2026-03-01

el emerito atrapado. no puede el Borbón abandonarAbu- Dubai bajo el alcance de los misiles iraníes astigo divino por las judiadas que hizo vendiendo a España a sus enemigos seculares

 Nadie sale, nadie entra

:Caos en el aeropuerto de Dubai

Vuelos cancelados ++ Multitudes abarrotan la sala de salidas

Esta foto se supone que muestra la sala de salidas.

Esta foto se supone que muestra la sala de salidas del aeropuerto de Dubai.

Saltar reproductor TTS

Dubái: Turistas de todo el mundo aprecian Dubái no solo por sus playas limpias y su buen clima. Para los viajeros, es importante poder llegar y salir con tranquilidad: en el amplio y moderno aeropuerto de la ciudad de los Emiratos Árabes Unidos, sin huelgas ni retrasos importantes.

Desde el sábado por la tarde, todo ha cambiado: reina el caos en el aeropuerto de la ciudad de los Emiratos Árabes Unidos. Los viajeros se apiñan en las salas de embarque; ¡nada se mueve! La gente quiere abandonar el país, normalmente pacífico y ordenado, que ha estado bajo ataque iraní con misiles y drones desde la tarde . Pero no pueden: las aerolíneas han suspendido los vuelos y el espacio aéreo está cerrado.

Nada se mueve: los pasajeros en el aeropuerto de Dubai deben tener paciencia.

Los pasajeros del aeropuerto de Katmandú (Nepal) deben ser pacientes porque sus vuelos han sido cancelados.

Foto: REUTERS

"Es un caos absoluto aquí."

Un turista alemán contactó con BILD. Describió la situación: «Hay un caos absoluto en el Aeropuerto Internacional de Dubái. Miles de personas intentan salir de la terminal. No hay salidas, los trenes entre las terminales están averiados. No hay anuncios ni personal». Un turista alemán de 30 años declaró a BILD: «Llegamos el viernes y reservamos una semana en Dubái. Tras el ataque con drones al hotel de cinco estrellas, queríamos volver a casa lo antes posible. Pero eso no va a suceder».

“Tripulaciones, aeronaves y pasajeros están varados en todo el mundo”, declaró una fuente de una aerolínea del Golfo. “Es una pesadilla logística descomunal”. Los mapas de radar de vuelo en línea mostraban un espacio aéreo prácticamente vacío sobre Irán, Irak, Kuwait, Israel y Baréin.

Dubái cierra aeropuertos y Lufthansa cancela vuelos a Oriente Medio.

El Aeropuerto Internacional de Dubái (DXB) y el Aeropuerto Internacional Dubai World Central – Al Maktoum (DWC) están cerrados hasta nuevo aviso; las operaciones permanecen suspendidas el domingo por la mañana. Lufthansa ha cancelado vuelos a varios destinos en Oriente Medio. Un portavoz informó que el tráfico aéreo hacia y desde Dubái se suspendió el sábado y el domingo . Las conexiones hacia y desde Tel Aviv, Beirut y Omán se cancelaron hasta el 7 de marzo. British Airways, Air France-KLM y la aerolínea húngara Wizz Air también suspendieron sus vuelos. La Agencia Europea de Seguridad Aérea (AESA) recomendó a las aerolíneas que eviten la región afectada.

¡Cancelado! Muchos vuelos desde Dubái han sido cancelados.

Un panel en el Aeropuerto Internacional Tribhuvan (Nepal) muestra los vuelos a Dubai y Qatar que han sido cancelados.

Foto: REUTERS

La aerolínea dubaití Emirates también suspendió los vuelos a sus bases. La autoridad aeronáutica anunció el cierre del espacio aéreo como medida de precaución. Aerolíneas asiáticas como Cathay Pacific también suspendieron sus operaciones en la región.

Según datos de la firma de análisis Cirium, alrededor del 24 % de los vuelos a Oriente Medio se cancelaron el sábado. «Pasajeros y aerolíneas deben prever que el espacio aéreo de la región permanecerá cerrado durante un tiempo», declaró Eric Schouten, director de la consultora de seguridad Dyami.

El Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores alemán publica consejos para viajeros

El Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores alemán publicó una advertencia de viaje en su sitio web: «Se desaconseja viajar a los siguientes países y territorios: Israel/Territorios Palestinos, Líbano, Jordania, Siria, Irak, Irán, Baréin, Kuwait, Omán, Emiratos Árabes Unidos, Arabia Saudí, Catar y Yemen». Aconseja: «Si se encuentra en la región: Regístrese en la lista de preparación para crisis del Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores (ELEFAND). Informe a otros alemanes sobre esta opción. Manténgase informado. Tome en serio las advertencias de ataques aéreos inminentes. En caso de alarma, busque refugio inmediatamente en edificios cercanos o dentro de un edificio y manténgase alejado de las ventanas. Manténgase informado sobre la situación actual a través de los medios de comunicación. Siga las instrucciones de las autoridades y las fuerzas de seguridad».

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INTERESANTISIMAS ESTAS DECLARACIONES DE UN EX CIA TRUMP HA METIDO LA PATA. CERRADO ORM,UZ NOS QUEDAREMOS SIN PETROLEO. SE VENDRÁ ABAJO LA JUDEOCRACIA

 https://youtu.be/H8xLryKGAjQ?si=zCn-1WR2eNbM7UR7

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2026-02-28

NETANJAHU, trump y demas comparsas adoradores de bajal, y de molok son quemados en teheran

 https://youtu.be/mnSHPC1gZVg?si=aOH4C1gw56AeJXcK

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israel perderá esta guerra que será la tumba de trump y de todo el sistema creado por eeuu con visos de democracia una guarida de ladrones maquiavelicos y destructores de la cultura ewuropea dios escribe al derecho con letras torcidas

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VOY A LONDRES A VER A MI HIJA HELEN Y NO ME LA DEJAN VER. EN EL ALMA SE ME CLAVÓ UNA ESPINA QUE LLEVO GRABNADA HASTA LA TUMBA

