Looking back.

My children at a very tender age.

Although it could be subjective and debatable, I think those growing up in the decade of the ‘70s probably had one of the last opportunities to live childhood in all its glory, a stereotypical one that old books describe. One enjoys to look back with nostalgia at the walked path.

TV was limited by the number of channels and the hours of broadcasting which gave children a great possibility to explore the world around them and gave them the freedom to be anything they wanted, using inspiration, imagination and creativity. They could indulge in a good book, paint, create their own games, ride a bike until midnight in summer, and learn empirically how to live life to the full. Appreciate real friendship by knocking on their mate’s door and say ‘Do you want to play?’  Face to face conversations, interaction with the community or even improve their writing skills with a pen pal in Palestine!

Children in the past played outside freely, in the street or the woods, which gave them an innate common sense from a very early age, something that is being lost today. They could sort the vicissitudes and inconvenient much more cleverly.  They were aware of their surroundings and danger. In psychology it has been said that a child that was able to play with ‘mud’ in their childhood was more likely to have had a happier one. It permits the contact with nature, improves motor skills and through imagination and role play, children absorb more, understanding social skills and structures.

I feel we have lost a magical, unique moment. Nowadays children in the West are a clean cut of a surgery ward. They have grown up in a super safe, antibacterial, pristine, healthy environment padded away from awkward circumstances, protected to the point that they do not know life as we knew it, with the good and the bad. Some parents seem to have fallen in to the denial world of excuses, turning their children into absent-minded subjects, disconnected to the world around them.

The loss of the sense of community has contributed for the formation of self-contained little bubbles, isolated and detached from what is happening next door, electronic devices are taking over our lives or transforming some to virtual lives.  Unless children are building software, most likely they are consuming, therefore having everything done for them.  Some marvellous aspects of childhood are killed in this endless hours of “e-consumption”: curiosity and necessity that could be converted into creation, inventions, and solutions.

Internet, instant communication, electronic devices have made our life simpler in many ways and in others have created dependency, emptiness and frustration. There is no excuse, for example, for parents to say that their child would not stop using the iPad. Who is the parent and who is the child? Who is in charge? I often ask myself.

A good idea would be restrict the hours spent on computers, regulate the time for playing computer games on the weekends, provide children with extra curriculum clubs and music lessons, turn the TV off when it has exceeded the agreed time. Maybe by forcing them to get bored, children would start thinking, grabbing the pen and planning, drawing, writing, kicking the ball, reading, playing their instrument or just watching the clouds pass by. 

Carousel by the sea

Sweet strawberry and bubble-gum candy floss aromas filled the air. The twilight was dyeing the sand and the sea orange. The vibrant, high pitched fairground music was loud and powerful, attracting children and adults like bees to flowers. People were arriving from all directions creating a dense and protective circle around the carousel – undoubtedly, the fair’s main attraction. Majestic explosion of sparkling colours emanated from the intermittent bulbs.  

As they waited, the prospect that soon it would be their turn to ride in a magic transportation filled them with anticipation. Sitting in those rigid, shiny and immortal horses, they would become knights and princesses galloping free across an oneiric field. 

The expected moment arrived! Up they went holding the pole strongly, feeling the breeze of the seaside caressing their skin and playing with their hair whilst seating up right waiting to be rocked by the fluctuating movements. 

A little girl, refusing to put her lolly pop down (already having her teddy in her the other hand), was holding on to the pole with great difficulty. Determined, she regained control with one finger and managed stubbornly to stay put. Dizzy with laughter and excitement, up and down she went, round and round, gaining a speed that appeared to transform the carousel into a flying saucer. 

“I do like to be beside the seaside”, a red haired woman was singing at the top of her voice, moving her right arm as if she was conducting an imaginary orchestra. The little boy in her lap, who was overwhelmed with happiness, burst out laughing as the platform continued to rotate. She kissed his petite ginger head and kept singing along on the carousel by the sea.  

The bursting sky. Guy Fawkes Night.

By Lorena Villegas-Cid 

‘Bang, bang!’ thundered a luminous glittery powder falling from the sky like a cascade. For minutes, the explosions were brightening up the street, revealing the procession of hundreds of souls walking cheerfully towards the big Guy Fawkes Night on the hill.

People were carrying seats, umbrellas and torches. Wrapped up warmly underneath four, or even six layer of garments, they were ready to weather the low temperatures of November. Woolly hats, gloves and scarf could be seen almost all around. Colourful Wellington boots protected everyone from the sticky, muddy field, which did not seem to bother any of them.

Once on the hill, the firework show was transforming the night into day. Full of excitement, a couple were pointing at the sky. “Look Lizzy, look!” They tried to persuade their daughter. However, refusing to watch, the little girl stood uninterested with her hands in her ears, trying to block all the noises.

Near the almost extinct bonfire and sitting down comfortably on a deck chair, an old man with a shawl over his legs enjoyed a tea from a big, old fashioned flask. The steam emanating from the cup was thick and clearly defined, slowly disappearing every time he blew onto it to take a sip.

“Wow!” the crowd gasped when the firmament turned utterly green. The fizzles and whistles were resonating in stereo, followed by a big round of applause.  Almost immediately after the Red Serpentine graced the sky; leaving long and random colourful trails of fireworks for everybody to admire.

The smell of gunpowder was strong and unavoidable, mixing at times with the distinctive aroma of the hotdog van, strategically positioned in a busy corner. The sizzle and the crackle of the sausages played like a melody, enchanting everyone around. Right at the back, as if in a parallel universe, the funfair was throwing a loud, bright party in a self-contained little world. Carnival music, a wheel of fortune and a carousel were offering rides and adventures, seemingly indifferent to the bursting sky.

