SALAMANCA, SCHOLAR ELEGANCE AND CHURCHES AS SIGNS OF POWER

If Segovia is dominated by the cathedral and the Alcazar telling a lot about the power of the church and the nobility throughout history, Salamanca is even more religiously overwhelming. There are not one, but three great churches/convents, the cathedral counting actually for two, Romanesque and Gothic built side by side. Playing host to the third oldest university in the world (after Bologna and Oxford), it's all about schools and churches, but also a magnificent Plaza Mayor, a surprising Art Nouveau museum, nice cafés and great food.





























I've seen so many interesting, surprising and unique architectural details, tasted delicious cheap tapas, enjoyed the spring sun at a calmer pace and promised myself I will definitely be back. For this I also have to thank the Mexican friend who graciously offered me shelter and his precious time and knowledge.

Yummy tapas: stuffed eggplant; pimiento del piquillo with cod; mushroom with goat cheese and jamón; zucchini with salmon, cream cheese and dry tomato + beer = 5 Euritos

The famous judiones beans with clams

The University or the Cathedral facade are obvious impressive examples of plateresco, this Spanish style the borders between late Gothic and Renaissance, but what I found most striking were the details and corners of so many buildings: the stairs, the vaults, the cloisters, the chapels. Great XVI century architect Rodrigo Gil de Hontañon (also author of the Segovia cathedral and the University of Alcalá) left behind two palaces: Salina and Monterrey, besides the new Cathedral and the monumental church of San Estebán, also a Dominican convent, that offered shelter and help to Christopher Columbus for quite a few years.

 Calle de la Compañia - one of the most beautiful streets ever

Catedral Nueva

Catedral Vieja amazing tower, looks like a Lord of the Rings fantasy castle

Some of the most stunning stairs I've ever seen, in San Estebán, by Rodrigo Gil de Hontañón

The old walls with the student vibe make an absolutely charming combination, and then there's the river, and the gardens, some impossible to describe chemistry that makes it such a pleasant and relaxing city.

That relaxing:)














A city where I felt comfortable just hanging out and doing nothing but looking around and smiling at the world in awe and gratefulness for my wonderful life, being granted so much freedom and joy. That feeling of looking at life through this kind of windows. Of the Art Nouveau museum eventually.

 Some of those gorgeous architectural details:

 Me in awe in the San Estebán cloister:

 Capitals:

The Sky of Salamanca that decorated once the ceiling of the University library is now hidden in a cloister just across, a few steps away from the hoards of tourists, in a quiet dark room. My sign, Virgo, stands proudly right in the middle.

Plaza de la Libertad is not a tourist highlight, just a picture pretty rectangular quiet square, lined with palm trees, geometrically cut cypresses and terraces, so welcoming and cozy. This charming gentleman was having his coffee (terrible like any coffee in Spain) with a cigar and glass of brandy...classy.

A place of perfect peace: Convento de las Dueñas, there was just another couple of visitors and I felt I could stay there for hours just enjoying the silence of the garden. At the exit there's a small shop where a nun sells traditional cookies homemade in the convent.

 The last image of perfection, Palacio Salina

SEGOVIA - YELLOW STONE TOWN AND SNOW CAPPED MOUNTAINS IN SPRING GREEN

There's something similar between Segovia and Salamanca, the light of their stones in the spring sun.

Although in Segovia there's more of Piedra del Parral and Salamanca Arenisca de Villamayor, I felt a certain warmth of the stone colour in both towns. They're sandstone types and in addition in Segovia the roof of the castle, Alcazar, is made of black pizarra/slate from the same area. For the first time I paid attention to how we built cities by using the nature around.

Many times the stones would come from nearby, as it would have been too difficult to carry them long distance. In Barcelona for instance the beautiful gothic church Santa Maria del Mar was made of blocks of stone brought from the close by hill of Montjuic by the port stevedores, on their backs. These two Castilla cities instead had around the type of rocks mentioned above.


There I felt peace and quiet, taking life at a slower pace myself. After all the running around in Madrid I took my time, for one day in Segovia, two days in Salamanca, to sit down, think and contemplate more. Seeing whatever I found on my way, without putting too much pressure and ticking lists.

It was quite fascinating to find out that queen Isabel la Catolica was actually crowned in Segovia and that Cristobal Colón - known as Columbus in English - met their Catholic majesties in Salamanca. There's so much history around, I felt like stepping on their tracks.

