Frame 50:
"Waiting for the old is gone"
Just like that. Are 15:30 and 31 December and we are all anxious for the old year go soon to begin the celebrations proper to the next. I ride the rail Portales Street's viewpoint on the hill Baron. Many people are stationed there early.
Not much to do except watch the scenery, play cards or simply wait for the arrival of naps 12. Pitillas and strings are used to demarcate the space that each occupy foreign family to receive the 2007. Many sleep with one eye open to look after their things from the possible uses of some more crooks.
more cars than usual passing through the jammed streets of my hill, unaccustomed to carers and opportunistic own the center, but the new year is unforgiving and where there are people, there will be sellers. I walk around. I see with my camera and ask me if I come from a magazine or newspaper.
"These are for my personal collection," I reply enthusiastically. Ask me to take a couple of photos and send them by mail as a reminder of that hot day. I agree. Not the first time I do. "Thanks" I say, "... and Happy New Year ahead", just tell them.
these festivals are rare, but I like them. The good wave in the air smells, feels on the skin. Nobody seems to get upset about anything ... and our streets, invaded by strangers while waiting to uncork a champagne to celebrate and in the living room of his house. If up table and candles have been installed in the gazebo. Surreal, to say the least.
Not much to do except watch the scenery, play cards or simply wait for the arrival of naps 12. Pitillas and strings are used to demarcate the space that each occupy foreign family to receive the 2007. Many sleep with one eye open to look after their things from the possible uses of some more crooks.
more cars than usual passing through the jammed streets of my hill, unaccustomed to carers and opportunistic own the center, but the new year is unforgiving and where there are people, there will be sellers. I walk around. I see with my camera and ask me if I come from a magazine or newspaper.
"These are for my personal collection," I reply enthusiastically. Ask me to take a couple of photos and send them by mail as a reminder of that hot day. I agree. Not the first time I do. "Thanks" I say, "... and Happy New Year ahead", just tell them.
these festivals are rare, but I like them. The good wave in the air smells, feels on the skin. Nobody seems to get upset about anything ... and our streets, invaded by strangers while waiting to uncork a champagne to celebrate and in the living room of his house. If up table and candles have been installed in the gazebo. Surreal, to say the least.
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