Što sam prvo kupila mojoj nerođenoj bebi? Majcu na pingvina " cool like daddy". Zatim malog sasvim malog cute zekota, i šuškalicu mačku.
Zatim knjige. Knjigu na engleski, pa naravno da če beba pričat odma dva jezika, knjigu sa velikim stršećim ljubičastim slonom, i mekanu priču za žvakanje u obliku svih morskih životinja.
Prvi dar za bebu, dala mi je londonska kuma. Maloga zekota. Brat, čak iz iste serije kao prvi zeko samo deblji s većim šapama. I dizajnerske bajke za bebe u bjelo za božić od Matje.
Teta barbara htjela nam je napraviti goblen ali nisam znala spol pa čeka da zna odrediti boje.
Sljedeće stvari koje su se nizale obojane su u sve mogučnosti, roze dude, i žute stvari na medvjediće, robica na plave rige , avione, te roze na točkice i cvjeće.
Zatim me uhvatilo ludilo kao nikada prije za sređivanje doma, ili gnjezdenja, kupila sam lampe i pune torbe dekoracija za bor , pa da, sada smo u tri, mora biti veseli bor, ima dovoljno šarenila da sljedeći božić beba gleda i čupa dekoracije.
Poslje toga uhvtilo me crtanje slika koje bi veselile nekog maloga. Prvo mali konj koji trći travom pod plavim nebom, konjić na točkice, a onda me je puklo crtati crno bijele ovce. Ma svi znate da to nisam do sada slikala. Hormoni definitivno utječu. Prestala sam čitati knjige sa zlim likovima i vješticama. A mladen je prestao pušiti kad dođe doma, i stavljati njemu inače najdraže uspavanke , emisije o ubijanju , i spajanju leševa po ulicamam miamia, tako da ukine nočne more koje iz tih emisija inače sljede,jer nesmim sad imati ružne snove .
Zatim sam u Šibeniku kupila kožu sa vunom janjeta da bebi bude toplo zimi u Zagrebu u kolicima, iako če se roditi u proljeće.
A nakon toga se beba pokazala. Prvi snimak koji pokažu doktori izgleda kao neka video igra iz osamdesetih. Nešto sivo, izpikelizirano, kao drago nam je ali nekuži se baš ništa.
A kada sam vidjela pravu sliku, super soničnu u detaljima kao nagrada čekanja za pregled 4 sata bez pregovaranja , doktor mi je za unapred dogvorenu jubilarnu frank kavu pokazao i spol. Ha neču vam reči. Ali nemogu opisati gušt što sam konačno vidjela glavu, i oči, i prstića deset, prstića kojie se miču, i rukice koje putuju gore dolje, i noge koje vrte u krug, i nožne prstiće. I tada sam shvatila da ono što me nekada zaboil je zapravo udarac nogom od ove male bebe. Javlja se.
Počela se javljati kada Mladen dođe kući. Očito raspozna glas. Mladen otvori vrata a ja dobijem nogom . Mladen nemože zbog toga bit sretniji. Zatim me tuče kada previše vježbam, kada plešem ili hodam očito i beba počme vrtit nogama, i tuče tuče dok ne legnem pa se smiri.
A što se tiče hrane. voli kisele kukumare. sir. maslo. med. kolače. torte od oraha. voli pršut i to masni kao što nikad nisma baš jela, i voli karote, obožave karote, i kupus, i stalno mi šalje snove o ribi na gradele. Jedino ne podnosi smrad pašticade, vinske kvasine, preferia junetinu juhi od bundeve, a kinesku spizu mrzi najviše od svega, čim pojedem nešto sa sojom iz kineskog restorana loše mi je. Ali svaki obid najviše voli zalit s domaćim sokom od jabuke. Zanima me hoče li uživati iste stvari i kada se rodi.
Trbuh je sad poprilično vidljiv svima. I teži, nemogu baš ležat na leđima. I ružno je nostit bilo kakve laštike preko trbuha, tute, gege, hulahope, sve stišće i tjera ič pišit. A da ne prićam o ređipetu. Ređipet postane neadekvatan čim se kupi. Jej konačno velike sise. Al bilo bi puno zgodnije biti u drugom stanju među plemenima amazone ili u vemenu hipija kada je bilo u redu šetati okolo sa kadenama od bobica i cvjeća za odjeću. Sljedeću trudnoću treba obavit kod Ivane i Tatjane u Mekisu, devet mjeseci u bikiniju.
Sada veliko pitanje nam visi nad glavama, dali da dopustimo da se beba rodi u Zagrebu ili da vozimo pred rođenje u Split ? Stric budući nikako ne dopušta da rodimo purgera, šta da dite govori Kaj i navija za Dinamo? I da svaku put kada dokumenti pitaju gdje si rođen mora sakrivati mjesto rođenja ko rođak Nal kojega je sudbina potrefila da ostaka života izostavlja ,Ljubljana? Ili da ko prika Mislav sa Bola mora cijeli život za rodno misto pisat Kenija, jer je rođeni afrikanac. Čak primjetno nešto od rodong mista prati mislava cijeli život, onaj afrički extra slow ritam fijake kojega ni jedan ne-afrički fijakar na svijetu nemože dobit. Šta če to bit ako nam se dite rodi purger? Oče li volit more ili če terorizirat sa bicikl om po bickilističkim stazama grada?
Sljedeći stavka naravno je ime. Sve u svemu kupila sam za Božić knjigu imena tako da imamo više izbora, kao vatroslav, boroslav, vjetromir. Mladenov Nono obećava ne pričati snama više ikad ako se dite ne zove po njemu. Mada je sina i unuka već nazva po sebi. Nona na drugu ruku tjera da ime bude po njenoj materi. Mladen cijeli život želi jedno jedino ime,ali pitanje je bili to odabrala ja. Moja mama preferira imena kao, Srna, Labud, Mjesec. Dok mi jedan brat savjetuje, ime Bob, a drugi Duško. A mladenovu mater nije briga ako bude muško. A Mladen se boji dati izbor meni jer sam imenovala mačka Mjauf a pasa Kupina.
Ma dosta razmišljanja. Moram nešto pojest hirto sada.
Saturday 29 December 2012
Tuesday 11 December 2012
The toes of change
Im painting my toes . Red of course. The toenails look like berries.
In fact this whole introduction could go that familiar way of many a summer photograph, of girl shoting the photo of her own feet fronting a beach sceene.
The problem with my very red toes is that one rather sticks out. The nail being a color more blackberry. And though I have layered the varnish generousley reaching the danger of it never drying and sticking to the stocking in a while, the dark shade portrudes.
We had awoken after the most tempestuous storm ever spent in a boat. Cowering fetus-shape in the cockpit beneath the most servile of masts offering its 30 meters above the water as a magnet to the vicious bolts of lightning aimed at us by Neptune all night. M smoked staring out at flash lit black horizon. I had resigned to die or become a shaman in the Peruvian tradition which befalls survivers of lighting, and fell asleep to the rock and roll of the sea. It felt like the end, The End.
However the sun rose out of its purple mountains in the east melting the clouds, and awoke us at dawn quite surprisingly whole, and hyperactive with life. I pinged on the elastic bikini straps and dove into the deep green waters and milliards of boubles .
With this new god given life we took the dinghy to Bol beach to celebrate with the various beach creatures who had started to crawl out of steaming straw huts, divers, surfers, with whom we had coffees, compared experiences,and than put on suits and air tanks to dive awhile in the magnificent 3d nemo land.
Having survived what seemed a something very extraordinary I had to get back to very ordinary and anti climatic routine of work on the island Hvar. M started the boat south and plinged off my bikini. Last bit of freedom between the contents. The boat was put on auto pilot. Luxurious sun and wind in the hair.
As we neared the little islands infornt of Jelsa I sat at the kern and dragged the feet in the sea. The surface was slippy and the foot slid into a square of metal above the propeller. The pain felt in the little toe was so intense I cried. Months later the toenail is still bruised like a blackberry. Its snowing outside. The roofs are covered with thick creamy white. I have a round belly and two hearts beating inside.
Quite a different stage setting. I suppose the black toe and the night of the storm mark es the begging of the ultimate change. Well the nine months of gradual change. Of home, of interests, of name too. And by the time, the postmodern wedding is over and baby is in the air, the toe nail would have gown out. They will be all red again.