I landed in Segovia, name being of Celto-Iberic origin, before the Roman conquest, by mid-morning, after an interesting ride crossing the scenery of the Civil War, Sierra de Guadarrama and Valle de los Caídos. The setting is amazing,  I guess even more in spring, with the city raising in its warm light surrounded by snow capped mountains and the fresh shades of green brought by the season. Apparently Celts, Romans, Arabs, Jewish and finally Spanish found it all very appealing. As Segovia is not big and built on a rock about 1000 meters high, you get lovely different views as you make your way through the narrow streets.  Romanic churches, Plaza Mayor, the Jewish Quarter, are all dominated by three great landmarks: the Roman Aqueduct, built without mortar, the blocks of stone hold by themselves; the enormous late Gothic Cathedral and the elegant and solid Alcazar, the fortified castle that looks like a fairy tale one, especially if seen from the Eresma river bank, topping the abrupt rocks. Apparently the Sleeping Beauty Disney castle was inspired by it. Too bad they probably ignore the splendid mudejár decorations. Climbing to the terrace is rewarding the curious traveler with breathtaking panoramic views.

Wandering in the streets I found the less customary Gastronomic Museum, in some old house where every room tells a story about beans, chick-peas, wine, growing sheep and pigs and the by-products. Segovia is actually quite famous for its roast suckling pig and lamb and the huge white beans called judiones, not a bad idea for a consumable souvenir. The Gastronomic Museum also offers a small tasting of bread, cheese, jamón, sausage and wine, all very good, especially the jamón that happened to be made of a hairy sheep looking pig from Hungary, called mangalica. BThis and a delicious soup and a blue fish salad tapa at the Alcazar café made for lunch. Then eventually ventured out of the city walls to check on two Romanic churches, one now a convent.

It's also worthy for the sight of the high city and above all of the castle from below, plus you can take an enchanting walk by the river and re-enter through another gate. This way I found an incredibly beautiful and rather unusual Gothic façade of a convent, Santa Cruz la Real, that's now hosting an university. The famous and sinister first general inquisitor Torquemada was once a prior here.

All in all, small as it is, I still missed a few churches I wanted to visit and the Cathedral tower, so I have a good excuse for another visit.

SPAIN AGAIN, FOR A CHANGE - MUSING ON TRAVELLING, MADRID CULTURAL MARATHON AND MORE

MOVE - It's one of my strongest peremptory needs, if I sit still for too long I get anxious, and confined spaces drive me nuts. This need became evident when I read "Anatomy of Restlessness" by Bruce Chatwin, back in 2000. I understood then that travelling is like an inner call that natural born nomads have to follow in order to keep being themselves. Johnny Walker, keep walking! Even at work I need space, big windows, light, to see the sky and when possible trees to feel comfortable. I started taking lunch walks back in 2006 in Canada, half an hour is for eating, the other half is for moving, walking dramatically improves my well being.

On the other hand I also need a change of landscape, air, language, from time to time, it's like breaking up habits keeps my brain alive, and gives me a sense of freedom. At the same time big metropolitan centers also make me feel uncomfortable, caught between stone or concrete surfaces. I am less and less attracted by the idea of travelling to a city, may that be as fascinating as Berlin or Paris. Besides, they started being so similar, packed with hordes of tourists, crossed by metro lines, filled with Irish pubs, French bakeries and Italian fake restaurants next to horrible fast food or so called gourmet coffee chains. All big cities have a cathedral, national museums and world famous landmarks. I long for wide horizons, green meadows, thick forests and majestic snow capped mountains, surrounding small historical towns or picturesque villages. All with a bit of quiet and solitude, although it's already been said you can't feel lonelier than in the middle of crowds.

So having to take a week off by the beginning of spring I left aside the hypothesis of Amsterdam, Brussels, Lyon or Florence and decided to go to the closest cheapest flight destination: Madrid. Not only it's a big city, but I'm not even fond of it like I am of New York, Paris, Rome or more recently London. I am fond of its liveliness and mix of cultures though and only during this fifth or sixth visit I started to internalize its structure and subtleties, finding my favourite corners. Some of its best features are being reasonably close to Lisboa and playing host to great temporary exhibitions plus a good cultural alternative scene. Last but not least, quite a few friends call it a home and it's nice to see them after wandering all day by myself. Although being by myself didn't mean that I didn't talk to unknown people in the hostel or on the street. It's nice to enjoy all that time and temptations without having to please anyone else and be able to talk to someone around if you feel like, madrileños are quite social and easy going.




I wonder if during any of my former trips I was ever so conscious about how madly I can run all day covering kilometers, with very few and short stops, even to eat or sit down a bit. Why on Earth do I have so much physical energy to spend? Each evening would find me exhausted with my head busting with impressions and memories of the day. I didn't even count the number of exhibitions I visited and I was even scared of my hunger to see and learn more. On every trip I keep learning also about myself and my way of being in the world. At the same time I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was also a form of escapism, of running away from my life. So putting this now on paper helps me saving something, giving it a sense.