 UNA VISITA A LONDRES

Posted: 22 Dec 2018 02:26 AM PST









New years Eve 1986
I just had been searching for the whereabouts of my daughter Helen for sixteen years. That was a pin in my heart and it hurt. Silly of me all that time wondering and thinking and being restless. When I boarded that plain in Barajas only had an address in Epping obtaining though a letter from a relative in the Telegraph a year before or so. The Bolton’s were a close knitted family, had a kind of allegiance stemming from their old clans. They were mixture of Welsh and Irish. I took a plane with a meagre sum of a few pesetas ignoring that the standard of living has gone up, too. England had joined the Common Market, an I remembered – how could I forget- that New Years Eve, Edward Heath being premier, it was an obscure day with an early sunset and London looked a ghostly town, and it went to bed English and dawn found the big nation European. However they never ceased to be British. Union Jack, John Bull, Christmas Pudding, bacon and eggs, porridge, the bath on Sunday Evenings and Psalms, and No Sex, please, we are British, as the title went of a famous comedy by Michael Douglas Hume staged at Sohotheatres in may days, the good old days. Off course, England went European but the Red Lion continued non-stop in its insularity. Yes I remember that Sylvester Evening of 73. Loneliness at my digs and I went looking for Helen.
My life those days was a recipe of mischievous sequels of complains and grudges without following the recommendations of never complain never explain. Suzanne who was a good observer made a good remark about us. “You are a bunch of complainers or quejicas, she said it in Spanish and to a certain extent she hit the nail right on the head. Nevertheless our lack of constancy, our apathy that certain tendency of blaming somebody else’s for our own failures is nothing compared with perfidy the passionate coolness of John Bull looking at every one with high brows. The British could be very supercilious and hypocrites. We, Spaniards, are big liars.
Thoughtfulness had been one of my defects, but, full of courage of determination, I felt like an Spanish conquistador when boarding that Jumbo full of madrilènes going, as usual for the Christmas shopping Oxford Street like in the good old days and English Nationals from mixed families.
The woman next to me was a teacher in Torrelodones and I think she was going through a bad patch on her marriage coming back to mother I suppose. Innocent and careless as I always used to be and thinking that everybody is cheerful and in a good mood – in my youth I read a lot the Gospel and thought that the true life had to be the perfection Jesus taught in his parables thus I became an utopian a dreamer and also naïf or rather a practitioner of panphilia (in the Greek meaning of the word) and that believe or philia turned to phobia when I grew older but I cant get rid of those spells of good expectations and believes in mankind, they sometimes appear when I feel in good mood. With that attitude you are bound to disaster, Hillary. You build walls without countermark. Houses of sand but the Lord forgives you, idiot
I also thought and was mistaken that planes going to Heathrow were like those friendly trains I took when I was living in Doncaster where everybody talked to each other offered cigarettes and partook sandwiches with cups of tea from the thermos apart of confess to strangers the sins of your life. So here you are again sitting in a plane that is taking you to Perfidy Albion. I always liked impossible things; perhaps was the reason of my infatuation with that country. In the University took Anglo-Saxon for speciality and dreamed of that paradise of robin hood’s wood, full of bishops, courtiers, minstrels, castle, the lady leaning out of the window, Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare, the chants of the Beowulf, English tea, Alec Guinness, London fog, the shoes of a bobby, Alf Garnett, the carry on films, pints of bitter, rides in the double-decker bus, travel with my aunt, squalid living in digs, the smokes of a pipe, Anglican priest and sextons extinguishing candles in old cold churches neither cibary nor remonstrance no images nor saints no rosaries the cult of the Lady finished, Our Lady’s chapel closed for good. Henry the Eight and Anna Boleyn. Crammer and Thomas More. I had confusing idea of all that. May be my perception was misgiving. Bur I always was the odd man out. I liked things my way. Larry, you are going to be dashed to pieces. No. England was much less convivial. The good old days of the post-war year the swing sixties and the couldn’t-care-less seventies had given way to the iron days of the Iron Lady the flogging of the TUC and the mind of the I am alright Jack. More individualistic and rich mouths became more reserved.
I did not try to chat the bird but I explained to the woman that I was going to England trying to meet my estranged family. Oh God perhaps she was in the same boat. Her marriage was falling to pieces like mine was years ago and I could not recover from the psychological impact on me. I gathered she hated the Spaniards. She talked to me in Spanish but when the plane reached the English aerial dominion she shifted to her mother tongue and became derogatory and incriminating almost rude.
        “Oh dear. Larry, you always get yourself into trouble. Better you should have kept your mind shut”.
We went into an aerial bump and the whole plane started to shake. Bad omen. We landed in Gatwick with nearly an hour delay. The schedule was a Heathrow landing but three was something wrong with one of the engines or the wings the pilot did not explain and the crew were also a bit shaky. It was a freezing day. Took one of my expensive cigars and started to puff in the middle of the arrivals area. People looked at me startled as if I were a Martian or something.
        “People don’t smoke tobacco nowadays in this country. Only cannabis”
        “Oh dear Larry you always landed into trouble. Su said that you always land in your feet –it was one her favourite ready made phrases evaluating me-.
But elle etait trompé. I have been an unlucky sod most of my days but it serves me right for moaning all the time as if I were Jeremiah. Never explain never complain, the old adage goes. We live in a classless society and, since childhood, the Spaniards of our generation believed in rank, hierarchy, suffered from piles, insecurity complexes and guilt and were under the rod of confessor-maniac. We had no principles, only those of the Catholic Church. And those big words and ready made speeches deliver to our under conscience in remorse, oh you dirty rascal, you have wet dreams and scatology by degrees. We believed in rank, hierarchy, principles, those big words and ready made speeches delivered to our subconscious in long academic evenings of tedium only to fodder our indomitable ego.
Needless to say, excited as I was in that winter morning [December brings with the dew of the cold night melancholy of time past] in 1986 a year after than we moved house and went to live outside Madrid before the flood of immigrants in our capital and I felt on top of the world. At last travel as in the good old days. I have become a no person since Franco died. But now I was roaming the spaces holding tight in my pocket that letter in which a Heagerty, senile, with bending and not so firm scripture, gave the address of the Hughs. Pie and the sky around the world was mine. Trouble with you matey is that you have watched many a film and through that you lost contact with the real world.The image of Britannia o Baodicea ruling the waves represented to me. I was the lord and master of my destiny. I saw looking below the big waves like tiny spots of froth and the Ocean a big mass of dark blue magma, the morass where our fight began. The vertical pond hiding the Infinite. The horizontal flatness portraying the idea of endless purposeless. It must be cold down there. There I was riding the storm. Very excited 













