa stupida, o per lo meno non molto intelligente. No! ho fatto una cosa stupida. È stupido infatti, viaggiando con più o meno 20 iuri al giorno, spenderne 4 + 4 per fare avanti e indietro nel giro di poche ore.
Il bus che da Montevideo (ri)porta al confine, poco prima di Colonia effettua una fermata ad un camping. Scendo qui. Il camping è davvero carino, immerso nel verde, non troppa gente (per la verità non c'è un cazzo di nessuno, saranno al massimo 3-4 famiglie più alterttante coppiette) e dà direttamente sulla spiaggia. Mi informo sui prezzi: costa poco, il problema è che con l'affitto tent (I did not have increased from Milan), the cost would be slightly higher (seondo reported by Lonely Planet) to a bed in a habitacion compartido the citadel which is about ten kilometers. The problem is just that. What do I do? I spend a little more and stay here (spending more money if I wanted to go to town) or go directly to Cologne? I ask to use allla founder and director of Internet and go to the beach. It's really beautiful, I like the beaches of bad that comes with the green water. Maybe I only like the green next to blue. I do not know ... Every time I see this kind of scene I remember the green hill of San Sebastian on the Atlantic. I do not know why but I like tantissimo, "davero". In spiaggia mi viene incontro un vecchietto, inizia a parlarmi, solite domande (di dove sei, da dove arrivi, dove andrai, é la prima volta qui in Uruguay, per che squadra tifi,come si vive in Italia...), poi mi dice che non sono stato fortunato. "qui non piove da 6 settimane e questo weekend pioverá di brutto". "Sicuro?" "Sicurissimo!!!" come se gli avessi chiesto conferma del suo nome.. Detto fatto, lascio stare l'idea del campeggio (finalmente prendo una decisione... non posso essere sempre cosí incerto sul dafarsi) e mi dirigo in Colonia downtown, un delizioso pueblo di fine '700, tutto bianco, azzurro e verde con quelle belle bandiere dell'uruguay che sventolano quá e lá.
Arrivo all' Hospedaje Español, mi danno una bella cameretta luminosa da dividere con altri due, dalla finestra sul mio letto si vede un grosso albero e si sentono le grida dei bambini di una scuola che é proprio lí accanto. Sono giú nel patio, su un'amaca a scrivere un pó di diario e mi accorgo di un'euforia collettiva. C'e´un via vai di ragazzini dentro una stanza fatiscente (si scrive con la "i"??) sul fondo del cortile.. chiedo che succede e mi dicono che il cane (un dalmata) stanotte ha partorito dieci cuccioli.. Vado a vedere anch'io, tanto la madre é in un'altra stanza a mangiare. Sono infinitesimali.. piccolissimi... dovrei dire che sono carinissimi.. sinceramente peró mi fanno un pó senso!! Una ragazzina me ne da uno in mano e mi sforzo per non sembrare troppo schizzinoso.. é tutto rosa... mi sembra di avere in mano un rettile, non un mammifero!!
Conosco un mio compagno di stanza, un omone col pelo lungo biondo legato dietro. "chiamami Gringo" mi dice, é uruguayano ha 26 anni peró ne compie 27 il 15 dicembre. Beh!!! questo tipo 'e nato il 15.12.78: Live in the Promised Land, uno dei piú famosi concerti di Springsteen (San Francisco, Ca. Winterland theater), trasmesso all'epoca via radio da un'emittente di cui non ricordo il nome. Gringo fa l'artigiano vendendo collanine e braccialetti d'argento, non ha casa, viaggia da 11 anni. Sinceramente dimostra una decina d'anni in piú e quando gli parlo devo star attento guardagli not rotten teeth, every time I fall look makes a strange movement with his lips: I would not put him at ease. E 'was also in Italy, he met a girl in Fasano (where there is a squalid zoo safari that really deserves-five years ago I, Cascio, Maggi and we went there to do un'allegrissima Easter trip ...) . I ask him if it was in Milan and if he liked. "Shit! I was in Milan and I have stolen all the while I was sleeping at the station" "Where are you from?" he asks, "Milan." Exactly. It shows very kind to me and these days I spend much time with him and his other friends walking, drinking mate and talking more or less everything. I do know Richard, Piriapolis, that makes me see the pictures of his girl of 3 years is equal to Chiapasco Anna, a girl I had a pack in 17 when I was Hati, a few years ago. Ovviamenmte talk about football and I find that Richard's best friend is called "Maracana 2-1" in honor of the second world won by Uruguay's training (in '50, Brazil, to the detriment of the owners .. some Brazilians killed themselves after defeat). Now .. in Italy we are football fanatics, but at most we have cases of children in Milan named in honor of Marco Van Basten, or in Catanzaro, in honor of Massimo Palanca. Maybe I'm wrong but .. there's someone in Italy that calls for "Bernabeu 3-1"?? or "Camp Nou 4-0"? I think I really am is an example the degree of fanaticism to the calcium present in these parts ..

