LONDON AT FIRST SIGHT

London is...Peter Pan, Mary Poppins, the Beatles, Shakespeare, the Thames, London Bridge, the Queen, the neo-Gothic Parliament, the Tube, Petula Clark singing "London is London". At least it was all this and much more in my mind before I got there. And obviously one week only allowed me to scratch the surface of this multi-layered metropole. Although in the end all big cities are somehow the same: multicultural financial, commercial and artistic hubs, filled with tourist traps and charming corners, packed with museums, immigrants, designer and souvenir shops...and amazing food from all over the world. I had a very weird feeling as many sights reminded me of North America, obviously it's Canada and the US that took after Britain, but it depends what you get to see first.

I could list a whole amount of things I wish I did when in London, like go out more at night, explore the immigrant neighbourhoods and the greener surroundings. On the other hand I did many other things that filled my heart with joy, especially that my partner in crime was my mom, to whom I promised this trip a long time ago.

Trafalgar Square

She studied English at the university, the Beatles are her favourite band, Shakespeare her favourite writer and her thesis dealt with science and pseudo-science in Chaucer's work. It was my dream to fulfill her dream and take this trip together. Turning 40 there felt like it was just the right time, 40 years also after she finished university. Not that she's satisfied now, I found out that Russia and the Red Sea corals and fish are still next on the list.


University mates, friends from Canada, Barcelona, a British ex-employer and a doctor friend from the cruiseships all live in this Babel Mecca now. Two of my Romanian friends there met me in Lisboa while travelling. So it was a great opportunity to see them all, catch up and eventually introducing them to each other, as three are Romanian single moms. Helping people becoming friends is one of my greatest joys. It all started with a college friend offering me accommodation responding to a Facebook announcement; last time we met at night on the street in Padova back in '99.

Saint James Park

Of course museums and luxurious beautiful shops like Fortnum&Mason are great sights, but somehow you can find similar ones in every other historical big city. If I was to make a top of the things I enjoyed most I would say theatre, the parks, the markets.






To me there's no theatre like the English theatre; lately I tend to favour more and more nature over buildings and I found the local markets to be lively and different, especially Camden Lock and Borough Market. I'm pretty sure I would have enjoyed the immigrant East and South areas but time was short and temptations plenty.

Borough Market

Camden Market

Plus, one of our best decisions was to visit Canterbury, host to the most important Anglican cathedral nd to Chaucer's colourful tales.

Whitstable

Whistable is a charming seaside town just half an hour away that was totally worth the detour even considering the sudden rain, that threw an amazing light over the sea. With all those North American reminiscences hitting every now and then, the lobster shack and the beach huts made me think of Cape Cod.

The green landscapes of Kent looked picture perfect, just like the charming XIX-early XX century looking shops, coffee shops and pubs. I felt respect for tradition and a certain way of doing things. People were mostly polite and cheerful, quite accommodating I would say.

English gastronomy may not be famous but I've discovered a whole variety of beers, great dairy products, cheeses like Stilton and Red Leicester and of course amazing oysters and real salmon, that I miss so much in Portugal where we only get some fake farm-raised Norwegian variety.

All together it was oh, so charming indeed! I'd definitely go back there for another round.

DON'T LEAVE IT TO MY IMAGINATION

    Praia da Amoreira sunset

I find very hard to order my mind what to think about and in what terms, but at least I started fighting my tendency to panic. It's hard to accept that I cannot control circumstances,  what tomorrow may bring, for better or worse, hard to avoid feelings of rage, self-pity, fear. Nowadays my mind is playing with me yo-yo style, getting on my nerves on every possible occasion. My imagination runs crazy, like enraged wild wild horses. So many ups and downs, fear, plenty of worst case scenarios, based on the alarming news I am getting from Romania.  Not that culture would do much better in Spain or Portugal. It's hard not to feel humiliated when you see that you've been left aside when it comes to matters regarding your life. 

So what if I lose my job? This job that I wanted so much, that I longed for since 2009, or maybe before that, that I feel it's so right for me, and I'm so right for it. My dream job, that made me leave the beautiful and beloved city of Barcelona, another good working place, and a life that just settled, with great friends, an interesting performing poetry group, nice trips and experiences, enjoying the beauty of Catalunya, this blessed land hanging between the mountains and the Mediterranean, offering so much to the eyes and the soul. Not that I don't love Lisbon, especially it's warm amazing golden glow that precedes and accompanies sunset. It just makes me feel welcome and sheltered here. 