Since the first day a friend took me to La Tabacalera former cigarette factory, now a cultural centre, and inspired me to take more abstract photos. I started looking around in a different way for the whole week. The way that objects are placed in an exhibition and how people deal with it. Putting out of the context certain parts and play with them. Then there were the social photographs at Caixa Forum, quite an amazing contemporary building . Photographs taken around the less charming nowadays Spain, portraits of guerrilleras from San Salvador or Afghan refugees in Greece next to heartbreaking images of refugees all over the world, especially from Africa and Middle East (Syria and Iraq) with their most prized possession since they left home with very little, could be a buzuk (music instrument), bracelets, a cane, a donkey, whatever gave them comfort on the way.

Later I got enchanted by the amazingly bright rainbow like paintings of Raoul Dufy who wanted to render light through colour, followed by the disquiet harmony and subtle anxiety of Paul Delvaux, both provoking the eyes and the mind in diferent ways.

In between exhibitions I managed to fall in love with the Malasaña and Lavapiés colourful and kind of irreverent neighbourhoods, with the alternative shops and eateries of the first and the multicultural flavour of the second, especially the Mercado de San Fernando and the UNED library that used to be a church.

And when my mind was really crying for some green and some peace I walked along the Manzanares river green path and went to discover also Casa de Campo and Campo del Moro parks.






I couldn't resist paying another visit to Bosch, Goya, Ribera, my Museo del Prado favourites and I also discovered the history of Madrid in the city museum, quite interesting as it explored both its architecture and the social fabric of its inhabitants, customs and habits. Walking into yet another free cultural centre: Casa Encendida, I got acquainted to Colombian Suarez Londoño and his masterful sketch books drawings.

Just before taking the plane, and while looking desperately for a mailbox for my postcards, I managed to find time for the insightful Giacometti exhibition dedicated to the look: El hombre que mira, completed by very inspiring quotes on eye perception of the human body. I was very touched by an apparently simple drawing: an eye looking at a tree, that for me became suddenly the symbol of the wonder of spring.

And to top all this, I went twice to the theatre, as I managed to get a ticket, unbelievably, for Robert Lepage's "Needles and Opium", he's one of my favourite directors hailing from my former home Québec. Then it was an alternative play loosely based on "Fuenteovejuna" by Lope de Vega, that was actually quite weak, although the actors were making quite an effort.


When did I see my friends then? Well, some for lunch and a walk, some for dinner, for a tea, night drinks or an exhibition, or even host me for a couple of nights. It felt great and refreshing to see them and I guess I'll return to Madrid sooner than two years this time.

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.

DAILY ROAD TO HAPPINESS

Some years ago I was musing here on happiness and how elusive it is. I think that for the last two years I came closer and closer to its essence, after going through more work and romance related disappointments.  Serenity/inner peace is my main goal, fulfillment rather than comfort zone.  It's not about forcing your brain to think positive no matter what, it's about not judging and labeling positive and negative, understanding that only our perception of facts makes them one or the other thing. There's no good and bad weather, only pleasant and unpleasant, which is pretty subjective, according to our comfort zone.

Tavira Island, Algarve, South of Portugal

I'm trying to take life as it comes, understanding that there's only yin and yang, principles that complete each other, perception and lessons to be learned, ignorant and frightened people that hurt others because they don't love themselves. At work, on the street, during our social interactions, they are everywhere, moved by loneliness and repressed or misinterpreted emotions.

We talk a lot about people charged with negative energy, that drain us out of our own positive charge. The other day I was thinking that there are no positive or negative energies, only flowing and blocked ones, balance and imbalance. And of course that people who don't know how to unblock theirs would run to cheerful persons awkwardly trying to recharge themselves. I also become an energy vampire when I get obsessed with my own troubles, unable to hear the others, talking and talking and talking relentlessly. Brrr, what a drag!

At least I learned that my sources of energy could also be the outdoors, things I can make and do (cooking, swimming, dancing, hiking), tasty healthy food, or simply thinking and surrendering to the moment while being outside, also known as meditation. Observing all little things around us that make life joyful, like the cheerful supermarket cashier and kind drugstore employee that I met tonight, people that we mistake for vending machines a lot of times. Other great sources of joy and inner balance are my lonely walks, my time on the beach and the embrace of the rather cool Atlantic waters; I really don't need much more. 

How good it is to realize that I do live a comfortable life in a pleasant country, with mostly nice weather, beautiful landscapes, good yummy food, kind people, where I managed to make great international friends as usual, that teach me valuable lessons and help me become a better person. Now I just have to move my sexy ass and figure out how to do something valuable for this great place called world.

