Islander: Reflections & Considerations

My adventure in the island concluded happily the morning of Day 4 when some friends from DinDang came over for a visit. Although four days might not seem a very long time, the solitude of New Getaria and the continuous flow of events made those days some of the most instructive (and fun) of my young life. Hereafter a list of funny conclusions that I can draw from the experience:

Food:
Finding food in a tropical island -even if you are up to anything- is not an easy task. I reckon with a little bit more of experience I could manage to fish something bigger than crabs (on Day 4 I went fishing with one of my friends and we caught several decent-sized fish). The coconuts kept me running but on the third day I realized that my tummy doesn't like old-coconut juice (I'll spare the details). If you ever happen to see yourself confined in a tropical island after a shipwreck of similar, pray for a miraculous 7-Eleven, C1000, Eroski, Tesco or McDonalds (worst case scenario) around the corner!

Fresh water:
I got very lucky with water. I chose that beach, among other things, because of the spring of fresh water coming out of some rocks. Very convenient. It is important to remark that nobody should drink any water before tracking it down to its source. If you are in a truly deserted island there should be no contaminants (e.g. chemicals or cattle poo) in the water but just in case make sure this is true. If it tests positive you can always try digging up in search of some pirate's rum.

Shelter:
Once again I got lucky with the abandoned bungalow. Nonetheless I also found a list of strong contenders to replace my modest digs if necessary. A small cave, enough bamboo to build a small hut or even the improvised beach camp can suffice in a place where temperatures never drop below +20ºC. It's up to you and your skills but if time is on your side I'd go for the bamboo hut. Should that be the case do not forget to print my How To: Make Your Own Bamboo Table, a must in any castaway's library!

Tools:
Just one: a big inexpensive knife (unless you are given the choice of a satellite telephone).

Fire:
Lots have been said about fire in extreme situations. Most of it bullshit. Nowadays and provided the increasing amount of smokers it is fairly easy to find a lighter about anywhere. Moral: smoke! it can save your life.

Looks:
Being a wrecker doesn't mean that one cannot take care of their appearance. Or course not. Rambo-style bandanas, sleeveless shirts and dirty shorts would certainly increase your status among the islanders (I noticed that in Mr. ColaCao's eyes). I hope my castaway's fashion would serve as inspiration for future generations.

By now it should be clear that all this extreme survival game was nothing but a big joke. However and just for once I would turn serious to clarify something that has been disturbing some of my friends' and relatives' sleep over the last few weeks.

The biggest of the challenges during my time in the island was to manage the situation in responsible way. Although it might seem crazy at first, I can guarantee that the game had been planned carefully for weeks to avoid risks (to certain extent). Being isolated can be dangerous in itself. If something bad happens, even a small accident, it can have serious consequences. For that reason during my time in New Getaria I did never take any excessive risk such as climbing too high, swimming too far, eating suspicious-looking/smelling foods, etc. Moreover I made sure that my mobile phone had signal to allow one of my friends to check on my every night (+ I memorized the nearest emergency number). Finally and even though this will surely disappoint some of you I must admit that the island wasn't really deserted. Despite not interacting with them I knew of the presence of a few farmers and even some bungalow resort in the island. This facilitated help or food/water if desperately needed.

Three sentences to sum it up:

• It was a game and games are meant to be fun.
• I might be a little bit crazy but I am not stupid.
• What the heck, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life!

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Mi aventura en la isla concluyo felizmente la manna del dia 4 cuando mis amigos de Dindang vinieron de visita. Mas de tres dias en la isla en los que tuve la oportunidad de poner en practica unos cuantos trucos que siempre habia querido experimentar. He aqui una breve lista de recomendaciones estupidas (aunque ciertas) que he podido sacar de la experiencia:

Comida:
Encontrar comida - aunque no seas un morrofino - no es tarea facil. Creo que con un poco mas de practica hubiera sido capaz de pescar algo (la tarde que vinieron mis amigos fui de pesca con uno de ellos y pescamos algunos peces espada). Sin embargo los cocos fueron los que me mantuvieron en pie de guerra en la isla, y eso a pesar de que al tercer dia descubri que a mi tripita no le gusta el jugo de coco viejo (os ahorrare los detalles) Por ello, si te ves en la piel de un naufrago en una isla desierta, reza todo lo que sepas para que haya un Eroski o un McDonalds (en el peor de los casos) a la vuelta de la esquina.

Agua:
Tuve suerte con el agua. Elegi la playa, en gran medida, por el manantial de agua fresca que manaba de las rocas. No obstante he de recalcar que no es muy inteligente beber el primer agua dulce que te moje los tobillos. En mi caso trace todo el recorrido del manantial rio arriba para asegurarme de que no hubiera granjas (pesticidas o deshechos del ganado) que pudieran contaminar el agua fresca.

Refugio:
Tambien tuve suerte con la cabana abandonada. Sin embargo encontre unos cuantos candidatos a sustituirla: pequena cueva, bambu para montar una caseta improvisada, o el campamento en Nueva Getaria son algunos de ellos. Si el tiempo lo permite yo iria por la caseta de bambu, al fin y al cabo a estas alturas ya se como manejarme con el bambu.

