A Happy Swiss lady

Found this photo today In the inbox of my Yahoo account, a drawing I did for a young Swiss lady I met last month while walking the Camino De Santiago De Compostela...

Well, actually I met her in one of the camino's Alberques where she asked me to make a drawing for her in her travel jornal, offering me a free beer for my efforts...

Thanks for the photo my dear.

Cosmic coincidence

 Amsterdam, 28 Nov. 2011.
I seriously wonder if is cosmic coincidence when my house bell does it's well known double ring, proclaiming the arrival of Rob, The King Of My Toilet, just as Lola is out of her wintery garments and hopping around my house in her pinkish lingerie...another modelling session is about to be in full swing here...

We have just finished Kam Yin provided Nasi Special Pork, have opened a bottle of Beaujolais Villages Primeur, vintage 2011, already half way down our thirsty throats, ready we are for our favourite evening hobbies...

A bit like "Met Je Neus In De Boter Vallen" as the Dutch proverb goes, falling with your nose in the butter jar, having a lucky streak here for Mister Park Alcoholic...but no, Rob hardly pays nubile near naked lady any heed, quick introductions pushed aside with heavy stories about his latest visit to his doctor and his godammed darm problems, a big fat bag full with more take-away food, a bottle of Rosé table wine which he always mistakes for red wine for me, his mate...gulping down food by the spoon full with parts of tomatoe based Bolonaise dripping down his unshaven chin, staining his unwashed shirt, telling us stories how his doctor told him to eat good...

"When I eat good, my thin shit will be solid again", gulp, gulp, gulp..."nice and hard, once a day"...indeed good dinner table conversation I guess...

Maybe two bottles of red table wine

                                         Amsterdam, 27 Nov. 2011.

I know I shouldn't complain, not about the shitty autumn weather plaqueing my beloved Mokum, the shitty weather that keeps me inside the house where I spend the better part of the day freaking around with my acrylic colors, my paint brushes and the models that appear in my dream world...thanks to Lord Morpheus, the God of that limbo realm where the dreams rule the sleeping world of my excistence...

I know I shouldn't complain about my empty wallet with Rob, the King Of My Toilet where he needs to go at least every 15 minutes of the time he spends inside my house due to serious damage done to his insides by the massive amounts of cheap Appie Heyn beer he consumes every day of his sorry excistence, coming over tonight to finally pay off all his debts and a bottle of tasty red table wine as a bonus and "Muchas Gracias" for helping me out these last couple of months with free beer and 2 Euro last monday, 5 three days before that, ect, ect...I have given up counting all that stupid change he managed to talk me out of...

I know I shouldn't complain about the lack of models in the real world, not with Lola just on the phone, promising me to come over tonight with a take-away meal from the Kam Yin, Nasi special with pork, my favourite, and yet another bottle of red table wine...forget about her ex-boyfriend who was on that same phone last night asking me with a voice so brusque it reminded me somehow of the biblican Goliath, "what are you doing f*cking my woman?"...couldn't even be bother to get into that discussion...phones are there to break the conection after all!!!   

Camino memories, part two

Amsterdam, 26 nov. 2011.

Iré Donde Sea                          Go wherever you like
Siempre Que Hacia adelante     always go forward

Camino memories, part one

Tres Coasa Hay En La Vida
Que Precisa El Peregrino,
Buenas Piernas, Gran Comida,
Y Si Hablamos De Bebida,
Poca Aqua Y Mucho Vino!

There Are Three Things
That Make The Pelgrim,
Good Legs, Great Food,
And When We Talk About Beverages,
Little Water And A Lot Of Wine!

Camino memories

Amsterdam, 26 nov. 2011.

Tres Cosas Hay En La Vida                              There are three things 
Que Precisa El Peregrino,                                  that make the pelgrim,
Buenas Piernas, Gran Comida,                           Good legs, great food,
Y Si Hablamos De Bebida,                                and when we talk about  beverages                               
Poca Aqua Y Mucho Vino!                               little water and a lot of wine!

Back to my dream world

                                                Amsterdam, 25 nov. 2011.

It is still early when I wake up again to the sounds of the clans of starlings slashing it out in their habitual sleeping tree outside my house in the interior garden, before spreading out over the city in search of food, their bird poop covering the roof windows of the care centre on the ground floor of the crappy old house I live in...

