Trip to the US

I'm flying to the US tomorrow morning. I am really excited. See you on my return!

Love and freedom.

Festival at Royal Opera House

Last Sunday I attended the Deloitte Ignite festival at the Royal Opera House with some friends.

With glorious sunshine at the Covent Garden Piazza we enjoyed the Random Dance show performed by Wayne McGregor and his group of up to 50 London and South East school children. A group of special needs children took part in the show and its valuable performance received the most warming applause from the crowd.

Apparently the festival achieved its goal of attracting a diverse audience into the Opera House, many visiting for their first time. Amongst the crowds were young and old, families and even an A-list celebrity. Oscar award-winning actress Nicole Kidman was seen exploring the festival. I met her in the bar just to say "Hi Nicole, catch you later" given the number of times I have seen her recently: we are in good terms. :-)

Love and freedom.

Forthcoming trip to NY

I am extremely busy these days googling budget hotels in the cities I'll visit during my trip to North-East America. My auntie will have the pleasure of enjoying my daily complaints and my nightly snores. We will sightsee and shop around in NY, Boston, Philadelphia and Washington, for sure, and maybe will pop to any other smaller towns of the Thirteen Colonies.

My workmate D. is about to jump the pond as well to meet Middle America. He will set off from Denver and reach California after having wheeled through Texas and Las Vegas. I bet that is an exhausting road trip.

Love and freedom.

Chess boy

A freckled, black-haired, 5-year-old boy had his blue eyes wide open when his father brought him to his hometown's chess club. A back room at the local sports centre sheltered about 20 silent yet alert people playing chess. The boy noticed that everyone focussed on the games and ignored the shouts and cheering of indoors football players playing at the main court. Soon the magical atmosphere muffled the outside sounds and silence sunk in his ears: the boy didn't listen to anything or anyone. All he could do was seeing the chess boards repeated in his head: the image of the real board in his eyes and an imaginary board in his mind with pieces moving steadily but without stopping. That night the boy dreamt with being a chess champion one day.

I have played chess against my father since I can remember. As expected, he always beat me, but I didn't despair or get bored. I learnt to accept reality as it is and to adapt to it quickly in order to achieve my aims. One day, however, I found the way to make my father's king bite the dust. My father decided to sign me up to the chess club the following day.

The chess club rules didn't allow in children below seven year-old, but my father insisted and they let me have a test game with the chess teacher. I must have played a relatively good game for a 5-year-old kid because they accepted me and I found myself trotting to the chess club on my own every week for the next 3 years. I felt elated and grown-up during those short walks.

I haven't played chess since, but I'm resuming this old, wonderful hobby nowadays thanks to S. and A. Cheers, mates!

Love and freedom.

Request in Crónicas Bárbaras

Written a second comment at Molares' blog Crónicas Bárbaras, again due to a comment by Mr. Francesc. I have no personal issues against Mr. Francesc; in fact, I regard him as a capable, smart person and so I read what he writes critically: the same as I do with any other commentators as long as they are educated and well-mannered. I would ignore gross or ill-mannered comments.

Here it goes.

Buenas noches:

Aún cuando debería llevar algunas horas durmiendo ya, no quería faltar a mi cita con el blog del Sr. Molares y el subsiguiente debate entre Jeremías, Nemigo, Francesc, Irómeno y algún otro atrevido comentarista ocasional.

Querría leer la opinión del Sr. Francesc respecto a las afirmaciones de Irómeno. El comentario del Sr. Francesc está escrito en catalán (igual que Nemigo a veces escribe en gallego). España en un país libre y, mientras el dueño del blog no lo prohíba, cualquier comentarista puede escribir en el idioma que le plazca (a mí me gustaría escribir aquí en inglés). Sin embargo, yo no sé catalán (ni gallego) y me cuesta un poco de trabajo leer los comentarios en catalán del Sr. Francesc (y los de Nemigo en gallego). Si tuviera tiempo podría comprenderlos más o menos bien, pero temo no hacerlo con perfección.

Por eso les pido por favor que escriban en español. Obviamente esta petición sólo intenta facilitarme a mí la función de lector y los escritores (siendo personas) tienen derecho a no hacerle caso. Pero como lo importante es comunicarse, confío en que ustedes, que tienen la dicha de manejar dos idiomas y entre ellos uno que yo conozco, tengan el buen juicio de usar el idioma común para poder transmitir lo que quieren decir.

Muchas gracias de antemano.

Love and freedom.