Tenerife and the resolve of mine - part 3

Writing posts in three parts is kinda fun, you know?

There I was, in the middle of some city that is considered the capital of Tenerife. Santa Cruz was a warm change, especially the night I spent at hostel called Casablanca. Fortunately, I met a Spanish girl that spoke some great English... and a bit of Polish as well. She went for a student exchange to Białystok. Białystok! Even I didn't go to Białystok! Since I didn't have any better plans, I invited her to get some drinks sometime later. In response, I learned that she was busy. "Another time!" she shouted and left.

There rarely is such time as "another" time. Occasions and opportunities come and go in blink of an eye. I tend to go for as many as possible. I am easy to persuade to do ridiculous things. Sometimes it ends with giggles. Sometimes with losing control of my and other people's breath. A couple of examples:

Having my backpack trapped in between tram doors while getting outside of the said tram.

Or jumping up and down in the middle of a frozen lake and falling inside of it, just because I was dared I wouldn't do that.

Or chasing a cock (I mean - male chicken), that stung me with his mighty, powerful beak... ekhm... below my knee, so I would almost bleed out when I was maybe five or so.

Only once I landed in a hospital because of climbing and falling from a wall in Turkey that remembered the times of Alexander the Great. Doctors suspected broken ribs, femur, skull and, of course, backbone. I got out the next day on my own legs.

Most of the time, indeed I had more luck than brains.

This was however not the case when I decided to finally go back. I got my flight back to Barcelona set for 7th in the morning. I was running out of money, so I decided not to look for another place to stay for the night and to sleep on the airport instead. It all went pretty smooth, until midnight. I found myself a bench to sleep. Really cosy, compared to the hut on the way to Vilaflor or the beach in El Medano. I was woken up by a guard. He sprayed some Spanish all over my sleepy ears.

"Sorry? What?"

His accent even now makes me smile.

"Cloze. We cloze. Aeropuerto clozed four de nayt"

"Que?"

He misunderstood that as an invitation to switch right back to Spanish, so I had to settle him down.

"What do you mean?"

"Yoo go out"

"Why can't I stay?"

"Beecooze aeropuerto clozed"

Obviously.

Bargaining with him did not work. I had to go outside.

Brilliant. Exactly what I wanted from going to the airport - to be kicked outside in the middle of the night.

"Cum back ad fayv"

I did not reply to his tempting offer, just left to the parking lot, where I spent my third night in cold. But lucky for me, Sweden came to rescue once more to keep me company over facebook's messanger.

At fayv I came back. I just wanted to go and this is exactly what I did. Barcelona was so warm, warmer than Tenerife in the morning.

But it is still not the end...

When I finally arrived to Vic, I noticed more people than usual. I knew there something going on. Sunday evening's in Vic are really lazy. Usually, you can barely meet anyone on the streets. This time, it was different. After I saw some orcs shouting and grunting and swinging their banners, spears and swords and patiently waiting for the lights to change so they can safely walk accross the street, I knew this would be no ordinary sunday in Vic.

It was Mediaval Market time.

You may picture a "market" - some ground that would be made into a shopping area. Now imagine that the whole town traveled back in time. All of it. Everywhere, you would be passing by booths and stands, knights and warriors, witches and orcs, monsters and inquisitors.

In this case however, I only took my phone. And boy, does it not handle evening pictures at all...

 The only thing I shall describe is this olive tree. Hundreds of people would hang thousands of paper pieces with wishes they want to come true for the next year.

Get myself tired from traveling is what I like most. Altogether, I found everything what I've been longing for so long: meet an abundance of new people, even more fun and, last but not least, peace. These times I shall treasure for the rest of my life, that I am sure of.

What came after was crazy... I will just say that after three weeks of being out of university, I landed in the middle of exams. Long story short, in two weeks I ended up qriting or co-writing around 120 pages of assingmenets, from movie review, all the way to second chapter of my thesis. But I was all fresh thanks to my adventures.

I needed to get away. So I did exactly that. Simple. 

Tenerife and the resolve of mine - part 2

The thoughts of the night I spent on Teide in Altavista Refuge at 3250 metres were... liberating. It was challenging for me to get to this point. You already know from the previous post, what I was up to for six months to get to where I was. It all served a purpose much greater than just getting over the first love of my life.

I realized that all the time, it was about finding myself. Come to terms with who I became. Realizing what I feel. Understanding what I want. And find out what I desire to do in the future.

Holding a grudge does not get you anywhere. Nor does forgiveness for that matter. Its the purpose. Whatever it would be. However complicated or simple, expensive or cheap, short- or long-term, however fulfilling or dissapoiting it may be, it is the purpose, the challenge, the thrill that drives my life.

My resolve to find peace was a wonderful adventure. I was in luck to realize it, because the ice really did not allow me to go the peak of Teide. I believe that this is how most of our lives look like. We strive for greatness. We struggle to reach happiness. We pursue our dreams. And then, when the stars we were aiming at for so long seem to be just at hands reach, we just can't reach far enough.

But enough of my nirvana. The morning came and it was time descend.

Drying stuff time.

On my way up, I met a wonderful couple, Ilona and Benedict. We helped each other out in some difficult moments while climbing the rocky and snowy part, which was followed by some nice conversation in the refuge. They offered me to drive me with their car to somewhere by the sea when we go down.

After losing the battery on the phone, which meant no more GPS or Red Hot Chilli Peppers, we navigated traditionally - with a map and gut :). It got us to El Medano.

And this time it was more serious drying time.

After walking around for some time in El Medano, it was time to look for a place to sleep. I am a man of simple needs when it comes to sleep - no wind, a bit of cover of my head, as little light and noise as possible. I found some abandoned entrance to some bunker or something by the beach. Unfortunately, rocks don't make such a great mattress as the cardboard and carpet made three days back.

So it was time to look for something else. And boy, did I find a perfect spot.

This is one of the huts for kitesurfers. I slept inside. It was quite cold, but managable. As I said, I am a man of simple needs. The views of sun rising over the sea were enough to validate the perfection of deciding on spending the night an the beach.

I waited for some time for a bus and my last point was Santa Cruz.

Colorado, San Francisco... I guess this is the closest I got to USA so far.

And here I was wondering, how do the Tenerifians celebrate Christmas.

There is always something and someone waiting for us to come back. That is where real bliss lies - with people that surround you, I am grateful to my family and my friends, who never doubted me, although they would question my ideas. While they would never bring my dreams down, they would always show their concern. And as they were at it, they would show their concerns, followed by tenfold more support.

But, this is still not the end of the trip...