As Seen by Me : Episode 2 : On the street

 

In Budapest last Autumn

Round and round it goes, where it stops, nobody knows

I have a new flat, and with it come new DIY ideas and opportunities. A new flat is like a canvas, this gave me the opportunity to do something I've wanted to do for a long time. We've both wanted it actually. Without further ado, please be amazed by my map of Europe. These are all the places I've been to and I cannot wait to get out of Europe.

The blue and green pins represent places where I've been or lived. The white are places I'd like to visit and I will or might go in the foreseeable future.

I'll also list them here when I have time, so you can ask me about them. Because yes, I remember them all. There are still some pins to be put on the map; I ran out of green and blue ones, but I still have plenty of white pins left.

Back in the Czech Republic (1) Going Home

Well, the holidays are over. No more mistletoe, no more holiday cheer. Gone are lazy days playing cards and all sort of games with friends. The food has been eaten; the champagne has popped and flooded our glasses with sparkling wonder. The last firecracker was heard and we are back to work.

What I wish you all is what I wish myself for this year, and for every year: health and strength to go through all that the New Year has to offer, good or bad. For me, 2009 has been a good year, as I already told you but I find it strange when almost everyone around finds it was a terrible year. The crisis may account for that I think. But even with the crisis (which at one point turned into a big personal financial crisis), overall I found the strength, humor and love to pass all the difficulties. So I wish the same for this year.

The holidays passed like a charm and here I am back at work, back home in the Czech Republic. Yes, home, because on the way over it hit me that I was actually leaving one home for the other. The flat in Plzen is not just "the flat" but it's "home" You're going to say I did a lot of thinking...well yeah, because on a 20 hours bus trip, there is little to do but think. And try to sleep. And call the police with unfunded warnings about turned over buses but more about that later.

My fans want to know about my latest adventures, so without further ado I will start from the top: Going to Romania for the Holidays. I think this will generate another post, but I'll see about that later. What you must know about this trip is that I did not plan it in advance. So here I am middle of December, without a ticket to get back home, planes and trains are too expensive, Eurolines are booked out so I find myself having to reserve a ticket from a strange bus company. Why strange? You'll see. And to make things even nicer, the three days before my departure I made so many miles, going to Prague, going to work from Prague (at 5 o'clock because I had forgotten some papers. Yes, AM), then going on a business trip, coming home, going to a Christmas dinner, going back home, packing...On the morning of the trip I was exhausted.

So here we are, December 23rd, I leave my nice flat in Plzen, and the boy takes me to the bus station, where I take a seat on one of the last places in the Student Agency coaches. First off let me tell you this: Student Agency is the way to travel in CZ. No pub here, just facts: comfy seats and a nice hostess giving you a free hot drink: coffee, good hot chocolate, tea, and putting on a movie for your viewing pleasure (with English subtitles). All for the price of a normal coach ticket. If you manage to find places that is. The trip to Prague: bliss, I even stroke up conversation with the lady sitting next to me, yes in Czech (well very poor Czech).

From there it all goes downhill. Picture this: me with a huge luggage, half empty but just as heavy as if it were full and a smaller bag meant to hold all the food I'd bring back (I had a large order of sarmale, carnati and other Romanian delicacies). The next part of the trip was so long and difficult (thank God I didn't have to change metros, from Zlicin to Florenc it's all straight and they do have some elevators but I still had to carry my huge coffin-like bag up and down) that I was glad to reach the coach station and hopeful that the worst was behind me. I still had some time to kill before my coached arrived so what do I think? let's get a burger and chips from Burger King, cause you know, I usually like the burgers here. Well yeah, the burger was ok (at 10 o'clock in the morning) but the chips were awful. Yes awful. Stale. And cold. And did I mention awful?

