I spent most of yesterday getting my camera to work again. It turned out that it had nothing to do with the battery charger but that the button for the flash was stuck. The new charger I had bought at Corte Ingles had to be brought back, then a long walk to a Nikon repair facility. They could not have it done till just before Christmas and the minimum charge was $50. Back at the apartment I borrowed Joakim’s tools and took the camera apart and managed to fix the problem.
Palma is a total change from Ibiza. The city counts about 400,000 souls and I guess that the entire permanent population of Ibiza island is less than 100,000. In the morning we dropped off the oldest, William 6, of the three boys (Cesar 2, Vincent 4) at the Swedish school. The school counts about 170 Swedish students. An experience to watch these blue eyed towheads** here, speaking Swedish and Spanish. Their parents, for the most part have jobs here or the father works in Sweden and commutes the weekends. The round trip airfare on services like Ryan Air is below $ 100 and takes about 1 1/2 hours. And a number work for Swedish firms by internet from their home here. The Swedes can live anywhere in the world because there is always an Ikea within driving distance where they can get their meatballs, Gravlax and the Svenska Dagbladet. I took my host family at 5 a.m. this morning to the airport. The three boys are a riot. Cesar the two year old is the entertainer, sings and tells long stories, the middle one 4 years old will be a rugby player, and William, 6, is the professor.
Yesterday was the first month since the shipwreck, also a full moon. So far my “third life” has already started with good experiences, beyond my expectations, with lots of help from many directions and new friendships.
Sad news reached me yesterday that Cor Ruijer passed away suddenly, last Saturday. He became a good friend as member of the yacht club, de Schinkel, where I was a guest and later member, since august of 2009. Cor had lived part of his live in Galicia and spoke perfect Castellano. He had his proper bar stool at the club and he would always joke and taunt me that I would never go back to the United States. I had hoped to impress him with my newly acquired Spanish on my return to Amsterdam, next month. We will miss him.
Here is what I want for Christmas from my sons. They are wealthy and since I am going to outlive them its just an early distribution of my inheritance. It s just perfect for my next mode of travel. I call it a “Cheater Chopper”. Battery assisted bicycle. It will do 50 km/hr. It is Joakim’s, my host here in Las Palmas, urban toy.
And a few more pictures of Palma:
** When I googled my spelling for Towheads I learned that the word comes from the Dutch “Touw” or rope, which was made from Flax, e.g. “Flaxen Haired”.