Shakespeare and Company

I would like to live or at least to work in this independent bookshop in Paris. It´s definetely one of the most charming I have seen so far if not the most charming of all. A peacefull oasis for a passing-by book-lover like me. The location could not be better: on the Left Bank opposite to Notre Dame, in the Latin Quarter.

Surprisingly enough, I found the owner George Whitman on one of the little rooms upstairs. He did not seem surprised at all that I just walked into his assumed bedroom which was naturally bursting with old books. Just signed me to come forward instead of backing out to the staircase. Seems that in this house you never know what you will find behind the next corner - it is a maze of books peppered with pianos, cats and little notes from the visitors. Really unique atmosphere, somehow magical and overwhelmingly cozy at the same time. Felt like stepping into another world, thousands of miles from the busy bank of Seine. Sussi in Wonderland, part 2.

Apart from selling both old and new books, the house hosts writers. There are some beds here and where, some sinks and coffee cups, among some other marks of life like backpacks and arm chairs occupied by someone reading his favourite novel.

Paris

Some lost soul has nicked my umbrella and hand cream from the front pocket of my backpack. Maybe while I was having a nap at Charles de Gaulle airport.

Shoe God gave me a punishment for trowing away my well-served sneakers back in Zihuatanejo. It was raining one whole day and my poor Crock-like shoes filled with cold water. I am cold all the time anyway, takes a while to re-adjust.

Feeling sligthly posh: bought 2 shirts at Champs Elysée. The shop was Zara, but anyway. Yesterday spent the day walking around Montmarte and the Opéra Quarter, on Wed visited Louvre and Notre Dame, on Tue the Eiffel Tower. Playing tourist guide.

This French keyboaed is driving me nuts. It is not Qwerty so I can not really type. Or it zill look like this; loqds qnd loqds of s,qll ,istqkes: Oh zell the French hqve to do everything on their ozn zqy.

Xochimilco y Frida Kahlo

Went to Xochimilco and had a relaxing ride on the canals. Pity that I didn´t have enough time to go until La Isla de las Muñecas. Instead I went to see the two houses in which one of my favorite painters, Frida Kahlo, lived with her husband Diego Rivera: La Casa Azul in Coyoacán (also Frida's childhood home) and Casa Estudio Diego Rivera y Frida Kahlo in the posh neighbourhoods of San Ángel. La Casa Azul is lovely, my dream house. I would like to live there but preferably without all the tourist zombies and a bit nearer to the sea. Bright blue walls surrounding a cozy bright green garden, loads of space and beautiful high ceilings. Was nice to see Frida`s bed and wooden leg. After the high expectations set by La Casa Azul, Casa Estudio Diego Rivera y Frida Kahlo was kind of a disappointment: for some reason I was waiting something bigger and more beautiful. It was almost like whatever functionalistic house. Part of the movie Frida (2002) was filmed there and based on the movie I imagined it much more interesting to visit than it actually was.

Saw some amazing views over the city from Torre Latino's 44th floor. This city is quite huge indeed. Makes a small-country-girl like me gasp. According to some sources Mexico City is the second greatest human concentration in the world after Tokyo. There is supposed to be around 25 million people living in this valley. Phew.

Bought a cheap alarm clock from a street stall. 45 pesos. Hopefully it wakes me up nice and neatly tomorrow morning 3AM, to avoid missing my flight. I don't want to leave... Or I want to come back before I have left. Without any intention I guess I managed to bury a little piece of my heart on the fine sands of one Pasific beach. Another piece lays in Altea, of course, and the rest god-knows-where.

I have changed my tortilla diet to a corn diet. To not to totally forget the darling tortillas, had some quesadillas for lunch at Xochimilco. Just 10 pesos each.

Teotihuacán

This morning I had the first hot shower in almost 3 weeks. Heaven. Washed all the sand, alligator babies and turtle eggs out of my braids. Although it's better to have a cold shower with friends than a hot shower with enemies or how did that old proverb go.

Went to Teotihuacán. Climbed some pyramids, took loads of pics, missed the beaches. Now I should go out and try to find a laundry service. Washing machine on the roof is still and most likely permanently broken and I´m fed up with hand washing. Also I should look for a shop which sells alarm clocks. After a steaming hot day now it´s raining cats and dogs so I guess I can't be bothered. Why do I want to buy an alarm clock, anyway? Because I took my mobile phone to the reception to be charged and got it back totally mute. The receptionist is just looking at me like I'm the biggest pain in his ass since his wife left with his best friend. Obviously it's way too bold to dare to ask what an earth might have happened to my little darling phone. So no much help on that direction. Probably my own fault anyway, maybe my charger or the adapter is broken. Hopefully I'll wake up on time tmw morning for some mystical reason. Monday is gonna be more tricky as the timing will be quite sub-human but hopefully I've got either working mobile phone or an alarm clock by then.

