The logic of Spanish thirsty Zorros

Plasencia, 23 Okt. 2012.

No idea what  I am doing here in the kingdom of the former Conquistadores who had high hopes of getting rich in what is now considered Latino America, Central America and the Mexican homeland of the Peones, trying to check on my E-mail in bars where the computer is slower as my poor legs can do the job on my bike going uphill and strong wind in the face, darker hellholes than the backside of a black rat, the ground covered in empty sugar bags and sigarette buts, locals getting drunk on Damm beer and Estrella brew, strong Espresso cafe in the morning followed by red wine to start a easy day... well not for me, uphill and wind in the face it will be again for another day, unwashed underwear covering my Gringo ass and sweaty socks sumping in my sneakers all day.

Sleeping at night in the forest with local Zorros checking out my empty beer cans for possible nutricious contents, or else they too just wanna get smashing drunk - Borracho as they call it here - before retiring to their burrows come morning, probably wondering what in the name of the Zorro species´ equivalent of God a human being is doing here, enduring the hardship of Spain´s enterior instead of enjoying the loving administrations of Thai Hot Mommas...

No cheap contacts with those Isan ladies of the notorious Thai nightlife but rain and, or burning sun pestering my existence here on my Kross bicycle while I struggle up steep hills, trying to survive chilly nights wrapped in a thin blanket that tends to fall apart more every night I enroll it on top of my sleeping mat, also falling to pieces more every passing day, , just the way I feel like falling apart each morning waking up in my little tent, shit...seriously wonder if this dirty blanket will continue serving me more or less well untill the end of this month, never mind the other two weeks into november before hitting the Catalaunya capital...

Every minute of my cycling hours damning myself to burning hell and beyond for having chosen this nutcase hardship...yeah, these nighttime visitors to my tent, Spanish Zorros attracting by the strong stale smell of Damm beer are right....I am a human being living in the not so rich West where comfort and an easy life are still a serious option, where one does not to endure the harsh reality of the outside life the way they have!!!

The logic of Spanish Zorros is irrefutable!!!