#rn5

[hoshimirufuri]

[carbrochurespl]

Renault 5 Alpine 1976 brochure #renault5alpine #5alpine #alpine #rn5 #5 #renaultalpine #vintagerenault #classicrenault #1976 #70cars #renaultbrochure #prospektysamochodowe #carbrochures #hothatch #frenchcar #lecar #five @renault_france @renault_pl (w: Poland) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cgw_S_7o1Ny/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[reeyver27]

The collective holiday tree. #lowlight #noflash #RN5 https://www.instagram.com/p/BqHFhf6AG2FKwMPPlRdv56sFK_X2HZYX1F_14s0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=5sxy3kkj58tv

[robertoirustablog]

Todo bajo control #like #redminote5 #Ewelink #googlehome #RN5 #Nice #miremote #luces y #televisores #allofcontrol (en Ciudad Autónoma de Buenos Aires) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpLvqzAlrpG/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1k0zer1qvgj7t

[triumphando]

Origen: Uyuni (9:30h) Destino: Sucre (17:10h) Km: 341.3 Tiempo: 6:13 Consumo: 3.9 l/100Km Alojamiento: Hostal Potosí 45 BOB

Parece mentira lo que cuesta volverse a poner en marcha. La idea era salir ayer, pero no había hecho los deberes y tenía todas las bolsas por hacer y me faltaba ver que le había pasado a Paraguaçu. Así que tocó un día más en Uyuni para hacer tareas de mantenimiento.

Paraguaçu no tenía nada grave: un tornillo perdido y el soporte del parabrisas y del espejo izquierdo roto. Creía que con cola de esta de dos tubitos podría con todo, pero no, el soporte del retrovisor no aguantaba, así que intenté fabricare uno con una abrazadera y una plaquita. Cuando fui al planchista ver si me lo podía hacer me dio una opción mejor: a tres cuadras hay un taller de motos. Me recordó al “Taller Juanías. Reparaciones a golpe de maza” en mi pueblo, donde tantas veces había trasteado la CRM80 que aún tengo ahí (y que algún día tocará volver a arrancar).  Rápidamente encontraron un soporte para retrovisor que me servia. Mejor de lo esperado!

Hechas las maletas y con la moto en orden, tocaba ponerse en marcha. El hombro me molesta un poco, pero creo que aguantará. De Uyuni a Potosí la carretera mantiene la altura alrededor de los 4000msnm entre subidas y bajadas. Es una carretera con buen asfalto llena de curvas. No sé si es la altura, el hombro, la presión de los neumáticos (que olvidé subir) o un poco de todo, pero me cuesta sentirme fluido encima de Paraguaçu. No voy cómodo, pero voy tranquilo.

Con un par de paradas llego a Potosí. El hombro me molesta un poco pero no me duele. Potosí es una ciudad con mucha historia, puede, pero es feucha la pobre. Su mayor atractivo es visitar las minas (que no me apetece) y comprar dinamita en el mercado para tirar un par de petardos (que ya no se puede). Visto lo visto, como algo rápido, subo un poco la presión de las ruedas y me voy hasta Sucre.

De Potosí a Sucre el paisaje cambia completamente. Una constante bajada  Tye hace descender 1500 metros. La temperatura sube. La vegetación aparece y el tráfico se incrementa. Sucre es una ciudad “grande” con mucha historia. Su centro colonial esta lleno de iglesias y casonas de la época. Fue la primera capital de Bolivia y antes de eso, con la Revolución de Chuquisaca, el origen del primer grito libertario de América.

Sucre Origen: Uyuni (9:30h) Destino: Sucre (17:10h) Km: 341.3 Tiempo: 6:13 Consumo: 3.9 l/100Km Alojamiento: Hostal Potosí

[hazelmoore]

Rule #5: Be a southern belle; never ever be the bitch → Hazel

Hazel looked around as she looked at her apartment. She felt exhausted as she fed Kaiden after their walk. She was tired beyond comparison. She had done too much today and she knew it as she bit her lip before deciding she could take a short nap as she shook her head and took off her shoes as she made her way towards the bed. She felt restless as she looked over towards her doll. It was a pretty one, the American Girl doll Samantha as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just a short nap would help. That doll though, she winced lightly as she thought of her mother. She couldn’t think about that now though, it was something that wouldn’t let her sleep as she tossed and turned finally feeling sleep ease her way into her mind. 

Hazel was eight when she finally found out who her mom was. She didn’t have a home, rather they passed the girl around from family to family until Mrs. Welsh finally decided to keep her around. She didn’t know anything about her family though. She knew her father was the mayor and the rest of it was complicated. Because she wasn’t taken care of all the time she had learned to cook for herself, making things here and there that she could besides sandwiches. Mrs. Welsh was elderly as she didn’t mind the drama and told her to not worry about things like that. Still she helped out as best as she could. She had been taught to clean and take care of the house while other children were playing and the only sentence she would get to as why was “Blame your mom darlin’.” She hated that as she didn’t know who her mom was, and she hated that she was the only one who didn’t have people to really come back too. 

