Lanzarote

i'm there. in Lanzarote. it's surreal, and beautiful. it's a place that is both touristy and solitaire, smooth and rough, melancholic and cheerful.

the first picture is Matagorda Bay, on the south coast of Lanzarote. the second picture is taken from the same spot, just the opposite side: you can see the bungalow place where i am staying (Las Gaviotas - The Seagulls), and beyond that, one of  Lanzarote's countless vulcanoes.

the third picture is from the west coast, where the island is rougher, with lava regions, and black beaches, and some fisher settlements.

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the book i am reading right now is from Vienna - it's a collection of travolgues, some are essays, some are parts of novels, pieced together in celebration of the "world day of the book" - i saw it on the counter of a bookshop, and couldn't resist. there's Hesse, Naipaul and Chatwin included, Twain and Hemingway - and Noteboom, who writes about staying in hotels, with a line on how to deal with eventual fires - a line that also could be read as general travel or life advice: "Non perdeu la serenitat." - "Don't let go of your calmness / serenity."

now to come: a walk along the bay, to watch seagulls and waves.