correction:
at sea sound travels faster
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Golden Bb Desert Eagle
Spanish spoken in the Tokai wine route sixty Mario
After
few days in Budapest, the capital of Hungary, I decided to meet Tokai, a region that is internationally renowned, because since Roman times there is produced the famous "King of Wines." I took a bus to the city of Eger and there boarded a train to take me to Tokai, near the border with Ukraine. My friends warned me that it should be very careful in changing station, because otherwise you could end up in Macedonia and Romania, as they happened. With these recommendations, I boarded the train and immediately went to the driver asking him to tell me in every transfer.
An elderly man who had heard me and politely approached me drew on paper the seasons and stop times. In total, there were six train changes in cities with unpronounceable names. Most passengers were farmers, men in dark suits and women with scarves on their heads. I commented the old man so excited that I was a stranger and was going to Tokai to buy wine. All looked my camera and tried to read my pole that said Peru. Going down in the first season, bought cigars and old followed me. Trying to talk, but it was impossible. I did not understand a word of Hungarian, and he did not understand English, let alone English. I offered him coffee, but my "guide" preferred a glass of cognac. Took liquor in a gulp and said with satisfaction.
At the exact time the second train came and we went. Again the old man sat next to me, but this time we entered the smoking car. There are a rock band that was going to Ukraine. All wore leather jackets with spurs and traveled with her legs thrown up. When they saw us not flinch and continued smoking and strumming their guitars. The smoke was unbearable so we decided to change their car. After two hours we reached the second season and this time I bought a coke. The old man followed and offered me cigarettes. Again said he preferred a glass of cognac. Then I noticed that the old man had an inclination very marked by the liquor. And if this continued, would buy more than four cups cognac up to Tokai. But well worth spending, because the old man was very attentive and was telling me where to get off and when rise. Something that the drivers did not, for lack of patience or neglect. So, after inviting the sixth glass of cognac arrived at Tokai. I spent the afternoon visiting wineries and tasting the most delicious wines.
By late afternoon, after a refreshing break along the river Tisza, I returned to the train station. But the small streets of the city played a trick on me and did not remember the way back. Or maybe it was the wine, do not know. Asked some guys and they shook their heads resigned. I do not understand. I moved to a machine shop and the workers were laughing trying to understand. It was ten minutes for the arrival of the train and I was lost without finding the station. I asked several passers-by and nothing. If the train had left me to wait until the next day. Then I found the front door to a man looking to become a doctor or engineer, so I thought I could learn English. But did not understand. I told train station, railway, train and he shrugged blankly. He made the gesture of driving a bus and I repeated: No, no bus; train, railway. was five minutes and getting to know Europe's rail punctuality safest thing was that the train left me.
Photo: Toast Mayoralmas Hungarian wine.
After few days in Budapest, the capital of Hungary, I decided to meet Tokai, a region that is internationally renowned, because since Roman times there is produced the famous "King of Wines." I took a bus to the city of Eger and there boarded a train to take me to Tokai, near the border with Ukraine. My friends warned me that it should be very careful in changing station, because otherwise you could end up in Macedonia and Romania, as they happened. With these recommendations, I boarded the train and immediately went to the driver asking him to tell me in every transfer.
An elderly man who had heard me and politely approached me drew on paper the seasons and stop times. In total, there were six train changes in cities with unpronounceable names. Most passengers were farmers, men in dark suits and women with scarves on their heads. I commented the old man so excited that I was a stranger and was going to Tokai to buy wine. All looked my camera and tried to read my pole that said Peru. Going down in the first season, bought cigars and old followed me. Trying to talk, but it was impossible. I did not understand a word of Hungarian, and he did not understand English, let alone English. I offered him coffee, but my "guide" preferred a glass of cognac. Took liquor in a gulp and said with satisfaction.
At the exact time the second train came and we went. Again the old man sat next to me, but this time we entered the smoking car. There are a rock band that was going to Ukraine. All wore leather jackets with spurs and traveled with her legs thrown up. When they saw us not flinch and continued smoking and strumming their guitars. The smoke was unbearable so we decided to change their car. After two hours we reached the second season and this time I bought a coke. The old man followed and offered me cigarettes. Again said he preferred a glass of cognac. Then I noticed that the old man had an inclination very marked by the liquor. And if this continued, would buy more than four cups cognac up to Tokai. But well worth spending, because the old man was very attentive and was telling me where to get off and when rise. Something that the drivers did not, for lack of patience or neglect. So, after inviting the sixth glass of cognac arrived at Tokai. I spent the afternoon visiting wineries and tasting the most delicious wines.
By late afternoon, after a refreshing break along the river Tisza, I returned to the train station. But the small streets of the city played a trick on me and did not remember the way back. Or maybe it was the wine, do not know. Asked some guys and they shook their heads resigned. I do not understand. I moved to a machine shop and the workers were laughing trying to understand. It was ten minutes for the arrival of the train and I was lost without finding the station. I asked several passers-by and nothing. If the train had left me to wait until the next day. Then I found the front door to a man looking to become a doctor or engineer, so I thought I could learn English. But did not understand. I told train station, railway, train and he shrugged blankly. He made the gesture of driving a bus and I repeated: No, no bus; train, railway. was five minutes and getting to know Europe's rail punctuality safest thing was that the train left me.
Then I played my last card. I said with gestures: "No, no ... chucu-bus-chucu chucu, poo." only way I understood and could arrive in time to board the train back.
Lima, April 16, 2002
Lima, April 16, 2002
Photo: Toast Mayoralmas Hungarian wine.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Multiple Lipomas Removal Surgery
By Winston Orrillo just met. Completely rosy, and is dedicated to-and-no doubt exclusive passion: writing.
We can say that Mario Vargas Llosa embodies the dream of Mallarmé known that life fits in a book, you live it only makes sense, takes on value only because it is intended to enter the pages of a volume. Vocation as undaunted
had not ever been in the national literature, and there are only few examples of it in the ecumenical landscape of literature.
If we review the major works of Mario, from City and dogs, Conversation in the Cathedral , Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter to The fish in water - will find that in some more, some less, the author's presence nimba the work, or, in other cases, definitely the stars.
live to write, that everything that befalls one is to integrate a work: this is the desideratum of our author, who, on the other hand, there has never refused to live up to the stool, which call Jaspers extreme situations, but all for the purpose aforesaid. Owner
enlightened intelligence and sensitivity privileges, Mario, however, some rescued, in particular, the capacity ascetic cenobite for intellectual work, for the unconditional surrender to the realization of a work that is constantly won praise and not a few mixed reviews, because if anything characterizes our author is, precisely, its controversial status.
Nothing he says or writes can leave us indifferent. He specializes in cause our adherences on or our choicest insults.
Holder of large dams, it also has in his knapsack for Walker errors and misunderstandings that the generous wind of history will clarify.
is our most internationally recognized author (in life: as post mortem Vallejo and Mariátegui there are, in their centenary, they have caught avalanches conferences and symposia).
No doubt we will be our first Nobel Prize for Literature, a prize to be win by the tremendous effort to construct a narrative, without hesitation, paradigmatic.
El Comercio, July 1996.
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