I don't want to go back to Dublin. Just the tought about it makes me slightly sick. Don't wanna stay here, either. Can I just go back to the Pacific coast?

Sleepless in México, D.F.

Took the bus through the nite (se puede "take" un autobus, no es la misma que cojerlo aqui:) ) and here I am again. However I wouldn't necessarely want to be here, already missing the beach and the people in Estado de Guerrero.

The bus ride was hidious. I was prepared to pleasant sleep and king-size seats like on my way to the other direction as I paid the same fee. The cruel reality was somehow crappy bus with quite small seats which made sleeping almost impossible. The journey seemed to feel much longer than 10 hours (long enough anyway). To make things worse, I didn´t manage to open the door of the toilet of the bus (!) - neither could the others I think - and couldn´t use the ear plugs to keep clear from the telenovelas. Ears quite infected, not a surprise after all the swimming. Don't dare to annoy them more with the plugs. There is a price to pay for every pleasure. At least for almost every pleasure. No free lunches, oh no.

Today I went to see the Frida Kahlo exhibition on Palacio de Bellas Artes. Luckily they had it still open. Will try to go to see her house on Sunday. Maybe. After all the queues to the exhibitions multiplied by sleepless nite on the bus and other quite sleepless nite back in Buena Vista, I felt so knackered that I took the tourist bus. One of the worst mistakes of my life as usual. It took 3,5 hours in this traffic to make 2/3 of the tour. Now my head hurts. I can not even wash clothes in the washing machine as I dreamed to. Poor thing is broken and the guy downstairs does not know when (if) it will be fixed.

This insomnia makes me crazy, I get irritated of all these tiny things. Also I get irritated by my own company. Which is even worse as it´s quite difficult to get rid of that.

When in México, do as the Méxicanos do

Have tortillas for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Oops sorry breakfast not included.

Try to listen to the guys who are hanging on the bus doors and shouting weird names. "How do I know which bus should I take?" "They go shouting (se van gritando)." WTF? Okay, there seems to be a guy hanging on the door and shouting the final destination to all the people on the streets.

Need to go somewhere? For the elderly guys riding with burros, sombrero on the head, machete hanging on the side. For the rest of the world, sitting on the back of the pick up, or back of the ATV.

Would you like to live in a house with all mod cons? Window glasses, warm tap water, washing machine? Dream on, baby. What would those be for? But a hammock. Lots of hammocs.

Looking for things to do? Typical pass-time for 11-year-old kid: breaking coconuts with a machete, to get the delicious insides out. Looking for turtles laying their eggs. Lying in the hammock. Typical pass-time for Sussi: lying in the gently waving hammock, hating telenovelas and especially their soundtracks. Maybe occasionally having a cold beer or chatting with people or going for a swim.

Emergency Poncho

I just said good-bye to Mexicans A and J and their families and to all the rest. Good-bye to the Spanish A, Biologo de la Manana and his faitfull admirer R, and the Tres Mexican Caballeros. (Not to mention the rottening teeth on the roof, the symbol of freedom.) Not very likely I come back here soon, even though I would like to return when La Ut (please correct me, I´m not sure about the spelling) is raising from the sea. Erm. Adíos "padres adoptivos". Very young padres adoptivos, more like friends as they are not so many years older than me. But anyway, I am quite helpless in their world so felt a bit like a kid. Pfew. A bit lost now without these people. And without the hammocks.

Yesterday we went to the Playa La Saladita. It was just lovely: clear water, soft waves, some surfers on the horizon, only a few people around. J:s eldest daughter had an uncomfortable encounter with a ray while we were playing with the waves like a happy bunch of 11-year olds. After the beach A cooked some absolutely delicious fish on open fire and took us to see a little 1-day-old calf. Poor sap couldn´t eat ´cause his mummy´s tits were bursting with milk but A gave him some with a feeding bottle so today he was already strong enough to get his own dinner out of the mother cow by himself.