Herramientas:
Si alguien os pregunta que os llevariais a una isla desierta la respuesta es facil: un buen machete (a no ser que os ofrezcan un telefono satelite, claro esta).

Fuego:
Mucho se ha escrito sobre hacer fuego en condiciones extremas. Tonterias! hoy en dia y dada la creciente poblacion de fumadores deberia ser facil encontrar un mechero en casi cualquier parte. Moraleja: fuma! puede que te salve la vida.

Apariencia:
Ser un pobre naufrago perdido de la mano de Dios no esta para nada renido con el estilo y la clase (juas juas). Moda primavera/verano, muchas transparencias y sobretodo imaginacion. En fin, espero que los espertillos de Cibeles tomen nota de mis pintras de piltrafas.

Por ultimo, y ahora un poco mas en serio, me gustaria acabar esta parodia con una nota aclaratoria que espero devuelva la tranquilidad a familiares y amigos que pudieran haber sufrido serias dudas sobre mi (in)estabilidad mental.

El mayor de los desafios que encontre en la isla fue sin duda el manejar la situacion de manera responsable. Aunque pudiera parecer una idea estupida y descerebrada mi estancia en la isla habia sido planificada durante semanas para evitar cualquier riesgo -dentro de lo posible. Siendo consciente de que estar solo puede ser peligroso de por si mismo, en todo momento en la isla trate de limitar los riesgos al minimo. Esto se traduce en cosas como por ejemplo no subirse a rocas mas altas de lo debido, no nadar demasiado lejos o no meterse a la boca nada que pudiera parecer sospechosa, entre otros. Ademas de esto me asegure de que mi movil tuviera cobertura lo que me permitia mantener contacto todas las noches con uno de mis amigos en Dindang. Por ultimo y aunque pueda defraudar a parte de los lectores he de admitir que no estaba solo en la isla (seamos realistas, hoy en dia es dificil encontrar islas desiertas). A pesar de que no interactue con nadie mas durante mi experiencia, era consciente de la presencia de campesinos e incluso pequenos complejos de bungalows cerca de mi campamento. Esto me garantizaba comida/agua y ayuda en caso de que fuera realmente necesario.

En resumen, se trataba de un juego y los juegos se presuponen divertidos. Puede que este un poco tocado del ala, pero no soy tan estupido como para arriesgar el resto de mi viaje. Y por ultimo, que leches, me lo pase como un enano!

Pics'n'vids: Islander

Islander Day 3: Castaway's Fun!

As if still dreaming my eyes opened slowly on day 3 to find my body surrounded by white sand. The sun and the roar of the ocean felt like an angry mum pulling the sheets of a lazy teenager. Five more minutes, please! I needed them, last night was better than yesterday's however I had to wake up several times to fight battalions of crabs attacking my quarters from every imaginable angle.

When I planned this challenge - I mean the Islander game - I conceived it as a 3-day experience. This means that today was my last day here. Yes, one more sunset and I would have achieved my goal.

Last days are meant to be fun. God rested, students party, ex-employees steal pens, ex-smokers smoke... I decided that during my last day in this island I should do all the fun stuff that castaways do. I started my day with a photo-shooting session. The ocean, the beach, my-terrible-looking-self, etc. During the photographic session I noticed that there were some things missing to make a proper castaway. For one my outfit. Where did those tattered clothes go? Nothing that can't be solved in five minute of conscientious tailor work. The second feature missing required a little bit more of work and loads of imagination. Ever since the beginning of the castaway times every respectful wrecker has been known to have a partner, a loyal companion, a soulmate, a friend. Robinson Crusoe had his man Friday, Tom Hanks got emotional with Wilson, but what about me? Well, I've got Mr. ColaCao! (who else). Boy, it feels good to have someone by my side.

After the photos it was time for a swim. The sun shinning in the blue sky and the crystal-clear waters made for a perfect snorkeling day. No big fish though. After a coconut lunch and a short nap I decided to try fishing. Grabbed my rod, my bait and climbed up the rocks. Disoriented fish comprised my initial target. I set the bait that I caught yesterday and sank the hook into the sea. Soon I noticed something pulling the fishing line. Wait. 1,2,3... off we go! Nothing (except for a shiny clean hook). Bastards. Second attempt, something pulling, 1,2,3... up! Dammit! Ok, let's try with something easier: smaller fish swimming amidst the rocks. Here we go... yes, yes, biting, yes, c'mon swallow b*tch... blaaaaast! You stupid son of Nemo! This went on and on until I ran out of bait. Overall catch of the day: two small crabs that didn't make it for a dinner, so I let them free anyway.

When the sun approached the horizon I had time for a last castaway's cliche: the message in a bottle. With the joy of a castaway who knows that the end is close I dropped a few lines hoping that someone someday will remember me. I rolled my message and put it in a bottle. I released it in the sea. I watched it float away, its silhouette shrinking until it became a small point. Then gone.

Congratulations Iñaki! you made it, you survived, you got your answer!