My mother and my friends tell me to keep calm, that something good should come out of it anyway, that we don't know what the outcome of a seemingly negative event might be. So I'm trying to practice calm, but it's hard when you're alone in a foreign country on the other side of Europe, where you hardly landed six months ago. The other strategy would be to keep enjoying the present moment, living it deeply, disconsidering the past or the future. I remember that my ex used to tell me that I hardly start doing something that I am already thinking about the next thing to do. He might be right actually.

I understand that I should let the positive vibes rule my soul and soothe my mind. Enjoy the simple things as the great Lisbon weather, the sun, the breeze, tasty food and the act of preparing it, my friends, things I enjoy at work. And stop my catastrophic imagination from working. Accept the unexpected, the mistery of existence, let it enter my soul and surrender to it. Understand that this is beyond understanding, beyond my intelligence that I am so proud of. 

There are signs around me, lights in the dark, that I forget about most of the time. Last Friday evening I was in the beach town Cascais where I sometimes go for a quick swim. I had a candle in my bag, the purpose was to get inside some church and light it, but I forgot to do it before leaving Lisbon. So I entered a small chapel that was on my way. To my great surprise and disbelief the mass was in Romanian (by the accent I understood the father was from our sister country, Moldova). All of a sudden I understood that my steps were guided there and from my eyes started pouring tears of joy and relief. I knew I was not alone and that church was precisely the one I had to enter that day. 

The following Wednesday there were seven years since my father left this mortal ever changing world, and I felt very sorry that I could not be in Romania celebrating his memory with family and friends. I went to see the priest the day before and I made "colivă", an Orthodox ritual sweet that we only prepare in order to honour the memory of our dear departed, It is meant to be shared at the church, the cemetery, and between neighbours and friends *. It was the first time for me, and I felt very emotional about it, as I was thinking about how I was reproducing the gestures of my grand-grand mother, Maca, my grand-mother, Florica and my mother. They were with me in a very special way. Wednesday morning I went to the church with two heavy bags, with bread, red wine and two small colivas. I wept abundantly thinking of my father, but at the same time I was happy that I was granted the opportunity to honour his memory the traditional way myself, all alone on this side of the world. I shared one coliva at the church and one at work, where we happened to have a good-bye party. So some Portuguese, a Chilean and a French-Japanese appreciated it too.

Today I went to the beach in the afternoon with two Portuguese I met recently, two lovely ladies of my age, a journalist and a event organizer. New friends I hope. On the way back there was this Chinese man on the train, sitting in front of us with his wife. He stroke a conversation, although his Portuguese was very basic, and succeeded involving also the Afro-Portuguese that were standing next to us. He was so cheerful, funny and sweet that brought broad smiles on everyone's face, creating a wonderful energy around him. I think he would make a great actor or guru, he seemed to be the type of person you want to have around as much as possible. And back home I found this message my mother forwarded me about good and bad energy. I understood then that this man was carrying a great amount of positive energy and was able to share it with us. I also understood why I instinctively avoid some people. On the other hand I realised that if I complain, moan and am miserable, I also transmit my bad energy to others. I am tired of being a fighter, but it looks that I have no other options. I do have the option though to fight adversive circumstances in good spirits. 

*In terms of the Greek Pantheon, the wheat symbolized the earth goddess Demeter, while pomegranates stood for her daughter, Persephone, queen of the underworld. Almonds were sacred to Aphrodite and raisins to Dionysis. Sesame seeds were considered to open the doors of consciousness. (Wikipedia)

Seacily - Into the blue

Pretty Cefalù, dominated by the Norman Duomo

Even if I had any expectations, I have to admit Sicily went far beyond them, like in any other country that sits below a scorching sun, everything there borders the superlative. On the positive and the negative side, true, but exercising an irresistible attraction, maybe also because I have a weakness for ports and islands. We spent nine full days there without seeing a cloud. The sun makes things look brighter, but also blurred, their contours fading in the hot trembling air. A feast of colours and hard to bear heat.

Beautiful sea, deep blue skies, the silhouette of Etna with its 3350m dominating it surroundings, delicious food - arguably the best ice cream on the planet, history, art and creativity beyond the wildest imagination. Who would believe there is such a thing as Arabian - Norman architecture? Or that the poets at Norman kings court in the XII century were Arabs, while the administrative language was still Greek, until the immigrants from the continent finally latinized the island? Sicily is more than a border between continents, it is a gate, an interstitial space where the richness of exchanges crosses over centuries reaching our time.