OPENNESS

One year after being removed under obscure circumstances from my position with the Romanian Cultural Institute, here I am, still in Lisboa, trying to get a life, out of bits and pieces. As always I am surrounded by   multicultural friends, my international life-saving angels, and I just moved into a small flat that I can pay doing a sales admin job for a huge IT company. First time that I live alone since I came back to Europe four years ago. Entertaining the sweet illusion of a possible love story is just the fluffy cream on top, but fluffy creams get spoiled so easily, out of carelessness, lack of attention, heat or cold, so I try to take it with a grain of salt. This is the advantage of getting older and supposedly wiser. 

So now I can look back at this time in my life that was 2013. Oh, boy! What a sysyphic year 2013 was! Although I took two amazing trips, to Israel/Palestinian Territories and Peru, a country I couldn't help but fall in love with. It was doubly rewarding as I went there to attend a wedding of a dear German friend from Canada and meet our Swedish and Brazilian friends, all together for the same celebration in Lima. Only my mom fell horribly sick and got into the hospital the very same day I was hiking in Machu Picchu. The day after I went walking for 24 kilometers looking for a couple of weavers villages, just to calm down, filling my lungs with pure air and invoking the spirits of the Andes to give me strength so I can send it all to her. When she came out I went to Bucharest for ten days to cheer her up, and it looked like I managed. 

By the end of March I got back to Lisboa and started trying to build up a life of my own in the Atlantic garden that's Portugal. Nine long months of moving houses and cherishing vain hopes, delaying my departure week after week and month after month. I spent four of them working in a wine shop, a great opportunity to meet tourists from all over the place, make new friends and learn many things about local wines and spirits, especially Porto and Madeira. I can't say it was easy and the schedule was kind of heavy too, but it allowed me to spend the summer here without spending all my savings. I also experienced dating some Portuguese men, all together just a waste of time, although they seemed good on paper, they had high expectations, little patience and consideration, so I just gave up on it.

In October another wedding brought me back to my beloved Barcelona, where I was received with open arms and started seriously thinking to move back there by the beginning of 2014. Back in Lisbon I suddenly started to have job interviews. I moved four houses in one month while waiting for answers, feeling like a gypsy with my boxes, suitcase and various bags, I still wonder how much can I endure before I break. And after about six weeks the miracle happened and I landed a my actual job, found an acceptable flat downtown, overlooking a garden, and met someone who thought I was special and was hoping to become the same for me. But this is an ongoing wobbly story, and I'm quite eager to see the outcome myself. The interesting part is that everything came towards me, without me looking into that specific direction.

And now I cannot say that 2013 lacked charm and the joy of life. Thanks to my relatives, my friends, complete strangers who treated me gently and offered me moments of happiness and trust in the human beings. Thanks to this sunny country and the Atlantic who offered me its cool waters to refresh my burning thoughts. Thanks to the beautiful city of Lisboa, its colourful houses, cobbled streets, old fashioned manners and old looking shops, charming grocery stores and delicious food. It's true that I feel more at ease now, more confident, but I enjoyed being here nevertheless even during those hardships. 

Day after day I learned to enjoy my walks to work, the lunch break reading or listening to music and eating an ice-cream in one of the most spectacular squares I've ever seen: Praça do Comercio.

Be thankful for the flowers, the sun, the people that smiled to me. I realised that the only thing that could make me unhappy is the uncertainty about tomorrow. But I always had food, a roof and warmth around me, plus a little extra for life's little pleasures. I basically didn't miss a thing. I learned to be less dependable on comfort, if I ever was. 

Be OPEN and willing to enjoy anything enjoyable, and things will come to you.

THAT SIMPLE

Balcony dinner: mozzarella di bufala, rucola, pepper and tomato salad

I just baked some zucchini and leek, sprinkled with a little olive oil and Aveiro sea salt, bought on the spot. They're so tasty on their own, I feel there's no need to add anything, not even herbs. Last week I made this very tasty brown lentil stew; again, not much in it, just lentils, onion, bell pepper and carrots, plus some garam masala and cumin, adding lemon and parsley when served. I love simple food. 

Caviar and oysters are expensive because rare, but they're actually not refined food, we gave it this aura of alimentary aristocracy. They are eaten as they come, no cooking or complicated mix of herbs and spices involved. I wish life was that simple. Or maybe it is, and we keep complicating it.