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Tras mi tercer amanecer en la isla mis ojos se abieron despacio para descubrirme rodeado de arena blanca. Los rayos del sol y el sonido de las olas del mar imitaban a una madre tratanto de despertar a su hijo para ir al cole. 5 minutos mas, hoy los necesito. A pesar de que la pasada noche fue mucho mas tranquila que la anterior, casi en media docena de ocasiones tuve que hacer frente a ejercitos de cangrejos que atacaban mi mosquitera desde todos los flancos.

Cuando planifique este desafio - jugar a Robinsones - lo concevi como una experiencia de 3 dias. Eso significa que hoy era mi ultimo dia. Un atardecer mas me separaba de mi objetivo. Los ultimos dias son siempre felices. Dios descanso, los estudiantes queman libros, los ex-empleados roban boligrafos y los ex-fumadores fuman. Por ello, en mi ultimo dia, yo me he dedicado a hacer todas esas cosas divertidas que me correspondian como buen naufrago. Para empezar una sesion fotografica. Playa, mar, mis pintas (y que pintas!)... espera, aqui falla algo. Dos cosas para ser mas exactos. Primero mi vestimenta, que ha sido de esas ropas desgarradas? Nada que no se pueda solucionar con 5 minutos de cuchillo y maña. Una vez atabiado como corresponde solo faltaba un detalle: mi compañero de aventuras. Todo superviviente de un naufragio que se tercie ha de tener un compañero de peripecias. Robinson Crusoe tenia al indio Viernes. Tom Hanks en "Naufrago" encontro alivio en Wilson (el balon de volley). Y yo? Pues yo tengo al Señor ColaCao, quien sino! El tiempo vuela en buena compañia.

Tras las fotos un bañito. Cielo azul, aguas cristalinas, dia perfecto para bucear. Un lastima que no hubiese peces. Despues de una breve comida (cocos, claro esta) y una siesta, decidi probar suerte con la caña (de pescar). Con mis aparejos de pesca en ristre me encarame a las rocas. Alli prepare el cebo (los pececillos que pesque ayer) y probe suerte en el mar. Primer objetivo, peces despistados. Al poco de echar la caña senti que algo picaba. 1,2,3... vamos que nos vamos, arriba! Nada, cebo limpio. Segundo intento. Venga que si, 1,2,3... arriba! C*bron de pez, se esta poniendo las botas a costa de mi cebo. Decidi probar suerte en las charcas entre lsa rocas. 1,2,3... traga, traga! arriba! Cajones! Y asi una y otra vez hasta que me quede sin cebo. Balance del dia: 2 tristes cangrejos que devolvi a las rocas pues no hacian ni una sopa.

El sol cayo sobre el horizonte dejandome tiempo para una ultima ceremonia: el mensaje en la botella. Con la alegria del naufrago que se sabe cercano a su fin, deje caer unas lineas con la esperanza de que alguien me recuerde algun dia. Meti el mensaje en la botella y la libere en el oceano. Luego segui la silueta hasta que desaparecio en el horizonte. Felicidades Iñaki, lo has conseguido, ahora ya puedes decir lo que significa ser un Robinson!

Pics'n'vids: Islander Day 3

Pic of the Week: Sunset In New Getaria

Islander Day 2: Noises In The Dark

The events occurred during the last night at the abandoned bungalow will remain in my memory as some of the most frightening moments of my life.

With the taste of cheap beer fading in my mouth I headed back to my improvised lodge for what should have been a second night of quiet (and sweaty) sleep. I encapsulated my body in the igloo of mosquito net. Like every night since I left home, I played the podcast "La Rosa De Los Vientos" (works better than Valium) and blew off the tiny sparkle of candlelight that kept my pupils from fully open.

It must have been during the first five minutes of the podcast that I heard it for the first time. Knock-knock! My eyes wide open. It sounded as if someone was banging the door or the front wall of my bungalow from the other side. Knock-knock! A second series of knocks made me realize that I wasn't dreaming. This can't be happening, I thought as the muscles of my ass tightened like never before. Sawadee krap! (standard Thai greeting), I replied loud yet fearfully. No answer. I got up to light the tiny candle. Hello? who's there? I sat on the bed waiting for an answer holding the torch on my left hand and the knife on the good one. After five minutes of silence my heartbeat finally commenced a steady descent. I ensured that windows and door were properly shut and crawled back into the mosquito net. Who the hell could be out there lost in the jungle? who would be as crazy (read: stupid) to wander around this abandoned bungalow in the middle of the pitch-black night? F*ck it! whoever he or she is must be much more scared than I am! I repeated this last sentence in my mind over and over trying to resume my sleep. It worked, however I woke up no less than 5 times throughout the night.

A few times in my life I've been so glad to meet a new day covered in sweat as this morning. I run down to the beach (knife in hand) for the routine morning swim. After last night's incident I needed the tranquility than only ColaCao can bring to me. I set an ever exotic breakfast consisting of coconut, (sort of ) milk* and the miraculous cocoa powder. I drunk it up and fingertipped the tasty lumps that scattered at the bottom of the can. After this I proceeded to my day-to-day activities. The number one item on my list for today was to build a fishing rod. I cut a bamboo stick and went up to the bungalow to fetch the fishing line and a hook. It was then, while searching my rucksack, that I heard it again. This time it sounded lower. Knock-knock! The door was open, there was nobody in the porch. Knock-knock-knock-knock! The sound fading in the distance. I run out, this time I had an allied: daylight. I completed a circle around the hut before I discovered the source of the noise: a 25+ cm long nosy lizard! You bastard, you scared the hell out of me last night! I went back inside and cursed myself for being such a chicken. But there was more. As if taking the mother of all the pisses a second lizard (also 20+ cm) materialized in the room. This one had reached even closer to my bed, it was glued to the wall no more than a foot from my pillow. You little f*cker, didn't want to miss the party, uh? I chased it away and went back to the beach.