few days ago I was waiting for a bus station in Buenos Aires and all the television stations gave the game of Boca. There was a police officer (on duty) who looked up the game .. the goal is blown shouting "GGGOOOOLLLLL" very happy and has called together all his colleagues from every part of the Terminal there came running out to enjoy the replay. A beautiful scene, a strong humanity, but, however, gives an idea of \u200b\u200bwhat goes on around here. NO?!?
Despite the rain falling hard during the day, at tarmonto, here is a show. The sky is fire and all the clouds take the nuances che il miglior pittore non sarebbe in grado di riprodurre. Mi gusto la straordinaria potente bellezza della natura seduto su uno scoglio in spiaggia (sí, é un misto spiaggia-scogli) mangiandomi due empanadas e gustandomi una birra fredda. Mi emoziono guardando il sole scendere, pensando che di lí, verso Occidente c'é casa mia, tante persone a cui voglio bene, cosí, da solo in quella spiaggietta piccolina abbozzo due piccolissimi baci in direzione della testolina bionda di mia madre e bruna della mia sorellina. Non mi sono sentito un coglione o uno sfigato a farlo, anzi.. l'ho trovato quasi divertente.. tutto qui. Mentre l'ho fatto ridevo.
Torno in stanza, mi sbatto un pó sul letto e chi ti arriva??!!?? Urban, uno svedesone air rather unlucky. He comes from a small town 800 km north of Stockholm (...), asks me what I do, I reply that I'm going to eat and he says "Good! I'm coming with you.." Thus, dry, and without that I asked him anything. Right now buy points, I love the way you do, no problem. I ask him if he is fine to go to a cheap place where I had been the night before. His only question is: "You drink?". A yes, all decided, you put your jacket and exclaims "Com'on! Let's go!" pollicione up with the right. I like Urban. And I'm wrong
tremendously. A difficult night, I constantly find topics for discussion, it's all il tempo zitto con lo sguardo verso una specie di pizza tutt'altro che attraente. Fa delle battute (ne ha fatte 3) pessime che davvero non fanno ridere. Mi sto seriamente innervosendo. Sopporto a mala pena situazioni di questo tipo con una tipa (proprio per evitarle negli ultimi due anni saró andato a bere 1 birra con una ragazza al massimo 2 ,3 volte), figuriamoci con un quarantunenne svedese sempre in silenzio. Finito di mangiare lo strazio continua: vuole andare a ballare o a bere qualcosa fuori. Anch'io ho voglia d'uscire ma qui a Colonia sono due i posti dove si puó andare la sera tardi, non posso dirgli che vado a casa e poi andare da un'altra parte.. dorme accanto a me.. si accorgerebbe che l'ho gabbatto. Arriviamo ad un locale, lui -contento-dice who wants to enter, then I tell them I'm a little tired and so he says, "Okay let's go to another." On the way, if I stop, it stops, if I go faster, go faster .. I think at some point addirittua of running away after the first corner. I'm doing a kind babysitter of 41 years. We're going to get to the second (and last) disco, I'm pissed off black (I do not want to sit down to a atvolino or stand with 'this guy always close and shut up !!!), so I tell him that I go to bed ( I really regret, but no longer support him). He does what?? makes the injured, with air from above tells me "OK, then I go alone .." "Go fuck! Go !!!". Arrival at the room I start bed hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible .. and what happens? after-swear-not more than 8 minutes to reach. I pretend to sleep, luckily the next day is gone, I tell the story to Gringo and he laughs bad ...
Returning to the girls .. sometimes it happens to see some couples who are traveling.
