Tag Archive: Fuengirola


Great Expectations!


Image representing Smashwords as depicted in C...

Image via CrunchBase

Something momentous happened yesterday, which may not mean a lot to you. I sold the very first copy of my first publication “Tittbits” on Smashwords.com, my fledgling creation, my first-born baby has finally been acknowledged by another human being. After eight long months of lying on the internet shelves, someone was kind enough to take one copy home to read in peace and have a chuckle with. It can not be stroked, caressed or smelled like you can a paper book, but nevertheless a little piece of my psyche is now in someone else´s hands, to have and to hold and to cherish for all eternity(or a trifle less).

 

Will he or she like it or sneer at it in disdain? Oh dear, don´t tell me, for the agony, the heartbreak might be my undoing! Let me continue in my belief that my child has found a loving foster parent. In fact, in would now like to entreat all my readers NOT to buy a copy, because the suspense of waiting for a sign of your approval or utter loathing would turn me into a nervous wreck, prematurely grey and weak of heart and limb… How can other authors stand this torture?

 

I can hear my old pal Dermott in Fuengirola saying: “Ralphie, old bean, I think you´ve gone overboard, your train has derailed and your marbles have yet again been scattered to the four corners of the globe(can a globe has corners, by the way?) Snap out of it! It´s only a friggin´book.” Dermott really doesn´t have a clue, does he?

 

Anyways, the book costs 8.99$ and six of those are ALL mine! But Smashwordsonly pays every trimester. I am therefore giddy with anticipation about this enormous wealth about to come my way at the end of the month of September of the beginning of October. My literary oeuvre is bearing fruit at last. I´ve already ordered the yacht, by the way! Toodeloo, gang, hugs from Ralphie.

 

About these ads

To Whom It May Concern:


Facade of "O Obradoiro", cathedral o...

Facade of “O Obradoiro”, cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, Santiago de Compostela, Galicia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was forced(literally) to leave Fuengirola yesterday and am now in Granada, still alive and kicking, surprisingly. I can not give any further info. If anybody in Fuengirola reads this, please inform my friends that I am alright. There are not a lot of acquaintances left here that I know. I therefore plan to travel further North to Gandia, perhaps via Murcia. Preliminary destination Barcelona and after that to Santiago de Compostela to see if my friend Freddy is still there.

If my blogging is a bit sketchy from now on, please excuse me for I am on the road and do not know when I shall be able to settle down again. Wish me luck, folks! A hug and a smackeroo from Ralphie!

Just let me tell you this: some days it feels really good to still be alive!

What Does A Writer Do?


English: "Don´t worry, be happy" Deu...

English: “Don´t worry, be happy” Deutsch: “Don´t worry, be happy” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He writes!  I didn´t feel much like writing, but I have a secret… I refuse to worry  and then everything sorts itself out automatically. And let´s face it, there is nobody standing over me with a gun, who says: “Write or I kill you!”, now is there! ?  I feel like I´m in limbo, stuck between two planes, on the outside looking in. I´m not quite here yet, in Fuengirola. Once I will have established a firm routine, then everything will start to flow naturally, as before.  Until then,  I´ll just muddle along.

I´m happy to be free again. The street gets under your skin. It is not a place, it´s a state of mind, a way of life. I´ve met several people, who spent time on the street and then returned to a more or less regular life and they all, without exception, told me the same thing and that is that it never leaves you. You carry it with you for the rest of your life. Now don´t get me wrong, I do not consider this a negative thing.

You can not imagine how liberating it is to no longer carry the fear with you of being destitute. Because you´ve been there and you survived. And you know what? It wasn´t all that bad! You go where you want, when you want, meet loads of interesting people and you learn that all you really need are the bare necessities. All the rest is pure and unadulterated luxury!

Why would I want to create a prison of my own making with a mortgage, more debts and endless worrying? For what? My luck (and my pain…) is that I have no children. I am responsible only for myself and to myself (within reason). And the world would still keep on turning just as happily without me in it. So, why worry? Be happy! A lot of people stop and stare at me, when they see me begging with a smile and a real one at that. Well… there obviously must be something wrong with that one! Except, there isn´t! At least, nothing that a good meal wouldn´t fix.

I was a bit remiss earlier, I know that my friends worry about me and I love them for it. But don´t, because you see, some days(if not most) it´s so wonderful to be alive in my billion star hotel. Except that the room service sucks! I shall have to have a word with the management.

´Home´Again!


Skyline of Fuengirola

Skyline of Fuengirola (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

At the border in Ceuta, my pal was told that his visa had expired and that he had to go back to where he lives to get a police report. My passport had already been stamped by then, so I went on alone, figuring that I would make it back somehow.

After two hours of begging outside a supermarket, I´d made about two Euros. I thought to myself that it might take me a week to get the money for the ferry ticket together, if things went on in this vein. Time for some magic! I sent out a request into the ether, saying that I needed a miracle, not a big one, a tiny one would do and left it up to Karma to take care of business.

And lo and behold, about half an hour later a young man squatted down next to me and asked what trouble I was in. I told him the truth, without asking for anything and he offered to pay for my ticket. I asked him if he were an angel. This made him laugh, but then… maybe he was!?

I made it to Spain the same day and started off on foot. I was hitchhiking next to a billboard at the entrance to the freeway, when I saw a hearse approaching. I put down my thumb immediately, for I wasn´t ready for that ride just yet! As nobody gave me a ride, I headed back into town around two o´clock in the morning and slept in a bank.

The next morning I was just able to afford a bus ticket to Estepona, which was not even halfway towards my destination. Having spent an uncomfortable night on the floor, I fell asleep on the bus and missed my stop. As luck would have it, I woke up in Fuengirola, which was right where I wanted to be. ;-) The bus had been chocker and the driver didn´t even notice, bless his tartan cotton socks!

I´d made the whole trip back in just under twenty-five hours. There I was, back on those streets, which I know like my back pocket. Actually, better than that, for my back pocket and I are not on speaking terms! As a matter of fact, my back pocket can kiss my arse! My friends were all happy to see me and some of them even jumped for joy, which warmed my heart.

What more does one need, hey? I have wonderful friends all over the world, I´m in reasonably good health… well, I could think of a very long list of things that I could do with, to tell you the truth! I´ll just say that I live in hope and leave it at that, shall I!?

There was even some idiot here, who had spread the rumour that I had died in Estepona, where I haven´t been in three years… I´ve always wanted to say that the reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated and now I have! Hihihi!! Toodeloo, gang.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,646 other followers