Lilly, the curtains! On the street diagonally opposite are two magnificent trees, with a round large canopy. In addition, a small coffee shop with white chairs and red tables. It is 8.30. At the closed door and a large bag hangs with buns. On the horizon, the mountains, which are touched even by the low-hanging white clouds.
If you look closely, one recognizes colored cars, as they slowly drive towards El Paso. tiny, such as toy cars. The slightly larger car probably with artisans. Under my window in the morning bustle. honking cars and mopeds rattle past. Everywhere it's there, the Sun, in such a comfortable temperature even now just before Christmas. The slowly passing humans, acting completely relaxed, I still often encounter.
the Wanderer, with bags and backpacks. Not infrequently, the little kids are still asleep in her arms. The laugh, what in the morning penetrates from all directions through the open window, is simply beautiful. does not help, out of the house.
Not far away are dumpster. Prima I think, just like us, everything is separated. On the way to breakfast I equally take the garbage down with. Standing outside the containers and sort my garbage. I just want to throw it in the appropriate container, hits me a blast of Spanish content from behind.
There she is, with her vest in Orange, dark hair and looks at me with big eyes, as if I were the devil in person. Now is nothing to be done with smiles and English. From the mouse! She points the finger again angry at her watch and her eyes, connected with the word Police make me pack up as soon as possible, with the intention, to carry it into the house.
look only times on the Internet for clues. Again I get in Spanish a sermon, Right in front of me. I can only marvel. She takes the unsorted garbage bag out of my hand and down into the container. Unsortiert! Later I translate the finished labels on containers. Ok, she was completely right, it was on time too late. Garbage should be disposed of only at certain times.
In the following days I saw quite often women with the West in a bright orange, equipped with a dustpan and brush. In the morning they go through the streets and make sure that everything stays clean, even the leaves in the well water to be disposed of and cigarette butts is you rarely find in Los Llanos.
Slowly I go down to the Plaza, want delicious breakfast. The narrow street is lined with small trees and benches.
Right kindergarten, where sung and arrive the last stragglers.
Past a small fountain and a few meters, I am there in the morning bustle. Look around, if I find anything else besides the Eden. (It should be said, in Los Llanos, the coffee tasted me everywhere.)
A road I continue to stand at the black awning of Don Manual. Since I'm going in, Let me see, as the communication running. What should I write long, English no problem, Coffee and the remaining super offer. Also great fresh juices. Here I sit, drink slowly the delicious coffee from Cuba and think, if I want to live forever on the island.
Lilly let the nonsense. At the next table two men sit my age, the sure thought, I could not understand them. obviously German, they talk unabashedly and loudly. First, both boasting about the, what man so and it seems important, regardless of their own improvement needs in terms of external appearance every woman passing by is commented.
Until then a friend with his NEW comes, was previously blasphemed still busy. Suddenly calm is in a box. easily amused, go shopping, I prefer something tasty.
My path leads down to the small store recommended, run by locals, not far from the shoemaker in the basement.
The owner, them with thin braided pigtails, about my age and he did not quite slim, with a slight paunch. In light of the offer understandable. There, at the entrance to the left of this immaculate Saitling is admirable size.
Immediately clear, we need to get closer, with garlic onion sea salt pepper chili and a little oil. Hmmmm!
asks the lady behind the counter, if she can wrap it in a newspaper. Of course, I say, with pleasure. You, but that is not here, of course,. There are customers, they are afraid, the bad news be transferred to food when packing. Oops ... with a big question mark in my face and the unspoken suspicion, because I want someone loaded, is only a faint ... Really, my lips. She …. What do you think, so who buys everything here?
Uiiiii, slips it out to me. I lean slightly to her and ask in a low voice ..... What do you mean, when the fungus is sensitive, is it not better I read it before anything else, before I cut it into the pan? she grins. We understand each other. With a full basket I go through the festively decorated town. lost something in thought, I wonder, looking at my Saitling just, why people unreal focus. Possibly the escape from reality, Personal responsibility and concrete opinion?
In my world I'm just happy. Over my head the many LED Christmas decoration burning like fireworks.
Given how sober just my hometown is adorned, come me doubts whether less is always more.