WINTER TRANSIT IN ROMANIA - Jan 24, 2012

Bucharest, crows at dusk

Already one month since I reached the port without a sea...home. I can't say I badly miss Barcelona, for the time being I enjoy being close to my family and old friends, discovering and rediscovering the good people and interesting and fun places around my beloved city. No matter what, Bucharest is my city. I love the theaters here, some places in the old town, the parks, the 1900-1940 neighbourhoods, some of the old fashion shops and beyond any doubt the best and cheapest street food in the Western world (I guess we belong to it a little since we are part of the EU:) I discovered a great art gallery and new theatre spaces, happy also that some of the old spots like La Scena, hosting theatre, jazz concerts and tango nights in an old classic house, are still there.

It finally snowed by the end of January, and I enjoyed it, with the sun shining bright and the million sparkles all around, covering the grayish parts, the garbage, the dog shit. There is a cold dramatic beauty, made of contrasts, tree branches reaching the up the sky, black and white, crows at dusk, kids with colourful clothes in the white park, with their sledges or walking clumsily around, wrapped up in heavy jackets.

The down part lays in the terrible traffic conditions once the snow has settled, the metro is the only decent way to move in town. And I had to move a lot, running through different offices for my future job and trying to solve administrative problems related to the place I own. A full energy draining programme.

Two weeks of vacation in the French countryside, Rome, Naples and a bit of Tarquinia and Tuscania lessened the weight. I've learned some tricks about keeping the wood fire alive in the fireplace, played with three lovely boys and walked around the frozen pound, trying to laugh when we would wake up in the morning and find out that there is no hot water because the pipes were frozen solid. Roma keeps being the most beautiful city I've ever seen, Naples still has the most impressive bay and sea views (plus MADRE, a fantastic contemporary art museum), the Terme dei Papi were pure bliss in the middle of the snow and, above all, my Italian friends are still the most amazing, warm and hospitable people, God bless them!

Napoli, Posillipo, Palazzo Donn'Anna

P.S. I finally got to leave on Feb. 24, exchanging a gray winter, with icicles threatening to fall, water dripping from every roof around, huge puddles and mounds of dirty snow for a burgeoning bright spring. Fulfilling my dream and start working in cultural management. Feeling extremely lucky and grateful.

Be careful what you wish for...

On the move...again, almost there, like a wave you see approaching knowing it will drag you away. I could stay indeed, I love Barcelona, I moved here because I wanted to, I made my choice out of all the cities in Europe, this part of the world that makes me feel I belong.

And still, when I found out at the end of July that I was offered my dream job in a city I am also very fond of I said YES without giving it a second thought. The second thoughts came afterwards and it wasn't easy not to change my mind. I actually did, every day, looking around me at this charming city so comfortably nested between the mountains and the sea and wondering why shall I exchange the good with the better. When I first heard that the organization I work for opened offices in Barcelona I wished I could get a job there, it was rather wishful thinking, as I was still in Canada at the time. Then, before leaving Montreal, I wrote to a public institution that was also on top of my interest list, I was offered an interview as soon as I got home, with no consequences, I thought.

Then I moved to the city of my Mediterranean dreams. After struggling, with dignity, for eight months in Barcelona, having some interesting interviews that ended up in nothing, I finally got one in the international organization I was interested in since 2008. And right after the last interview I left for another one with the person who interviewed me one year prior, this time it was a concrete proposition.

Surprisingly enough, back in Barcelona I got the first job I wished for, not exactly the position I would have liked, but it was still something incredible to me, to work in a palace in the middle of a pine and palm trees park, full of green parrots and with a few ponds for the comfort of the resident ducks. Spending my day in an international multilingual environment, very enriching, with nice people around, organizing every few months meetings with representatives from a whole range of countries and cultures, around a very ambitious and generous project. Like a fish in the water. Or a duck?

Then, boom! four months after I started working I even got to make a choice. I have a theory about contemporary stress and anxiety being generated in great part by the variety of choices, from yogurt to a suitable life partner. So here I was, trying to decide what's best for me: I love both cities, one is bathed by warm waters, the other by cold ones; in Barcelona I have some nice new friends, there I have guaranteed lifetime friends, that received me with open arms after 13 years of absence, a few handwritten letters, postcards and emails. The job, well, the other job, that I will take in January, is what I always wanted to do, organize and promote cultural events, so I could join my expertise to my private interests. A beautiful challenge...that after all I could not avoid, it's stronger than me, as usual. I love change and change stresses me, but I simply don't take comfort as the best thing I could have. And I have comfort in Barcelona, even more than the city I love its geographic position, the closeness to the Pyrenees, to France, the Mediterranean embrace that created the amazing landscapes of Costa Brava. I will miss my beach afternoons and twilight swims, the hikes, the possibility to get abroad in three hours by train (last Saturday I passed from Spain to France and from France to Spain once in train and three times on foot). Otherwise, as a city, my next destination has its own undeniable spells to cast.

I shall be very very careful from now on with what I wish, either I meet the little gold fish or not, he might be under disguise.