I have a faint memory of Lola leaving the house for work, a few hours earlier, her feet hardly touching the ground, a bit like she was walking on clouds despite the cascade of Spanish Red Wine we consumed, modelling for me untill she could stand on heer feet anymore, the few hours of comatose sleep after partaking in the adults only game...

A big red lipstick smacker on my left cheek I discover while covering my face with shaving cream, the only proof she was real and really here, the paintings I made of her last night not out of my fucked-up dream world but a life model in my house...

Well, it seems obvious that today's portrait is the opposite, Lord Morphius kingdom reminding me of my imminent departure for king Bhumipol's Asian realm.

Lola on the phone

                                                 Amsterdam,

I guess the word is out despite keeping my cell off guard, no recharging that little wonder of present day technology, my friends and enemies alike seem to always know when I am back in town....

Lola on my house phone, wanting to pose little bit and make love little bit, reminding me of Tuk - my Thai lady friend from some years back - who had pretty much the same vocabulary, be it in part Thai English mixed with her native Isan Thai...me like make pose for you "leettle beet", make love Nit Noi and eat Mak Mak...

Well, I guess a live model makes more fun for the artist then one from my notorious dream world...

I this case I painted her protrait on a newspaper page, acrylics and a black marker....and the little bit of posing turned into a full night of modelling, drinking Spainsh red wine...what came after the modelling session is private!

Remembering Sud-Coreanas on the Camino

                                          Amsterdam, 22 nov. 2011.

Though my house might not held the endless Vistas of the Spanish Mesetas, the high Sierras I had to cross with my painfull feet and heavy backpack on my back, straps painfully biting into my shoulder blades, none of the rustic looking half devoid Aldeas where local farmers survived by a meagre archiculture excistence and a handfull of Euros coming from Pelegrino sweaty hands...still, it feels good to be back home, give my worn out body rest and relaxation, my feet the necessary rest, my mind the entertainment it was starving for...

So I did this beauty today thinking about all these Sud-Coreanas I met on the Camino these last four weeks, who were so keen on getting their portrait done once they noticed me working on my sketchbook in front of the Albergue's fire, drawing the old churches I saw during the day, other Peregrinos I met on the ancient walking paths and more of the same stuff.

Back home from the Camino.

                                                Amsterdam, 21 Nov. 2011.

The smell of Mary-Jane in its purest form penetrates my Gringo nostrils when I walk out of the Amsterdam railway station - nothing new here I guess, happens every time when I return from one of my trips - the Amsterdam main tourist attraction to be found all along the long strech of walking home, coffee shops on the city's Haarlemmerdijk doing a brisk business while I brave the cold and misty streets of my beloved Mokum, my last couple of km. before the comfort of my personal home engulving me, a last bottle of La Mancha red Spanish wine inside my heavy pack awaiting consumption...

Trying to concentrate on whatever amusement my telly will entertain me with while working on that La Mancha Spanish wine, trying to forget that superfatso in the chair next to me on the bus whose Gordiflon body occupied three quarters of my Asiento as well...luckily the driver alowed me to change seats and end up with a Brasilian beauty as overnight bus neighbor...trying to forget the Mosambique blacks chatting all night in Portuguese and hardly willing to stop despite several complaints of fellow travellers...openly discussing the fun of keeping these darned whitties awake untill the I told them Callete or slash it out with me at the next gasoline stop...

Trying to forget the sweaty bodies of a full long drive bus, farts and bodily smells playing havoc on my poor orafatory capablilties....

Yeah, I guess that one Euro Botella de La Mancha red wine was a great investment!!! 

Back home from the Camino.

Along El Camino, 19 days of walking

Villafranca, 10 nov. 2011.

The fire in the Albergue Municipal is hot and comfortable, my cheap wine from the local Supermercado is dark red and tasty to the palate, making me feel sleepy and pensive at the same time...

Small surprise after the longest day of walking yet, nearly nine long hours along highways and small ancient footpaths where the abundance of small and bigger stones was painfull my poor feet - nothing to complain about after two and a half weeks of daily walking these roll stone Caminos, slippery to the touch of my army issued boots, downhill makes me feel like I am risking my bones and even very life, but as I have said before Defiantly putting one army boot clad foot in front of the other, thinking about all these Peregrinos I have left behind, sitting on the toilet in the morning nursing the countless huge blisters covering heels and soles, toes and upper part of their feet, plasters and bandages drained in blood and yellowish pus...