Although the mystery of the noises had been solved, earlier that morning I had decided to spend tonight at the beach camp. I felt too lucky to have a bungalow and I wanted to know how it felt to be a real castaway even if it was just for one night. So, I collected some stones, some wood and built an improvised bedroom with vistas of the sunset.

Hours later, when the tide went out it was time for me to get some bait for tomorrow's assignment: fishing. I scanned the rocks and found what I was looking for: tiny fish trapped in natural pools. With my mosquito net and a bit of patience I managed to catch a dozen of them, not enough for a dinner but who knows, maybe they are the key to escape my monotonous diet (exclusively based on coconuts).

Dusk broke in a couple of hours ago. I retreated to my camp. This time I managed to set on the bonfire on my first attempt. I've reproduced the mosquito net + poncho mat igloo on the sand. Got the beer, the pen and the notebook. At last I'm writing these lines. The night is beautiful although I cannot see as many stars as the first one that I spent here. It's been a long day, a good one, but long nonetheless. I'm tired, I think I better try to get some sleep. Let's hope I don't get any unexpected visitors tonight. Talk to you tomorrow!

*I forgot to mention this in my castaway's shopping list. Somehow I figured out that I'd need a ColaCao in this island.

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Los hechos acontecidos la pasada noche perduraran en mi memoria como algunos de los momentos de mas acoj*ne de toda mi vida.

Con el sabor a cerveza barata todavia en la boca, enfile camino a mi improvisado refugio predispuesto a pasar la segunda noche de sueno (y sudor). Una vez encerrado en el iglu de mosquitera y chubasquero sobre el colchon, me enchufe a "La Rosa De Los Vientos" en mi MP3 y sople la timida vela que habia impedido hasta ese momento que mis pupilas se dilatasen por completo en la oscuridad de la cabana. No habrian pasado ni 5 minutos de interesante tertulia radiofonica cuando oi un ruido inesperado: Knock-knock! Mis parpados se dispararon. Parecia como si alguien estuviera llamando a la puerta de mi pequena cabana. Knock-knock! La segunda serie no dejaba lugar a la duda, alguien o algo estaba aporreando la pared frontal de mi bungalow. Los musculos de mis posaderas se estromecieron como nunca antes lo habian hecho (gracias a Dios no lo suficiente para que aquello acabase en desastre escatologico). Lleno de inquietud (in-)disimulada exhale un saludo en tailandes: Sawadee krap! Me sente en la cama, encendi la pequena vela y agarre machete y linterna mientras esperaba una respuesta desde el otro lado de la pared que no llegaba. Cinco minutos mas tarde mi ritmo cardiaco emprendio un descenso leve pero continuo. Quien podia estar tan loco (lease mentalmente perjudicado) como para andar merodeando un bungalow abandonado en mitad de la junga a esas horas de la noche? (Quien excepto un servidor, claro esta). Quien quiera que fuese posiblemente estuviera mas asustado de lo que yo estaba pues al fin y al cabo yo era el intruso que estaba okupando el bungalow. Me asegure de que ventanas y puertas estuvieran bien cerradas y me repeti mi ultima reflexion hasta que mis parpados calleron por puro cansancio. Esta noche me desperte un minimo de 5 veces.

Pocas veces en mi vida me he alegrado tanto de despertar en un horno. El sol de la manana me propuslo a la playa para mi bano matutino. Tras una noche tan movidita solo existe una manera posible de restaurar la tranquilidad: un buen tazon de ColaCao. Dadas las circunstacias he tenido que improvisar un desayuno de lo mas exotico: coco, sucedaneo de leche (incluido en mi lista de la compra a ultima hora, preveyedo que necesitaria un buen ColaCao en cualquier momento) y como no el oro en polvo marron! Tras el desayuno revitalizador he procedido con mi lista de quehaceres.

Objetivo numero 1: construir una caña. He talado una pertiga de bambu a la que adosaria el sedal y el anzuelo que guardaba en mi mochila. Fue entonces, mientras inspeccionaba mi mochila en la cabaña abandonada cuando lo escuche otra vez. Knock-knock! Esta vez mas silencioso. No puede ser! knock-knock-knock! La puerta abierta y sin rastro alguno en el porche... que ost*as! Con la luz del dia como aliado, he circundado mi bungalow para descubri que el misterioso instruso no era otro sino un curioso lagarto de unos 25 cm! J*der tio, si supieras el rato que me hiciste pasar ayer noche! En fin, leccion aprendida: Iñaki = caguica. Pero no, no ha acabado ahi la cosa. Como si se tratase de un festival del humor (conmigo en plan estrella invitada), otro lagarto Juancho ha hecho acto de presencia. Este mas cerca, adosado a la pared a menos de un palmo de mi almohada. Una vez me he librado de estos invistados inesperados he vuelto a la playa.