Yesterday I had two encounters with the Mexícan Police. The first one was with a friend of A, he just popped in to have a little chat. The next one was at the night on the beach: a group of four very well armed guys dressed all black, checking for the hueveros. Asking IDs from the poor Bíologo de la Mañana, who of course had none:D .

Zihuatanejo

My brain has melted. It feels good. No hurries, no worries. Just sun, sea and the mosquitos.

One other nite I saw on the beach my biggest free crocodile so far. It was around 150 cm tall, or maybe a bit more (around 8 months - 1 year of age). Looked very well fed, almost chubby. There must be plenty of fish in the sea. However the crocodiles usually spend their days at the river bank and go to the sea or to the beach just at the night. Maybe to catch some fish, maybe to catch some poor Sussi, maybe to just have a pleasant walk watching the stars and admiring the shadows of the palm trees on the strong moonlight. Just like the rest of us. (I have to keep in mind these crocodiles can grow until they are around 6 years old, 3 - 4 metres, before I develop too much sympathy for them. The crocodiles can also run really fast, at least on the double speed compared to good old slow-motion me. I guess they also can climb better to the palm trees if that turns out to be necessary.)

One day the waves were hitting my waste on the ankle-deep water and forced me to walk with them bringing a powerfull undertow pushing me around so I didn´t even dream of swimming. Especially when seing how the waves were behiving themselves a bit further from the beach, rising high and falling straight down with a crash. But in French S went with her blue swim fins. Me and the local kids watched her to disappear in the raging ocean. And the time went by.

After a long wait French S came back (thank God, I already thought she wouldn´t) looking like a deadly tired, scared bambi with her huge brown eyes full of fear. She trailed to the beach and threw away the swim fins. Ocean had almost pulled her to the open sea for good and she had been very impressed about the huge waves out there, already writing the last letter to her family. Not hard to believe. Concidering this and the crocodiles, I think the Pasific is not really my piece of cake. At least not on the beaches with big ocean waves and sneaky undertows.

Pirata del Pacífico

I´m slightly afraid one of the mothers of the baby alligators I saw at "our" beach will eat one of my limbs one beautiful day and I end up being a Pirate of the Pasific with my wooden leg:pirate: . However one of the good sides of losing a limb would be after that I´d have less space for the mosquitos to bite my skin. This morning found altogether over 50 bites on my 4 limbs, despite of using couple of litres of mosquito spray.

Have seen some great beaches. For example Majahua Playa was really nice and remote one. Apart from some local kids playing football and some guys driving by with their pick-ups we were the only persons there. Barra de Potosi is really beautiful as well, maybe the most beautiful in this area. There is a lagoon and a great view to a green hill on the left and to the mountains on the horizon on the right. However Barra de Potosi waves were quite a killers for a Baltic-Sea animal like me. They seemed to raise from nowhere, breaking above my head and casting me 20 metres towards the beach. The guys were also warning us about the powerfull undertows.

I am so jealous. French 18-year-old S is riding with the waves, no idea how she does that. In most of the times I try I just end up coughing sand out of my mouth and trying to figure out in which direction is the surface. In that kinda conditions, better for me to stay in the lovely lagoon if there is one available. As I don´t want to end up in those ugly statistics.

We had some great sea food at Barra de Potosi, in the Biologo de la Mañana´s cousin´s cousin´s restaurant. My god these people have loads of cousins here. Perfect place - after a nice snack you can have a cold Corona or two and lie in the hammock, on the shadow, watching the lagoon life go by. After a while, get up and ask the staff to break a fresh coconut for you to drink with a straw. Have a walk on the beach. Feel the sand burning your soles.

After one not-so-delicious evening meal in Zihua one of the Mexican chicos started to vomit, according to the eyewitnesses testimonials something quite impressive with green bubbles. After a while the French girl decided to keep him company as it´s quite sad to vomit all alone. Luckily the Spanish girl had some good Spanish medicins. (According to my own antibiotic-driven experiences in Spain you can get almost anything out of the farmacy without a description if you just know what to ask.) Interestingly enough, my stomach is just fine as always. Knock knock knocking the wood now.

Somebody flashed an idea the restaurant´s meat might have been from a dog and I looked sadly towards the poor Tesoro. Tesoro, stay far from the restaurants if you don´t want to contribute to a course called "Tesoro Caliente". Tesorito Calientito, as J says.