Its history is as intricate as the Arab and Byzantine mosaics adorning its churches and cathedrals, as inexplicable as the amazing combination of architectural elements coming from all ages of art. An emirate, then a kingdom, or sitting under imperial powers, a pure mixture claiming its own identity of many cultures. Once part of Magna Graecia, now part of the Republic of Italy, still holding some autonomy, having its own legislative assembly. Sicani and Siculi to start with, then Phoenicians, Puns, Greeks, Romans (Archimedes got killed during the siege of Siracusa), Byzantines, Arabs, Normans (Hauteville/Altavilla) dynasty, even Swabians (Hohenstaufen), the French (Anjou/Angiò), the Aragonese, who brought Catalan as the court language, all ruling for not more than two centuries, fighting continuously for the power. When Aragon and Castilla were joined through marriage, Sicily became a feud of the Spanish Crown, for about three centuries and its sumptuous barocco art easily rivals the one of Spain and its other colonies. Even the Savoia and the Habsburg families took hold of this golden island, so Sicily finally chose to unify with the Kingdom of Naples under los Borbones, a family of French descent that got to rule half of Europe.


Detail from La Martorana church

All these different nations left their mark on the food, the architecture, the arts, the lifestyle. So traveling there is like taking a trip with a time machine that's also able to overcome space constrictions. Churches and palaces mixing Arab and Byzantine mosaics and cupulas, Romanesque structure and Baroque paintings and marble intarsia.

For gourmets without prejudices - calf spleen sandwiches - pani ca meusa or roast intestines of sheep or goat - stigghiola. For seafood amateurs like me - all kinds of fish and shrimps, plus sea urchins, oysters, small conchs and a variety of seashells, ranging from well known mussels to razor clams - cannolichi and big clams - fasolari, culminating with the calamari ink pasta, as delicious as unattractive. A lot of almond paste sweets, including marzipan fruits (frutta di Martorana) and the famous cassata, or pastries filled with fig and citrus jams. I had a delicious watermelon thick jelly flavoured with jasmine and sprinkled with pistachio bits.

Pasticceria Scimone in Palermo

The first two evenings we went to a symphonic concert at Palazzo Chiaromonte or Steri, then a jazz concert in the garden of the ruined Santa Maria dello Spasimo in the Kalsa district. We were lucky enough to be there in time Wednesday for the Santa Rosalia day, the patron saint of Palermo, extended sometimes to the whole of the island. Beside a popular music and theatre show in the courtyard of Theatre Ditirammu we admired the whole procession through Via Vittorio Emmanuele, made of about 40 colourful caretti siciliani carried by heavily adorned horses and exposing a beautiful girl dressed in white decorated with red roses, the symbol of the saint. To my great pleasure, with the contribution of the Santuzza, I met twice a young Sicilian actor whom I happened to see just a few weeks before acting in Bucharest: Alessandro Romano,

Around Palermo we have been to Monreale, worth a visit for its panorama of the Conca d'Oro region and the most amazing Cathedral, from 1174. Then Cefalù, a charming medieval town on the shore, with a swarming beach and enchanting atmosphere. Most of the time we swam in Mondello, with crystal clean waters and fine sand, but far too crowded. The picturesque Sferracavallo fishing village attracted us with great seafood. As I was longing for quite a few years to see Etna, a one day trip there and to the touristy Taormina accomplished my desire and confirmed my disgust for programmed group trips. Nevertheless, it is an unforgettable experience to be on top of an active volcano and see old craters, lava courses and wisps of smoke raising into the thin air.



We expected people to be noisy and drive like crazy, so there where very few downsides to the whole experience. One was the shops schedule, including supermarkets, most of them closed daily from 1 to 4pm, on Sunday and Monday mornings. plus the Santa Rosalia celebrations made them close doors for two extra days in the middle of the week. Palermo is not dirtier or noisier than a lot of other cities, including New York for instance, and our bus trips proved very successful. People were very nice, eager to help and answer questions, also curious about where we're coming from and our way of life, willing to share their experiences and knowledge, given that we know Italian.