Aunque el misterio de los ruidos nocturnos ya ha sido aclarado, previamente esta mañana habia decidido que hoy pasaria la noche aqui, en el campamento de Getaria Berria. Fue un puntazo encontrar el bungalow abandonado, pero quiero sentirme un autentico naufrago aunque solo sea por una noche. Con ayuda de mi nueva caña, unas piedras, unas maderas y un poco de imaginacion me he currado un dormitorio 1000 estrellas con vistas al mar.

Mi siguiente tarea para hoy era preparar mi mision para mañana: pescar! Con la marea ya baja, he acudido a las rocas en busca de los pequeños peces que se quedan atrapados en las cubetas naturales. Con ayuda de la mosquitera y un poco de maña he pescado una docena de pezqueñines (no gracias, excepto cuando eres un naufrago) que me serviran de cebo mañana y quien sabe, lo mismo abandono mi dieta (hasta ahora cocos nada mas).

Y asi he llegado al final del dia. Fuego (esta vez a la primera), cerveza, boli y papel. Desde mi improvisado igloo de mosquitera y poncho/chubasquero veo alguna estrellas, nada que ver con la primera noche que pase aqui. Hoy ha sido un buen dia, largo y duro pero bueno. Mañana sera otro dia!

Pics'n'vids: Islander Day 2

Islander Day 1: New Getaria

From Day 1 on I decided to keep a castaway's diary in which I logged my daily routine. Hereafter I'll publish the entries as can be found in the written version:

I'm writing these lines by the fireside at my beach camp in New Getaria. I named this beach and the two neighbouring ones after the Spanish beaches that witnessed some of the best days of my youth.

Last night I slept smooth like a baby. I guess I was too tired to bother the roaring sounds of the jungle. This morning I woke up floating on sweat. The plastic poncho that I used as bottom sheet didn't allow any circulation from body to bed nor vice versa. Good, let's hope it stays that way.

Early in the morning I packed what I call the basic survivor kit and went down to the beach. I swam in the sea to wash my sweat off and completed the showering with a bath in the tiny pool of fresh water that I found yesterday. After that I set off to explore the shore. I went East, climbed some rocks and reached a new beach: New Zumaia. The strip of white sand runs for about 2 km before it reaches a mangrove area. I don't like mangroves (the characteristic layer of wet mud is home to some of the nastiest creatures I can think of) so I decided to head back West. Found some coconut palms (main objective of my morning expedition). However all of them were some 30 meters high and therefore I couldn't use the bamboo stick+knife technique that I learned in Paksong to pull the fruits down. Apart from the coconut palms I found some berries: small, tasteless and with no drop of juice. Useless. Back in New Getaria I hiked inland. About 100 meters from the abandoned bungalow I found more coconut palms. Goddammit! these guys are taller than the freaking Dutch volleyball player! It was lunchtime and I hadn't eaten anything since I arrived to this island so I decided to give a try to the old coconuts that lay on the ground. The "meat" felt like a boot's sole in my mouth but the juice tasted good.

In the afternoon I went to pick up some wood for the fire. I learnt my lesson yesterday so I put the smallest branches and leaves in one of the garbage bags of the survivor kit to keep them dry. I cut the big ones into smaller pieces and stored the lot in a conveniently located cave by the beach.

When the sun started its descent the tide got lower. I sat on the sand to check the island's voice mail. I had a message from Mother Nature. Up in the sky two sea eagles patrolled the rocks on the west side of the beach. I grabbed my pack and climbed some more rocks. Found another beach: New Zarautz. Gorgeous beach, the best of the three (as it is the case of the actual Zarautz). I closer look revealed what I was seeking. The sea eagles were fishing something at the far end of the beach. I walked there and found a clamp settlement but no fish (at easy reach). I dug holes for a while and found some clamps, not enough for a soup though.

When the sun set down I came back to my beach camp. Today I was decided to redeem last night's bonfire fiasco. I cleared a flat section of sand, brought the dry wood from the cave and stacked it up in order. Fingers crossed, first ball of fire... bsssss, smoke coming out... no, not again! shit! Ok, second attempt (this time adding some dry flurry straws). Smoke, blow, more smoke, blow, more white smoke, blow, sparkles, c'mon c'mon, blow... flame, yes, one last blow, YES, F*CK YES! I MADE FIRE! I know it's pretty lame, I used a lighter, but even then it was more difficult that one might think.

Tonight the sky doesn't offer the stunning view of yesterday. I reckon it's going to rain. Boy, one and a half day in this island and I haven't seen anyone. I'm hungry, let's grab some more coconut and another beer. This is going well. See you tomorrow, same place same time.

