Corralejo, on Sunday night May 5, 2002
If you do not write because I'm not doing anything special or particularly interesting. It also helps to live in a confined space into three, with a constant guest.
It 's been over a month and a half since the last report and now I can say I have become someone I have the honor to announce it to be a receptionist in the 
best hotel in the north of Fuerteventura. I will not say the name within the search engines my site and make it look someone might find out that they are not here to make a career but to collect some money to spend in Asia. And 'what I want right now in Asia. Are being sacrifice, every time there is fine.
Just today I moved from Cotillo, where I was with Paul and Mario, in Corralejo 
where I'm with a girl in Valencia. Corallejo work and I was tired of taking the bus at noon to begin work at three or hitchhike incravattato Vallespluga as a representative of elves, under a tropical sun and wind deadly.
Think about that the other night (I had the night shift) I have an hour and a half feet in the desert at night, in a suit and tie and computers on the shoulders. Not even the Indian 
Juan Sepulveda has never done a trip like this, peyote
peyote, or not. And then, after a night of prints, clients, computers, sleeping, here is another hour and a half feet under the morning sun. Too much even for one who likes unconventional situations. Even if they start to repeat themselves because they become conventional.
But let's talk a little bit of Fuerteventura, the island peaceful. 
So, first of all forget the beach in the Mediterranean way. Here the water is cold and as soon as we enter the passes you want to cool off. Then there is always a wind of the Madonna.
The scenery is beautiful: the desert, goats, hills more or less sacred, complex six thousand beds with courses in construction. Not much to do. The ideal is for surfers, with or without wind, but it would be better for the average tourist who knew where it goes.
I like, but I miss the cultural aspect. It is not clear where we are. Spain? Latin America? Africa? Germany? London? Dunno ... you see here is just fine mass tourism: a slimy, gelatinous thing that slides on the places where it goes, it creates 
creeks, channels and erodes the landscape, without ever really fit in the heart of local culture. Skip, takes and consumes some items, and then goes away.
Corralejo, Tuesday, June 11, 2002
Ok, it is clear that I do not feel like writing. It 's been another month with nothing.
I did not do nothing but work in the hotel and my business side. Stories to tell in fact there would be, but who knows, you will not feel the road. It is shortly to Bali, Asia for who knows how many months, I will write here.
