The mystery of the beginning of all things is insoluble by us.

The cumulation of several weeks worth of work (intermixed with multiple vacations) has been judged good enough to earn a banana sticker.   In other words, this is the pinnacle of academic perfection.  Countless sleepless nights and hours of frustration has resulted in what is perhaps the most thought provoking piece of literature since Darwin's On the Origin of Species.  I have been waiting for the call from the Nobel Committee, but so far have yet to hear anything.  Would someone mind giving me a ring just to make sure my mobile is working?  

Thank you in advance,

M. Scott Lawrence I   

A scientific man ought to have no wishes, no affections.  A mere heart of stone. 

My lips and fingertips were stone

Last of the Brohicans 

It hit me like a wrecking ball as I stood on the platform while it rained.  I came to the realization while struggling to remain upright amongst the hordes of Zombies. The trains no longer run on time.  It is time to leave Scandinavia.

I'd do it again if I could

Icelandic ash makes for epic sunsets

I = clean shaven with a new haircut, well rested, finished with school, sunburned as shit.  March has been a hell of a long month.  Spring break rolls on... 

Flesh is all we will ever be.

Something about this damn tree

On the eve of some crazy religious bullshit, I'm reminded of the fact that I feel no need to have the world explained to me by fairy tales.  I am perfectly comfortable with the uncertainty that comes with being human.

So I wanted goals.

As we crossed over to greenwich mean time, my body no longer felt like hammered shit, which could have been a major contributing factor to my favorable opinion of Lisboa.  The streets were dirty, the hills steep and coffee/wine plentiful.  In fact, I think I came close to my lifelong goal of drinking 100 cups of coffee in a 72 hour period.  The other dudes might have came close to port overdose.

Life behind bars

After being extremely cruel to the woman at the front desk (and the Portugese education system as a whole) due to her poor math skills we proceeded to watch some television.  If you possess a rudimentary knowledge of Spanish, Portugese is relatively easy to read.  Spoken Portugese, on the other hand, is a different animal.  To me is sounds Slavic... and sexy.  Too bad the majority of women in Lisbon look like war torn veterans of the human trafficking industry.

Initially we assumed Lisbon was a prime location to work on our beach bod tan.  After receiving some peculiar looks from the taxi driver after we inquired as to where the best beaches were located, we came to the realization that they were several hundred kilometers south of where we were.  So, we managed to epically fail at the number one reason for traveling to the Iberian Peninsula.  We did not see a single beach.  

Do it already

    The theme of the trip was "detox".  Although due to my straight edge lifestyle I have very little I need to sweat out of my system other than protein powder and kanalbulle.  But I think we did well by restricting our diet to caffeine, sugary pastries, grilled meats and port/beer/wine.  And the excessive amount of sun really capped everything off.   

You know those cameras that are like.... double cameras?

     

Postscript.

It is 10 pm and I am lying on the floor because the frame of my cot is giving me a dislocated vertebrae.  From where I sit I can see the sky with enough light in the air to make out the color of the clouds.  I will miss a few things about this northern latitude.    

They looked like Roman columns on the map

I appreciated Madrid for it's unadulterated feeling towards toursits like myself.  It possessed the royal culture that Barcelona lacked.  Also, I felt the city could exist just fine without mobs of tourists emptying their pockets on crappy tapas and cheap hookers.  It tolerated us but did not care if and when we left.

   The botanic gardens wasn't anything amazing, but it was a nice place to take an afternoon stroll.  Although, I did manage to find one thing of significance.  When I was a kid my mother tried to instill an appreciation for gardening in me.  I wish I could say that I was a good pupil.  One day she brought home the most interesting plant I have ever seen.  A mimosa pudica.  My brother and I killed it quickly.  But the Real Jardin Botánico de Madrid had a mimosa pudica the size of a tree.  Against my better judgement I touched the leaves.

Due to time constraints we kept moving, although I am sure I could have spent much more time in Madrid.  During our time in Spain we had much discussion on the "future" and what we expected over the next several months.   We came to a general consensus that owning a set of dinner plates is an achievable goal.  Better to ease out of our gap life slowly.  

Elevation

And so we said our goodbyes and pressed on to seek the fortune that we knew was looking for us.

Kill the lights. Kill the beat.

Life between buildings

After hours of watching passing countryside and endless rows of orange trees through the window of a bus, I started to realize that Mediterranean Spain reminded me of the 4c (sans orange trees).  Arid, dry climate with some hills.  It was nice to daydream.

Vasco discovers the perfect pour

  I liked Valencia in the respect that I lacked any preconceived expectations that the city was forced to live up to.  It was clean, full of gay dudes, and shut down between the hours of 3 and 6pm.  The microwaved paella at the bar next to the sex shop was surprisingly tasty.

Major life lesson:  Always open the drapes before packing for a day at the beach.  It might be fucking raining.

The bull fight pro salutes you

I hesitate writing about the bull fight we watched.  Everyone that I have spoken with has this inherent disgust with the ritual of killing bulls, yet they have no problem eating meat which come from animals who almost certainly lead worse lives (until they are unceremoniously slaughtered).
I, on the other hand, thought the bull fight was an amazing spectacle to witness.  These animals are specifically bred (and probably lead a good life) for a magnificent death.  The ceremony and respect given to the animals overshadow the "brutal" slaughter in the end. Death can be a beautiful thing.  Consider yourself lucky if you receive a standing ovation when you die.  
Moreover, after living in what is arguably the most equal (feminist) society on the planet, it was refreshing to see an overt display of masculinity.  While I would normally accuse a dude wearing bright pink socks and a skin tight sequined gold jump suit of somehow being less than a man - these dudes embody macho.  Staring a 1000 lb bull in the face must take courage.  And even when one matador caught a head-butt to the face, he still finished the match.  That impresses me more than your suit/tie job and diversified portfolio.  

Madrid calling

I've got the dust of the desert in my bones

The Iberian Peninsula is the opposite of it's Scandinavian counterpart.  When asked why we came to Sweden, we (sarcastically) name the good weather, friendly people and cheap food.  In Spain, those three selling points hold true.

Future antiquity 

Although I don't like to admit it, I thought Barcelona was a shitty city.  Everyone I have ever spoke with sings hymns of praise for this city.  If you like Americans shoving bar flyers in your face, bums pushing fake cocaine, expensive tapas and agressive nigerian hookers then I can't recommend Barcelona enough.  Otherwise, get over it.

 In all honesty, the place was alright.  Agreeable weather, nice people and pretty architecture.  But the hype never lives up to your expectations.  Also, the party hostel might have given me airborne chlamydia because I developed some respiratory problems the second night.  Nothing some sangria and salted meat couldn't cure (pun intended).

 I truly believe that travel broadens your horizons and helps to place things in perspective.  You face awkward moments and uncomfortable situations.  But there comes a point when it is no longer about experiencing it for yourself, but for the obligation you feel - for the story that you will subsequently tell others.  It is a fine line.

Tied soccer match resulted in a crazy street party.

So play the violins

I am out of touch.  Another stamp in the passport, another name crossed off the list. Out on the road, little boys let their beards grow.  

Never surrender

Burn everything as if it was never ours to lose.

Amidst the irrelevant celebrations over the death of a man that helped to define my generation, I choose life.

Sleep well, Spain.  I will see you in the morning.