Being a bit nervous, and afraid I'll miss the coach (it could happen, especially with my track record: missing busses and trains is a specialty of mine), I go to the toilet for the last time and then I go wait for the coach on the quay. And a good idea that was: it was already full, mostly of my compatriots, but also Bulgarians, Ukrainians and Moldavians. All working here, more or less legally. And now you will understand why I said strange when talking about this company, you see, I had no ticket. Nothing. Just a phone call with a guy who said I had to pay 500 crowns up front, but if I couldn't, I can get my ticket from the Ukrainian girl that will be at the coach. And so I go to look for Irina who gives me my ticket in exchange for some crowns (cheaper than Eurolines) and also a business card with her phone number and those of the company. And she also sells me another ticket for the way back, with another business card. (it's a leitmotif that one).

Coming down from a coach with a hostess and getting on another coach with a hostess, I think to myself (mummy >:D<) I'll get a decent ride after all. And then I see the other girls, Moldavian, Ukrainian, hostesses like Irina (Ludmila and Iulia) and they are all nice, frail girls, well dressed and wearing make up, showing the Slave heritage very well. But they boss around the hordes of workers, telling the guys where to sit and the guys listening, despite some (futile) resistance. And they give candy too. But the trip was made without the Slavic goddesses, only the two drivers remained, the same who put the luggage in a very irrational way and then started smoking on the bus. By this point I was like in a mafia movie: strange looking characters, lots of men wearying big rings and a longer pinky nail, longer hair at the back and shorter in the front (80's style) or other strange hairdos and I've even spotted the blade of a knife (I was carrying an Opinel myself).

Half an hour later, bags packed in reverse order (Bucharest bags where somehow to the front of the pack), men put at their seats in the rear and girls traveling alone at the front, couples seated together, candies distributed, and we're off.

(to be continued...)

Easy like Sunday morning

The sun is shinning brightly on this morning of November and I'm in the office. Working.

Fine weather we're having in the Czech Republic these days. I remember that last year in November I went on a road trip that basically changed the course of my life. I visited for the first time the Czech Republic, Vienna and Slovakia and then got back to tiny Cluny, in France, without knowing that one year from then I would be living in one of these countries. And the weather was not as good, if you're wondering. In fact it was shitty, raining all the time we were in Vienna and then we did Bratislava-by-rain-in-2-hours.

But today is a wonderful day for this time of the year. And I'm at my desk, having profound thoughts. I'll give you guys an update on my life because it's been a while since I wrote here.

Rewind to the last days of September '09. Awful days were those, as I had to take a life changing decision that would effect not only my life. I'll spare you the details but after those awful days I went back home for a couple of weeks and then to Clun's to see my friends and make the expose that earned me a Master's degree.

Fast forward to the last (sunny)days of November. I'm leaving in Plzen and have started a new job. As you guessed it, that is what my decision was all about: moving or not, changing my job or not. It wasn't always easy and I think I made it harder than it should have been.

I will again spare you the details, the pros and cons, what was hanging in the balance, my suppositions, my predictions and so on. What is important is that I made the step and here I am. And I'm not getting bored, that's for sure. :-)

I like this place, driving to work, the scenery is like in this picture. I cannot stop to take photos on the highway so there you have one from Flickr. It really is this pretty. And I feel like in the photo :-)

21st Century Gal

I promised I'd tell you about my new life but I'm so tired that this is going to be very breef because you see, I've been working in the factory today. Yes sir, not only did I visit the plant but I helped with the work on the shop floor. I was no Charlie in Modern Times, no, I was a real Rosie the Riveter of my times.

And I am a modern girl, even if I've kind of settled down: I'm going to work by car, stoping for some shopping on the way home, chatting with my girls about shoes and dresses, kicking ass at work and so on.

Don't worry, I'm still a wanderer. Last weekend we went to Romania and then to Bratislava on the way back (and beat the curse on this ocassion because we had a great weekend). The weekend before that we were in France. I am alive and well, my fans, only tired and so don't expect many pics from my own collection, ok? Ok.

Samaritaine*

It wasn't the first time she saw him. But this was the first time she really noticed him and his spaniel.

She glanced back. Yes, he was there, still smiling, a tall, brown haired man, wearing sunglasses in this weather. She could see his green turtle neck from under his beige Mac. The dog looked wet and a bit sad, maybe he wanted home already. She felt her own dog jerking the leash to turn around. The guy's dog must be male.