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Tras mi primer dia completo en la isla decidi registrar mi rutina en un cuaderno de bitacora. He aqui la transcripcion literal del Dia 1:
Escribo estas lineas al calor de la horaguera de mi campamento en la playa que he bautizado como Getaria Berria. He elegido este nombre en homenaje a las playas Guipuzcoanas que tan buenos momento me han deparado.
Mi primera noche en el bungalow abandonado transcurrio sin sobresaltos. El cansancio acumulado me permitio dormir del tiron. Mas que nunca esta manana se me han pegado las sabanas. Tal vez sea porque el poncho-chubasquero que uso de sabana bajera transpira menos que un calzoncillo barnizado. He bajado a la playa y me he pegado un bano para quitarme el sudor de encima. La sesion de higiene personal concluyo en la pila de agua dulce que encontre ayer. Tras esto he preparado mi kit de supervivencia y me he lanzado a explorar la costa direccion este. Tras escalar unas rocas he descubierto una nueva playa: Zumaia Berria. Aproximadamente 2 kilometros de area blanca que desembocan en un manglar. No se si lo he mencionado anteriormente por si acaso aqui va otra vez: odio los manglares. Arbustos espinosos y barrizal, en otras palabras, un spa 5 estrellas para culebrillas, reptiles e insectos a lo makinavaja. Visto el percal me he dado la vuelta. 3 palmeras, demasiado altas para usar mi depurada tecnica de pertiga de bambu + cuchillo que aprendi en Paksong. De vuelta en Getaria Berria he estudiado el terreno que rodea el bungalow abandonado. Mas palmeras, misma historia. Joder, estos arboles son mas largos que una resaca de Martini! Nada, me he tenido que conformar con los cocos viejos que rodeaban la base del cocotero. La 'carne' es mas dura que un filete de 5 pesetas pero el jugo se deja beber.
Tras la comida he ido a cortar lena para la fogata. Ayer aprendi la leccion y no iba a dejar que la lluviera me aguara la fiesta esta vez. He recolectado ramas y hojas secas en una de las bolsas de basura de mi kit y luego he cortado lenos mas grandes que he puesto a buen recaudo en una cueviella cercana.
Hecha la labor me he sentado a descansar. He obserbado a mi alrededor a ver si alguien tenia algun mesaje para mi. En efecto, dos senoras aguilas de mar han respondido a la llamada. Mochila al hombro y segunda expedicion, esta vez direccion oeste. Tras otra sesion de escalada basica he llegado a una nueva playa: Zarautz Berria, la mas bonita de las tres (como en la Zarautz gipuzcoana). Las aguilas estaban pescando marisco y peces que habian quedado atrapados en las rocas por la bajamar. Y alli me he plantado yo, al mas puro estilo mejillonera do Rias Baixas con mi cuchillo y mi lata. Nada, un par de almejas que no han dado ni para una misera sopa.
La noche se me ha echado encima asi que he vuelto a mi campamento playero. Hora de la verdad, seria capaz de montar una hoguera esta noche? He sacado la lena de mi despensa improvisada y la he apilado de manera ordenada. Primer intento: bola de papel en la base del ninot, humo... ssssssss, fiasco! Segundo intento: ahi va la bola de papel otra vez... humo, soplido, humo blanco, soplido profundo, destellos de luz, trata de arrancarlo por Dios, trata de arrancarlo, columna de humo y... SI, J*DER SI, FUEGO!
Y asi es como he llegado a este momento: playa, fogata, cerveza, cuaderno y cielo parcialmente cubierto. Creo que va a llover. En un dia y medio por aqui no he visto ningun alma. Esto va bien, a ver como se me da manana!

Pics'n'vids: Islander Day 1

Islander Day 0: Time To Find Out

Here it goes another adventure to delight my relatives and friends during those get-togethers, and I can assure you guys that this one tops my personal list.

It all started when, as a child, I read Daniel Defoe's classic "Robinson Crusoe". I was fascinated by the challenge posed by the author: surviving in a tropical island isolated from the rest of the world. I always wondered how I'd cope with such situation if one day I found myself in the shoes of the Scottish castaway. The same question came back to my mind years later when I watched the movie "Cast Away" and again the first evening I saw "Lost" with my friends in England. The initial curiosity became a small obsession. I needed to know. I needed to find out. Could I survive in a tropical island isolated from the rest of the world? and if so, how would I do it?

Last week I said goodbye to my friends at Din Dang determined to find out how much of castaway there is in me. I visited a near farming gear store and a convenience shop to complete a special shopping list that I had been thoughtfully composing for more than two months:

• Knife
• Garbage bags
• Lighter
• Candles
• Torch (Flashlight)
• Fishing line + hook
• 4 cans of beer

I put the new items into my stinky rucksack and hitchhiked 42 km to reach a small pier near Ranong. A few hours later I arrived to the small island that I had carefully selected to stage my adventure. I said goodbye to the boatman and set off in search of a beach to set up my base camp. Just before dusk I found the perfect location: a small stripe of white sand enclosed in a quiet bay and flanked by dramatic rocks on both sides. Three features supported my choice: a spring of fresh water, shade (trees) and the abundance of mollusks on the rocks.

My next goal was to find shelter for the upcoming night. A careful inspection of the area and the 'beginner's luck' gave as a result an abandoned bungalow on the forested hill that rose up from the beach. The place looked quite shabby -full of litter and dead insects- but the roof seemed reliable and the darkness of the night was too persistent by then to turn down this option. I cleaned it up and set my mosquito net. I also unfolded my raincoat over the mattress to avoid any unfortunate contact with bed-bugs.

