Monday, 28 September 2015


“Attention everyone, the pilot is speaking…Unfortunately I’ll have to give you some bad news. We are experiencing some problems with the brakes and we will have to attempt an emergency landing in Gatwick Airport… I will try to stop the plane with the inverted engines. Please remain seated and maintain the calm, the fire brigade is already at the airport…”

Panic on the plane… Ricky and I could not believe it was happening to us. “Are we going to die?” I asked my friend. “I don’t know…” The passengers were terrified, some were crying, some were throwing up and other praying. 40 never ending minutes later we landed, the pilot managed somehow to stop the plane at the very end of the runway and no one got hurt. A bus took us to the terminal, where we waited two hours to get our luggage. “It was horrible!” I told Olaf as soon as I got home “I don’t want to fly again” I added.

In the evening I called my Spanish friend Ernesto, who told me that he was going to move to Berlin after the summer. “Berlin? That’s just where I want to live… How are you going to learn German, Ernesto?”

In August my company moved to Cairo and I lost my job. As I realized that there was nothing left to keep me in London, I put my house for sale and I bought myself the book: “Work and Study in Germany”.



Berlin < > Barcelona, June 2007, February 2008

I was happy and enjoying the sweet beginning of a love story with Sjors, when I realized that it was almost July and as every year in July, I had to spend three weeks with my parents in the summerhouse in Rosas. “Why don’t you come to Barcelona for a long weekend? I could book an hotel for two nights and we could celebrate your birthday there.” I suggested. On Friday the 13th of July 2007, five days before his 32nd birthday, Sjors landed in Barcelona for the first time. That day I woke up early, my mother gave me a ride to Figueres’ station, where I took a train to Barcelona Sants, changed there for the Airport express train and at 11am I was at the airport waiting for my boyfriend. Three days in Barcelona are not enough to visit every must-see, but they are sufficient to fall in love with the city of Gaudí. We walked through the middle-aged streets of the Barri Gotic to the elegant Plaça Sant Jaume, we crossed Via Laietana and followed Carrer de la Princesa that led us to the Arc de Trionf. In the late afternoon we rested at the beach of the Olympic Village and from the pier we watched the sun setting behind the dark silhouettes of the boats’ masts and of Montjuic. During a romantic dinner at a Paraguayan restaurant in Carrer Oller I asked Sjors: “How would you like to live here?” 

Tuesday, 22 September 2015


Muscular handsome and sexy as always, in youtube there is the new video teaser of the Gods of the Stadium! Unmissable.

and the story goes on

After leaving Merida, we spent two days in Campeche, the capital of the homonymous state. On my travel guide I had read that the colonial city was founded in the 16th century, as the Conquistadores had built their houses on the pre-existing Mayan city of Canpech. Our hotel was next to the walls, which had protected Campeche from the pirates and the buccaneers. “Iguanas, Mayans, Pirates, Martians… Mexico has surely lots too offer!” I thought smiling. On Monday Ricky and I took a bus back to the Caribbean Sea coast and we reached Playa del Carmen. The fishing town on the Mayan Riviera gave me inspiration to write this book. From Playa del Carmen we took a ferry to the Caribbean island of Cozumel, where we spent the whole day by the beautiful exotic beach and in the evening we visited the town of San Miguel.

The following morning we woke up early, we took a southbound bus and we reached Tulum, the pre-Columbian Mayan site on the coast. After visiting the main temple on the cliff, we went down to the town, where my friend wanted to buy himself a cap. I was looking at some postcards, when I heard a Mayan seller trying to convince Ricky to buy something from him. My friend did not give in the pushy seller and he bought his cap in the shop across the road, provoking the rage of the unsuccessful man. “Why did you buy it from him and not from me?” Shouted the Mayan ending up his sentence with some incomprehensible words, which sounded like a spell. My friend kept on walking and he turned his face from time to time to look at the angry man.


I heard and I saw Ricky lying on the ground unconscious: he had just hit the metal bar of the car park with his nose. “Ricky wake up! Wake up!” I shouted and a few seconds later my friend stood up with a painful swollen nose. A bar keeper gave him some ice wrapped in a dirty piece of cloth, which had probably never been washed and she showed us the way to the bus. Once back in Playa del Carmen, I took Ricky to the hospital, where we waited two or three hours in the Hallway between the kitchen’s, the bathroom’s and the X-ray room’s doors. Eventually at 5pm a doctor visited Ricky, he looked inside his nose with a pair of old fashion nasal forceps, he said: “No está roto – it’s not broken” and he gave him a box of painkillers.

We ended our tour in tiny Isla Mujeres and on Saturday afternoon we went to Cancun International Airport to catch our flight back to the United Kingdom.

Monday, 21 September 2015


At 10pm the Mexican man drove Ricky, a couple of French tourists and me to the ruins of Chichen Itza, “The mouth of the well of the Itza”. The moon and the stars were hidden behind the density of the jungle and we could hear the howling of indigenous animals.

“I will be back to pick you up at 1am.” Said Fernando before driving away.

There were already a few other people at the Mayan ruins. The guardian welcomed us and took us to our seats. A couple of minutes later, the show started and everyone stop talking. I was staring at the Temple of the Warriors, which had turned red through the spectacular special effects, when 2 men walked in front of the light projector and we could see their shadow on the façade of the temple. The show, the jungle, the music and the ruins gave a mysterious atmosphere to the Mayan site, the same place where human sacrifices had taken place a few centuries before.

Ricky pointed at the sky and he showed me eleven triangular lights with a tiny tail. “That must have cost a fortune!” Commented my friend speaking to the guardian, who was sitting next to us. “Those lights? Those aren’t ours …” Replied the old man with a worried face. Seconds later the eleven lights vanished

That night Ricky and I could not sleep, we were not used to the howling of those indigenous wild animals and we were thinking about those unidentified lights in the sky. We asked ourselves if the guardian had lied, or if he had told the truth, in which part of the jungle the source of those lights could have been. The day after we visited the ruins again and we went on top of the pyramid. From up there we had a fantastic view over the site, but it took me about one hour to get down those steep steps with the use of my ass.


In the afternoon a 2nd class bus took us to Merida, the capital city of Yucatan, where we were welcomed with torrential rain. The streets were flooded and we could not find any taxi, so we walked our way to the hotel, soaking in the water, which sometimes reached our knees. After dinner we were too tired to go out again, besides on the following day I had my work appointment, which I could not miss. My friend and I went to our room and at around 2am, when the guests of the hotel had finished partying, I closed my eyes.

It was not easy to find the branch of my company in Merida: the streets were numbered, but those numbers did not seem to be always in the correct order. At 10am we found the office and we met Javier, the local engineer. The Mexican employee showed me the equipment, he explained me how the node was connected to the other routers and I took note for my presentation. After two hours Javier offered to take Ricky and me for a sightseeing tour of the colonial district with its car. The Mexican man could only speak Spanish, so I had to translate into English for Ricky, who had also some questions regarding the colonial time in Mexico. I told Javier about the lights we had seen in the sky of Chichen Itza and he told me that a few days before the Mexican Military had seen those lights in the area of Campeche and they were classified as U.F.O. Javier was not a good driver, I was feeling dizzy and I asked him to let us down. “Muchas gracias, Javier!” I thanked him and as soon as he drove away I threw up. “What if they were Martians?” joked Ricky.

Here another episode of the great Australian gay series don't miss it!