WHAT'S GOING ON

The financial/ economic crisis is still rising and we don't seem to know the way out yet. People go with the flow, protest a little, live and work, party and have sex, going on with their lives, according to the means. I hear some of them around me complaining about their low (actually not so low) salaries, their social&professional position, the importance of their personal development, the value of their studies and knowledge. On top of it, we are accustomed to the welfare state, to go out, to satisfy our whims, eat in restaurants, drink and dance the night away, dress well and go shopping according to the season's fashion, take care of our feet, nails, hair, skin. And boom! a lot of us lost part of these privileges, that are seen as part of a normal, ordinary life, middle class routine.

Let's put it plainly, comfort (read hedonism) became our ideal in life, and our society is packed with personal development gurus, life coaches and counselors on how to become prosper and happy . The self rules: self-help, self-development, self-fulfillment, self-awareness, self-esteem, self-assurance, not forgetting the oh, so sweet!, self-reward. Love thyself first. This should be your daily thought "I deserve the best and my purpose in life is to get it". As soon as we miss something we feel unfulfilled. If we don't get the perfect job (including a matching salary), the ideal husband, the house of our dreams, we feel that our life is not complete and therefore we can't be happy. Because we are all taught that we are exceptional individuals and we have to struggle to achieve better and better and better and better... Companies produce more, many of them in other faraway countries, eventually overworking and underpaying the workers, so we can consume more, filling the inner void with objects of desire.

Our parents and grandparents did what they could in most cases, what the society conditioned them to do. They were raised with the idea that they should get married and build a family, didn't plan on how many children they should have and just struggled to maintain the family without thinking that much at their self development and personal growth. The main purpose was to raise the children and lead a decent life, giving something back to the society if they were richer. Lonely artists and scientists were eccentric exceptions. Of course, I am aware of the advantages of our freshly acquired freedom, especially when it comes to women (it wasn't too bad in the Roman Empire either). But I also think that this wild individualism with a strong hedonist orientation is not taking us too close to a peaceful mind and a serene soul. Learning to live with less and rely more on ourselves and less on things would do the trick.

I am no exception, I search for pleasure as much as everyone else, while I am trying to exert some self-criticism and keep it under control at the same time.

GENTLY SETTLING AND DRAWING LINES

A few months more since my last post and there are so many changes I contemplate now from a short time distance.

No. 1: I managed to get a stable job, after a one year not-easy-to-live-with gap. I work in a park inside of a palace, with a big window that lets in the sun, the chirping of the birds, the smell of resin in the heat. When I look outside I only see the various shades of green of the many types of pine trees trying to reach the sky. At lunch time I can have a half an hour break reading in the shade, eventually looking at the cotorras argentinas or the urracas. The ducklings I saw a few months ago swimming in the ponds and fountains are now as big as momma duck. My fellow workers are fun and kind, almost all of us get along nicely and I get to use almost all my languages on a daily basis. At the beginning of July I had to organize a reunion of about fifty government experts coming from 21 countries from Europe, North Africa and Middle East, everything went very smoothly and my department head thanked me in front of everyone at the end of the meeting. My writing skills were also put to work for the final public information text. So all together I feel useful and well treated. I was never extremely ambitious and the more I grow inside, the more I learn how to enjoy and be thankful for the good side of things in my life.

No. 2: My stand-by relationship got to a very inglorious cold end after my Cuban (future) ex paid me a one week visit enclosed in a six weeks trip to Spain. We started talking about marriage and a common future here and somehow on the way I realized that for one whole year I was floating in a beautiful and fragile soap bubble that suddenly broke and let me fall on the hard evidence that after all distance and time torn us apart. We were and we are very different, in terms of background and lifestyle, and this year our ways split to the point of no return. It was an emotional break for me, that I had to cope with after he left, that very moment was very short and I didn’t realize what was happening, that it was the last time we were seeing each other as a couple. When I left Canada and we said good-bye in the airport, there was sudden pain and many doubts about doing the right thing or not. It was a separation between two people that were in love and shared a home. It still hurts to know that the three years we were together and the one year of waiting and hoping were reduced merely to memories in no time. But at least I know there is no other way, it was a fine, sharp and clean cut, I can almost imagine a steel blade, guillotine style that suddenly falls and leaves no shreds.

No. 3: I managed to move from my cage aux folles, the Romanian run home, crowded and filled with cigarette smoke and too many times with strong cooking smells. My room was nice though and they were good people, but living in a different bubble. Now I stay in the same Sagrada Familia neighbourhood, on a street that bears the name of one of my favourite cities and above my tree level balcony there’s a blue metal plate that reads “La Ciudad de Buenos Aires”. I share with a nice Catalan girl who’s almost like a younger sister to me, and her dog, Ganja, a lovely half-blind and extremely affectionate cocker. The sitting room is big enough to be able to invite people for dinner again. When I wake up in the morning and I open my door, instead of cigarette smoke there’s Ganja happily wagging her piece of tail waiting to be cuddled.