How bizarre, she thought, there, on the bank of the Seine, under the pouring rain, these two strangers decided to walk their dogs. There was no one else around, no passerbys. Was he following her? She knew she'd seen him somewhere else but where? Maybe in the park,but now she really saw him : tall, taller thant her but just the perfect size. Where did that thought come from? He was quite good looking, square chin, brown hair, but she chouldn't see his eyes.

He was comming towards her, she could hear his footspteps on the wet pavement. And there was no one else under the rain. She was intrigued. Strangely enough it didn't even cross her mind to be afraid, she was actually fascinated by this guy and his dog.

The man's smile didn't falter as she half turned towards him. She started walking towards him then. He stopped. He was now looking at her with his brown, soft eyes, still that smile on his lips as if he knew her. She wanted to ask "Where? Who? Why?" but she found herself smiling as well.

She was now looking straight at him. She did know him, she'd known him for a while now. He also lived on the Rive Gauche, perhaps somewhere on the other side of the square from where her flat was(why it was called a square when it was round, she didn't know).

She'd seen him in the street, probably going to work, always fashionable, sometimes in a hurry. She knew he was French, but she never knew his name. How many times did they cross eachother in bakeries and tailor shops? How many times did they walk the dogs in the same park, sat on the same bench, at different hours, different days. How many times did they almost meet?

"Bonjour"

"Bonjour, vous"

"On se connait?"

"Maintenant, si"

*Samaritaine is the name of a famous Parisian Department store, bigger than La Fayette and Le Printemps, it was the place for fashionable and expensive shopping before it was closed for "rebuilding" in 2005. Actually it was a move to restructure the personnel and transform it into office and apartment building so this fashionistas' paradise never reopened. These pictures were in the window of the shop in summer of 2006.

Oraseanca din mine

Stau la tara acum. Ati cam vazut si din poze, am lanuri de grau si de porumb pe drum si din cand in cand ma opresc sa mananc corcoduse la marginea soselei. Dimineata e un cocos care canta, la 5.23 fix, parca e setat (cam tembel, uneori canta pe la miezul noptii). Cainii ma latra din curti cand trec, pe jos sau mai grav cu bicicleta. E liniste in rest, se mai aude uneori un tren, destul de multe masini dar nu deranjant, in nici un caz ca la oras.

Din cand in cand ma duc la oras. Ca azi de pilda, voi lua autobuzul de la marginea soselei, RATA daca preferati. Intr-o ora sunt in centrul Pragai. Mi se face dor de oras, de agitatie, tramvaie, metrou. Dar nu imi dau seama de asta decat cand ajung si intru direct in pielea orasencei care se descurca perfect sa navigheze printre turisti, cu mijloace de transport diferite si stie exact unde vrea sa ajunga.

Imi place Praga, mereu descopar ceva nou, desi m-am obisnuit cu locurile si ma simt chiar ca acasa. Ultima oara, eram pe podul Carol mergand spre castel, cand m-am intors, deasupra orasului vechi aparuse curcubeul iar in fata mea, era iubirea mea. V-am zis, ceva nou apare tot timpul, dar uneori redescopar ceva vechi. Asta e imaginea mea preferata cu podul, si jur ca exact asa arata uneori, spre asfintit. Poza e luata de pe un site cu carti postale, pragueartshop.com.

Revenind la povestea despre oras, se pare ca niste cercetatori care nu prea au ce face cu timpul lor au facut un studiu cam ciudat si cica unii oraseni sunt mai deranjati de zgomotul facut de pasari decat de zgomotul masinilor intr-o intersectie aglomerata.

Aseara stateam in gradina mea, era racoare, se auzeau greierii, cateva pasari de noapte, era perfect. Pe mine nu ma deranjeaza zgomotul naturii sau al pasarilor dar sunt atat de obisnuita cu intersectia aglomerata, cu tramvaiele in miez de noapte, cu agitatia orasului, incat uneori imi lipseste.

