This one was both a fun trip and an educational journey on the land of Camoes and Cervantes.
I beat another record, a strange one: by three times in eight days, I
came and left Madrid without seeing the city, spending a total of eight hours at the airport.
Lisbon will remain in my dream as a beautiful venue, with a fascinating history, populated by warm people.
Portugal, a member of the European Union, is faring dimly in net number, but Portuguese are content to thrive in a system that does not let the poor fan for himself.
Carnival in Tenerife is the biggest in Europe. No contest. But
comparing the local revelry of Santa Cruz with the greatest spectacle
in the world (Rio), or the largest street party on Earth (Bahia),
involves an intellectual acrobatic that only those who have not seen
both will go along with.
Tenerife, in carnaval kingdom, is minor league, a nice, wise festivity worth partaking to, a family affair filled with culture, where crime, drug, violence, and even shoving are no items. The police are invisible.
Being on Plaza de Espana, at carnaval, feels like being in a large
ballroom. Raucous hardly belongs there.
Puerto de la Cruz stages a daily show for the 30,000 tourists who
come to see it. At night, the party takes place at Plaza del Charco.
One more trip, one more thrill, one more opportunity to understand
and embrace different people, and fancy that we all are the same,
all in need to pour our hearts out, in a common windmill.
Hasta luego Iberia!
I reached New York at 6:00 p.m., on a 777 of Iberia Airline that flew
the 3591 miles between Spain and the Americas in 6 hours and ¾. It
took about four months to Columbus to travel the distance. It will take
5/8 second to my great great granddaughter to do it, via teleportation. So much progress in so little time!
If Haiti is my homeland, the world is my land, and Hackensack is my
home. I am back home; it is so sweet to be back home.
Until the next adventures, it was The Traveller.
(The Traveller, Tuesday, February 18, 2002)