In fact this whole introduction could go that familiar way of many a summer photograph, of girl shoting the photo of her own feet fronting a beach sceene.
The problem with my very red toes is that one rather sticks out. The nail being a color more blackberry. And though I have layered the varnish generousley reaching the danger of it never drying and sticking to the stocking in a while, the dark shade portrudes.
We had awoken after the most tempestuous storm ever spent in a boat. Cowering fetus-shape in the cockpit beneath the most servile of masts offering its 30 meters above the water as a magnet to the vicious bolts of lightning aimed at us by Neptune all night. M smoked staring out at flash lit black horizon. I had resigned to die or become a shaman in the Peruvian tradition which befalls survivers of lighting, and fell asleep to the rock and roll of the sea. It felt like the end, The End.
However the sun rose out of its purple mountains in the east melting the clouds, and awoke us at dawn quite surprisingly whole, and hyperactive with life. I pinged on the elastic bikini straps and dove into the deep green waters and milliards of boubles .
With this new god given life we took the dinghy to Bol beach to celebrate with the various beach creatures who had started to crawl out of steaming straw huts, divers, surfers, with whom we had coffees, compared experiences,and than put on suits and air tanks to dive awhile in the magnificent 3d nemo land.
Having survived what seemed a something very extraordinary I had to get back to very ordinary and anti climatic routine of work on the island Hvar. M started the boat south and plinged off my bikini. Last bit of freedom between the contents. The boat was put on auto pilot. Luxurious sun and wind in the hair.
As we neared the little islands infornt of Jelsa I sat at the kern and dragged the feet in the sea. The surface was slippy and the foot slid into a square of metal above the propeller. The pain felt in the little toe was so intense I cried. Months later the toenail is still bruised like a blackberry. Its snowing outside. The roofs are covered with thick creamy white. I have a round belly and two hearts beating inside.
Quite a different stage setting. I suppose the black toe and the night of the storm mark es the begging of the ultimate change. Well the nine months of gradual change. Of home, of interests, of name too. And by the time, the postmodern wedding is over and baby is in the air, the toe nail would have gown out. They will be all red again.
Wednesday 5 December 2012
The christmass mood.
When sorrounded by people unsidposed to the festive spirit of the season one can always resort to tirckery to get them in to it.
1.Buy them a christmass tree. 2.Or if you share a house with somone who doesen't want the christmass tree, seduce them or bully them with their own logic until they give in or get tired of resiting.
Needless to say my christmass tree is up, earlier than ever. I recieved it instead of roses for my birthday tomorow. Also becouse I had bought so many decorations in London last week, I actualy had to hide two bags of it under my coat as not to show them to the air tikets control lady who certanly whould have charged me had she noticed I intended to push 3 bags over the premited one on to the plane. Thus once the bags where opened at the home end forcasting a sceen like an exploded father-christmass factory, with shiney multy colored baulbals, raindeer, snowmen and candysticks all over the place, it became clear the only way to get the house in order was to get the tree.
It looks lovley. Deffinatley did not go for the cool shop window look in meonochrome. Multy colured happyness remeniscant of childhood and the variaty of colures and shapes consiquent to annual breaking of the irresistable glass things by self, brothers or cat.
The only problem with this tree is that the potted thing is not releasinng the enchanting christmas forest smells. Not sure if its becosue it is in a pot and so not dying, or becosue the Hollandease who produced it grew it earth free in water and chemichals like they do tomatoes in their surge to destory all flavour and scent given by nature. Note. Will have to sprinkle the tree with the christmass tree water i distiled from last years local branches.
3. To get people in the festive mood festive alcohol and a few visuals can do. Leaving Ninas house I left a Christmass card and a bottle of port and suddnely the 9 other inhabbitans where talking christmass and dreaming mothers cooking in cosy saftey of home away from the london biting for survival.
4. Mulled vine does the same trick.
5. Lynsey taking about wanting her mom to knit a giant christmass pudding jumper, inspired me to buy a raindeer one and all sort of merry socks which by wearing inconspicuousley gets people around self in a chain reaction of simmilar mood.
6: Aunty babrara decided to stage a christmass dinner for my last night in lichfield with all the british trims, coliflour chease, stuffing, cranberry jelly, sausages in coats, and turkey in november. Everything tasted so magical that i even devoured with relish the sprouts and parsnip i clearley remember not likeing before. So as you see its not entirley my fault for getting the contageous bug and carrying it several thousant airmiles to Zagreb where no one seems to be in the chrsitmass mood yet.
Though it did snow for the first time last night. And it is the day of Saint Nicholas tomorow. And thoguh everyone will get a present in a sock under their pillow here, its my birthday and so am very excited.
Will make a delicious dinner , play the martini in the morning radio which at this time djs notting but seasonal classics, and will get everyone in the chrsitmas mojo. Mmm.
The house all ready smells of baking stars .
1.Buy them a christmass tree. 2.Or if you share a house with somone who doesen't want the christmass tree, seduce them or bully them with their own logic until they give in or get tired of resiting.
Needless to say my christmass tree is up, earlier than ever. I recieved it instead of roses for my birthday tomorow. Also becouse I had bought so many decorations in London last week, I actualy had to hide two bags of it under my coat as not to show them to the air tikets control lady who certanly whould have charged me had she noticed I intended to push 3 bags over the premited one on to the plane. Thus once the bags where opened at the home end forcasting a sceen like an exploded father-christmass factory, with shiney multy colored baulbals, raindeer, snowmen and candysticks all over the place, it became clear the only way to get the house in order was to get the tree.
It looks lovley. Deffinatley did not go for the cool shop window look in meonochrome. Multy colured happyness remeniscant of childhood and the variaty of colures and shapes consiquent to annual breaking of the irresistable glass things by self, brothers or cat.
The only problem with this tree is that the potted thing is not releasinng the enchanting christmas forest smells. Not sure if its becosue it is in a pot and so not dying, or becosue the Hollandease who produced it grew it earth free in water and chemichals like they do tomatoes in their surge to destory all flavour and scent given by nature. Note. Will have to sprinkle the tree with the christmass tree water i distiled from last years local branches.
3. To get people in the festive mood festive alcohol and a few visuals can do. Leaving Ninas house I left a Christmass card and a bottle of port and suddnely the 9 other inhabbitans where talking christmass and dreaming mothers cooking in cosy saftey of home away from the london biting for survival.
4. Mulled vine does the same trick.
5. Lynsey taking about wanting her mom to knit a giant christmass pudding jumper, inspired me to buy a raindeer one and all sort of merry socks which by wearing inconspicuousley gets people around self in a chain reaction of simmilar mood.
6: Aunty babrara decided to stage a christmass dinner for my last night in lichfield with all the british trims, coliflour chease, stuffing, cranberry jelly, sausages in coats, and turkey in november. Everything tasted so magical that i even devoured with relish the sprouts and parsnip i clearley remember not likeing before. So as you see its not entirley my fault for getting the contageous bug and carrying it several thousant airmiles to Zagreb where no one seems to be in the chrsitmass mood yet.
Though it did snow for the first time last night. And it is the day of Saint Nicholas tomorow. And thoguh everyone will get a present in a sock under their pillow here, its my birthday and so am very excited.
Will make a delicious dinner , play the martini in the morning radio which at this time djs notting but seasonal classics, and will get everyone in the chrsitmas mojo. Mmm.
The house all ready smells of baking stars .
Monday 19 November 2012
Kidnapping the cousins.
Yesterday new cousins turned up. From Chicago. We are related trough the brother of my grandfathers father who left for America from Kaštela about a century ago. One of the arrived cousins is doing the American fashionable thing, putting together his family roots, drawing a tree . His mother's side is native American/Irish/French, and his fathers side is simply Perišin. The begging of all Perišins coming from Kaštel Kambelovac and Kambelovac being point zero, the matrix, factory of PeriŠin production made it easy for him to start his investigation in the old country in person.
There we where, mother and I, at the air port waiting for these cousins to pop out of history, mother excitedly simmering on the banister of arrivals trying to piece together various mouths, eyes, noses, ears, cut outs from memories and black and white photographs to construct a collage of the veritable cousin. It started before even entering the air port, at the taxi stand, " Perišin" She pointed excitedly at some people who replied with a expulsion of cigarette smoke forming a "No". "They looked nice" Mother resigned" They could have been our cousins". " They where french" I ended the conversation.