Mereu cand ma intorc acasa, redescopar mirosurile, caldura, zgomotele si mi se par unice pentru acel moment, de revenire acasa. Parca si vantul bate altfel, totul spune bine ai venit. Poza este de pe foroblog.ro dar lumina si toata atmosfera imi amintesc de ce simt cand vin acasa.

Sunt curioasa daca in august imi va fi greu acasa, in vacarmul Bucurestilor, fie si pentru 4 zile. M-am cam dezobisnuit de lumina care intra in camera din strada si de zgomotul perpetuu. Dar cu siguranta o sa-mi revin repede, once a city dweller, always a city dweller. Si in plus o sa fiu acasa.

Abia astept sa ma plimb prin oras, sa descoperim orasul impreuna, sa revad locurile mele preferate, prietenii, atmosfera. Ok si poluarea. Aici vad pasari si fluturi peste tot, intr-o zi am vazut iepurasi in camp, nu vezi asa ceva acasa. Dar nu conteaza, e orasul meu si are sarmul sau, diferit de linistea naturii de la tara sau de opulenta Pragai.

Si postul este in romana. Pentru ca mi-e dor.

Meet Josephine

Everyone, say: Ahoj, Josephino! I've had her for about a month; she's my 2-months-in-advance-don't-break-your-neck-on-it birthday present and I've been riding her to work almost ever since.

Once I got past the initial fear of going downhill, this is quite neat, going to work every day on my little bike. You can say I've got wheels.

She's girlie, but not too girlie, she's second hand, but a good brand and very well kept. And I'm in love with it. So her name is Josephine (my boyfriend's off road is called Francoise, we've decided on really outdated French names). She wasn't named after the Empress but after this song:



I follow the same old route pass the trucks on my way to work, but when I get back, I go through town and do a bit of exploring, so actually it takes me longer to get back home. At least I exercise.

I've got wheels, all I need now are wings and I'll fly...

Update: Plutot une precission: Nomee aussi apres la Josephine de Penelope.

Nympheas

Look at what I have in my garden. The weekend was warm, so I was able to stay by the pond, listening to the ducks, reading a book. Unfortunately the weather is back to being gloomy and rainy so I don't know how many pretty pictures I'll be able to take while sitting in my garden, so enjoy.

I haven't felt as happy as while I was lounging next to this pond, on the grass, soft wind and a warm light. Time stood still.

This reminded me of another special moment. I have admired Monet's paintings at The Orangerie, the purpose built museum in Paris. I spent hours just admiring the colors of the huge canvases exhibited there. He painted some of these wonders while practically blind. I feel a bit like a painter when I was taking the picture below. I'm really sorry I don't have any bit of talent at painting. Suddenly Monet seems so realistic, though.

The pond in front of my house reminded me of Monet having focused his last 30 years on paintings of water lilies in his garden. He was almost blind towards the end, and I think that it must be soothing for a painter to have not darkness in front, but wonderful images of the sky reflected on a pond of water lilies.

On a culinary trip

So my hoards of fans have been complaining that I didn't write one word about my last trip to France. That is mainly because I didn't take pictures so I don't have anything to brag about. But I'll improvise.(No, my love life will not make it as a post, it's going very well, thank you for asking)

When I said trip in the title, I might as well have meant the kind of trip a high junkie goes into, because my taste buds where really spoiled last weekend.

It all started Thursday night when I got on the bus for Prague, all dressed up in my best black skirt with a nice halter top and fancy shoes. All ready for a dinner party in a very elegant restaurant in Prague. I'm really sorry I didn't take any pictures, but I promise to get back there some day, because it was worth it. The view from Letna hill is just about one of the most beautiful views in the world. Now, they say Prague is the most romantic city and all, meeting your beloved on St Charles bridge, but I think eating a romantic dinner on top of Letna, by night, is by far better.

So I got there, it's a beautiful pavilion in the middle of a park, with a terrace overlooking the whole city. I sat at a table outside, drank a good Moravian white wine and had a nice conversation with a stranger I'd met at the train stop, who was going to the same place. I felt like in one of the old commercials for Kent cigarettes. Very class.