Those who have only this saying devised? The streets in the village are opulent colorfully decorated. All spread Christmas, cheerful mood. The old laurel trees decorated beautifully red and green arches stretch across the road that I go straight up to my apartment.
It's getting dark and also coming from the beach, with light clothing and equipment go slower than in the morning. The lights in the streets burning yellow and some shops close already. The night comes, dinner is delicious and probably waiting friends and family forward to my evening Recall. Tomorrow I will welcome that sea and eat fresh fish on the beach.
Bay of Tazacorte, I'm coming! overslept something I open my eyes. It is not a dream, I'm in the middle of Los Llanos, on a world - heritage Site, surrounded by nice people, Water, Palm trees and a weather, how can it not be better ... The alarm goes off. It's time to get up, a blue sky waiting.
Through the white curtains the morning sun and a light breeze blew through the curtains seems. The day before I was long with Sybille and Marie go. I knew both of them from Germany and they lived here close to me now, was pure coincidence but simply wonderful. Sibylle worked in the center and almost knew each of the passers.
If there are questions, they knew someone safe, of someone knew ...
Marie lived just outside. Surprisingly revealed in the evening under the old bay trees an easy character of village. Die Plaza Espana in The Plains, obviously a meeting place not only for tourists, but also the center for all kinds of news.
They are reflected quickly and have of course, of course, nothing to do with gossip ... Maybe something.
Babies are always admired and the beautiful Spanish women showed themselves proud with their partners. sitting on wooden chairs, dignified elderly men, form next to the church in front of the wall of the adjacent building a long series. Older women, hold on to the benches in the shade of trees. It is spoken with neighbors, barking dogs, possibly one or the other newcomer commented quietly ... Young people sitting on the edge of the square on low walls. dangle her legs and her laughter flies through the streets.
It had become late yesterday, Marie and I talk over the course of the coming day. She told me where she lives, everything is easy to find. First off towards flea market, an old district, approximately 2 km. Afterwards jointly by bus, -Playa zur Tazacorte- A beautiful small bay with the lying near the picturesque village. Lilly…
All very simple, she said. You are then in about 20 Min with me, always straight ahead, You can not miss. As? The wide road there ? Exactly these! All sounded comprehensible yesterday.
Now in the morning I think, Google Maps can not hurt. If something strikes my phone, rather still record everything addition. So, Mobile, Banana, some water and the essentials, I'm on my way.
Halt, the list also comes with. Front of the house waiting for me bright sunlight with clear skies, it promises to be hot on my way.
Past, of small shops, just place their goods outside pretty. Employees, make their way to the job. Chairs and tables are directed noisily on the sidewalk in front of the café. Men, read the newspaper and women interrupt their daily errands short. Hola ... A short chat is always. Am very confident, Of course I find Marie at number 10. With this confidence I go first 500 m. Then ... The first turn.
diversion! Straight ahead there is not? Ok, what to do? Thank heaven, my list, bring it on. On what street I'm just? Nowhere a sign. Phone is in sleep mode. Helplessness makes just wide. A past hurrying Spanish woman with purchases can I say unfortunately nothing. A young man I ask, is also at a loss as the road just is where we find ourselves. a kiosk, Right in front of me. Fix rein, Info Request, before it closes.
I hardly want the Spaniard behind the counter, with a look at my notes, friendly help, speaks to me a German behind me at.
About my age, dressed in fine clothes, shall immediately assume the additional speech guidance.
Outside, he told me, he was already on 2. times on the island and be sure, to know the road. Right up and then 1. links, then straight.
Marie had not said anything of de direction of Playa Tazacorte ? So that may indeed only be towards the sea.. What will give me the? Then he asks, what I was doing so on the island, he lived in ........ Fantastic, now I run off by the nonsense to end! A polite thank you, again a bit high and not turn over the mountain. never really!
After a few meters I stop, He disappeared. Fast turnaround, then one of 3 Select streets leading down to the sea, no matter which. Presumably, it is needless to ask on the island after street names, Spaniards do not know which road they just run, because it is they probably care less and German think we know everything.
As Christmas holiday from Lilly continues you experienced at 23.12.19!
The first part of Lilly's Christmas story is here.