Friday evening in a little pub to have a coffee berm in front of me a couple of Spaniards (have had fifty years) and a German couple (in a bit older). The radio would send a song by REM Automatic for the people, listen, listen-followed-by Vamos a la playa of Righeira. The Germans have been quiet for 40 minutes looking around, the Spaniards fought all the time. Begin immediately. He pours the beer, a little too quickly causing a bunch of foam, you alzndo (close to) the tone of voice he rears saying that glass with too much foam does not want it and if it would have taken him. He tries to say something and to avoid the girl incazzature (unsuccessfully-on the face with her) if he takes it and starts drinking. Before you leave what happens? They get up, has remained grounded in a glass of her, he drinks it. He had never done ... The woman began to scream (they all run) and starts to say something like, "What do you think, you can do so only because I am a woman?" He does not know what to say, she continues to shout in his face. But it seems possible that the emancipation women have to go that far?? The first thing I thought is that the girl was a lesbian angry with the world, then you could see he was still married (fedi..) Efratelli were not given the substantial dissimilarity ... Okay .. Cap then go behind what could be, but the fact is that I think about the question (emancipaz. fem.) crossed the line it is very .. I've always been an ardent supporter of the condition of reciprocity, I mean. If a girl I finish the beer (a finger, there was ... but it was full!) I mica me furious ... I do not know, maybe I'm wrong, but in that scene was, however, the embryo of a very distorted view of the concept of gender equality, or rather, of how long existing abuses objective should be overcome. That's it.
meeting another couple on the bus as they arrive in Cologne. Two Yankees, I ask what time it is in error and I see that neither of minimum effort to understand. "We do not speak spanish ANY" said a voice almost squeamish. Her on the bus (well-kept) reads a fashion magazine (in English) and put a towel behind his head to avoid damaging the long-haired blacks fragrant and just ironed, he (two tiny legs and a bust sculpted by countless hours of gym ) holds one of the most modern gadgets (like super super super PDA) and send mail all the time with a look so sad. In nearly three hours were not NEVER spoken. I felt a great pain to see how you can reduce the human being. If you encounter someone who has not the slightest intention to speak the language of the country where you are, almost certainly they are people coming from the States. That 's right. However, the opposite is not true: not all behave the way the Yankees. Jim, for instance, is from Oregon, we met in a little bar (beautiful, full of colorful naif style squares) and ate the same thing (burrito de pollo), I began to speak in English and liked to say nothing in English "I have to learn," he said, we talked a little bit of States, the terrorist George W. and rock and roll. Yankee was also his way of speaking English (As Mister Señor) and attitude (like the way she told the waiter that the rest was his), but you could see he was so ... "For good" open-minded, curious.
The burrito was scared, was delicious, the owner of the place very nice, I stopped talking to him until late. In theory I should leave the next morning at 10:00. I decide to stop until the afternoon, so potermene eat another lunch. (Yeah!!)
and Monday are at 15:00, I'm here in another small, sandy beach to take a bit of sun on the water in the past days. It is beautiful, the only sounds I hear are the sea, wind, birds, children playing in the playground here accanto e le voci di tre belle fighe che passano sul molo di fronte. Tra poco vado al Terminal dei bus, prossima fermata Montevideo.