When the others came, we joined them inside in the nice, Art Nouveau inspired, Bistro. The atmosphere was merry, I had my darling one next to my heart, good company, and we got some beers, some more wine, eventually we ordered. And this is where the gastronomical feast of the weekend begins. I had filet mignon in cognac sauce and for desert, a delicious chocolate mousse with strawberries. I'm very picky when it comes to desert. But this was heaven, an orgasm in every spoonful of chocolate. And the evening ended a little later with an orgasm of a different nature.

I like this picture because of the Laguiole knife on the table, I would have taken the same one.

The next day we left for France, where once again the menu was fabulous: a recipe from Normandy: Coquilles St Jacques with pasta and sauce.

And magnum ice cream for a perfect desert. I'm not going into the details of the weekend: just teasing you with some pictures of food. I don't have pictures of my own, but I searched for some resembling what we had, just to tickle your senses.

Saturday, we had faux filet with endive salad and for desert, a specialty from The Czech republic, after a traditional Armenian family recipe, a honey caked called Marlenka. Delicious, I can't get enough of it. (actually thinking of exporting this to the world, too good to be kept a secret).

To keep in line with the international cuisine theme, the evening was spent in an Alsatian traditional restaurant where we had, what I can only describe as the local pizza, only much better than any pizza. I could live only with this and Marlenka and H&M.

The wine we accompanied our meal with, was of course a local Pinot Gris. And for desert, another of my favorites: pistachio ice cream with real, grilled pistachios.

Ok, by this time, I was quite full; we had tarte flambé with cheese and lard and with Munster cheese and lard, and not just one serving each. So I had only one scoop of pistachio. But it was really divine.

And for the end, Sunday, just before coming back home: Barbecue. This really was a meat eater's feast. chicken, duck, sausages, skewers with meat. Lots of grilled meat.

So now you also know why I've been eating salads and light dishes all week. I have to make up for a weekend where my liver must have suffered (though I made no excesses) but my taste buds had multiple orgasms. And oh Doamne! It was sooo good.

Down the rabbit hole, to Bratislava

This weekend, it was time to go to Bratislava. Two of our colleagues from the Master’s are there for their internships and because we are trying to visit as many of our mates as possible, we decided to head east.

Our original plan was to take the train or the bus from Prague, about 4hrs trip to Bratislava so it’s quite manageable. The good thing about living in the Czech Republic is that you truly are in the heart of Europe and can easily access several countries from here. And Prague is the hub of transportation in the country; you have frequent busses and trains to all destinations. The down side to Czech transportation is that trains are more often than not late…

This time though it was us who were late (for reasons independent of our will) so we had to change to plan B, taking the car. The high way from Prague to Bratislava is quite bumpy (nothing compared to the so called Romanian highways, but still a bumpy ride). In fact the highway is “affectionately” called the Tankodrom. For one thing, because the Russians could easily use it to bring their tanks here, in case the Czechs decided to rebel again like in '68. The main reason for this nickname is that the road is, bumpy, quite bad pavement, not really a pleasure to drive. To je skoda! It's a pitty. The scenery is really nice. (Didn't take any pictures, to busy driving or doing something else, besides, it's bumpy, doesn't make for clear photos, but take my word on it: Prague-Bratislava is a pretty nice trip. Scenery-wise. And you can visit Austerlitz.)

Once in Bratislava, at about 10 o'clock in the evening, we started looking for our friend's street. And although we had both visited the city before, it wasn't easy. Poor indication and maze-like streets behind the communist buildings in the neighborhood.

We went out that night and I can tell you that there is night life in Bratislava, people going out to clubs and bars, having a drink, dancing. Quite fun. Our friends were telling us that people usually go out of town during the weekends so it may seem deserted. Nevertheless there were things to do. I had a Bloody Mary in a lounge bar near Michalska Brana, the famous rendez-vous place in Bratislava (Picture form last November).