No. 4: Last but not least, I managed to start moving around (one of the main reasons for coming back to mother Europe) and go visit friends in Lisbon and Toulouse that I have not seen for 13 and 15 years respectively. I was received with the utmost generosity, more like a long lost parent than like a friend that’s been away. Their home was my home and I was moved to tears to find out once more that friendship after all is probably the most beautiful and deep thing in my life.

Lisbon was celebrating the national day and Santo Antonio, the streets were blooming with colourful decorations and the smell of grilled sardines filled the hot air. On Saturday night I went alone to a fado concert set inside the Sao Jorge castle on the hill, overlooking the Tejo estuary under the stars. Besides, the city is as beautiful as ever and I got to visit other spots in this small and charming country by the ocean: Alcochete, Montemor-o-Novo, Evora, Cabo da Roca. Fabulous blue, green and pink (roofs) landscapes, great food, not to mention the company…so I’m going back in August, to spend more time with my Portuguese soul sisters and keep discovering the Lusitanian hidden treasures.

Toulouse, la ville rose aux bords de la Garonne, en plein Midi, with amazing Gothic buildings still standing up, especially le Monastère des Jacobins (I have a special weakness for cloisters) and the scrumptious French desserts. Not far, on the shores of the Tarn, there's Albi, home of Toulouse-Lautrec, dominated by its high episcopal palace and the Ste. Cecile cathedral, masterpieces of pink brick Gothic, so far from the cold gray stones that usually served as building material.

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I am at a point in life where I dreamed and wanted to be ten years ago, is it still the same, am I able to enjoy it and appreciate as much as I would have then? I won some things and lost some things on the way, I’m a little stronger, a little emptier, a little wiser and even bitterer and less ready to believe in the beauty of things and expect the unexpected. But the sense of balance is here; my life is in Barcelona now. Although, after changing places quite a few times, I know nothing, no one and nowhere is for life, there´s no real security in anything, and that’s probably close to the Buddhist teachings about accepting change and transiency as unavoidable. I feel peace, there's only love missing.

Toys for grown-ups or how about slowing down a little

I had the opportunity to work at World Mobile Congress by mid-February. It looked quite interesting for a global research about nowadays "civilised" society. A research about how addicted we are to technology and its gadgets, to the point of getting to ignore what surrounds us.

I made my mobile phone contract with Movistar a few months ago, over the phone, at a time when my number belonged to another company.Lady Bermudez, the customer service employee who attended me, wanted me to choose my ideal phone from a whole list of technical marvels. Smart phone or BlackBerry, I could have chosen any of them to be included in my contract. Or maybe not any, I don't know much about these things. For me telephones are what their name says: telecommunications devices that transmit and receive sound, most commonly the human voice. (according to Wikipedia). And to Merriam-Webster too, pretty much the same definition. Britannica says: an instrument designed for the simultaneous transmission and reception of the human voice.

Apparently mobile phones are a whole different story, they transmit voice, video and data. You can play games on them, find your way, send and receive money, and God and telecommunications engineers know what. Sincerely, I feel more carefree and free in general with a phone that only serves its original purpose, to talk. I'm not very fond of text messages either as I am more at ease with computers, that offer me the same dimensions, more or less, as a letter size sheet of paper. And I prefer to read on paper rather than on computer screens as I like e-mails more than chat, for allowing me to develop my ideas at a different pace. At the end of the day it looks like it's more a question of time and space: speed and text size. I'd rather go slow than fast and rather long than short. Most probably I belong to the paper cultureand I get addicted to technology applications that remind me of it. Obviously, I am not a busy business person. From their point of view I totally agree with the necessity of smart phones.

Now, back to the congress. At some point I was at a welcome desk and the three girls around me were busy with their phones, buttoning and reading the screen. I felt like an alien, or rather like a normal flesh and bone person among aliens, the busy business world. But somehow I felt comfortably so, floating in my bubble, free to watch the beautiful museum hall and observe the people around me, ready to make eye contact and welcome them when necessary. At the congress a whole pavilion was dedicated only to applications, Skype had a stand there, a free coffee bar, tables with phones and even mini-computers/over-sized phone screens from where you could call anywhere in the world for free. Google Android had a whole stand for itself in the hall where I worked every day. It looked like a fun park, all green, with a big slide and huge Android toy like replicas everywhere. There were green fruity candies in all congress locations, at the stand they were giving away pins and fruity smoothies named after Android features, the litchi-honey one was called Honeycomb for instance. There were also Gingerbread and Donut flavours. They were also giving away mini-Androids designed by Andrew Bell, on the box one could read that it was an art object and not a toy, recommended for 15+. All together most places looked very colourful and had great visual impact, with lots of big screen and different types of projections. It was hard to believe it was all about this small personal device we all use.

