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It’s always hard to say goodbye, for this reason I prefer to say see you later”. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up, I'll go to ��ѿ��ý website and other guy will be writing in the blog about his stories, new places, new cultures, new people. This is my last blog, my one last breath.

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Well, it's the last day of Summer in Britain! Or at least it's the end of BST - we all woke up in Britain today with an extra hour in the day! The clocks went back. I thought I got up at 9am only to discover it was now 8am! So, with that extra hour I thought I'd post my final blog for this month... it's November tomorrow! That means today it's ... 31st October! Be afraid, be very afraid!

Colin Strain sent the ��ѿ��ý this photo of himself at a Halloween party

Someone I met yesterday on the seafront at Brighton! Read on to find out more!

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Standing, on the top of the pyramide, I had a view of a growing city: the vanguardist desing of buildings, the shining light of a luxury resturant, People driving modern cars. Everything has been touch by the modernity except one place which was trapped in the past. This is the birthplace of our civilization, the origins of Lima culture. Their first inhabitants built this place exactly 700 AD. This place is known as "Huaca Pucllana". A "sacred place" in a forest of cement.

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Walking along the "Jiron de la Union" (the Jiron of the Union), a narrow street located in the Historic Centre of Lima, I saw a particular "casona" ( old house built during the sixteen century). My curiosity was stronger than me so I entered the house. It was impossible not to see him, his horns moving around his head, his bigs eyes looking at me, his big mouth draws an evil smile, He gave me the welcome, It' was too late to escape. He didn't tell me his name but, by that time, it was obvious. He was "the devil".

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Cead mile failte or a hundred thousand welcomes as we'd say in Gaelic to my first blog post for ��ѿ��ý Learning English.

I'm one of the newest members of the team so I thought I should finally say hello! I've been chatting to a few people on the message boards and working away on the website over the last 2 1/2 months. As an Irish addition to the team, I thought you might like to have a quick look at where I'm from.

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Hello Everyone!

I've been lurking again and reading with interest all your comments... Today I am going to answer some of the specific questions you have posted and to reveal the answer to the connection between King Henry VIII and the British obsession with ghosts!

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An old windmill give us the welcome. Many years ago this district was known as "Ciudad de los Molinos" (city of windmills), nowadays there is only one, which like a giant of Don Qixote, cares the entrance of this town. It was born at the end of a cliff and its spectacular landscape was the inspirations of writers, poets, singers and artists that left part of his live in this magic place called Barranco.

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Do you believe...in ghosts?

A strange question perhaps... but I have been thinking about ghosts ever since I read Miguel's post about "The City of the Dead"... and even now, having just read his latest post "In the name of Love", I'm thinking of a famous film - a love story from a few years back, called...

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In Miraflores a couple of giants have the longest kiss of their lives. They are loving in front of the sea, below the gray sky, above of the stares of curious people. Their bodies are not perfect, the silhouette of their figures are irregular, but they don't care about it, because they are genuine. The day could be sunny, cloudy or rainy but they will always be there. Nothing matters because they will love for all eternity.

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First of all, I have a confession to make - I've been both shirking and lurking! Just a bit! (By the way, those words rhyme... and here's a clue - with working!)

A man lurking outside a window looking in

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My friend and I took the taxi quickly, we were getting late. It’s almost 4pm, the sun just has gone and the cloud was turning on gray black. Sadith is my old friend, She was a little scared unlike me I was excited. We were going to meet to “El niño Ricardito” (Child Richard). He is seven years old and lives at “Presbitero Maestro cemetery”. He is dead.

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October 7, 2010.

"At first I thought it was a joke", said the writer, Mario Vargas Llosa, when he heard the Swedish Academy's announcement: "you have won the Literature nobel prize 2010".

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I still can remember the day when I was in the Earthquake. It was three years ago. I was walking along the boardwalk when I heard "that sound", it's not a sound like another. The windows of the houses started to shake. The ground started to move like a big wave. While I was hearing the first shouts, I saw a man kneeling praying "please Lord of the miracles save us"!

So begins the story of the lord of the miracles....

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First of all. Let me introduce me.

I'm 26 years old. I speak Spanish. I'm learning English. I'm a footballer (every Sunday with my friends). I'm a singer (only when a take a shower). I'm a good a boy (according to my grandma). I'm a writer (when a I feel sad). I'm a poet (when I fall in love). I'm a dancer (only in the discos). I'm a journalist (but I don´t have a boss). I'm a recently blogger (for this month). My name is Miguel and I'm from Peru. (the country where Machu Picchu is located).

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