The next day we went to see some Siberian tigers in a reserve about 30 km into the Slovakian countryside. It was in a part of the country with a strong Hungarian minority. The countryside resembled a bit what I already knew from Romanian and Hungarian countrysides so nothing special here, plains, lots of grass, some trees, crops, the works. This is one of the tigers, and us...

In the afternoon, we visited Bratislava. It really is a little city, as it's logo goes: Little big City. When I was here last time, in November, I basically went on foot from the main railway station to the main bus station and I practically saw all there was to see. I did profit from a local guide this time so it was a nice experience.

There were certain places on my list of things to see. I always make up such a list in my head when I go somewhere and I always document myself in advance as to what is interesting to see.

So my list included the Radio building, an upside down pyramid; the big square with Napoleon's statue on a bench. Here you have the pictures to prove that we were there. Les lapins cretins a Bratislava.

Bratislava's old town has been restored and is really a pleasure to visit it. Beautiful houses, restaurants, bars. It's a bit like I'd like Bucharest to be. Maybe in a few years... It has nothing of Prague's grandeur, but you can see an effort in attracting tourists and in keeping them satisfied that the got what they came there for.

There are things to do and see, such as a very interesting exposition on India, Nepal, Tibet and the Himalayas at the National Museum, really well taken care for and interesting.

The city's arhitecture and the some times a bit strange statues that you find in the streets are another attraction point. A good excercise of marketing for municipalities (Bucharest should take notes). I don't think Slovaks particularly like their capital, it does have a small town feel and look, but they have managed to attract tourists here (Twin Cities campaign with Vienna is a good exemple of marketing).

The only thing that could spoil a tourists trip, in a really, really bad way, is the lack of service. Going into pizza places, book stores, at the museum, the staff will not always be very friendly. Even the police are not nice (gave as a ticket for parking in the wrong place, but there aren't many parking places either). The Czechs are know for lousy service, but the Slovaks could posibly be worse.

All in all, Bratislava was a nice gettaway for the weekend and it was a pleasure to see our friends again. Felt a bit like back in Cluny. Looking forward to our next get toghether.

And a last picture in the series: The Silly Rabbits do Bratislava.

At the crossroad: Strasbourg

Like every weekend, I took a trip (I know I don't write about each and one of them, but trust me, I don't sit around, I'm just a procrastinator so I never get to write about all I want do). The last trip was to Strasbourg to meet up with friends: Russians Ukrainian, Uzbek, a Romanian and our gracious French hosts. A tour of Babel with one common language: French (changes a bit from English being the mother of all tongues). Much fun was had, good food, good wine (Alsatian wines are now my favorites) all in all, good times.


It wasn't suny, still we went out for a visit of the city. There are quite a few things to see and even thought I have visited on different occasions, Strasbourg still manages to surprise me. You can instantly see that it has always been quite a rich part of the world: park, beautiful houses, monuments, a Cathedral that once stood as the highest building in the world.

Strasbourg is a unique place also because of it's history, that of a piece of land that two nations fought over for centuries. An expert eye can tell you only by the architecture that you're not in France, but not in Germany either: Strasbourg has it's own style. And it suits it just fine.

You have the large, central, German-style square and the large, long, almost Haussmann like avenues. And than you see buildings that you won't find in either of these styles.

The young lady climbing a pole will meet a guy right over the boarder between France and Germany.

The Little France reminded me a bit of Amsterdam's canals and riverside cafes, a nice place to stroll around or take a tour in a bateau mouche.

The name of the neighbourhood, one of the oldest and best preserved (a UNESCO Heritage site), is quite a funny story. No, they didn't bring all the French toghether in this strip of land surrounded by water. In fact this was the poor neighbourhood, a sort of Red Quarter with pimps and prostitutes. Of course there were frequent outbreaks of all sort of STD's and because back in the day a sexually transmitted desease was also known as a French desease, the neighbourhood got the name of little France.

Of course, now it's quite expensive and full of tourists, restaurants, cafes, nothing like what it used to be. I think the houses look like ginger bread houses (btw, ginger bread is one of the local specialties, they love it here and it's quite good).