So far so good, in less than 5 hours I had found fresh water and shelter, not bad. Around 9 pm I went down to the beach to face my next challenge: fire. I collected some branches and what seemed to be dry leaves. I stacked them up and fed the lot with a flaming ball of paper. Smoke came up but it vanished after a short while. I tried again. Same outcome. Once again. No luck. After my fourth attempt I realized that it had probably rained before my arrival to the island and therefore the leaves might not be that dry after all.

That night it took me some time to understand that my first failure wasn't so. Almost by accident In the middle of my desperation I looked skywards only to discover one of the most breathtaking spectacles of nature: thousand of stars staring back at me embraced by an endless milky way. No words to describe it. I savoured my first can of beer as I tried to sketch the few constellations that I learnt in my childhood. Soon my eyelids became too heavy to sustain them open and so I decided to head back to the spooky bungalow were I was to spend my first night in the island. Sleep tight Iñaki, this has just started!

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He aqui otra de mis aventurillas para el deleite de familiares y amigos en esas largas sobremesas. Prepararaos porque esta es de las buenas! Todo empezo cuando suendo un nino lei el clasico de la literatura "Robinson Crusoe". El reto propuesto por el autor, sobrevir en una isla tropical, me fascino desde el primer momento. Pasaron los anos y peliculas y series de television me devolvian a aquel sueno de ninez, seria yo capaz de sobrevivir como lo hizo el famoso naufrago escoces?

Cuando aquella manana me despedi de mis amigos de Din Dang tenia un proposito claro en mente, descubrir cuanto de Robinson corre por mis venas. Asi pues pase por dos tiendas del pueblo y complete la lista de la compra que habia preparado concienzudamente durante meses: Un cuchillo, unas bolsas de basura, un mechero, unas velas, una linterna, anzuelo y sedal y cuatro latas de cerveza. Tras un viaje en autoestop de 42 km me plante en un embarcadero cercano a Ranong. A primera hora de la tarde llegue a la isla que habia seleccionado cuidadosamente para albergar mi aventura. Me despedi del barquero y me adentre en la isla en busca de una playa para levantar mi campamento base. A ultima hora de la tarde encontre el lugar perfecto, una pequena playa asentada en una bahia tranquila y flanqueada por rocas que la hacian virtualmente impenetrable. Otros argumentos a su favor eran el manantial de agua dulce que yacia de una roca y la abundante sombra que me daria cobijo en las horas mas calurosas del dia.

La noche se me echaba encima y debia encontrar refugio para dormir. Una busqueda minuciosa y mi suerte de principiante se materializaron en forma de cabana abandonada. Monte mi mosquitera y extendi mi chubasquero sobre el colchon para evitar el contacto con las chinches (que como las meigas, haberlas hailas). En menos de 5 horas habia encontrado agua y refugio, nada mal para un principiante.

Sobre las 9 y ya de noche baje a la playa para afrontar mi siguiente reto: hacer un fuego. Recolecte hojas y ramas secas y las amontone ordenadamente. A pesar de disponer de un mechero y algo de idea mis intentos no daban resultado. Tras el cuarto deduje que seguramente habia llovido esa manana asi que las hojas no estarian tan secas despues de todo. Minutos despues entendi que mi primer fracaso no era tal. Casi por accidente, levante mi mirada al cielo y descubri uno de los espectaculos mas asombrosos de la naturaleza. Cientros de estrellas me devolvian la mirada mientras la via lactea surcaba el firmamento como una bufanda de seda. Y asi, mirando al cielo y tratando de dibujar las constelaciones, saboree la primera de mis cuatro cervezas. Pronto mis parpados se tornaron demasiado pesados para mantenerlos abiertos asi que decidi emprender camino a mi cabana. Descansa Iñaki, esto acaba de comenzar!

Pics'n'vids: Islander Day 0

How To: Make Your Own Bamboo Table

Did you ever wonder how to make your own bamboo table? Yes? Sure? Well, this must be your lucky day because here and now I'm going to show you how you can easily build the one and only Iñaki's Original Bamboo Table!!!

1. Run to your neighbourhood's closest rain forest with a big knife and grab some juicy bamboo. Beware of the mosquitoes, spiders and snakes that hang around since they can make your working day a bit less fun!
2. Back at home saw the bamboo stick into pieces and chop them off using the same Rambo-style knife. Whenever it's possible use globes to avoid the nasty little pieces that get stuck under your nails.
3. Cut, saw and polish other pieces of wood to make the frame of the table. They don't need to be perfect but at least make sure that you count a minimum of four legs (a recent study showed that 3-leg tables fail to hold an average-sized watermelon 67% of the times).
4. Assemble the previously arranged items with a handful of nails and one hammer. If everything went fine up to step #3 it should be easy. If things get overcomplicated, use the POWERRRRR!!!
5. Convince your friends to come over for an exciting IKEA night, give them some bamboo and let them do the easy stuff (cutting and varnishing)! Just joking. Thank you Linda, Marieke, Marion, Elsa and the rest of the girls for your help, you know I couldn't have done it without you!
6. Enjoy the 1-week lifetime table that you just built, take some pictures and write about it on your blog!

That's all, I hope it's clear. Enjoy yourselves and remember working with bamboo is always fun!

