tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5835300139338440832011-09-08T19:39:02.715+02:00PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.comBlogger291100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-41146129826486951182010-05-02T18:34:00.004+02:002010-05-02T22:34:35.320+02:00

Era, en el pueblo de Olen, una venta con buena cerveza, fresca, de sabór equilibrada, con cuerpo, de corazón, ni edulcorada, ni de demasiada amargura...Flamenca...Imperial...claro, ¡una cerveza varoníl! Carloquinto ("el nuestro"- nací en Gante en el 1.500- emperador de varias tierras ademas de rey, por ley, de España), era nuestro Señor de caza en esas tierras de la "Campina" de la provincia de

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-5315846706739729582010-04-20T18:29:00.000+02:002010-04-20T18:29:05.313+02:00

¡Ni hablar! No es que dejaré mi blog, en el sentido de abandonarlo, de acabar con mis enlaces con el mundo detras de los muros de mi habitación. No, por cierto pienso seguir a blogear. Pero hubo demasiados problemas meramente "técnicos". Por ejemplo, ya no puedo enlechar en mis entradas enlaces, fotós. Ademas, es que mi identidad "Google" la hizo con la computadora de mi puesto de trabajo,

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-91969199990788880902010-04-07T17:46:00.006+02:002010-04-08T11:12:22.331+02:00

El 12 de Marzo del 2010 murió en Valladolid, su ciudad de siempre, Miguel Delibes. Hubiera querido, como me parece de costumbre en España, aplaudir al salir su cuerpo enferetrado de la iglesia. Y llorar, pues nosotros, flamencos, no somos Españoles. (¿Lloran ustedes?) Ofrezco mi respeto y comparto mis sentimientos más profundos con los Españoles y todos otros para quiénes el idioma castellano,

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-19458753371129621242010-03-25T18:20:00.005+01:002010-03-26T11:40:53.955+01:00

Después del 30 de noviembre 2009, soy al paro. Es que se ha quebrado la empresa maritima en cual trabajé. El 24 de diciembre, un amigo mío, empresario en vinos finos, me regalé un viaje a Argentina y Chile: recto del cielo. Despues, por el terremoto en Chile se ha cancelado toda la parte del viaje a Chile, menos el regreso mismo por Santiago de Chile, obligatorio por compromisos con Air

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-45444860141364509842010-02-10T14:43:00.007+01:002010-02-14T14:54:09.263+01:00

Hace un año o más, ví a una pelí de dibujos animadas llamada "Persépolis". Se trata de la historia de una chica, la misma Marjane Satrapi, viviendo la dicha "revolución Islámica" de los años (a partir de) 1979 en Tehran, ciudad capital de Iran, adonde vivía con su familia, muy educada, bastante rica y de cultúra moderna, parcialmente occidentalisada. Con el adviento de la sangriente guerra con

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-91683288401517975702010-01-24T19:09:00.002+01:002010-01-24T19:25:04.163+01:00

La semana pasada, estuve en una quedada con españoles. En esas tertulias, mucho se dice. Encanto del idioma. En una conversación con algunos, decí yo algo como "hombre, a mi no me peta siempre hablar francés haciendo el camino de Santiago". Me dicieron unos que "no me peta" no es castellano, que no existe esa expresion. Estuve, yo, de acuerdo, pues...por cierto que ...no soy experto en el

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-18961998010690295622009-11-02T15:25:00.005+01:002009-11-02T16:40:08.408+01:00

Tengo una colección de sombreros. Ya de juventud, hubo varios sombreros. Empecé con modelos hecho de lana, sombreros de poco calidad. Perdí uno, un Inglés borracho me ladró otro. Aprendí a vestirme con sombrero, no es fácil, pues no era moda, y hay que aprender los modismos, las reglas según la "etiqueta", peor, los comentarios -a veces peyorativos- de otra gente, como "hey cowboy", o "

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-57054952089754549272009-11-02T00:32:00.004+01:002009-11-02T15:25:38.168+01:00

Digame por favor, ¿quién conoce su nombre? Pues, cuando la ví, era como un relámpago, el amor desde primera vista. La encontré -espiandola- en el Museo de Arte Popular en la ciuded de Mexico. Allí, hay un tesoro de todas formas de arte popular de un pais cual tiene su valor en la gentileza de su pueblo, acogador y cariñoso. Hay que decirlo. ¡Viva Mexico!