And the Cathedral, Notre Dame de Strasbourg, just one picture of it, but I'll put up more in another post.

There are many strories and legends surrounding this Cathedral. One of them says that the Devil is caught inside and all tourists try to look for it's statue, somewhere on the facade. I dare you to go there and recognize him. The wind is hauling outside the Cathedral, waiting for it's trapped master. The stained glass rosary is also very beautiful and unlike others it doesn't have religious motives but it has to do with the town's wealth and prestige.

And I would have endded this post here, but I have to say a word about the European Union and the buildings related to it. I tried to vote this Sunday, as you know it was election day for the European Parliament (the building is pictured below, see how tiny we are in comparison?).

I didn't manage to vote but I strolled around the neighbourhood where the European buildings are: some old and a bit communist like in style, some new and shinny.

In the posh neighbourhood where all the Consulates are I saw this Art-Nouveau house that reminded me of Barcelona and how much I want to go there and see Gaudi's buildings(apparently the architect on this one also worked with Gaudi).

I really felt like I was in the heart of Europe with all this places and buildings reminding me of placed I visited or want to visit on the old continent. It's a great city, always something to discover. In fact I have more to say on the subject...

Wanderlust

I've become a wanderer, a gypsy. Europe is my Avenue. My life, exotic. If I tell you my story, you won't believe it. I carry my house with me, everything I treasure is hidden in my heart, and everything else is in a luggage. And I travel light. I'm going far.

My life has become a travel novel. I am the embodiment of globalization and everything that is good about it. Until a few months ago I lived in a water mill. In France. Owned by a Swiss painter of Polish origin, married to an Austrian. And we were 5 to live there: 2 Russians, an Uzbek married to a French woman (she was living in Uzbekistan at the time) and French with his Romanian girlfriend. And it was a pretty good arrangement. Every day we'd go to school in a Harry Potter like environment, in an Abbey where we met at least 5 other nationalities.

And now, I'm in the Czech Republic, I still have the same French boyfriend . I live in another watermill with Czechs and Bulgarians. And I work in a French company; I speak English every day and talk to people from all over Europe, regularly. For me, globalization is just a watermill.

On top of that I'm in a different place every weekend, in France, the Czech Republic, now I'm going to Bratislava. Next? Who knows?

It's what I've always wanted, a life full of excitement, travel, interesting people, good food. And I have it now but all I'm thinking about at this moment is to go home for a few days in August. And make my life simpler. Why can't we be completely satisfied?

On top of all my dreams of going away, I'm homesick. I guess this is a sort of wanderlust as well. And I’m happy with this and grateful for all the things in my life.

Venting

I have so many projects and plans, I'm almost scared to do anything. And all I do is enter this procrastination loop and seem to never be able to go out. Like now. Writing here instead of doing something else.

The worst thing is that I feel like nothing will happen to make me change. As if no punishment, divine or human will come for this state of mind.

And I should really be more motivated than that, because I have the best motivation in the world to go on. But I just freeze and don't want to do anything. Just stay in blissful happiness. And make everyday a weekend.

Don't worry, I'm not depressed, just lazy. Et de malhumeur. And a bit tired. I just need to snap out of it. Oh and also, I don't seem to find my words today, I have a bit of a hard time expressing myself, and lot of work to do.

Ok, now that I've finished complaining, back to our regularly scheduled program.

Making plans

These days all my plans have been useless, whatever I do, the plan changes all the time. So I start to think: do we really need plans to get ahead? Don't get me wrong, I love making plans, I am right now making a shopping list (nothing glamourous, tomorrow's dinner and that summer skirt I want, maybe a dress too).

My latest plan was to go to Liberec this weekend, but the plan was abruptly changed and instead I spent a wonderful weekend in Prague and Plzen. I'm not sorry for it, in fact, I'm quite happy it all turned out like this, I went barhopping in Plzen, showed Prague to a friend, which is always one of my favourite activities, watched a movie, had interesting discussions, ate good food and drank enough to make me cheery. But what I ask myself now is whether it makes any sense to make plans if you don't stick to them?