Suddenly, next to an ancient oak tree, a tearful and confused little girl was shouting ‘mama, mama’. A long yellow mac was covering her entire body, properly dressed for the drizzle that fell intermittently. Her eyes were fallowing every single person passing next to her.  Hopeless, she failed to recognise anyone in the obscurity of the hill, so she started to sob inconsolably. The crowd was moving capriciously in all directions so the girl could be seen only at times. From the tumult appeared a woman running towards her at last. “Mama!” the child exclaimed.  Both mother and daughter hugged each other tightly, relieved to have found one another. 

The temperature started to descend, a dense fog gradually began to cover the field and the drizzle was turning into a copious rain. The final act was still to come, so everybody stood stoically with heads up to the sky waiting for one more pyrotechnical act. Regardless the inconvenience, the night was still not over.

The autumn playground

The timid sunshine was partially illuminating the sky. The end of the summer was near.  The level of light and position of the earth started to change, soon to meet the autumn equinox.  Already a handful of brown leaves had fallen prematurely from the trees, building a velvety, patchy carpet on the deep, green grass.

The park benches were perfectly located looking south. Some people, like the lizards on the rocks, were resting there perfectly static trying to catch the last bits of sunrays left from the season.

Protected by a low multicolour metal fence, the almost brand-new Ely playground offered the most gracious and traditional rides. A couple of big boys could not get enough of the merry-go-round. Faster and faster they went, that their feet could not catch up with the velocity of the platform and inevitably one of them ended up on the padded, rubbery ground, unharmed and doubled-over with laughter.

A blond little toddler was rocking with such expertise on the frog spring ride, that many were could not help themselves but admire her perfect curls dancing away with the backwards and forwards movements, sustained for several minutes with no vacillation. At one point, it looked like she was about to fall, but she fooled everyone. 

 On the opposite side of the park, the swings were taking two skinny teenage girls higher and higher. They wanted the reach the sky every time they bended their long legs to gain momentum. A squeaky noise was accompanying the act like a background song, and was ticking perfectly in time like the beat of a metronome.

The slide was reserved just for the experts. Fifteen steps to the majestic summit from which the view was unique and infrequently seen by the youngsters. The way down was a path of a shiny metal, so smoothly and evenly crafted, that it guaranteed a fast and unique journey.  A young boy took the risk and with the help of his father climbed to the top to see the world from a different point of view. He spent few minutes there before summoning the strength to slide down. He landed magnificently on his feet, like an expert Olympic gymnast. He even opened his arms and greeted everybody who could take notice of his heroic act.

After a while, a big, bulky, nimbus cloud covered the sky gradually. The air turned cold, the light became grey and dull whilst the wind began to sway the leaves. Threat of rain was suddenly clear.  Nonetheless, the children continued to enjoy the park.
Rapidly, the smell of food was easily perceived… possibly a curry? The fried onions were clearly detected and inevitably inviting.
The clock struck 5 and a mother shouted impatiently from the distance to her offspring, “Time to go home for tea!” 
“Yes mum,” her boys replied, assuming they could not extend their time at the park, kicking some small stones as they were leaving the playground with long, sad faces.

The Brighton carousel

Sweet strawberry and bubble-gum candy floss aromas filled the air. The twilight was dyeing the sand and the sea orange. The vibrant, high pitched fairground music was loud and powerful, attracting children and adults like bees to flowers. People were arriving from all directions creating a dense and protective circle around the carousel – undoubtedly, the fair’s main attraction. Majestic explosion of sparkling colours emanated from the intermittent bulbs.  

As they waited, the prospect that soon it would be their turn to ride in a magic transportation filled them with anticipation. Sitting in those rigid, shiny and immortal horses, they would become knights and princesses galloping free across an oneiric field. 

The expected moment arrived! Up they went holding the pole strongly, feeling the breeze of the seaside caressing their skin and playing with their hair whilst seating up right waiting to be rocked by the fluctuating movements. 

A little girl, refusing to put her lolly pop down (already having her teddy in her the other hand), was holding on to the pole with great difficulty. Determined, she regained control with one finger and managed stubbornly to stay put. Dizzy with laughter and excitement, up and down she went, round and round, gaining a speed that appeared to transform the carousel into a flying saucer. 

“I do like to be beside the seaside”, a red haired woman was singing at the top of her voice, moving her right arm as if she was conducting an imaginary orchestra. The little boy in her lap, who was overwhelmed with happiness, burst out laughing as the platform continued to rotate. She kissed his petite ginger head and kept singing along on the carousel by the sea.

Magical Mystery Tour

LIVERPOOL. Diciéndole adiós a una ciudad única! Su gente, su historia, su peculiar forma de vivir la vida; siempre con una sonrisa y amabilidad. 

Fue un viaje de lujo con mi cachorrito, mágico y sanador - además con una compañía sin igual!! Beatlemaniacas chilenas de tomo y lomo!

Me voy con el corazón lleno de lindos recuerdos que atesoraré siempre! 

Foto desde la gran torre radial con una vista espectacular de 180 grados. En el fondo el río Mersey y Liver Building.

Algo de historia.

Corrían los años 90, esa despreocupación natural de la juventud en vivir la vida apresuradamente sin pensar en futuro ni consecuencias, ni menos madurez.

Tiempo de finales de universidad, un boleto de avión, y miles de sueños en la meca de la música inglesa, que lleva una gran disputa con Manchester.

Viajes incansables, turismo, historias, experiencias. Besos en el aire sobre el Ferry cruzando el Mersey, canciones de antaño como banda sonora.

Tuve de cara al pasado mismo en carne y hueso, y es una de las mejores cosas que me pudo pasar. Cerrar un ciclo inconcluso no tiene precio!

Long live to Liverpool!