Whilst mother ready to tear up bobbed up and down trying to figure out the Chicagoans I introduced my self to cousins who too where waiting for the same Chicago package. These in fact live locally, right next to our cherry orchard but i did not know them. They knew me though. I somehow scraped out a picture of a curly haired skinny girl who played on my grandparents balcony during the summers i spent here from England. Their daughter. "Ah how is she" I excitedly enquire happy to have some recollection of who they are in exchange for their knowing all the latest updates on myself." She has a two year old, and 200 kilos" Replies her mother cruelly, and than embarks on a romantic tale of a favourite child of hers who i don't remember existing.
Meanwhile squealing from mother announces the Chicago cousins. The man looks Irish. The lady well an American lady. Mother is kissing teary eyed and stroking her hair. I dish out my bouquet to the lady lumbering her with something additional to carry and we all set of towards the car park.
The Irish looking cousin is smoking profusely as if it where his oxygen in a new atmosphere. The wife and husband who live next to the orchard load all the baggage into their car, than started to reel of an itinerary of activities which would keep the arrivals busy and in their own company for the whole week, but before they could say other wise, mother swiftly claimed the lady cihchago and took her to our automobile.
"You came back so soon "mother says "after only two months"." Ah it was my bother and another sister who came. "They where hoping to meet all of the relatives". Than she went silent." Not wishing to elaborate at something clearly displeasing.
Yes a touchy theme was this previous visit of her brother. After almost half a century he visited kaštela whiteout saying hello to any one apart from the cousins by the orchard. In fact they had spent the whole trip with the orchard cousins, whiteout them having told anyone else in the family that these famous Chicagoans are here. No one else got to meet them and where offended .
It was lynching the orchard cousins about their selfish keeping of the Chicagoans's that mother found out about this second coming, and spread the news. We where at the airport not out of previous agreement but more acting as hijackers on the arrival of the Chicagoans that the orchards where yet again planing to steal from the rest of us. This I was not aware of until we appeared at the air port.
However there reminded a mystery of as to why did the orchard cousins, who mother informed, are descendants of that horrible old woman neighbour who grandad could not stand, why did they keep the arrival of the Chicagoans so secret, and not introduce them to the rest who so keenly wanted to meet them, especialy as they where not any closer related to them than the resto fo us.
You had such beautiful hair when you where a child. mother says. Do you remember anything from your trip here? That i was very sick.replies the newcommer scraping her memories. And your father who picked us from the air Port and took us on a boat ride. The Chicagoans had obviously been here half a century ago i summarise, stayed with my grandparents a whole family of 7 children and parents. It was that visit which had left such lasting impressions on a whole generation of relatives in Kaštela, sweetened by childhood and time,which explained their keenes to meet them once again.
Mother took the scenic and longer route towards the hotel where the Chicagoans resided. We had time to get to know the cousin a little better hear about her life in the states, her children and her work. She had studied in a ivy league university, where her daughter studies, where the orchard's cousins youngest daughter is planing to go. Did we not know that? How strange how little we know about one another here where we live so close, she must have tought.
We dropped her of towards the hotel and the orchards cousins re represented their itinerary for the internationals, having cut out the plans my mother had for inviting the guests to dinner the next day. This was in smiles re arranged before the orchards gruffly drove off and we made our good byes.
Well that solved the mystery. Mother explained. They are trying to get their daughter into the American university trough them some how. And so they don't want their wonder full generous impression to be diluted by others. Of course we would not have known that. I did not even know the orchard people until now. The transcontinental relatives may idealise this old family which seems to have stuck together so long, still living in the same town, generations on, when in fact most do not communicate unless necessary. Or when faced with outside influences such as this one when they are forced to organise things together and than for a short time which even gives them a warm feeling on the inside and makes them look like family. Yet it was the land on which thier houses and olives lie which has generaly been the reason for disputes that had split up the families and left them in unsolvable quarrels yet paradoxicaly bound them to live for ever more close to one another. Perhaps it is exactley the lack of inherited land which set free the new world cousings form forming gdruges over inheritance. Or perhaps we idealise them, becosue we dont know them as likley they had idealised us.
To celebrate the exited encouted mother immediately called up our favourite Perisin. He arrived with his nephew, the youngest in the family. And what do they look like? He asked. Mother immediately said how the youngest nephew and the irish looking cousing have exactly the same mouth. And when do i get to see them he asked? Ah you are not in the itinerary mother answered. Starting to reel of the list the orchards had prepared. Right. He was offended agian. We explained the reason why they may have hogged the Chicago cousins for them selfs. It makes sense. He replies. Orchard is the kind of man who did not give a job to his unemployed cousin whilst he was the manager of the shipyard which employed 40000 people. Oh, why did they have to get in contact with him first? Because both of you do not use the internet i replied ,and could not be contacted. Well he threw back candidley, we shall just have to kidnap the chichago cousins, from them.
There we where, mother and I, at the air port waiting for these cousins to pop out of history, mother excitedly simmering on the banister of arrivals trying to piece together various mouths, eyes, noses, ears, cut outs from memories and black and white photographs to construct a collage of the veritable cousin. It started before even entering the air port, at the taxi stand, " Perišin" She pointed excitedly at some people who replied with a expulsion of cigarette smoke forming a "No". "They looked nice" Mother resigned" They could have been our cousins". " They where french" I ended the conversation.
Whilst mother ready to tear up bobbed up and down trying to figure out the Chicagoans I introduced my self to cousins who too where waiting for the same Chicago package. These in fact live locally, right next to our cherry orchard but i did not know them. They knew me though. I somehow scraped out a picture of a curly haired skinny girl who played on my grandparents balcony during the summers i spent here from England. Their daughter. "Ah how is she" I excitedly enquire happy to have some recollection of who they are in exchange for their knowing all the latest updates on myself." She has a two year old, and 200 kilos" Replies her mother cruelly, and than embarks on a romantic tale of a favourite child of hers who i don't remember existing.
Meanwhile squealing from mother announces the Chicago cousins. The man looks Irish. The lady well an American lady. Mother is kissing teary eyed and stroking her hair. I dish out my bouquet to the lady lumbering her with something additional to carry and we all set of towards the car park.
The Irish looking cousin is smoking profusely as if it where his oxygen in a new atmosphere. The wife and husband who live next to the orchard load all the baggage into their car, than started to reel of an itinerary of activities which would keep the arrivals busy and in their own company for the whole week, but before they could say other wise, mother swiftly claimed the lady cihchago and took her to our automobile.
"You came back so soon "mother says "after only two months"." Ah it was my bother and another sister who came. "They where hoping to meet all of the relatives". Than she went silent." Not wishing to elaborate at something clearly displeasing.
Yes a touchy theme was this previous visit of her brother. After almost half a century he visited kaštela whiteout saying hello to any one apart from the cousins by the orchard. In fact they had spent the whole trip with the orchard cousins, whiteout them having told anyone else in the family that these famous Chicagoans are here. No one else got to meet them and where offended .
It was lynching the orchard cousins about their selfish keeping of the Chicagoans's that mother found out about this second coming, and spread the news. We where at the airport not out of previous agreement but more acting as hijackers on the arrival of the Chicagoans that the orchards where yet again planing to steal from the rest of us. This I was not aware of until we appeared at the air port.
However there reminded a mystery of as to why did the orchard cousins, who mother informed, are descendants of that horrible old woman neighbour who grandad could not stand, why did they keep the arrival of the Chicagoans so secret, and not introduce them to the rest who so keenly wanted to meet them, especialy as they where not any closer related to them than the resto fo us.
You had such beautiful hair when you where a child. mother says. Do you remember anything from your trip here? That i was very sick.replies the newcommer scraping her memories. And your father who picked us from the air Port and took us on a boat ride. The Chicagoans had obviously been here half a century ago i summarise, stayed with my grandparents a whole family of 7 children and parents. It was that visit which had left such lasting impressions on a whole generation of relatives in Kaštela, sweetened by childhood and time,which explained their keenes to meet them once again.
Mother took the scenic and longer route towards the hotel where the Chicagoans resided. We had time to get to know the cousin a little better hear about her life in the states, her children and her work. She had studied in a ivy league university, where her daughter studies, where the orchard's cousins youngest daughter is planing to go. Did we not know that? How strange how little we know about one another here where we live so close, she must have tought.
We dropped her of towards the hotel and the orchards cousins re represented their itinerary for the internationals, having cut out the plans my mother had for inviting the guests to dinner the next day. This was in smiles re arranged before the orchards gruffly drove off and we made our good byes.
