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.