On the last day I went out for a beer with a friend and a guy at a bar had a funny fluffy toy bird, looking like a plush ball. I asked him if it's a grown-up toy and he was amazed that I didn't know what the Angry Birds are, and even more so when I told him I use my phone only for talking. It reminded me of my Canadian boss at the Hilton in Romania who couldn't believe that I had no idea what Macy's was or what an amazing Christmas parade they had. Our cultural references seem to move farther and farther away from the word culture, or the meaning me personally I give to it.

Giving all this a common sense I would say we are becoming more and more addicted to toys and technology gadgets, absorbed by our phones and computers, finding harder to get closer to people in more direct and simple ways. All these games and applications make us less observant, lazier, dependent on accessories that are not really a necessity, but that we consider so and feel lost and nervous without. We are also becoming more selfish, less responsible and responsive, behaving like big kids, for whom entertainment is their main interest. Obviously we become easier to manipulate too. And to me here is the clue, to transform us in a crowd willing to work more so we can consume and play more, without any deeper thoughts.

The Europe without borders, now and then

I got the idea of this brief posting when I saw in the Prado Museum the portrait of Isaac H. Sequiera, made by Thomas Gainsborough, whose doctor he was. Born in Portugal in a Jewish family, he emigrated to Bordeaux and studied medicine in Leyden, Holland, getting to settle in London where the portrait was made.

I found it weird when some people wonder how comes I lived and traveled so much in more than a country. Or when they affirm the world has changed, with this continuous movement beyond borders. Since the antiquity, merchants, scholars, warriors and explorers/adventurers have traveled extensively, looking for either wealth, knowledge or distraction. Artists, monks and mercenaries for instance were very active since the Middle Ages.

A great example is Saint Anthony, known as "of Padua", who was actually born in Lisbon. Even professionals like Dr. Sequiera changed places many times. Not to speak about artists, Caravaggio, Da Vinci, Ribera being but a few. There was no tourism, as we understand it now, traveling without an exact purpose, just for the sake of sightseeing and spending money elsewhere. I guess it's during the XIX century when it became very fashionable for the wealthy classes, especially for people from the Northern European countries to go South to France and Italy, extending later to Spain and Portugal. Not even the Erasmus student exchange programme is such a novelty; when universities were founded there were very few, so people who wanted to study had to travel far for that.

Briefly, the ways to travel changed, but traveling is still the same.

Waiting room overlooking the Mediterranean

The Germans have a saying: Alle Anfang ist schwer - all beginnings are hard. Starting over for the umpty umpth time at almost thirty six (well, one day away by now) is certainly hard for me. And I wonder how smart it was to stay home in Bucharest for five months, as it broke my heart leaving the house I grew up in, that in end I was sharing with barely my cat. Certainly, I have a strong affinity with Spanish culture, I am eager to learn more about Catalunya and I've always dreamed to live close to the Mediterranean, this space where cultures met, clashed and eventually mixed. The trendy and touristy Barcelona certainly doesn't attract me at all, but I am fascinated by its long history and beautiful imaginative buildings. Besides, it's a very functional city, where transports and cleaning work pretty well, and so far people seem to be very nice and helpful, from the bank clerk who gave me visitor information when I went to open my account, to the people who explained me thoroughly the annual celebration - Festa Major, of the sea town Sitges.

I have a strange feeling of being in the right place at the right time, although the job market is a mess, and at the same time I can tell I won't be staying here forever, my guess is that I will move further South, in Spain or another country. But for now I have to stay and learn some new life lessons here. The six months since I left my last job start to weigh on me, I need to keep myself busy, and not exactly entertained, that wouldn't be enough, and it requires money too. Since I came three weeks ago everything has fallen into place, except medical insurance, which depends on my social status: student, worker or no income person. The PhD programme won't start until October and jobs are hard to get, there are many Spaniards and Europeans in competition, although my knowledge of languages and international studies and experience are good assets.

I miss my cat, I wish I could bring her over as soon as possible, but my roomie, who happens to be nice, is allergic at animal hair. At least it's easy to make new friends, I tried the Meetup groups of interest and they work well here too, I can't wait to go hiking this Saturday and the next whole week-end. Nature and art are my best friends when the dark thoughts overcome my enthusiasm.

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.