Well that solved the mystery. Mother explained. They are trying to get their daughter into the American university trough them some how. And so they don't want their wonder full generous impression to be diluted by others. Of course we would not have known that. I did not even know the orchard people until now. The transcontinental relatives may idealise this old family which seems to have stuck together so long, still living in the same town, generations on, when in fact most do not communicate unless necessary. Or when faced with outside influences such as this one when they are forced to organise things together and than for a short time which even gives them a warm feeling on the inside and makes them look like family. Yet it was the land on which thier houses and olives lie which has generaly been the reason for disputes that had split up the families and left them in unsolvable quarrels yet paradoxicaly bound them to live for ever more close to one another. Perhaps it is exactley the lack of inherited land which set free the new world cousings form forming gdruges over inheritance. Or perhaps we idealise them, becosue we dont know them as likley they had idealised us.
To celebrate the exited encouted mother immediately called up our favourite Perisin. He arrived with his nephew, the youngest in the family. And what do they look like? He asked. Mother immediately said how the youngest nephew and the irish looking cousing have exactly the same mouth. And when do i get to see them he asked? Ah you are not in the itinerary mother answered. Starting to reel of the list the orchards had prepared. Right. He was offended agian. We explained the reason why they may have hogged the Chicago cousins for them selfs. It makes sense. He replies. Orchard is the kind of man who did not give a job to his unemployed cousin whilst he was the manager of the shipyard which employed 40000 people. Oh, why did they have to get in contact with him first? Because both of you do not use the internet i replied ,and could not be contacted. Well he threw back candidley, we shall just have to kidnap the chichago cousins, from them.
Tuesday 6 November 2012
operation wedding
Getting incrieasinlgey excited about wedding. To admitt to the truth i am not one of those frantic brides with a book full of brainstorms squeasing the juices of paitence from my groom. My vision has always been all those firends i love finaly trans internationaly in one place. Music. The man loved above all. Close family. Dancing. and losts of laughter. In the last few days i am recieving boubles of excitement back from friends, who are intending to come and i am now finaly excited. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. I can say i am happy even, and its not all wedding drag about menus and things. Just gigleing at the posibilites and the chemichal reactions of the various personalites in the same room interceeding with one another. Can not wait. I will need volonteers to dance a sun dance with me for the weather to be that balmy sunny windlles febuary day on sea rather than storm.But will take that chance and belive that the energies invited are stroing enought to bring the right weather aobut. AAAAAAA. Cant wait. My little mini united nations. There is a a dove half a meter from me at the window, so i suppose that is a good sign. Turing the music up baby. Yea.
Monday 5 November 2012
how to get wildlife at your city center home?
Its winter, leave the food you belive will attract the animals you want to see on your window sill or in front of the house. In london that maay be foxes. Here in zagreb i managed to see a mink. But better still for the last few days a variety of yellow birds are partying on the cake crumbs i leave in a saucer on the window sill. Each day there are new birds. And they like to strech their little necks into the glass and look in to say hellow, joy.
Friday 2 November 2012
Vjetar zvan Ladislav
Jučer na respektabinoj Hrvatskoj televiziji sve vijesti dana predstavljale su nemar vjetra zvanog zločesti Ladislav.
Koji je to vjetar zvan ladislav i od kuda je došao ? I zašto baš Ladislav se zove? Kako je znao predstaviti svoje kršćansko ime? Ladi slav. Jeli zato što je možda bio ladan? Ne dragi moji supatnici, vjetar zvan Ladislav nije ništa manje ni više nego brat vjetra zvanog Sandy u Americi. Kako je došao još nismo sigurni ali naravno tko drugi to može biti?
U Americi gdje se kuće grade od drva na položaijma gje se očekiva jak vjetar i gjde taj vjetar razonisi kuće kao da su od šibica , svi vjetrovi imaju svoje osobno indeficirajuće strašno ime. Ime koje personalizizira pojavu kao vrlo opasnu i veoma zločestu i koja njih osobno namjerava uništiti. Politička namjera vjetra nije mnogo različita od namjere Bin ladena, Sadama i ostalih nemesisa Amerike koji je cijeli svjet molim, očekivan mrziti. Zločesti vjetar Sandy, također osobno namjerava Ameriku uništiti.
U americi svaki neprijateljski vjetar je individualno kršćen, da ga je lakše identificirati , uočiti, izdovjiti , i pucati u njegovo zračno tjelo s granadama van obale, jer je ljudima koji žive uz obalu napunio podrume i okusili su oni predviđeni dugo očekivani smak svjeta koji su opisale maje, i nostradamus, i babe vračare.
Nestala je struja i svi su sletili prema pdrumima tražeći njihove skrivene mitraljeze i konzerve koje godinama spremaju praznovjerno znajući da če takav dan kad tada doči. Tresu se grleći pet-mačke sa revolverima u ruci isčekivajući da ih netko u mraku napadne prateći miris konzerviranog mesa od večere , a taj očekivani netko vjerojatno je zaražen bolesti zombija te morat će ga upucati bez razmišljanja, i tako nervozno pucaju u sve što šušti cijlu noć. A zar nije neobično što je vjetar Sandy baš napao uoči noći vještica pitaju jedno drugog tiho i prestrašeno u mraku. Možda se iz groblja vrgolje mrtvaci? Vjetrom lete duhovi starih indijanaca i vračaju im konačno? Tako naježeni čuče Amerikanci proteklih dana i čekaju da se razvije hohor sci- fi reality , no to je kod njih dio kulture.
Ali šta je reč da se jedan takav zloduh vjetar uvukao u Hrvatsku obalu? Pa svaki ribar zna kad je nevera da se treba povuč s mora, sist u kafič, nalit travarice i čekat da vitar prođe. Svaka baba zna da če jugo jer bole je zglobovi. Vjetrovi su stolječima imenovani po smjeru iz kojega pušu, imena su im limitirana kao i uzroci. Ma od kuda je odjednom iscurio Zločesti Ladsilav? Koja mu je potreba. Koji mu je cilj? Dali nas Ladislav želi uništiti sve? Nemoguče je da nešto zvano Ladislav što čupa stabla to neradi namjerno. Znanstvenici koji su ga imenovali mora da su ga prepoznali kao državnog neprijatelja očito povezanim sa Sandyem.
Dalmatinske su kuće građene sa vjetrom na umu, od kamena ili bar betona te ih vragolasti Ladislav nije tako lako uspijo razjapuriti i ispucati uokolo. No ipak, samo po njegovom imenu da se naslutiti da Ladislav nije obična prirodna pojava. Uskoro če ga pratiti vojska zločestih vjetrova, Zrinskih, Petrova i Zdeslava, koji će probudit stare grčke i ilirske bogove mora, neba i zemlje, a tek tada če nastupiti pravi dar mar.
Ladislav nagovješta početak kraja. Treba se pripremiti dragi prijatelji kao naši uzorni drugovi prosvjtljenog zapada amerikanci. Počmite danas. Skupljajte vriče brašna, konzervirano meso i skuše sa povrčem, kontejnere pikte vode, i oružje. Ne vjerujte više nikome tko zove vitar, vitar. I debljajte vaše kućne ljubimce jer jednoga dana morat če te ga pojesti da bi preživjeli!
Koji je to vjetar zvan ladislav i od kuda je došao ? I zašto baš Ladislav se zove? Kako je znao predstaviti svoje kršćansko ime? Ladi slav. Jeli zato što je možda bio ladan? Ne dragi moji supatnici, vjetar zvan Ladislav nije ništa manje ni više nego brat vjetra zvanog Sandy u Americi. Kako je došao još nismo sigurni ali naravno tko drugi to može biti?
U Americi gdje se kuće grade od drva na položaijma gje se očekiva jak vjetar i gjde taj vjetar razonisi kuće kao da su od šibica , svi vjetrovi imaju svoje osobno indeficirajuće strašno ime. Ime koje personalizizira pojavu kao vrlo opasnu i veoma zločestu i koja njih osobno namjerava uništiti. Politička namjera vjetra nije mnogo različita od namjere Bin ladena, Sadama i ostalih nemesisa Amerike koji je cijeli svjet molim, očekivan mrziti. Zločesti vjetar Sandy, također osobno namjerava Ameriku uništiti.
