Category Places

Discovering Lisbon

I went to Lisbon impressed by Wim Wenders’ film Lisbon Story. The blue-yellow city situated on the hills and the red Ponte 25 de Abril bridge over the Tagus river appeared from the plane’s window exactly like in the movie.

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Portrait of the town

Think you are escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.

James Joyce

My town has eyes as deep as the Atlantic. When the sun sometimes blinks, the eyes of the town turn into chestnut doggies, running and enjoying the streets without rain.

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Brussels Cat

One autumn, I was in Brussels. Yesterday, the photos reminded me of that. Yellow and copper leaves scattered on the sidewalks in the city centre, beige and grey tenement houses, sceneries with an admixture of orange and burgundy – they are colours of Brussels.

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On the hike to Carrantuohill – sheep, elephants and myself

You should not go to the mountains alone. Because you never know what might suddenly happen. A woman who stayed with us last year also said that she would be fine on the hike to Carrantuohill, but she got stuck in a crack and had to be rescued by helicopter.

-so said John, when I announced that tomorrow I am going to the mountains alone. And he was right, but my desire to climb was stronger than fear that the wind would blow me off the ridge of the higgest mountain of Ireland.

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Holiday postcard from County Clare

For the summer escapade we went three times to County Clare which stretches on the south from Galway. We have discovered the Burren dominated by glaciated karst, bright spaces but also caves, mysterious archaeological traces, cliffs of all sizes, magical greenness and colourful cottages.

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“Hello darkness, my old friend”

When the light goes out over my story, I hesitate to get up and make a coffee in an orange mug but I do it and go into the darkness. The wipers can not keep up with the ocean that pours in front of my eyes. I feel dizzy in my head for thirty minutes. And finally, I see that sheep also like to hide under a rock.

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Galway after sunrise #1

This city wear jeans and spreads poems in culs-de-sacs. Here time is like the ocean, patiently shining between my fingers.

Twelve years ago I met a city inlet of the Atlantic, full of shimmering colours, sincere tolerance, songs flowing to the heart – and the loud cries of seagulls. Then I thought that I would like to live here someday. After some years, the fleeting vision turned into reality. I have lived in Galway for seven years.

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The light of Paul Cézanne

He is a painter, his job is to paint. For himself, for painting, because that is his vocation, because he would not be able to not transform what he sees into the painting works.

– wrote Henri Perruchot in the book “Cézanne”.

This is one of my favourite publications. It made me want to go to Aix-de-Provence, a small town in France, where a boy was born, who at the age of five scribbled with charcoal on the walls of what surrounding him, and people were surprised how realistic it was.

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