The past few months have been a bit unsettling. I love Las Palmas, but it has not felt the same in 2019. I know its not the city. It is me. Lately, I have not had a sense of direction.
As I drink my one euro coffee on Playa Las Canteras, I wonder if I am having a breakdown. On days you can see Tenerife over 100 kilometres away, I think if this is a breakdown, it is better then I had imagined one to be.
Las Palmas life is easy going. It is a very chilled out city. Manana is a very popular word here. The people are nice here.
Las Palmas is a great place to retire. A good place to live if you have a job that pays enough to live and socialise.
It is not a great place if you are not earning. Nowhere is.
57 and on the scrapheap
I was listening to Irish radio the other day. A recruitment specialist was talking. She said there was full employment, and Ireland needed people from other countries to take up unfilled jobs.
Within minutes the phones were ringing with people over 50 years of age saying they could not get employment. After sending out 100s of CVs I can identify with that.
Young people don’t worry about older peoples employment. In fairness other then their own family older people don’t worry too much about younger peoples work prospects. That is just the way it is.
I can accept it or say fuck it. I am going with the fuck it option.
My blog is on the go now for a year. It has been a hard slog, but I am enjoying writing. I enjoy reviewing the places I have visited.
Getting visits to the blog is the slog. It takes time and effort to drive sufficient visitors to a blog. The good news after many months of little or no increase the trend is getting better.
More people are finding my blog on search engines. They say most people that start blogs give up within six months. They also say that blogs need a minimum of one year to begin to attract search engine visitors.
I have decided to keep going with the blog and give it another year. I might be stupid at times, but I am stubborn all of the time.
A new adventure
I have recently struggled to find new places to review in Gran Canaria. I have been lucky to see a lot of this beautiful island, but I need new material.
With that in mind, I have decided to pack my bag and go on my longest trip to date. Seven months in South America.
I have booked a flight from Madrid, and four weeks from tomorrow I fly to what Time magazine once described the most dangerous city on the planet.
Medellin in Colombia has changed a lot since the days of Pablo Escobar. At the height of his power, Escobar was earning 420 million a week from drug smuggling. Most of it went to the United States.
In 1993 Pablo Escobar was shot dead by Columbian police.
Today Medellin has reinvented itself, and you would have more chance of being bored to death by a hipster in a Starbucks then getting shot in a drugs fight in a local bar.
The plan, such as there is a plan is to start in Columbia and move south. Equador. Peru. Bolivia and Paraguay would be the initial plan.
Of course, that plan might change, but I will continue south and not north.
I am nervous and excited. I can always book a flight back if I hit trouble, but I am determined to get to 2020 in South America.
I do have one thing I must do. I am going to see Machu Picchu in Peru or die trying.
I have a flight booked. A new bag. The last trip I put everything into one bag. I should be ok with one bag again. I have not collected more stuff, and I have definitely lost a few socks.
If you are following the blog, I hope you hang around and join me in South America.
Join me on my journey.
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