U americi svaki neprijateljski vjetar je individualno kršćen, da ga je lakše identificirati , uočiti, izdovjiti , i pucati u njegovo zračno tjelo s granadama van obale, jer je ljudima koji žive uz obalu napunio podrume i okusili su oni predviđeni dugo očekivani smak svjeta koji su opisale maje, i nostradamus, i babe vračare.
Nestala je struja i svi su sletili prema pdrumima tražeći njihove skrivene mitraljeze i konzerve koje godinama spremaju praznovjerno znajući da če takav dan kad tada doči. Tresu se grleći pet-mačke sa revolverima u ruci isčekivajući da ih netko u mraku napadne prateći miris konzerviranog mesa od večere , a taj očekivani netko vjerojatno je zaražen bolesti zombija te morat će ga upucati bez razmišljanja, i tako nervozno pucaju u sve što šušti cijlu noć. A zar nije neobično što je vjetar Sandy baš napao uoči noći vještica pitaju jedno drugog tiho i prestrašeno u mraku. Možda se iz groblja vrgolje mrtvaci? Vjetrom lete duhovi starih indijanaca i vračaju im konačno? Tako naježeni čuče Amerikanci proteklih dana i čekaju da se razvije hohor sci- fi reality , no to je kod njih dio kulture.
Ali šta je reč da se jedan takav zloduh vjetar uvukao u Hrvatsku obalu? Pa svaki ribar zna kad je nevera da se treba povuč s mora, sist u kafič, nalit travarice i čekat da vitar prođe. Svaka baba zna da če jugo jer bole je zglobovi. Vjetrovi su stolječima imenovani po smjeru iz kojega pušu, imena su im limitirana kao i uzroci. Ma od kuda je odjednom iscurio Zločesti Ladsilav? Koja mu je potreba. Koji mu je cilj? Dali nas Ladislav želi uništiti sve? Nemoguče je da nešto zvano Ladislav što čupa stabla to neradi namjerno. Znanstvenici koji su ga imenovali mora da su ga prepoznali kao državnog neprijatelja očito povezanim sa Sandyem.
Dalmatinske su kuće građene sa vjetrom na umu, od kamena ili bar betona te ih vragolasti Ladislav nije tako lako uspijo razjapuriti i ispucati uokolo. No ipak, samo po njegovom imenu da se naslutiti da Ladislav nije obična prirodna pojava. Uskoro če ga pratiti vojska zločestih vjetrova, Zrinskih, Petrova i Zdeslava, koji će probudit stare grčke i ilirske bogove mora, neba i zemlje, a tek tada če nastupiti pravi dar mar.
Ladislav nagovješta početak kraja. Treba se pripremiti dragi prijatelji kao naši uzorni drugovi prosvjtljenog zapada amerikanci. Počmite danas. Skupljajte vriče brašna, konzervirano meso i skuše sa povrčem, kontejnere pikte vode, i oružje. Ne vjerujte više nikome tko zove vitar, vitar. I debljajte vaše kućne ljubimce jer jednoga dana morat če te ga pojesti da bi preživjeli!
Tuesday 30 October 2012
PASJA VEGETA
Moj pas nevoli pasju hranu. Na drugu ruku obožava sve poškropano vegetom. Treba napraviti VEGETU ZA PASE.
A kada se već izumi pa najvjerojatnije je da bi pasja vegeta djelovala oblažujuće na generalnu čangrizavost. Ubacit malo vegete za pasa u juhu grintavoga dide imalo bi siguran efekt kao par čikara rakije i zaspa bi ko čuko na kauču popodne bez da zajebaje babu da promine program i skine mu meksičku seriju.
A navečer kad je već satra babu sa svim verzijama vjiesti u pet, pa šest, i usedem sati,sa hrt, i rtl i nove,i hrt i rtl 2 i bidna baba više nema pojma kako da otme daljinski iz panđa koje godinama već vježbaju minjat progrmame i držat cigaretu istom rukom, spasilo bi ju da postoji malo te pasje vegete da mu ubaci u blitvu od večere , da može na miru pogledat sulejmana i ostale turske serije koje su joj preostale kao jedini izvor strasti osim ogovaranja.
Da pasja vegeta postoji sigurno bi sadržavala veće količine toksičnih ultimatora ukusa nego ljudska, prosuta u tjesto palačinke imala bi više šanse da smiri i onu divlju dicu u susistvu koja sada kada se lito bliži kraju i nema više skakavaca kojima se s guštom čupaju noge pod uličnim svjetlima usmjeruju svu svoju energiju u izmišljanju bučnih divljaštvina kakve bi im zauzele dovoljno večeri samo da nemoraju pisati domaće radove.
A tek da je šjor Dujiću malo te pasje vegete pa da umoči one bosanske cigarete koje i tako nikada nisu ni vidile duha od duhana u pasju vegetu, te da ih prodaje onim kavanskim dangubama , koji se ponaašaju kada je haloween svako jutro i cjelodnevno tokom južine, lamataju rukama, pogledom bez cilja, sa zastrašujućim dahom od zombija, pa pretvorija bih ih u uljudne prostojne ljude, možda bi čak počeli i prati zube.
A da podravka napravi pasju vegetu moj pas bi bio više nego sretan. Pas koji inače čak i rižu sa vegetom prije pojede nego pasju hranu dubio bi od sereće na glavi. Mogao bi možda i podnjeti pepeo koji je umješan u kuhana crijeva i organe pedigre konzerve. Ma vjerojatno mu nebi trebala ni kosti počeo bi grist grane sa vegetom, i stare cijevi, kartone, ma da ima pasje vegete moj pas bi rado posta Mačka pa čak i vegetrijanac.
A kada se već izumi pa najvjerojatnije je da bi pasja vegeta djelovala oblažujuće na generalnu čangrizavost. Ubacit malo vegete za pasa u juhu grintavoga dide imalo bi siguran efekt kao par čikara rakije i zaspa bi ko čuko na kauču popodne bez da zajebaje babu da promine program i skine mu meksičku seriju.
A navečer kad je već satra babu sa svim verzijama vjiesti u pet, pa šest, i usedem sati,sa hrt, i rtl i nove,i hrt i rtl 2 i bidna baba više nema pojma kako da otme daljinski iz panđa koje godinama već vježbaju minjat progrmame i držat cigaretu istom rukom, spasilo bi ju da postoji malo te pasje vegete da mu ubaci u blitvu od večere , da može na miru pogledat sulejmana i ostale turske serije koje su joj preostale kao jedini izvor strasti osim ogovaranja.
Da pasja vegeta postoji sigurno bi sadržavala veće količine toksičnih ultimatora ukusa nego ljudska, prosuta u tjesto palačinke imala bi više šanse da smiri i onu divlju dicu u susistvu koja sada kada se lito bliži kraju i nema više skakavaca kojima se s guštom čupaju noge pod uličnim svjetlima usmjeruju svu svoju energiju u izmišljanju bučnih divljaštvina kakve bi im zauzele dovoljno večeri samo da nemoraju pisati domaće radove.
A tek da je šjor Dujiću malo te pasje vegete pa da umoči one bosanske cigarete koje i tako nikada nisu ni vidile duha od duhana u pasju vegetu, te da ih prodaje onim kavanskim dangubama , koji se ponaašaju kada je haloween svako jutro i cjelodnevno tokom južine, lamataju rukama, pogledom bez cilja, sa zastrašujućim dahom od zombija, pa pretvorija bih ih u uljudne prostojne ljude, možda bi čak počeli i prati zube.
A da podravka napravi pasju vegetu moj pas bi bio više nego sretan. Pas koji inače čak i rižu sa vegetom prije pojede nego pasju hranu dubio bi od sereće na glavi. Mogao bi možda i podnjeti pepeo koji je umješan u kuhana crijeva i organe pedigre konzerve. Ma vjerojatno mu nebi trebala ni kosti počeo bi grist grane sa vegetom, i stare cijevi, kartone, ma da ima pasje vegete moj pas bi rado posta Mačka pa čak i vegetrijanac.
Saturday 27 October 2012
priče za djecu, pustolovina na cetini
Jednom ne toliko davno u sred ljeta baka i dida odlučili su djecu odvesti vidjeti rijeku Cetinu.
Kako su se djeca navikla kupati u moru suprostavljali su se ikakvom udaljavanju od njihve najdraže plaže.
