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Sex/Life 38

“You are amazing. I love you” she whispered. I smiled and tidied up her fringe, stuck on her wet forehead. Stayed in silence, staring at her blushing face. HER face. The one who left me behind. The one who broke my heart. The one I had to imagine in other faces because I thought I'd never see her again. Her beautiful face, even more beautiful than every memory I had from her. And there she was, staring back at me. Finally together again, in the other side of the world.

A drop of my sweat fell right on her naked chest. She laughed and goosebumps rose all over her skin when I tenderly attempted to dry her up. “I love you too” I said.

Always have. Always will.

Tel-Aviv taxi

The driver looked back at my girlfriend in the rearview mirror. “Norwegian? No, no, we don't like Norwegians” he said roughly in his very basic English; “they only like Palestine and talk bad about Israel.” My gal, in her very polite Scandinavian custom, responded with a “but my boyfriend is Chilean.” The cab man changed his aggressive tone for a smile and said “oh, Chile! South America! Very good football! I like Chile!” I, condescendingly, replied “yeah, very good football.” Inside, I was laughing, ironically. If Israelis knew that Chile openly supports Palestine and has the largest Palestinian community outside of the Arab world, they would have treated me as bad as my girl. Ignorance is a blessing.

Love Trip, Episode 02: London, England.

What can I say about London? Not much, really. Only spent one and a half days there, so I'm not able to give an advanced talk on the city and everything related to it. But I can share some facts I saw during my stay. London is big, so it has a clock of similar proportions, The Big Ben. And lots of bridges. And very expensive beer. And many museums called “Tate”, of which I could only see the modern one.

London subway, a.k.a. “the Tube”, is massive, and has so many lines and colors that looking at its map makes you feel trapped in a fucking maze. Lucky me, I was with my girl. She definitely knew her way around. Well, didn't pick the hostel pretty wisely, but can't blame her. St Christopher's Inn sounded like a nice place, but ended up being shit. Mixing a busy pub with a hostel is not a great idea.

Anyway, and this may sound very shallow, there was something about London that got my attention: the racial variety. I mean, I know it's the 21st century and this shouldn't be a detail at all, but I come from the ass crack of the world. In Chile, there is no mix at all. We had our first black people 5 years ago, for fuck's sake! So, as you can imagine, London was a revelation. Variety wherever I looked, like being in a United Colors of Benetton ad. Amazing!

And, shallow as this comment is, I really liked the people in general over there. Most of them looked so good. Well dressed, fit, tidy. It was a real fashion capital. In Swansea, I felt so disappointed about the people there and their overall trashiness. “Where's the so called euro look?” I thought. But London was basically being in another world; a world of good looking citizens in which I felt a bit out of place. Ironically, many girls checked me out, which was new for me in Europe. The more multicultural the city, the more attractive you get? I don't know. Somebody should look into that.

And that's what I have to say about London. Huge city, very trendy and multicultural, with an apparently infinite subway and the most expensive pints of beer I've ever seen. Yeah, London is the shit. Chaotic, enormous, expensive and beautiful shit.

PS: I'm not joking about St Christopher's Inn, it is shit, and not in a good way -if there's any-!