P.S.

un grosso e caro saluto a Perolo Bomber

apprezzo lo "sforzo"!! tvukdb!!

What's A Good Salon Interview

Last Kiss

sulla strada per Montevideo 01.12.05

Ho appena riletto la prima pagina di diario scritta: non e' che mi faccia impazzire.. A dire il vero ci sono anche degli errori di punteggiatura, ma penso che la prima caraatteristica di un diario debba essere la spontaneita'.. mettersi li' correcting, adjusting, shaping, try to make sure that it is the most 'pleasant as possible would mean distorting it. That 's just the diary of a 27 year old around South America (almeno..) That-as they live, know, feel-writes. Nothing more '.
are by bus to Montevideo (22:30), second from bottom on the left (facing the driver) by the window. Upon arriving at the bus terminal, I thought of going to the south, Puerto Madryn, where in this period should start to see the whales .. There were no seats for tonight (there are 20 hours away), I changed my destination. I wanted to see whales, more 'than anything else' cause I had seen a subspecies in peimissimi day of January of 1998 by beach of Mondello in Palermo, would be a way so '.. meet again for something that 'inside me, but that' I do not want time to explain. I'll just make 'a few months with killer whales, penguins and sea lions .. Patagonia definitely time to go there. Actually I asked the fate .. I pulled a coin three times: a cross-ready the next day head-start for Uruguay. Three times, and 'come head .. here I am. Simple, no?
Well .. how to describe these eight days (or rather, eight nights) in Buenos Aires? Intense? Definitely. As mentioned previously, to live with food has left me little time to myself, 'was a great Cicero, Cicero but of those that I like .. He did not show churches or museums, no .. showed me the life (and what a life ..) here. E 'was really delicious. Some scenes: Thursday 24/11/2005

We go to the train station near his house (Arroyo 860) and wait for the train that takes us to San Isidro. The train has not arrived and as usual the line of people formed at the entrances (there are signs on the ground), just like every parada bus. It's really strange. You know in England or Ireland, when all are put in single file to take public transport (surface)? Here, the same thing happens here. But what the heck! The people here makes surfing on the bus (I swear, Sunday at 19:00 the bus were returning from a game for granted Milan-Siena football kind, third-league and each had at least a dozen young and do not you surf! not to mention what you see at night ..), go in the car as if they were playing the Playstation side of bouncing in the side, each bus earns for himself '- vying for those who arrive first at the parade, scoured and putting across -street, in4 be running, but ... to take the bus (or train) all in order of arrival ... Up .. objectively strange stride with the rest. If you put in order of age or height, I'd understand, I would find more enjoyable and certainly more Latin! Oh well .. Pardon the digression.
arrive in San Isidro, a beautiful neighborhood a little outside the (Baires is huge, and five times more Roma), Quadras do a bit of running (race but true) and we get from her dietician. These are 20:15, the sign outside says closing h 20:00. We ask (ask) if there is still time and the girl says that much time is something only the indicative (that's Latin ..). Food comes in, out, pay. Pays 15 pesos for a seat by the dietitian. Now .. Before leaving, I was the dermatologist: for charity, a nice lady, kind, for good .. for 20-minute visit, a recipe and a pimple (it) I paid 150 Iuri crushed. How many are 15 pesos? € 4. Now ... anything goes .. How the heck is this possible?? Can you tell me what you want "We in Italy, not in Argentina, "" Who knows that you went to the dermatologist! "(a normal girl, fairground)" shall be a dietitian in Buenos Aires "(with all that is thinner than 20 pounds and moves) .. Yes. occhei ... .. but 150 compared to 4 in Argentina 1 peso has the same purchasing power of € 1. I repeat: not 150 vs 50 or 40 or 30 or 20 .. 150 vs. NO 4. If you are okay cocks Your .. The problem is that my cock, even our .. there seems to us that there is something wrong?!? ... just a little bit ..
After the dermatologist, at sunset, Food makes me do a around to see the beautiful villas on the hill above the mouth of the river .. Beautiful: some are abandoned, others for sale, others live, to see us climb on the gates, look in the middle of the railings, trying to understand what kind of people live by the objects in the gardens .. Entranced by the beauty of those mansions, I seemed to be 13 years old, I was inside a book Pasolini! Hustlers, given to me by my father for 17 years, with everything that is not that I liked it a lot ..
After the ride, feel-Food to go out to dinner - one of her friends but says he can not move and reach home. When we got home we opened his father (she's shower ..) and keep him company while he eats, he had never seen, let alone me ... When she arrives in the living room tells us that tonight, however, must come out with a guy. His father, heard this news e vedendo le nostre facce, la sgrida e le dice che non ci si comporta così, non è buona educazione.. lei protesta per un p'o poi chiama due sue amiche e si va fuori tutti insieme (senza il tipo..).
Mangiamo (bene) in una specie di discotechina e ad un certo punto succede una cosa che -per forza- mi colpisce. La tipa (sempre la stessa, tale Brenda!) si macchia la gonna. E' seduta di fronte a me... con estrema naturalezza prende il suo tovagliolo di carta, afferra il mio bicchiere pieno d'acqua che avevo in mano mentre stavo bevendo, ci infila il suo "fazzollo di cartone" (non lo bagna, ce lo infila dentro) e prova a smacchiarsi.. Sarà che sono un pò snob, ma vi assicuro che prima di bere -comunque- ho pensato (ridendo) to what she had just made ..
The evening 'and then spun smooth up to 6, with me Board and that we did pull in half (at that time ....) by a small group of gay teens (Brenda & friends were gone in the meantime) .. When they have tried to take us to another place to dance we were able to return to independent thought and action and go home .. Sunday, 11/27/2005