Ivo je odmah odgovorio- Ali sigurno nema tamo rakova za loviti. U krivu si odgovori Dide- ima tamo mnogo rakova i to riječnih kakve niste još vidjeli. Ali jako je vruće odgovori mala Antonia kako čemo bez kupanja cijeli dan? Kupati ćete se u rijeci, odgovori baka. I tako Ivo, Antonija, i Jure prihvate putovanje, i sjednu u Didov veliki stari auto koji je uvjek mirisao po travama, zemlji i avanturama.
Ivo je odmah pronašao frulu koju je dide napravio od grane i počeo svirati dok su druga djeca i baka poklapljai uši rukama.
Evo nas djeco stigli smo u grad Omiš najavio je Dide. Ovaj grad nekoć bio je grad opasnih gusara, imao je i kralja gusara. A princezu gusara takošer jei tako dide?Cvrkutala je Antonia. Da imali su i gusarsku princezu i kraljicu . A jesu li živjeli na onom dvorcu na brdu? Prstom je pokazivao Jure poviše krovova grada. Da odgovori baka . Idemo li istraživati? Pitao je Ivo. Drugi put, odgovorio je odlučno djeda, sada idemo bordom po rijeci Cetini i kroz onaj veliki kanjon koji vidite .
Baka dida i djeca ukrcali su se u narančasti drveni brod pun ljudi i brod se odgurnuo od obalu grada Omiša i krenuo uzvodno uz rijeku. Brod je prošao kroz dvije goleme stijene koje su izlegale kao drevna vrata nekog čarobnng mjesta, zatim još dvije visoke stijene koje su bacale sjenu na rijeku. Nije to bila baš neka dosadna rijeka kava su djeca očekivala , Cetina izlegala je kao da skriva svakakve tajne. Rijeka je bila puna života .Putjući vidjeli su planine , patke, druge brodove, ribe pa čak i labudove i jako mnogo šaša u kojem su se skrivale životinje kakave su stvarlae svakakve svukove.
Brod se zaustavio pored staroga mlina. Ovdje čemo ručati kazao je dida. Neee vrištala su djeca. Pa tek smo stigli! Pa dobro odgovori dida malo ćemo prošetati prvo, i povede provrku veslee djece u šetnjicu uz obalu rijeke.
Uz rijeku rasla je prava džungla. Djeca us se morala provlćiti kroz grane kao pravi istraživaći . Bilo je biljaka sa velikim listovima, i dugim korjenima koje su putale po tlu. Goleme paučine raszezale su se preko divljeg puteljka. uokolo su rasle smokve, murve, kupine i jabuke koje je dida brao za djecu.
Uskoro su stigli na čistinu uz rijeku. Pa ovo je prava plaža. Ukliknula je Antonia uzbuđeno .Je. Dodao je ivo. Stanimo ovdje veselo he kliktao Jure. Pa mislio sam da če vam se svidjeti tu zaključio je Dide. A sada ručak. Baka je izvadila iz košare manistru na pome u metalne pijate, breskve, jogurt, a kada djeca više nisu mogli pojesti ni zalogaj dodala im je kostime za kupanje.
Djeca su se počeli bučkati u osvežavajućoj vodi rijeke, a kada su nakon ručka baba i dida zaspali na plaži odlučili su istražiti nesmetano dalje. Prošuljali su se kroz grmlje iza plažice i krenuli šetati uz rijeku. Cijelim putem male plave životinjice s krilima su ih obljetale.
to se zove Vilenkonjic. objasnio je Jure. A misliš li ti da ima ovdje vila, pitala je Anotonia. Naravno da nema odvratio je Ivo ozbiljno, one ne postoje. Ali nije to niti izgovorio kada sletiše na njegov nos jedan zeleni vilenkonj.
A što ti misliš zašto se zovemo mi vilen konjic pita ineskt Ivu ljutito.? Od iznenađenja Ivo je posrnuo nogom i pao na zemlju. Ne razbivaj ovo je carstvo naše kraljice vile i nemaš pravo na micanje grana niti listova.Zapovjedi zeleni vilenkonjic. Pa onda nam ti pokaži put. Predložila je Antonija. Put gdje? Ogovori vilenkonjic. U vilino carstvo. Već ste tu kaže vilenkonjic. Samo otovrite oći. Drugi plavi vilenkonjic tada sleti na Antonijin prst. Malo je pogleda, odleti pojede muhu, pa sleti iznova. Ja ću vam bit vodić, kraljica vila silno vas želi upoznati, pratite mene.
Plavi vilenkonjic odletio je naprijed, pa ljevo, pa desno, pa nazad, pa doveo djecu gdje su i počeli pored male plaže, samo što dida i baka više nisu bili tamo. Gdje su baka i dieda ?pita jure. Ah. Pa naravno nevidljivi, odogovori vilenkonjic. Obično ljudi ne vide vile, ve iste ušli u vilinjsko carstvo gdje ih možete vidjeti ali zato nemožete vidjeti ljude niti oni vas. Ali mi smo ljudi odgovori Ivo. Ne kaže vilenkonic. Vi ste djeca a djeca znamo svi mogu vidjeti svašta i putovati kroz sve svjetove. A sada idete se predtaviti kraljicic vili. Vilenkonjic ih je vratio do stabla koje su prošli sa didom, stabo obraslo gljivama. Sletio je na jednu gljivu i puhnuo kroz praznu kućicu od puža koja je kao rog ozvonila šumom.
Ah pa stigli ste viknuo je ženski glas sa visine, a kada su pogledali djeca su vidjeli samo sjeme lipe kako se vrti prema tlu. Mala zelena djevojka, sićušne građe kao vilenkonjic i sa plavim svjetlucavim krilima odskočila je sa sjemenke i skočila na navišu od gljiva. Bu. Kaže ona. Ja sam kraljica vila a vi ste djeca lopovi. Nismo mi lopovi. Odgovori Antonia. A vila joj vrati ako niste vi, tko je jeo voće iz mog carstva bez pitanja ili zahvale. Ako se dobro sječam pojeli ste 10 murva, tri jabuke , dvije smokve i 12 kupina. Zar vi ne shvačate koliko truda mi vile ulažemo da bi nam narasla šuma? Šuma je divlja, svi imaju pravo jesti iz nje, odgovori Ivo, ajmo se kupati. U taj tren vila za žviždi a roj komaraca se stvori nidokud i počme gristi djecu, a oko djece roj osa počme zujati prijetejuće. Ne. Vi ne idete nikamo dok ne odradite kaznu i uložite u prirodu. Vaša kazna je vrtlarenje. Imate posaditi 10 gljiva, deset kupina, deset jabuka, 10 murvi , i 10 smokva, a nakon toga možete se zabavljati. Dobro odgovore djeca ali jeli možete maknuti ove komarce i ose od nas? Pa nemgu oni će stražariti da vi odradite posao a vilenkonjic će vas voditi a sad počmite s gljivama. !
Pa to je zogodno odgovori vilenkonjic jer to bar možemo početi ovdje. Ova vrsta gljive salje svoje spore putem vode, njen klobuk se rastapa kada padne kiša i tom kišom putuju spore koje se posade i naraste nova gljiva. Trebate samo donjeti vode i preliti gljivu. Djeca odmah poskoće do rijeke i sakupe u šakame vode i poćmu prelivati gljive. Ne sve. Naredi vilenkonjic, naša kraljica nemože stajati na mokroj gljivi. Ići čemo dalje umnožiti puharu.
Puhara je velika okrugla spužvasta gljiva koju samo treba dobro gnjećiti ili tresti da joj spore poćmu putovati. Na livadi dalje od rijeke vilenkonic je pkazao gljivu puharu, i tako ih vodio od gldjive od gljive dok nisu posadili 10 vrsta. Sljedeće su posadili sadili kupine,jabuke, smokve, birajući sjemenke iz suhih voćka koje su stavlajli u tlo, pa malo zaljevali.
Kada su završili s vrtlarenjem stvorila se proed njih kraljica vila. Eto djeco sada više niste lopovi. Kada uđete u šumu trebate uvijek prvo pozdraviti sva šumska bića. Kada jedtete šumsko voće morate se zahvaliti šumi, i trebali bi st uvijek posaditi nšto tako da šuma raste dalje i uvijek bude voća za svih. A sada možete pratiti mene voditi ću vas da upoznate neka od bića koja tu žive.
