Rotterdam's pencil

People made think about Rotterdam as one of the biggest ports in the world; Dutch probably would tell you that. But if you get the time to see it by yourself, you will discover more than that.

This particular city has there own design, and you can see it from the top of the Euromast -184m-, from the water and of course, walking around the streets. I was lucky enough to have a Dutch host and a German friend to join me. But our journey at this place was not common at all. It started on a winter day at 7 am when our host, who was tie up at her work, left us at the bus station.

As you can imagine there are similarities between a ghost city and one very early in the morning. We started wandering around and looking for a cafe or something that will keep us warm and awake until everyone became alive. We had Rotterdam for ourselves for more than two hours.

We got the map and we figured some places we wanted to visit. There was no need for buses, not even the most famous vehicle, the bike; the road was going to take us to that enormous tower. It was near the afternoon when we got there, rashing was never on the schedule.

The fear of height was not planed, we couldn't make it to the 184 meters. Although we found the restaurant that I believe was 20 meters below the top, where the German paid her most expansive tea but we eat deliciously. The view allowed us to see the reason why Dutch are proud of their port, the parks, the Erasmus Bridge and most of the city -this time awake.

We left the tower, with funny anecdotes at the park with some amusing swan. But those didn't stop our long walk, what did stop us was seeing the Pencil Building and some rare square department beside it. How odd it would be if I tell you that my Dutch friend owns a place on that Pencil nowadays?

Anyway, this is for her, her new place at the Pencil Building and her wonderful country.

De paso por Colonia

Terminadas las vacaciones en La Paloma, el recorrido más gasolero era en colectivo a Colonia, y de ahí embarcar lentamente hacia Buenos Aires.

Con la mochila como única compañía, me alejé de la estación para aprovechar las pocas horas que quedaban de mis vacaciones. Sabía que el atardecer era la última señal para subir al barco.

Caminé hacia el centro de la ciudad amurallada que a veces, si los cielos azules lo permiten, vemos desde el otro lado del Río de la Plata.

Sin ir muy lejos me topé con una estructura de otros tiempos, y con aire de tranquilidad. No existe un motivo distinto que el descanso y el relajo, excepto por aquellos ruidos de motos, que hoy por hoy se alquilan en el puerto.

“La casa Nacarello, construida con estilo portugués...’’ oí comentar a una pareja de turistas y de reojo atendía a su explicación. Sin quererlo, en Colonia uno transita calles por donde paseaban las damas antiguas del siglo xviii. La ambientación parece preparada para que deambulemos y no dejemos de asombrarnos por la arquitectura añeja pero colorida. No faltan las flores ni los detalles de los carteles de las avenidas.

En mi recorrido faltaban el Faro y de la Iglesia del Santísimo, íconos de esta pequeña ciudad; que con sólo girar los divisé y hacia allí fui. Mientras tanto, los faroles compañeros de los infaltables empedrados, a medida que iba cayendo el sol iluminan de modo tenue. La gente, poco a poco, iba acomodándose en las mesas de los cafés, mientras que yo daba una recorrida en la orilla mirando el reflejo de unos chicos al mojarse en el agua.

Con el sol escondiéndose, no me quedaba otra opción que subir al barco. Sin querer desperdiciar ni un minuto busqué un lugar en la popa para contemplar el atardecer de una ciudad amurallada.