Mary, the sister of Food, arrived this morning from Italy. Board to fetch at the airport had to pass by the house of his aunt at 9:00 to take the car. We woke up at 9:30 with his aunt, who incessantly intercoms. It pissed off black. He catches a good scolding, then we go towards Ezaiza. Towards
at 15:00 we go to eat in San Telmo, a neighborhood of a colorful and impressive vitality. It is full of children running around and you smile: really we're not accustomed to sharing our space with children (with all that we seem to be an endangered species, the system rejects them, which we are immersed inn- in every sense-), is a big shame .. and we are the first to lose. Siqamo in a delightful restaurant with nearly a dozen tables in dark wood, covered with some classic blue and white checkered tablecloths. Apeese the walls are many pictures in black and white, sepia toned other, depicting actors, dancers, tango, Argentinian singers of the '50s and '60s. There is also the photo of 'world champion Estudiantes 1968. Fabulous, and all faces are incredible heroes. Very nicely talk a bit with the owner reminding him that a year later they tried again but found themselves against the great Milan Rocco. Obviously I was not yet checked out on this world, but that victory, however, I feel. The great power of football .. Between bife de chorizo \u200b\u200b(or lomo, I forget), Food and Maria begin to "discuss" about their father (long since separated from his mother), defending him, you attack. I am there in the middle .. In theory, the fact should have at least embarrass, to be honest but I felt calm. I found the picture almost normal family (Fortunately I have not had these problems), because of their affection for words transpired both parental figures. Before leaving for a month I did practice with two lawyers (female) Crasti really dealing with family law. Although in no time I had the opportunity to begin to understand the absolute difficulty diriuscire to lead in terms of right or wrong behavior of both parents. At the same time, the undeniable disadvantages and difficulties that inevitably reflects on the children (especially children). I realize star oversimplifying the issue, but I think so, there is nothing to do .. When two people are separated and have children .. these are ultimi le figure deboli, é a loro che deve correre il primo pensiero di quelli che comunque rimarranno la loro mamma e il loro papá. Ogni tanto i genitori sono capaci di capire la situazione, altre volte si comportano come adolescenti che tramite i figli si fanno i dispettini l'un l'altro. Non so perché dico tutto questo.. Sí, fgorse per spiegare il grado di (triste) normalitá ed ineluttabiltá di certe situazioni.
Finito di mangiare andiamo su una terrazza a berci un mate. Fa un caldo torrido, é come se ci fossero 40° (io tra l'altro.. non soffro il caldo.. no..). Sudo (strano!!) ininterrottamente per 2 ore, vado almeno 7, 8 volte in bagno a darmi una sciacquata, anche se ció mi da sollievo per pochi secondi, No more. In this situation of apparent difficulties come two French (one of which, Sylvie, pretty and a great way to do) and a beret (this Andreu, very sympathetic). Arrives Munir, a typical Argentine gnoccone like the ugly Italian (high, thick, black hair, sculpted abdomen, tattooed, a little "alternative"), a type that when I arrived I see every day and with whom there decisamenmte "buena onda". They all seem a bit worried about my state (think of being at a table with a guy that very red sweat gutter), change 2 or 3 times table in search of a shadow or a wind that is not there, then go home of the two Frenchmen. It is delicious: 2 small planes, a small patio with a hammock, all colored and a level of hygiene that borders on zero. I do not have time to compliment, saying "lindissimo!" Which is a cockroach than a pound on the foot of the girl starts screaming like a madman. Now ... Shit! But if you stink beetles (there are so many crushed here and there), keep the house clean, do not say-but at least decent ... and I assure you that I'm not a maniac order. We look forward to talking about all evening (South America, manu chau, bush, recipes, terrorism) and drinking beer with everything that I, sitting on the floor leaning back on his hands, I was careful to prevent further incursions "enemy."