When Mrs. Welsh said they were going to get ice cream Hazel smiled brightly. She loved ice cream and it was a hot day. Despite Mrs. Welsh telling her to go play outside with the other children, she knew that the other children would just make fun of her and stay away. At least that’s what their mom’s told them. She heard it before and she had gotten used to it. Most of the town had accepted her, but some still didn’t like her one bit. She didn’t even know what she did. She just wanted to be a good girl and suddenly that wasn’t enough for anyone anymore. It was fine when she was younger, but now? Not so much. She skipped along, her bracelet swinging with her, something she had gotten from her father, who wasn’t her family, she didn’t understand that as she finally made her way to the ice cream shop. She looked around and saw a familiar woman. She was always working and yet she didn’t know where she lived. Everyone kept her away as Mrs. Welsh told her to find a spot while she got the ice cream.

Seeing as no one was approaching or sitting near the women she walked over and sat down swinging her legs in the process. “Hi I’m Hazel! What’s your name?” She asked as the lady looked up horrified to see her. “You can’t sit here.” Hazel frowned as she looked at the women. “Don’t you know who I am?” She hissed as Hazel looked terrified at her. “N-no.” She stuttered as she felt tears in her eyes. The women looked at her and laughed humorlessly. “Of course you don’t.” Hazel blinked as the woman looked at her. “Hazel Moore get away!” Mrs. Welsh pulled her arm tightly as Hazel blinked and winced in pain. “What are you doing?” Mrs. Welsh snapped, as Hazel looked on petrified. “I’m just talking to my daughter.” The woman bit back as Hazel’s eyes widened. This was her mother? “You know you shouldn’t make her impure the town has worked so hard to keep her away from people like you. The type that causes problems.” Hazel felt herself being dragged away as the women looked at her and mouthed seven. Hazel knew what that meant as she nodded.

Around seven Hazel had finished her homework and meal as she asked to go outside to play. Still it was a lie, something Hazel didn’t excel at as she was glad Mrs. Welsh believed it and she ran towards the ice cream place. She only had a few minutes as she looked for the lady. She ended up sitting on a park bench as Hazel made her way towards it. She sat down as she looked over to see a box. “Here. It’s late but happy birthday Hazel.” Hazel blinked as she took out an old American Girl doll and smiled in delight. She had always wanted one but everyone told her it was too expensive. “Thank you so much!” She reached to hug her but her mom, or the women moved away. “You can’t hug me Hazel. I’m surprised they kept the name.” She said as Hazel looked confused. “How come we don’t live together Mommy?” She asked as her mother looked at her. “Sweetie I was the mistress of your father.” She looked confusedly as she tried to figure out what that was. “Don’t worry about it. But the reason we can’t...Well that’s why.” She said as Hazel nodded and looked. She didn’t want to argue she hated to argue. “It’s bad to be. We can’t associate with each other Hazel. They already hate my guts, the only reason they tolerate yours is because you weren’t part of it. Even if you’re part of me. They just think that your father got taken advantage of.” Her mother said bitterly as Hazel nodded still confused. Her father was a good person. That’s what people told her. “Hazel...Do you ever think for yourself?” She was surprised by the question and frowned. “Of course! I have a brain and you have a brain!” She pointed out as her mother chuckled. “Hazel why do you like strawberry ice cream?” She was surprised her mother knew that but she tried to think of an answer. “Because people said I should.” She didn’t know why but she felt that her answer was wrong looking at her mother face. “You don’t. They’re brainwashing you.” She looked at her mother upset. “No they aren’t! They say they’re nice people! They say that you’re bad!” Maybe that’s why people kept her away. Her mother was really confusing. “Sweetie I’m not being confusing they’re being rude.” She looked confusedly. “They tell you to be a lady don’t they?” Hazel nodded as her mother laughed hollowly. “Well I’m a bitch.” She winced at the swear word, knowing people weren’t supposed to swear. “You might understand later but for now you’re going to be late aren’t you?” She looked at the sky and realized she needed to be home soon as she nodded. “See you later. If you break the rules at least Hazel.” Hazel wondered if it was always this easy to let people you were supposed to love go. She didn’t know as she just wanted to go back and read a book or have Mrs. Welsh read one but she realized that her life for the first time she was questioning things she had always held to be true and her world was being turned upside down.

Hazel shot up tears running down her face as she felt her throat hurt. She must’ve screamed as she saw Kaiden coming quickly to her. She tried to stop the tears a she looked at the American Girl Doll. If she had never met her mom, if she had never went to get ice cream that day, if she didn’t have that memory, that’s when it started to go downhill. When the questions came, when the she had to learn how to not question, to be just obedient, when she started to make rules for herself so she could live in her town peacefully. She petted Kadien as he laid next to her and she petted him noticing it was late outside as she was afraid to sleep again. After all the rules haunted her that she made, and somehow they were the type that she still couldn’t break. She laid there as she felt herself becoming numb and for the first time she got here, she was glad she was alone. It gave her a time to be able to break down, and not have to explain it, to pretend that she was okay, to not have to worry about what others thought. She couldn’t break it that easily, people told her that she didn’t have to listen but they didn’t understand, she couldn’t just not listen, she had to, it was something that was programmed into her. Just like how she was meant for a lower life because of her mother. She shook her head as more tears fell and she curled up in a ball hoping that this time when she fell asleep this time the nightmares wouldn’t stay. She couldn’t be unhappy, that wasn’t allowed, was it because of herself or because of her town? She didn’t know as she felt herself slowly drift into a dream state as she thought about the number one rule she had.