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-78802994017895991382009-10-15T12:21:00.020+02:002009-10-15T21:36:20.001+02:00

Acabo de descorchar ¡ahorita mismo! una Xampañesa de Geuze. ¡Salud!http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GeuzeSe trata de una verdadera cerveza tradicional Belga. Pero, ya le entiendo replicar, "¡hay muchísimas cervezas belgas!"... verdad, hay. Pero la mayoría de estas cervezas provienen del siglo XVIIII o XX (ummm...no sé si es "XVIIII" o "XIX"). La "Geuze" ya existía en tiempos de Breugel, en

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-17357834647057846582009-10-13T10:46:00.010+02:002009-10-15T12:19:14.255+02:00

Aprendí a amar el cafe por primera vez en Mexico, despues en España: el cafe con leche; me gusté mucho más su sabor que el cafe belga, flojo y en la mayoría de los casos sorbado por señoras con peinado azul..Durante años, me limité a tomar el cafe con leche cuando de vacaciones en España y, por el resto, soñar de él. Hasta el momento que tomé la iniciativa de tratar de reconstituarlo aqui en

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-14285072582071500362009-10-08T14:14:00.006+02:002009-10-10T11:41:43.435+02:00

Cuando uno se va de viaje, se toma fotografías, muchas... Hay pocas de interés; es que tengo poca afición al hecho de "tomar fotós". Si, a veces, hay una o otra que me apetece, probablemente ese resulta de un conjunto de casualidad, suerte y apreciación, calidades universales.Esa me gusta. Mucho. No sé el porqué. Pues, tengo cariño para la pareja real, no estoy burlandome. ¿Quién podría

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-33633224583854713912009-10-07T11:03:00.003+02:002009-10-07T11:28:17.465+02:00

Se llama Mafalda. La encontré en Pontevedra, en una bibliotéca; espiandola, después, reí abiertamente.Inteligente, dotada de sentido sociál, lista pa preguntar lo necesario para aprender novedades...muy feminina.Aún no sé si baila el tango (no se puede aprender todo en un mismo día) pero me parecía muy Argentina, pues me llamé "che", diciendo "no te pongas chulo, che".Ya decí que no se puede

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-44093180645620733342009-10-06T10:46:00.003+02:002009-10-06T11:17:18.033+02:00

Haciendo el camíno, subiendo una larga cuesta, llegabamos a una puerta donde un bar pa comer y tomar algo. Mis compañieros ma habían precedidos y ya estaban sentados a una mesa, entendí Pierrot empezando con "bonjour, una therfessa y un toníc" y yo, queriendo guardar la máxima distancia posible con Gabachos etc. me senté, a solas, a la barra. Pregunté al dueño, ocupado él a rellenar un tubo de

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-10308209865582135782009-09-18T15:53:00.003+02:002009-10-04T15:31:10.936+02:00

¡Hola tod@s!We (Pierrot and Bernadette -the French couple-, Udo -a true German gent- and myself) arrived at Santiago today, Friday 18 September 2009 at 11.36 hours sharp. In time for the noon pelgrim's mass, sung by the traditional nun and, this particular service, officiated by nine priests, including one Italian bishop (from Ancona), who managed to complete the ceremony without inducing yet

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-4106908975175253282009-09-13T13:07:00.000+02:002009-09-13T13:07:50.148+02:00

...consists of a multitude, a chain, of small villages being traversed by sheep or goats with bells around their necks and accompanied by upto half a dozen dogs and one or two pastores. Public libraries, if encountered, close at 13.00 hours, a time at which we are on the camino, walking. This to explain the reason why you haven't heard of me these last almost two weeks, weeks when I traversed

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-40635260849853815832009-09-03T18:03:00.001+02:002009-09-03T18:09:26.688+02:00

I wrote for over one hour today, and lost all due to some connectivity problem here at the albergue in Santa Croya de Tera. Yuck! To make it VERY short, I completed 150 k over the first 7 days of walking, and am doing fine except for a problem with a hurt little toe.I'll know more tomorrow. Galicia is getting closer, but still 380 km to go till Santiago.Greetings to all, thanks Ramón for your

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-23944766318174416992009-09-03T15:49:00.003+02:002009-10-08T14:32:24.497+02:00

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-61935004835883520092009-08-31T09:19:00.001+02:002009-10-04T15:32:48.812+02:00

Saturday morning, I took off around 08:15 from Calzada de Valdunciel. About five minutes into the walk, as I turned around to have a last look at the village, which is slightly sunk into a dip of the scenery, it occurred to me that I appeared to be heading back to Salamanca, but my wrist compass confirmed I was on the right track towards El Cubo de la Tierra del Vino, about 19.6 kilometers ahead

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-20036723578065616612009-08-28T12:59:00.000+02:002009-08-28T12:59:49.774+02:00

The church bells started tolling as I reached the outskirts of Calzada de Valdunciel, noontime. This village of about 550 inhabitants will be my first stop on the camino. I left the Plaza Mayor of Salamanca around 08:15, with the sky starting to turn dark blue with the early rays of the sun. Leaving Salamanca, through the Calle Zamora, from "glorieta" to "glorieta" (roundabout), past the Plaza