I did not think this was a situation of "extreme" but surely .. so .. remarkable, really. Monday SREA instead I saw something far more "hard". I am in a beautiful and large house on Avenida de Mayo, where he lives an unknown number of boys and girls (at least a dozen). It's got to open up a girl with a vibrator stuck in his belt fluorescent (the show me and Vitto fun!). Loud music, three girls who dance by themselves, kids who have now taken the shape of the sofa where they may, chico sleeping naked on a hammock stretched to high ground in a balcony, Munir (guest) on a mattress on another balcony, a guy staring thirty-nine, in a destroyed room, which two years trying to build a new tool musicale (per farmelo sentire si mette a suonare "la partita di pallone" di Rita Pavone!!), altra gente sbattuta qua e lá e intorno e per terra una miriade di bottiglie vuote, cicche spente, vestiti, giornali vecchi e cd's... Non mi ha mai dato fastidio il casino, peró per spiegarmi, mi fa un certo effetto vedere la gente che scenera per terra in casa propria. Detto questo, devo dire che sono stati gentilissimi con me, mi hanno offerto mate e gelato e mi hanno datoanche qualche utile consiglio su dove andare.. purtroppo il prox 7.12 fanno una festa in casa (mi ha detto Vitto che sono memorabili), non ci saró... si fanno chiamare "la familia de Mayo", sicuramente me li ricorderó!
Martedi 29.11.05
Il caro Vitto, .. he always decides to make an Italian dinner at home. Menu: bruschetta, pizza, pasta, fruit salad. We will be twenty: over AluI and his sister, Munir involved (always a good mood), Andreu, Laura and Christie (a colleague of his internship with Nación), the sister of Christie (in the good food is in love), Laura ( a friend of Laura-sorry ilgiuoco of words), John (a director of photography who emigrated here from Italy in search of work), Loli (Dining with a girlfriend of a bad ass!) and some guys family de Mayo. It's a little effect to see them in a luxurious and clean apartment. I say clean because there's even a lady who comes every day to make housekeeping. is really very nice and polite, with an elegance all of South America. Last Saturday I got up there and Dining late (after the first Pearl Jam concert, we went for a drink first, then-at 4:20 - we went to a university party) and we were not in form .. had to see his face, told us "do not worry! I've done 4 last night" .. The strange thing is that the lady has at least sixty years ... the Tornado familia de Mayo, it must be said however that none of them seem out of place: there is a wonderful atmosphere. You can dance good and very much appreciated (!) Music (one of my last compilation, made known a girl for a dinner in Amsterdam during un'indimnticabile vacanzina in camper con "i ragazzi"), si scherza, alcuni ci provano con le tipe, si ride (...), si beve (tanto). Ad un certo punto mi ritrovo a parlare con Andreu della situazione nei Paesi baschi: in poco piú di mezz'ora ci facciamo fuori bicchiere dopo bicchiere 2 bocce da 1 litro di cerveza. É fatta (..."É".., siamo..). Una ragazza dell'Avenida de Mayo prende la chitar5ra e inizia a cantare una spassosissima versione di Let it be adattata a Guia T, la guida tipo stradario di Buenos Aires, e qualche canzone dai ritmi sudamericani. Dato che l'atmosfera é decisamente allegra, non so come, iniziano a prendermi per il culo per la mia passione per Bruce Springsteen (Vitto ha fatto l'infame..). Porca Vacca!! anche a piú di 10000 km di distanza!! Le battute si sprecano, fino a darmi del "fottuto yankee" (...a me?!?!), poi sempre ridendo (ancora per colpa di Vitto) mi danno la chitarra dicendomi di suonargli qualcosa del "Boss, Yeah!!" (facendomi anche le smorfie e canticchiando Born in the U.S.A.). Ho avuto uno scatto d'orgoglio.. di brucie non ci ho suonato nulla peró facendo qualcosa dei Pearl Jam e dei Creedence ci siamo divertiti facendo e ripetendo mille volte i ritornelli.
La situazione si é fatta via via piú allegra con gente che faceva flessioni sugli stipiti delle porte, altri che facevano la candela contro il muro (in maniera assai goffa), gare di capriole, tipi (Giovanni in particolare) che facevano sempre with the most beautiful girls, someone tried to play hide and so much good humor. At about 3:00 then we went out ..
Really ... a nice night.
Ps pity that the pasta with saffron and zucchini, which was to be the highlight of the evening, so too did suck too salqata. ... No! I was not put salt IOA!