Kraljica vila odljeteljela je izvona do malene plažice i sletljela na granu poviše vode. Pa znam da sigrno volite žabe kaže vila, pogledajte preko vode na onu sivu stijenu tamo živi kralj žabac. I zasita kada su djeca pogledala na stijeu vidjeli su najveću žabu u cijelom životu, kralj žabac bio je veći nego kos koji je sletio na stijenu do njega.
Sada pogledajte u rijeku predloži kraljica vila. Tamo se nalazi zmija na kockice. Te zmije vrlo su hrabre prelaze rijeku i u naj bržim djelovima. Kralj zmija je veliki zmaj ali njega baš je i teško sresti po danu. A nizvodno uz rijeku vidjećete obitelj pataka i male patkice. dok u onoj pećini u brdu žive mali šišmiši, koje često volim jahati .
Eto djeco zakljući vila bilo mi je drago ali sada moram ići. A gdje ideš? pita Antonija. Pa zapravo većeras spremamo bal, i moram nadgledati pauke kako pletu plesne dvorane između stabala i lišća da budu što ljepše. A vi se morate vratiti baki i djedi.
A gdje su oni pita ?Zabrinuto Jure. Oni su još uvjek tu. Vi se malo u rijeci okupate i kada ste spremni vidjeti baku i djedu samo dobro porprskajte vodom po plaži i vidjet če te ih. No prije nego otiđem želim znati što ste naučili o šumi? Pita villa još jedom djecu. Da moramo pozdraviti sva šumska bića, zahvaltit šumi na šumskom voću i posaditi sjemenke koje nađemo da šuma nastaviti rasti. odgovore antonia ivo i jure. Da . A sada do viđenja. Vila zažviždi a dva vilenkonjica se stvore pred njom, ona ih uhvati za rep zažviždi još jednom a vilenkonjici se prenu i nestanu sa kraljicom vilom u šumu.
Eto vidiš da ima vila. Antonia kaže Ivi. Vidim. A ima i zmajeva kaže jure. Ima a ima i vode skrikne ivo i započme prskati brata i sestru, koji mu skrikom odvrate prskajući se vodom , neprimječujući kako su poprsali plažu na kojoj su opet postali vidljivi baka i dide ljudi što ih je probudila iz popodnevnog sna hladna voda cetine.
Djeco djeco dosta vikali su baka i dide. Pa zar ste u vodi svo ovo vrijeme? Pitala je baka i dobila samo tajnoviti osmjeh od djece. Vrijeme je ići kući kaže baka gledajući kasno poppdnevno sunce kako se sprema zaći. A kada su sjeli u brod djeca su vikala. Doviđenja cetina hvala na pustolovini.! i molili su baku i djedu da se što prije vrate.
Kako su se djeca navikla kupati u moru suprostavljali su se ikakvom udaljavanju od njihve najdraže plaže.
Ivo je odmah odgovorio- Ali sigurno nema tamo rakova za loviti. U krivu si odgovori Dide- ima tamo mnogo rakova i to riječnih kakve niste još vidjeli. Ali jako je vruće odgovori mala Antonia kako čemo bez kupanja cijeli dan? Kupati ćete se u rijeci, odgovori baka. I tako Ivo, Antonija, i Jure prihvate putovanje, i sjednu u Didov veliki stari auto koji je uvjek mirisao po travama, zemlji i avanturama.
Ivo je odmah pronašao frulu koju je dide napravio od grane i počeo svirati dok su druga djeca i baka poklapljai uši rukama.
Evo nas djeco stigli smo u grad Omiš najavio je Dide. Ovaj grad nekoć bio je grad opasnih gusara, imao je i kralja gusara. A princezu gusara takošer jei tako dide?Cvrkutala je Antonia. Da imali su i gusarsku princezu i kraljicu . A jesu li živjeli na onom dvorcu na brdu? Prstom je pokazivao Jure poviše krovova grada. Da odgovori baka . Idemo li istraživati? Pitao je Ivo. Drugi put, odgovorio je odlučno djeda, sada idemo bordom po rijeci Cetini i kroz onaj veliki kanjon koji vidite .
Baka dida i djeca ukrcali su se u narančasti drveni brod pun ljudi i brod se odgurnuo od obalu grada Omiša i krenuo uzvodno uz rijeku. Brod je prošao kroz dvije goleme stijene koje su izlegale kao drevna vrata nekog čarobnng mjesta, zatim još dvije visoke stijene koje su bacale sjenu na rijeku. Nije to bila baš neka dosadna rijeka kava su djeca očekivala , Cetina izlegala je kao da skriva svakakve tajne. Rijeka je bila puna života .Putjući vidjeli su planine , patke, druge brodove, ribe pa čak i labudove i jako mnogo šaša u kojem su se skrivale životinje kakave su stvarlae svakakve svukove.
Brod se zaustavio pored staroga mlina. Ovdje čemo ručati kazao je dida. Neee vrištala su djeca. Pa tek smo stigli! Pa dobro odgovori dida malo ćemo prošetati prvo, i povede provrku veslee djece u šetnjicu uz obalu rijeke.
Uz rijeku rasla je prava džungla. Djeca us se morala provlćiti kroz grane kao pravi istraživaći . Bilo je biljaka sa velikim listovima, i dugim korjenima koje su putale po tlu. Goleme paučine raszezale su se preko divljeg puteljka. uokolo su rasle smokve, murve, kupine i jabuke koje je dida brao za djecu.
Uskoro su stigli na čistinu uz rijeku. Pa ovo je prava plaža. Ukliknula je Antonia uzbuđeno .Je. Dodao je ivo. Stanimo ovdje veselo he kliktao Jure. Pa mislio sam da če vam se svidjeti tu zaključio je Dide. A sada ručak. Baka je izvadila iz košare manistru na pome u metalne pijate, breskve, jogurt, a kada djeca više nisu mogli pojesti ni zalogaj dodala im je kostime za kupanje.
Djeca su se počeli bučkati u osvežavajućoj vodi rijeke, a kada su nakon ručka baba i dida zaspali na plaži odlučili su istražiti nesmetano dalje. Prošuljali su se kroz grmlje iza plažice i krenuli šetati uz rijeku. Cijelim putem male plave životinjice s krilima su ih obljetale.
to se zove Vilenkonjic. objasnio je Jure. A misliš li ti da ima ovdje vila, pitala je Anotonia. Naravno da nema odvratio je Ivo ozbiljno, one ne postoje. Ali nije to niti izgovorio kada sletiše na njegov nos jedan zeleni vilenkonj.
A što ti misliš zašto se zovemo mi vilen konjic pita ineskt Ivu ljutito.? Od iznenađenja Ivo je posrnuo nogom i pao na zemlju. Ne razbivaj ovo je carstvo naše kraljice vile i nemaš pravo na micanje grana niti listova.Zapovjedi zeleni vilenkonjic. Pa onda nam ti pokaži put. Predložila je Antonija. Put gdje? Ogovori vilenkonjic. U vilino carstvo. Već ste tu kaže vilenkonjic. Samo otovrite oći. Drugi plavi vilenkonjic tada sleti na Antonijin prst. Malo je pogleda, odleti pojede muhu, pa sleti iznova. Ja ću vam bit vodić, kraljica vila silno vas želi upoznati, pratite mene.
Plavi vilenkonjic odletio je naprijed, pa ljevo, pa desno, pa nazad, pa doveo djecu gdje su i počeli pored male plaže, samo što dida i baka više nisu bili tamo. Gdje su baka i dieda ?pita jure. Ah. Pa naravno nevidljivi, odogovori vilenkonjic. Obično ljudi ne vide vile, ve iste ušli u vilinjsko carstvo gdje ih možete vidjeti ali zato nemožete vidjeti ljude niti oni vas. Ali mi smo ljudi odgovori Ivo. Ne kaže vilenkonic. Vi ste djeca a djeca znamo svi mogu vidjeti svašta i putovati kroz sve svjetove. A sada idete se predtaviti kraljicic vili. Vilenkonjic ih je vratio do stabla koje su prošli sa didom, stabo obraslo gljivama. Sletio je na jednu gljivu i puhnuo kroz praznu kućicu od puža koja je kao rog ozvonila šumom.