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(Lease usando la voz del barbas de Bricomania) Buenas familia, hoy vamos a construir una mesa de bambu de manera rapida y sencilla. Tan solo necesitais un punado de herramientas basicas y un poco de imaginacion. Venga amigos, vamos a por ello!

1. Baja hasta el bosque tropical del barrio y corta unas cuantas canas de bambu. Ten cuidado con los mosquitos, aranas y serpientes ya que pueden hacer tu dia de diversion un poco menos divertido!
2. De vuelta en el taller usa tu cuchillo/guadana Black&Decker 2000 para trocear las canas de bambu al tamano aproximado.
3. Tala, sierra y pule otros listones para fabricar el marco de nuestra mesa de bambu. Recuerda que no tienen porque se perfectos pero asegurate de disponer un minimo de cuatro patas (estudios recientes evidencian que la mesas de 3 patas no son capaces de sostener una sandia de tamano medio en mas del 67% de las ocasiones!).
4. Ensambla los anteriores elementos. Si todo ha ido sobre ruedas hasta el paso numero 3 esta tarea debe resultar sencilla. Si esto no fuera asi haz uso abusivo de la FUERZA!!!
5. Convence a tus amigos o a los mas pequenos de la casa para que te ayuden con las tareas mas sencillas. Pideles que corten listones para el tablero y que los barnicen pero ten cuidado de que no mueran intoxicados (los accidentes ocurren). A que es siempre divertido trabajar en familia!?
6. Por ultimo disfruta de tu mesa de bambu durante la semana que durara hasta que alguien la rompa. Recuerda sacar bien de fotos y escribir sobre ello a tus amigos pues de que sirve constuir una mesa si no puedes chulear sobre ello?!

Pues nada mas familia, nos vemos en el proximo BRICOMANIA Especial Bosque Tropical. A pasar buena semana... agur!

Gezellig World: Din Dang Natural Building Educational Centre, Thailand

And now it's finally the time to reveal what I've been up to these busy weeks. As I've said repeatedly on this blog, I'm the kind of traveler that enjoys doing things rather than staring at them. Bearing that in mind during the planning of my trip I searched for projects where I could learn stuff that nobody teaches at school or at uni. One such initiative is Din Dang Natural Building Education Centre. The project -founded in 2007- is located in a small Thai village called Paksong in the area of Phato. It aims to promote ecological and traditional building techniques and it does in the most pragmatic way: by getting your hands dirty!

For three weeks I had the chance to share a wonderful time with Bow (the head of the project) his delightful family, and a bunch of volunteers from France, Holland and Thailand. We built stone walls, lay some clay, cut wood here and there, nailed this and that... but above all, we had a terrific time together!

Beyond the handworks, what I would like to highlight from projects like Din Dang is the opportunity to get soaked in the culture of a foreign country. Visiting a school, walking through the local market, observing carefully how simple things are done, watching the daily routine of the villagers, sharing a beer with them, tasting a fruit offered by a friendly monk, chatting about life, learning a new recipe... those kind of things are what make the different between a real traveler and a mere visitor. Here a modest advice from an aspirant to globetrotter: if you ever have the chance to take the next step, don't hesitate, you'll discover a new world that has been lying in front of your eyes all the time!

More info about Din Dang at http://www.dindangcom.page.tl/

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Y por fin llego el momento de descrubir que demonios he estado haciendo estas ultimas semanas. Como ya he mencionado en varias ocasiones no soy el tipo de persona que se conforma con observar las cosas a su alrededor, siempre me gusta dar el siguiente paso. Por ello, antes de comenzar mi viaje recopile informacion sobre proyectos en los que pudiera aprender algo util, el tipo de cosas que no te ensenan en la escuela. Asi es como di a parar con el Centro Educativo En Construccion Natural Din Dang. Esta especie de campo de trabajo fue fundado en 2007 en la bella aldea de Paksong (region de Phato). Su objetivo primordial es promover tecnicas de construccion ecologicas y tradicionales de una manera practica.

Durante tres semanas tuve la oportunidad de convivir con Bow (organizador del campo), su acojedora familia y un grupo de voluntarios franceses, holandeses y tailandeses. Juntos construimos paredes de piedra (ahi queda mi homenaje a mi padre y a mi tia Esther que hicieron algo parecido no hace mucho tiempo atras... saludos!), mezclamos arcilla para la construccion, cortamos madera... en fin, un festival de la bricomania de andar por casa!

Sin embargo, lo que me gustaria destacar de proyectos como Din Dang es la oportunidad que ofrecen de empaparse en la cultura de un pais. Visitar una escuela, explorar un mercado local, observar con detenimiento como se hacen las cosas, aprender una receta nueva, charlar sobre las preocupaciones mundanas de las gentes del pueblo... ese tipo de cosas son las que marcan la diferencia entre un viajero y un viajante. Aqui va mi modesto consejo de trotamundos, si alguna vez teneis la oportunidad de dar el siguiente paso no dudeis, solo al darlo descubrireis el mundo que se esconde justo en frente de vuestros ojos.

Mas informacion sobre Din Dang en http://www.dindangcom.page.tl/

Pics'n'vids: Din Dang & Around