Tomorrow I will wake up in Uruguay (no! I will wake up the police at the border), surely will be different .. a little more travel, a little less holiday.

Ah! Pearl Jam did not Baba'o 'Riley .. The concerts were amazing, the stadium was packed and behind the stage (put on the long side of the field) were of high residential buildings on the balconies where there were whole families who were dancing, you know those few stadiums in Italy where there are houses around where people watch the games? I like to go crazy, let alone here with Pearl Jam playing! Below, the lawn was a pit ... but a real pit, energy much! The second day, there in the middle, while Jeremy, I had low blood pressure do not know what caused .. I went down in a tooth that was hurting and I started to preoccupation. I went to get a sandwich and a Fanta and I reached back to others. Two days later I went to the dentist who told me not to worry that there was nothing wrong .. So I can also say that he went to the dentist Buenos Aires!

Last Kiss ... why? Why Pearl Jam have played as the first and the second night of a concert began with the same version CASTILLAN shot a thousand from the speakers (a bit like Once Upon a Time in the West before the entry of the E street in Milan Saturday, June 28, 2003). Last Kiss is a song from the early years of the Cochran sixty (perhaps '58) and although the text has nothing to do, qundo that night, I heard it was a bit like a premonition. A necessary condition for living up to, as hard as possible and without regrets, this trip. One last, small and affectionate kiss and fell into another unknown in the world. Forse viaggiare insegna anche questo.

Uruguay.. I'm comin' on to you!!