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 ISTMAS IN MY LONDON DAYS. THE PASCUAL SERMON OF THE ARCHIBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. HOW I MET HIM WHEN HE WAS A NORMAL PRIEST ATTENDING A LONDON CONGREGATION AT EMPTY CHURCH. Antonio Parra Sadness and drabness empty streets with echo of cheering bells. I remember one Christmas Eve in Saint Chads Parish South Kensington. The Anglican priest officiated for a congregation of two people an old lady with hat the prayer book in her hands and myself. Congregations those days like now were scarce. Nearby the shop of Harrods was full to the brim. Él vino a los suyos y los suyos no le recibieron, says John in the last evangel. The priest wore a cassock of Henry the VIII days but the cannon was intact. Te igitur clementissime pater but the magnificent Latin translated to archaic English words and there he was with alba and the maniple and the cincture of chastity. That evening it was a cold day and a grey light dropping tears of rain went through the gothic windowpane words and benedictions only for the old lady and me. He wore the red ornaments of the martyrs. It was saint Thomas Becket day. There I found that the church is eternal. Although empty. The solitude of Christ confirms that part of the great mystery. The priest let me sing the epistyle from the rostrum and my voice resounded in the empty aisles with the recite of the Gospel of Nativity. In those magic words (prasepium, no room for them in the inn) were concealed the mysteries of incarnation. In mundo erat et mundum per ipsum factum est et mundus eum non cognovit. In propia venit et sui eum non receperunt. Quodquod autem receperumt eum dedit eis potestatem filios Dei fieri, his qui credunt in Nomine ejus qui non ex sanguine neque ex voluntate carnis neque ex voluntate viri sed ex Deo nati sunt (genuflexion)Vino a los suyos y los suyos no lo recibieron pero aquellos a los que High theology in a few phrases. I felt the joy and the sadness of Christianity. It reminded me of my own life and my own sins. Faith is to believe in something that we never saw or have seen. I was looking for my daughter Helen and I found her but my in laws and my ex did not want to receive me. The sons of the spirit are higher that the sons of the flesh. In propia venit et sui autem non receperunt. I came to my people and I found the doors of the inn complete closed. No body answered my calls like the poor family of Nazareth. No place for me poor sinner in the diversorium. No room no inn. That was also part of the mystery of my Xmas Days. The rules of the blood are different from the rule of the Holy Spirit. That was the reason. That was the key. Christmas usually is sad melancholy day. Because of that. We are sons and daughters of God no sons and daughters of the blood and flesh. What I did was to pray for my little one. She was a tug of war child. And also I pray for my ex. She had undergone an operation to extirpate a cancer from her throat. She came well and now she lives in Cornwall a retired old lady like the one who attended Mass with me at that Christmas Eve many a year ago, 35 years have gone. I am still trying to contact them. But still all I have is rebuke. No. No. Still I pray God asking to keep them well. Great sins have I ought committed to deserve such an ill treatment. A father who is denied access to his daughter. That is no a human right? We live in the age of paradox. My daughter is a neonatal nurse. Works as a matron in a London hospital. My ex an school master lives in retirement. Still there is the sadness, the joy of the nativity of out Lord and the melancholy of the evening London light coming through the altar where that priest with an air of boredom and tiredness consecrated the body and the blood of Christ. That young parson later on became the actual Archbishop of Canterbury. Hoc est enim corpus meum. In a way that Anglican presbyter fascinated me by his parsimony he has a vivid stare and eyebrows like an owl and I always was very interested by the Church of Canterbury. Great archbishops men of learning and prayer occupied the See created by saint Austin an occupied by St. Thomas Beckett. Canterbury always has had an independent leaning toward the secular power. Politically the head of the Church of England is the Queen by the spiritual power lays on the primate of Canterbury and also in the See of York. I remember Dr Runcie and Ramsey and also Dr. Fisher. They called him the Red Archbishop only because he tried to establish a pact of no aggression with Russia. Nowadays the actual successor of Saint Austin has criticized vividly the usury and lack of sensibility of Capitalism towards the underdog and the ones in need, those who bear the crunch of the big crisis. Christ is true has spoken through the mouth of His eminence. Dr Cowan is gaunt big and lean man highbrows that make him look like an owl. His homilies and sermons need to be taken in consideration by a materialistic society. And hit the first pages of the tabloids, He is a great theologian. And also a reflection; while Rome according to its tradition always alleged with the powerful of this earth other churches try to preserver the real tenets of the Gospel. Spiritus ubi vult expirat and Dr Rowan Cowan has spoken in the line of the real ecumenism. God bless him. Today I have officiated with him as a deacon the great mass of the nativity in the solitude of my room. He came to his own and he was not well received by them. Why? Because he proclaimed the Truth. Thursday, 25 December 2008

ESPAÑA MI NATURA
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