I think about the seemingly endless vistas of the high Mesetas, the mentally fatiguiing feeling of small stone covered sandy paths, desolation and without a purpose...the enormous toll this takes on my mind and bodily wellfare...

The dormitories where fellow Peregrinos snore loudly, fart without shame and noisily turn on their other side in the bunk bed above mine...

The erotic images of ladyfriends and the sexual encounters I had with them filling my conscious mind while I drag on - defiantly moving forward - seemingly purposeless - my male equipment that normally is so quick to react to these sexually stimulating mental images, can´t be bothered anymore...I guess real fatigue is setting in here!!!

A little bit over two hundert kilometers remain...one more week of defiantly putting one heavy and painfull army issued boot in front of the other equally tired and painfull Gringo foot...

Along El Camino, 17 days of walking

Rabanal El camino, 08 nov. 2011.

I watched with interest how this young and probably illegal immigrant Corean lady is taking care of her landlady, her Jefe, a ninety year old grumpy lady who needed help being transported to the dining table from her habitual place in front of the fire, how Miss Li cuts her meat for her, aiding her spoon to her ancient mouth and putting up with all her whining while patiently preparing her daily medication, sweet talking her Abuelita and meanwhile giving me seductive smiles and her dark eyes shooting hot silent promises at me...

I was the only customer in their little Alberque just before entering Astorga, last night and had been invited to the old lady´s private quarters where she was brooding in front of the fire, warming her brittle bones, listening to her younger niece talking to her with unnecessarily little real inetrest, the niece who upon leaving whispered to me that Esa Chica Coreana that looked after her older relative with so much Carinyo should really have a man in her life...

Needless to say that Miss li came to visit me last night...alas, in my dreams anyway...

Last night´s more interesting social contacts of the more intimiate nature - alas, in my dream world, remember - followed me today while I, as always these past two full weeks, defiantly walked on, painfull feet and cramped up legs notwithstanding  

Along the Camino, 15 days of walking.

Arcabueja, 7 km. from Leon, 06 nov. 2011.

the vineyards and high tabe lands, Las Mesitas En Espanyol and many fellow Peregrinos behind me, getting into the tird week of my hiking trip, feet still hurting every days as well as my shoulders from the straps of my heavy Mochila...but defiantly I walk on, maybe dragging my dead tired body along El Camino would really be a much better way to describe it...

Still...getting up at 06.30 h. early morning, quickly packing my gear together while everybody in the communal dormitories of Los Albergues Municipales is still snoring away, leaving in the still dark Madrugada, my painfull feet clad in my black army issued leather boots, I enjoy the dead calm of the Spanish country site, listening to the world wake up, birds calling out to a brand new day, slowly getting into my rhythm and really having the time of my life...

Reading local newspapers while having my Cafe Con Leche in some obscure bars in one of these small Aldeas where most of the houses are either in serious situations of decay or carry a sign proclaiming De Venta - the crisis is hitting Spain hard I guess - but I drag on and feel really SUPER, painfull freet and semi-paralysed shoulderblaes notwithstanding...

300 plus km. left to Santiago and 12 or 13 days of walking before my Eurolines bus departure...

Along El Camino, 11 days of walking.

New types of technology to cope with in small refugios, never got to use a labtop with no mouse...still trying to get my blogging stories across and on the sacred internet...

Like the little plump swiss lady and her infatuation with me, pushing heR OVERLOADED BICYCLE ALONG WHILE ASKING ME : SIE HABEN TOCH NICHTS DAGEGEN WENN ICH EIN BISSCHEN MIT IHNEN MIT LAUFEN, ICHE HBE  DA IRGENWIE EINE BESITIMMTE BEGEISTERUNG MIT INHEN..LITTLE AND PLUMP, ONLY TWENTY YEARS OF AGE AND REALLY NOT MY TYPE, BUT WHATEVER...

maybe the fat slob in my refugio last night whose pants probably had not been changed for week, I actually suspected he even slleps in them as well as in his wine freckled, sweaty shirt, his toothless mouth sagging to the left because of jur of wine he would pore into his mouth while keeping an eartheware jug of vino high in the air upside down, one litro de vino tinto he could knock down that way he claimed and probably frequently did cada dia.

My feet still hurting but my head getting emptier by the day, running into other peregrino every day and really needing some serious internet access...but I drag on...