We get all excited about a plan, or at least I know I do. We make our life around it sometimes, make plans on top of plans, link them to other things in our lives. We spawn a web of plans, all in a desperate effort to give ourselves the illusion we are in control.

And then we get disappointed because we didn't see our plan come true. Our world seems a tiny bit destabilized, abnormal, spinning out of (our) control even. The plan made it look all that better, made us feel in control, masters of our destinies. And the bubble bursts and we are not gods anymore, we don't know exactly were the road takes us.

In some rare cases - like mine, this time - when the changed plan goes better than the original would, we forget things didn't go as we wanted and can end up saying this was what we always really wanted. Anything to keep the appearence of control.

But does it really help us, to have all this control? Life is so full of surprises and twists out of our reach that no matter how well we prepare everything, it will never be 100% sure. I didn't go to Liberec because of events that were independent to my will or power and that I could not have predicted no matter my preparation (maybe a very very wild dream would have imagined that knock on my door close to midnight, that made me go to Plzen in the morning, but I was completely taken by surprise, and it was a nice one).

Isn't it better sometimes to go with the flow? See what happens next and improvise? Sometimes life can be fun like that too, scary, but fun. So Liberec is for another time, I'll make plans for it when the time comes, but I won't be dissapointed if I get another offer.

Control is just an illusion, all we can do is make a plan, don't get to attached to it and hope for the better. And be open to all possibilities.

My destinations

I am a bit of a day dreamer so as I stay at my office, from time to time my eyes turn towards the window and as I gaze at the distant, almost shadowy mountains, I think of destinations, old and new, nearby or quite far. Almost all the time I'm planning a trip. Right now I have plans for Jablonec, in a few weeks and Bratislava and Hanover when time will permit it. And then I have trips in between, unplanned,but a good surprise, like the one to Strasbourg a few weeks ago.

So where have my day dreams taken me, so far? This is just a list, by no means an exhaustive one, of places I've visited or I'd like to visit.

Countries I've visited: France, United Kingdom, Belgium, The Netherlands, The Czech Republic, Slovakia, Austria, Switzerland.

Countries I'd like to visit: Spain, Portugal, Marocco, Egypt, Turkey, Japan, Iceland, Sweeden, New Zeeland, Russia, Seychelles, United Arab Emirates, Jordan, Cuba, Canada. (basically the rest of the known world, but these are just the ones that made the short list).

My philosophy on travel is not to make just a collection of places seen, make a scratch on a wall with my name, I want to get the feeling of the place, get to know the people, feel like more than a tourist. That's why I don't like guided tours, they just take you around, the time to take a picture, tell you an anecdote, but never let you actually breathe in the perfume of the place at your own pace. Which is was I need the most.

And so, I am going to take my own personal tour guide, which is a guide book and my intuition for discovering interesting things and I'll be on my way, towards new adventures.

Stay tunned, pictures to follow to this post.

Wherever the road may lead you

I've been working for two weeks now, I'm already starting to feel tired. It's not yet very challenging but we're getting there.

I thought I should show you my road to work. Every morning I walk about 20 minutes to work and another 20 from there to my house, unless I make a detour in the town for some groceries.

This is where I start my journey. I open this door and I face the outside world.


I had to cross a dangerous street every day but I discovered a shortcut behind the house. This creek passes nearby.

The town is quite well kept, with beautiful houses and gardens, people here seem to have a passion for gardening. I'll try to take pictured of the houses I like best, like this one.

A big part of my walk takes me along a road outside of the town.

And the road goes on... It's usually quite busy, bikers, trucks, cars and me, walking along.

And here we are, our stop for the next 9 hours or so:

At the end of the day, I can go home, or take another road, into town. This is the road I took to get from the train station to the plant, on my very first day. I don't really need to go into town anymore, I discovered that there is a bus stop and a grocery store behind my house, so I don't even need to move that much.

And finally, home. Or at least, my home away from home. A nice place to rest after a hard day's work.