Couple of days ago we went to Playa de la Ropa. Fantastic place, but yesterday the newspaper told there has been some aqua negra, sewege waters. Yack. Dangers and annoyances everywhere:faint: . Anyway, I´m all safe and healthy. And didn´t even drown into the water which was floating to the bedroom from the bathroom this morning (yammy, life is full of beautiful surprises).

I´m in Petatlan now. Just for no reason, or maybe just to see the little stalls selling silver and gold. Local buses are quite frequent and cheap and I´m never again going to complain about the ways the Southern Italians drive. If I get out of here alive and with all my limbs intact.

The daily note about the differences between Castellano and Mexican Spanish: if you say "gracías", people usually don´t say "de nada". They just say "sí". The list of tiny and even a bit bigger cultural differencies is endless. For example women here in the rural areas get married very young. Legal age for girls is 12. And they have loads and loads of kids. J and his wife married then he was 21 and she was just 15. J found it quite strange that Spanish girl A and I have been living with our ex-boyfriends without being married. We found it equally strange he had married such a young one.

Living with the locals has been quite an eye-opening experience for me. Again. And they are such a nice people, always ready to smile and make jokes. As Mexicans in general, they seem to be enjoying the life a lot. Pity we don't have more sun and more sand in the northern Europe.

Somebody tell me why this raging water is called Oceano Pacífico, Pacific Ocean, Tyynimeri? It's the least pacífico (peaceful) sea I´ve ever seen. Vahiten tyyni koskaan nakemistani merista.

Tequila y tortugitas

I´m staying in a village called Buena Vista. Dispate of the ambitious name the view is not especially great, it´s a super small place 5 kilometres from the sea. Naturally there is no internet connection, so I took a bus and now I´m here at Zihuatanejo. (Going back up soon.)

Yesterday we stayed at the beach until 5AM so my head is extremely sore now - tequila tastes fantastic but the next morning you poor thing find yourself weak and faint.

In general I have a feeling I am in a Zoo. Have seen baby alligators lying on the sand, an "armadrillo/vyotiainen" (the animal which looks like a basketball covered with belts) having a stroll on the street, iguana on the back yard, turtles laying their eggs etc. Not to mention all the birds and all the disgusting insects.

A tortugar... Turtle eggs are like soft but tough golf balls and one turtle can easily lay 100 of those. After the nest has been spotted, the eggs will be digged out of the hole and moved into the safe, fenced area as both humans and other species are after them. It´s a pity I will not see the little turtles digging themselves to the surfice after they have been born - the first babies will arrive approximately after one month from now as the season has just started.

A Mexican guy A whose wife cooks for us let me drive his big all-terrain vehicle (quad bike, monkija). Need a bit more practise (apart from sitting on the back of the ATV the other main way of moving oneself around has been sitting on the open air in the back of a pick-up, but I prefer the ATV as it feels it could be less likely to fall down from it and break one's neck or something). A is sometimes just amazing, he for example catched a baby alligator just like that and let us hold it. We let it back to the sea, of course, but the poor animal was all confused and started to run towards us instead of the ocean - everybody was screaming and running like a maniac. Afterwards we were highly ashamed of ourselves. It is not really likely an alligator a bit longer than my arm would have eaten all ten of us. Or how should I know.

I feel twisted, have naturally been speaking mostly Spanish and now the other languages seem to be all mixed up in my head. Just wrote some emails in Finnish. I guess the recipients will think I´m still totally wasted. To make things worse there are some differences between the Spanish Castellano and Mexican Spanish. Currently my main problem seems to be the verb "cojer". That is perfectly normal way to say "to take" in Spain, but here the most closest relative for this word is "follar". That way I end up saying things like "I´m gonna fxxx the bus now". People find it entertaining. Constantly. Also, "Puta madre" means here something bad, not something good like in Spain. And instead of "joder" people many times say simply "jo". Why to use too much energy?

The pace of life is really, really relaxed. Suits fine for me. It´s so hot and humid anyway, better to take it easy. And let some beautiful Pasific waves to hit over your Nordic nitpicker head. Lay on a hammock. Eat some more tortillas.

The house is very basic, and far from the beach. Much more basic than my Spanish trailer, the 5 stars luxyry resort. I´m just trying to not to think about this no-beach-accommodation matter too much, otherwise I will end up camping on the beach and that is not safe. (Although I have a nap there almost every nite, nice and calm on top of my single-use-raincoat. It´s the rainy season now, but compared to Dublin it does not rain almost at all, so the raincoat can serve as a substitute mattress.)

