Feliz Ano Nuevo

It's a new day, it's a new dawn

It's a new life for me

And I'm feeling good

- Nina Simone, Feeling Good

So this is how 2009 starts.

I'm in the dorm, listening to the rain and typing on my laptop. John Coltrane's playing on youTube, and I'm waiting. Soon enough, that magical moment will arrive when my traveller's card ticks over and all those lovely euros pour from the ATM and into my wallet. My mind's half drowning with gluttonous thoughts.

Sevilla's not much fun with only 5 € in your pocket. 

****

It's 4:00am in Melbourne at the moment, so I imagine the birds have started singing in the pine trees behind my bedroom window. They start pretty early in the summer. In about an hour or two, the sun will rise. The inky blackness of the sky will bleed into a deep, intense blue, and then fade away as the first rays of the sun hits the atmosphere. The sky will turn a vivid pink, and then an orange and then will be all but forgotten as the sun crests the horizon and shines upon a new day. 

****

The rain's stopped, and John Coltrane's stopped, and I'm still waiting for the hours to tick by. It's been like this for about a day and a half now. It's certainly put a dampener of the new year. 

I spent the first half of New Year's Eve trying to figure out how I'd manage to stretch 5 € over two days. I wandered aimlessly through the mazy side-streets and peeked longingly into cosy little bars and restaurants. I stood in the Plaza Nuevo as the clock struck midnight, as the firecrackers burst, as everyone started sipping champagne and munching on grapes. 

I spent the second half of it trying to get drunk in a bar by the Alameda de Hercules. Met up with some people from the hostel who shouted me a couple of drinks. It's difficult when you're living on the charity of mates, and it's even tougher when you're faced with the distinct possibility that you're a pauper but for a single paper note in your wallet. 

It's doable, though. 

****

Had a look at the dashboard widget just before, and it's 4:30 in the morning. 

It's the 2nd of January in Australia, and it's almost time now - it's just a matter of hours before the dawn of the first business day of the year. I'm hoping it's the start of a new dawn for me as well. For you see, I transferred the fund from my bank account to the traveller's card a couple of days before New Year's. It takes two business days for the cash to get through to the traveller's card. And as the day dawns and the transactions start to flow, that longed for moment will arrive...

And I'll know how I'll feel. 

Twelve grapes

At midnight on New Year's Eve, church bells chime twelve times, once for each month of the year. People have twelve grapes in their hands, and they try to eat one grape for each chime. If you manage it, you're blessed for the next twelve months. 

It's a neat little tradition.

Being thinking a bit about this year. It's been a strange one, an interesting one, and ultimately a rich and rewarding one. I'm a bit numb at the moment, and my mind kind of flits in and out, but I'm pretty bloody grateful that I'm here. The novelty of travelling has mostly gone, and most of it is pretty mundane. But every once in a while, you get this little thrill at being in these strange new places. 

It's something I hope I never lose. 

I'm down to my last €4 euro, though, so it'll have to be window shopping and Burger King until my funds top up. I'd probably starve if it wasn't for Burger King. 

Reyes and Sevilla

"Despite global warming, London is still too cold for him."

- Arsene Wenger, on a homesick Jose Antonio Reyes

In the early 2000's, Arsenal were top of the pops. We were powerful and strong, with world-class players along every line. We were stocked to the brim with leggy French brilliance, and we ruled the Premiership. 

What's more, we played with elan. 

Our golden boy of that time was Jose Antonio Reyes, late of Sevilla, and one of the most promising kids around. He was the symbol of our coming dominance. He was fast and unpredictable, and gooners were wetting themselves thinking of the partnership he'd strike up with Thierry Henry. Good times lay ahead.... Premierships, Champions Leagues, even Carling Cups.

It didn't turn out that way, of course. Abramovich came along, and Chelski was formed. We sold Vieira, we sold Pires, we sold Henry, and we're sinking slowly into the morass of the middle reaches of the Premiership. We're terrible at the moment, and we've all got the horrible notion that nothing's going to arrest our slide. 

And of course, Reyes got homesick and eventually went home to Spain. 

While I was in Madrid, I didn't see what the point was. Madrid in winter's a nice place, but chilly. It doesn't snow, but there's a bite to the air that's definitely uncomfortable. It's not much different from London, I suppose. 

Now I'm in Sevilla, I can see what the fuss was about. It's the middle of winter, and it's 17 degrees. People stroll around at night in windcheaters. Today, there's a glorious blue sky and a freshness to the air that sets your pulse a racing. It's a far cry from dreary, wet London. Even in summer, London's climatically unimpressive.

Frankly, considering the weather in Sevilla, I'm surprised Reyes lasted that long at Arsenal.