Summing it up, I will definitely go back to Palermo, also eager to see more of Sicilia, there is plenty to learn and discover. I had the same great time with my mother, both sharing the same interest in combining sightseeing with sea swimming and food and wine tasting. I could say it was a complete vacation from all points of view, overwhelming all my senses with a profusion of smells, colours, music, landscapes and buildings all admirable in their own way. I had to admit to myself that Italy still sits comfortably on top of my preferences and makes me feel welcome and at home, offering so many things to my curiosity about the world's ways.

July 1st, Canada day - Summer, summer, mum, summer

1321 days ago

Oh, yeah, Tadoussac and Ville de Québec (or Québec City) deserve a good look. Québec is the only fortified city in North America, with lovely restaurants and cafés, reminds me so much of Europe, my beloved decadent sophisticated courtisane.

And Tadoussac, where the estuary of the St. Laurent river hosts whales and seals...joined by the Saguenay river that carved fjords on its way, what a Northern dream land there is. Saw wild purple irises (stanjenei) for the first time, went on a cruise and saw whales (mostly their backs , even the white ones: beluga. And as a reminder of past times: sea urchins (arici de mare, oursins), the fragile beautiful sea eggshells. Salty cold water, still the sea, coming deep into the land, with its wonders.

At sunset time a mist comes upon the water of Saguenay, a silver light fills up the horizon, and time doesn't exist anymore.

Most of all, loved to be with my mother and share all this with her. It's been a long time since we haven't been together just the two of us...I'm selfish, but I want her all for myself, with her tonic, cheerful, childish presence. I want to offer her the world, just like she gave me her best for so many years, for all the joy she managed to surround me with during the rough communist ruled years.

We are so much alike, more like sisters than mother and daughter, and who's who after all? We are having so much fun together. On Wednesday night I took her to a dance show: Tango Flamenco, an amazing mixture of the two, with musicians and dancers from Spain, a contemporary sensual fusion (oh, the Spanish male dancers Then to a Spanish restaurant: El Gitano, kept by a Galician, delicious paella and gazpacho, had a romantic dinner And another long walk home. And yesterday I took her to the airport

Now one more year until we meet again, my sister graduated, got her judge robe, I wasn't there, what did I do to ourselves? At the same time I was able to offer my mother a beautiful holiday. There's a price for everything.

Well, I'm going camping now, till Sunday, the Jazz Festival started, with 5 or 6 open air stages, 20 minutes walk from here. Then the African nights festival is on. My room mate will be going to Romania July 9, five weeks to live alone and learn more about myself in Montreal, Canada. The city boils in the summer, with heat and events, I'll just go with the flow.

June 20, 05 - Summer goes on...

1332 days ago

...and off. After the sticky days followed the rainy days. And now it looks like it is finally back on track. And I'm learning to enjoy Canada, I'm finding out ways to be happy without swimming and watching the fish and turtles.

Mum is happy here, we've been walking around quite a lot, up and down Montreal: wine and cheese home meeting my friends, Brasilian restaurant and live music, Old Montreal by night, and the week-end in Ottawa with her highschool friend (and my adoptive mother here .

We went to the Museum of Civilisations, learned a lot about what's really around here: the Haida, Iroquai, Mic Maq, Algonquin, Innu (Eskimo) nations, called politically correct First Nations and not Indians. It's a great place to be, they recreated the whole environment, like theatre or film scenography, and the Haida art is so impressive, similar to the New Zealand Maori one. They lived by the Pacific, in the actual province of British Columbia, and we hear more about the East Coast nations, so it was a real discovery for me. The guys who designed the museum knew their job, they created the building around the concept.

Yesterday we went to Lake Philippe in the Gatineau area, and had a barbecue with the extended family for Father's Day. I went canoeing for the first time and had my first swim here - in a mountain lake. I love water, it lifts up my spirit right away. They say you are what you eat, I should be a shell, a fish or a shrimp then

This week-end we are heading to Quebec City and Tadoussac, where the views are told to be breathtaking and you can even see whales. Before mum leaves we're going to a Tango Flamenco show, all the way from Spain, 25 dancers and musicians on stage.

And the week-end after I'm supposed to go camping and swimming by another lake, provided the weather is good enough.

I'm still not happy with my job, and with such job there's no way I could ever be.

I will have to move again in September, then look for another job, then, probably in January go back to school.

As for romance...I think I still need time by myself to see where I'm standing here. And take it easy, which is far from being in my character, but it becomes mandatory, according to my personal statistics and history. I have plenty of other things to keep me busy or entertained. And I guess from this point of view the Canadian experience might be quite a challenge.