I´m full of mosquito bites, a bit burned on the sun, dirty and smelly. And already tired of having tortillas with tortillas after tortillas for brunch and dinner (having no breakfasts, and if I would I´m sure it would be tortillas as well). But relaxed and happy. Or as happy as I can be considering I came here mainly to spot the baby turtles and I won´t see them at all. And apart from that I came here to stay at the beach listening the ocean while sleeping, but the house is 1 hour walk from the Pasific. But hey, who cares. At least it´s hot and humid and tequila is cheap.

Sussi Over Atlantic

The trip took over 24 hours (some delays with the flights etc) so I'm a bit knackered, otherwise everything has gone really smoothly so far. This evening I'm gonna take a bus trough the nite, kinda pity can't see the landscapes as it'll most likely be dark but on the otherhand that's a good opportunity to sleep. Sleep:zzz: . Sleep. Beloved sleep.

Sundance Kid you were right, my forever and more blocked right ear unblocked itself after the second flight. Thanks for the tip. However this is extremely bizarre as usually the ears are supposed to get blocked in the plane, not unblocked. Anyway who cares as long as it works.

People have been super nice, so my customer service curse applies only to good auld Dublin. Oh bliss. Also it was possible to clear all the immigration and customs already in Dublin so in Atlanta I needed to only walk to the next gate and go trough the security screening. That took altogether something like 40 mins. My bag surfed itself kindly directly to the final destination, just perfect.

Anyway, I'll try to keep you posted. Or should I say this blog posted. As you most likely know European mobiles don't work here so if you want to contact me, please drop an email. Btw the bouncer of the Woolshed asked my ID last week, maybe the reason why people have been so surprisingly helpfull here is that they think I'm something like 15.

Edinburgh

The most interesting street in Edinburgh is the Royal Mile in the Old Town - consisting of Lawnmarket, High Street and Cannongate. The Royal Mile starts from the Edinburgh Castle and descends towards the Palace of Holyroodhouse (the Queen's official residence in Scotland). It's really worth of wandering and investigating the narrow alleys off the Royal Mile, called closes and wynds. Like opening little gift boxes full of surprises. My favourite is the World's End Close, just because of the name. However as tempting as the closes might look after the midnight and after the 12th pint or so some locals warned it might be unsafe to pop into these dark lanes alone at night.

I didn't enter the Castle, shame on me. It was kinda expensive-ish and when you have seen around 34 European Castles, Cathedrals and Fortresses it sometimes might feel you've already seen them all. If the time is limited it is a must to pay a visit to some of the pubs surrounding the Grassmarket instead of having yet another Castle experience, in my current opinion. Please tell me if this was a great error and I will correct it next time, if there will be a next time in Edinburgh. I promise.

The Calton Hill is a great place to have a view over the city and snap some more or less impressive photos. After stumbling down the hill I ended up to the New Town. I've got an impression the most important areas of the New Town are around the Princes Street. So are the Princes Street Gardens. I spent a long while there lying on the grass - finally got some sun today, actually loads of it. Very nice combined with yet another portion of fattening chips. Btw the New Town is called "the New Town" because it's newer than the Old Town but it is still very old from the Finnish point of view.

Found two commendable museums in the Old Town side of the city. Nicely illustrated The People's Story is located at Canongate Tolbooth, 163 Canongate, Royal Mile. I don't usually like museums too much (apart from the ones with art or photography) but I really enjoyed this one. Also the Museum of Childhood at 42 High Street/Royal Mile is worth of taking a peek. There are old toys in many floors: certainly interests kids and maybe nostalgic adults as well. Admission was free to both.

Nessie Hunt

Decided to escape from the rains of Dublin and came to Scotland. Maybe not rainwise the smartest move ever. But Edinburgh is just lovely. Even though it's currently raining at least as much as back in Ireland.

Edinburgh is good for my chubby tights. Wandering up and down these steep streets and staircases hopefully shall destroy a gram of fat or two. However the calories spent can easily be re-loaded with a delicious portion of proper Fish & Chips and a pint of Miller. Or maybe just the chips, not the biggest fan of cot. Yack.

Went to visit the cute and lonely Highland Cow Hamish. Oh. He is like a gigantic soft toy with his Beatles style hair. All by himself in his big fencing, posing to all the tourists. The landscapes in highlands have been great, magnificant in general, but the Loch Ness was kinda disappointment. Not the most beautiful of all the lochs, not even near. Was manically looking for Nessie, with my camera ready. But no luck. Not this time.