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-20983421896373154062009-08-27T12:06:00.000+02:002009-08-27T12:06:35.172+02:00

Here I am, seated in froñt of a español keyboard at an internet cafe on the Plaza Mayor of Salamanca. In the shade; the temperature is steadily climbing up the deep azul sky.Arrived yesterday, uneventful, had a few all too good wines at the wine bar I ended up finding again after four years of absence. After I got up this morning, I went out to the mercado municipal to stock up on a cortado

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-35956397114639864122009-08-25T19:11:00.002+02:002009-08-25T19:27:06.510+02:00

Ola amigos, vrienden, friends, les amis: "only tomorrow" is a very nice song, "we are the champions" another one; they both fit in the same sentence.I'm as ready as I will be, everything is packed (just a little overweight, 8 kilos excluding water but including 750 grams of nuts & dried fruits I prepared yesterday evening, my "safety ration". I'll go buy a dry sausage at a Salamanca

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-66214290156482101422009-08-23T11:32:00.003+02:002009-08-25T11:00:20.072+02:00

...Friday, 28 August 2009, on the day I leave Salamanca in the morning for a 16 km walk northwards in the direction of Zamora).High: 34° C.As they say in Spanish: uff...That first day, I intend to walk only up to the first village en-route: Calzada de Valdunciel (some videos here http://www.calzadadevaldunciel.es/?s=videos ) To reach out to the second village would add almost 20 km to that

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-46049000880561085742009-08-21T10:38:00.002+02:002009-08-21T10:53:44.671+02:00

After having walked two hours yesterday, I decided today that I wouldn't do any more walking until actually starting the camino next week on 28 August. As with marathon training, there is no benefit to be gained from "pushing the envelope" at the last moment. This is giving my tendons, stiff joints and muscles a break from the (almost) daily practice I've done since mid-june. There really is

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-38783587132179660972009-08-19T09:34:00.003+02:002009-08-19T09:51:29.238+02:00

I don't belong to those who believe things, events, matters are pre-ordained in any way. It's more a matter of decision, preparation and thereafter "a dime teetering on its edge" and, through the action of gravity, falling one or the other way.Talking of dimes (that's an American 10-cent piece), this morning -since I'm in Europe- I found a 5-Eurocent coin on the train seat I was about to drop

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-20044235613707977412009-08-09T15:27:00.005+02:002009-08-10T12:17:06.160+02:00

After having walked four hours on Friday, I decided to take it a bit easy yesterday Saturday, and walk only two hours. I took the usual time to rub talcum powder on my feet, and put on the two layers of socks, and then the boots. Usually, I insert small heel pads, made of some "elasthene" matter, but I decided I'd do without. Off I went. After less than one hour's walking, my right foot's

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-73723560748872466812009-08-05T14:49:00.007+02:002009-08-09T15:43:56.874+02:00

Click on the title to see where I trained today: the Arboretum of Tervuren.In order to prepare for walking 480 kilometers, it is imperative to engage oneself in a suitable training program. I found such program on a website dedicated to the Caminos of Santiago, and stuck to the application thereof. Today, some three weeks before starting on the actual camino, the program called for a 3-hour

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-8255605195057147592009-08-04T13:52:00.004+02:002009-08-05T15:48:44.516+02:00

I'm a hat collector. I have about fifteen. Western hats, you know, the wild west cowboy style. But also (mostly, in fact) vintage and new fedora's, classic "gangster movie" hats. And a so-called "panama" hat (all of them are from Ecuador). Real beauties. One or two a true museum piece (well, almost).As much as I'd like to take one of my more prized examples of the felt art, a month-long

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-26307683523529771572009-08-04T11:14:00.005+02:002009-08-04T13:38:54.234+02:00

The "Camino de Santiago", in fact a number of different "camino"s" (ways, or paths, routes), have, historically, been a factor of cultural unification in the Europe of the Middle-Ages. Somehow -undoubtedly by divine intervention- the tomb of one of Jesus' apostles ended up in Galicia; assumedly that granite slab floated on the waves. The religious authorities incited the faithful to undertake a

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-583530013933844083.post-6727880402836708362009-08-04T10:46:00.004+02:002009-08-05T15:55:13.864+02:00

So, I'm reviving my blog. I'm not much of a blogger, far from it: more a complete neophyte in the skills of rendering a blog visually attractive and, frankly, I prefer sitting in the couch holding a glass of good wine to typing away at the keyboard. I'm a regular follower of my friend Ramón's "pera limonera" http://www.blogbruselas.com/ through which medium -a blog- I have some contacts with

PabloElFlamencohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02641220080771231850noreply@blogger.com2