CTMandR: Thanks for your comment! Glad you liked the pics!
k50dude: Thanks for your... Thanks a lot!
Retep Molinari: Thank you too for your comment! I'm looking forward your next CJ!
After a week of hard work, here comes the update. As you'll see, I've photoshopped the pics a little bit, but I'm not very happy with them... You'll give the veredict!
Carrer de la Sorra (Sand Street), Cap de la Plata, 12:21 a.m.
I was called from the Central far away from the Downtown. I had to go to Cap de la Plata, which is really far compared where I tend to go for picking up customers. I left the newspaper in the backseat, as usual with the frontpage facing upside.
"Where do we go, sir?" I asked in Catalan. I knew that the most part of Cap de la Plata residents are Catalan-natives.
"¿Can you take me to 51, Leno Street, please?"
"No problem, let me type the address on the GPS..." I knew where was the street, but I wasn't sure about the shortest route. The woman inside the device show me this route:
I started the taximeter and the engine, and looked for Carretera del Penyasegat (Cliffhanger Road). This should be a continuation of Atlantic Avenue, but there wasn't enough room and enough traffic to make such an upgrade.
"What a sun, huh?" I said, putting on my sunglasses.
"You're right. It isn't normal this Fall days."
"I don't know. Blame the climate change."
"How are temperatures in the City?"
"I'm all day long inside the car, so I'm not the appropiate person to be asked..." I said, smiling.
"I see." My customer rang a bell on me. I thought I had seen him before, somewhere.
I took Cliffhanger Road heading north; while looking to my customer through the mirror; he was right now checking the Metro newspaper. Then, I concentrated on the road, it is a tricky one and there's a lot of traffic.
We were passing besides the closed coastal restaurants when I finally asked:
"Do we know ourselves?"
"I don't think so. Maybe you know me."
"How?" I asked.
"Modestly, do you watch TV?"
"Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays at midnight." he said. Then I knew.
"Oh, no! You're Andrew Goodfountain! How have I been so blind!"
Andrew Goodfountain is the most well known comediant in Alarconia and one of the most popular faces in the nation. He runs "Goodfountain" a late night show full of humours monologues, sketches, interviews and this kind of things.
"I'm sorry but I don't watch TV that usually."
"You don't have to be sorry about it..." he replied without problem.
"Can I ask why are you going to Leno Street? I don't remember any special structure there."
"I'm going to see a friend of mine, he's sick at home."
"I see..." I said.
We were near the Ciutat d'Alarcònia (Alarconia City) municipality line. This is North Cap de la Plata, made of some factories, the city power plant, the city cemetary and a dozen of small farms.
We entered in Alarconia City passing by Cliffhanger Field, the home field for Cap de la Plata Avengers, an LAFA (Lliga Alarconiana de Futbol Americà) (Alarconian American Football League) team. We left Cliffhanger road and turned left to take Carrer de les Carbasses (Pumpkins Road)
We were running besides the rusty elevated Metro tracks.
"I guess you've carried many really famous people here..." Andrew said.
"Well, famous... During the last months I've carried an opera singer and the Ministry of Economy. Sometimes I carry football players and other times TV people, like you. But nobody really famous."
"What do you mean with "really famous"?"
"For example, I think I'll never see Britney Spears sitting where you are."
"She's got her own limo."
"That's what I'm saying." I said.
I kept on Pumpkins Road and then turned right, looking for Avinguda de Ricatxons (Ricatxons Avenue). We were near Ricatxons Velodrome, the symbol of the Alarconian economical rising during the 20th century, although this neighbourhood had been a little dilapidated the last months.
Traffic was really light here and I drove the easy way.
"Maybe you have the opportunity of carrying somebody important the next day."
"Why to you say this?"
"Seems this Rammstein band is quite famous..."
"Rammstein! The paper is talking about them, right? I love their music!"
"Seriously? I had never heard anything from them."
"They play the kind of music I play on this car when I'm off-duty."
"Are you going to the concert tonight?"
"I bought my tickets months ago..." I said confidently.
I turned right taking Carretera dels Arquitectes (Architects Road) and then left, to take the A3 Motorway, known as the Intra-City Motorway. It runs east-west going from here to the National Landfill and the island's west end.
"Do you want to hear something from them?"
I turned off the radio and selected one of the CD's I had loaded in the audio system. It was Rammstein's last album and some seconds before, heavy guitars were sounding inside the taxi.
Andrew told me to switch them off in 0:58 seconds of playtime of their first song. He said it was enough and maybe he would use it in tonight's program. I got back to the radio. We were passing besides the Parliament Building, former USSR Embassy, seen in many entries before. At our right hand we had the Sea Mountain Residential District, very near Allianz Arena.
Some dozens of meters later, we were passing besides Districte de l'Acer (Steel District) and over Carretera de l'Acer (Steel Road). It is named like this because this is the first place where the Metro line was elevated. One of the new Metro trains was accelerating over the highway and I thought I liked them.
"Do you thing I should talk about Rammstein in tonight's program?"
"As you said: Why not?"
"Are they well known?"
"If you like this kind of music, yes; but they are still far from being mainstream."
"Tell me where's the concert and I'll tell you if they're mainstream or not."
"HSBC Arena, in West Americana."
"Maybe. I don't care if they are or not."
"Well done." Andrew said.
[EDIT: Never mind the free-air swimming pool, people doesn't tend to go swimming in December.]
I went off the highway in the third exit, which was under the shadow made by the building my customer was going to. It was one of the big hi-rises in this part of the city, we were now in Porta de La Florida (La Florida Gate). The worst part of living here is having very cute sights of the National Landfill, the Industrial Zone and PetroAlarconia Complex.
I turned left, taking finally Leno Street and making the GPS device go quiet. I parked where I could in that street full of traffic, and then I stopped the taximeter.
"There will be 37.85 AL$, Andrew." he was looking in this wallet. The photograph on his ID card seemed very old.
"Here you are 40 AL$. Keep the change and if possible, watch the show tonight!"
"Sure I'll do! Let's see what do you say about Rammstein... Good bye!
He shut the door and I saw him going into the building. Then, I started again and headed to the downtown. At least there I would be protected of that heavy sunlight.