Ah pa stigli ste viknuo je ženski glas sa visine, a kada su pogledali djeca su vidjeli samo sjeme lipe kako se vrti prema tlu. Mala zelena djevojka, sićušne građe kao vilenkonjic i sa plavim svjetlucavim krilima odskočila je sa sjemenke i skočila na navišu od gljiva. Bu. Kaže ona. Ja sam kraljica vila a vi ste djeca lopovi. Nismo mi lopovi. Odgovori Antonia. A vila joj vrati ako niste vi, tko je jeo voće iz mog carstva bez pitanja ili zahvale. Ako se dobro sječam pojeli ste 10 murva, tri jabuke , dvije smokve i 12 kupina. Zar vi ne shvačate koliko truda mi vile ulažemo da bi nam narasla šuma? Šuma je divlja, svi imaju pravo jesti iz nje, odgovori Ivo, ajmo se kupati. U taj tren vila za žviždi a roj komaraca se stvori nidokud i počme gristi djecu, a oko djece roj osa počme zujati prijetejuće. Ne. Vi ne idete nikamo dok ne odradite kaznu i uložite u prirodu. Vaša kazna je vrtlarenje. Imate posaditi 10 gljiva, deset kupina, deset jabuka, 10 murvi , i 10 smokva, a nakon toga možete se zabavljati. Dobro odgovore djeca ali jeli možete maknuti ove komarce i ose od nas? Pa nemgu oni će stražariti da vi odradite posao a vilenkonjic će vas voditi a sad počmite s gljivama. !
Pa to je zogodno odgovori vilenkonjic jer to bar možemo početi ovdje. Ova vrsta gljive salje svoje spore putem vode, njen klobuk se rastapa kada padne kiša i tom kišom putuju spore koje se posade i naraste nova gljiva. Trebate samo donjeti vode i preliti gljivu. Djeca odmah poskoće do rijeke i sakupe u šakame vode i poćmu prelivati gljive. Ne sve. Naredi vilenkonjic, naša kraljica nemože stajati na mokroj gljivi. Ići čemo dalje umnožiti puharu.
Puhara je velika okrugla spužvasta gljiva koju samo treba dobro gnjećiti ili tresti da joj spore poćmu putovati. Na livadi dalje od rijeke vilenkonic je pkazao gljivu puharu, i tako ih vodio od gldjive od gljive dok nisu posadili 10 vrsta. Sljedeće su posadili sadili kupine,jabuke, smokve, birajući sjemenke iz suhih voćka koje su stavlajli u tlo, pa malo zaljevali.
Kada su završili s vrtlarenjem stvorila se proed njih kraljica vila. Eto djeco sada više niste lopovi. Kada uđete u šumu trebate uvijek prvo pozdraviti sva šumska bića. Kada jedtete šumsko voće morate se zahvaliti šumi, i trebali bi st uvijek posaditi nšto tako da šuma raste dalje i uvijek bude voća za svih. A sada možete pratiti mene voditi ću vas da upoznate neka od bića koja tu žive.
Kraljica vila odljeteljela je izvona do malene plažice i sletljela na granu poviše vode. Pa znam da sigrno volite žabe kaže vila, pogledajte preko vode na onu sivu stijenu tamo živi kralj žabac. I zasita kada su djeca pogledala na stijeu vidjeli su najveću žabu u cijelom životu, kralj žabac bio je veći nego kos koji je sletio na stijenu do njega.
Sada pogledajte u rijeku predloži kraljica vila. Tamo se nalazi zmija na kockice. Te zmije vrlo su hrabre prelaze rijeku i u naj bržim djelovima. Kralj zmija je veliki zmaj ali njega baš je i teško sresti po danu. A nizvodno uz rijeku vidjećete obitelj pataka i male patkice. dok u onoj pećini u brdu žive mali šišmiši, koje često volim jahati .
Eto djeco zakljući vila bilo mi je drago ali sada moram ići. A gdje ideš? pita Antonija. Pa zapravo većeras spremamo bal, i moram nadgledati pauke kako pletu plesne dvorane između stabala i lišća da budu što ljepše. A vi se morate vratiti baki i djedi.
A gdje su oni pita ?Zabrinuto Jure. Oni su još uvjek tu. Vi se malo u rijeci okupate i kada ste spremni vidjeti baku i djedu samo dobro porprskajte vodom po plaži i vidjet če te ih. No prije nego otiđem želim znati što ste naučili o šumi? Pita villa još jedom djecu. Da moramo pozdraviti sva šumska bića, zahvaltit šumi na šumskom voću i posaditi sjemenke koje nađemo da šuma nastaviti rasti. odgovore antonia ivo i jure. Da . A sada do viđenja. Vila zažviždi a dva vilenkonjica se stvore pred njom, ona ih uhvati za rep zažviždi još jednom a vilenkonjici se prenu i nestanu sa kraljicom vilom u šumu.
Eto vidiš da ima vila. Antonia kaže Ivi. Vidim. A ima i zmajeva kaže jure. Ima a ima i vode skrikne ivo i započme prskati brata i sestru, koji mu skrikom odvrate prskajući se vodom , neprimječujući kako su poprsali plažu na kojoj su opet postali vidljivi baka i dide ljudi što ih je probudila iz popodnevnog sna hladna voda cetine.
Djeco djeco dosta vikali su baka i dide. Pa zar ste u vodi svo ovo vrijeme? Pitala je baka i dobila samo tajnoviti osmjeh od djece. Vrijeme je ići kući kaže baka gledajući kasno poppdnevno sunce kako se sprema zaći. A kada su sjeli u brod djeca su vikala. Doviđenja cetina hvala na pustolovini.! i molili su baku i djedu da se što prije vrate.
Thursday 11 October 2012
The wedding list
Begging with the shortfalls of the memory which had wiped out entire existences of people who have not been around of recent, but where so dear in the past, one should definitely have them present on the big day, yet cant remember who they are.
The question than is how far in history ought one go? The first friend I had ever befriended at kinder garden, but do not actually socialise with, to ask or not to? Same predicament applies to companions at little school and high school, university, all the chapter titles of ones life according to change of address, work, and so on.
The problem of family is least of all a pleasant one promising plenty of nasty consequences should one wrong foot it. There are great large and extended numbers of them most obnoxiousley expectant of an invitation but not actually deserving of one, relying on the binding to the code of tradition, despite their shortcomings and various outbursts of outrageous nemicity in which they managed to shatter the loved relatives illusion they had up kept the whole time one was not acquainted with them thoroughly because of living abroad.
Jolly new friends are next up to scrutiny for as they are present right now in one's life, of recently met, proved to plenty of mirth, will they remain so for long one never knows, for with the various moves, history has proven that not all of the many friendships survive decades, and I suppose those golden nuggets who stick are the kind one wants to celebrate with.
Than there is the quandary of the workplace. How far ought one stretch the invitations. To only the dearest colleagues? The proper course to pursue in these territories is the obligatory invitation of the boss, to the wedding. How one can relax at one's wedding masticating a leg of lamb, whilst the wee man who has been buggering one for months watches from a corner greasing his face, instead of boulling a skull of lamb at his cranium and knocking him bullseye out once and for all to the celebratory splats of the roasted sheep's eyes popping out at contact, is still amongst the unresolved mysteries I have to face.
This leaves us not even nearly finished for the next set of invitees to consider are the friends of one's parents and siblings, all of the above applying to them too.
However long evading the predicament there are also exes to consider, who where essential to the personality formation and survival of youth and have metampohorised into dear friends but but come with a unfortunate and sizzling stigma of being the ex, potentially disturbing for the future spouse and may well insinuate nasty gossip in the ranks.
Having perspired to scribble a rough list one politely presents it to the future husband and requests to see the one he composed. His of course is tidy lacking crossings out, and is based upon a neat chronological friendship system. The top of his hierarchy of friends sums up the people he befriended as a toddler and from which he has chosen his best man, down the hierarchy are the companions he befriended in his teens whilst the properly scrutinised before inviting in his social spectrum are the most recently met. The system is used by the entire male populace of the country and based on the logic that even if as a child one chose friends who now appear dull , one knows them so thoroughly well that one can predict every move they will make and thus can depend on him more than on any newcomer who can put up a surprise when least appreciated. This type of male bond frustrating to the female who collects new friendships throughout out the lifetime according to merit, fun, intelligence unfortunately for her promises fustratinlgey dull social encounters until death. The only unexpected part of the groom's wedding list are certain must come guests required by the in laws who guarantee an explosive and scandalous hell's fire encounters with must come guests on the bride's list.
How to glue these particulars to form a decent congregation or table plan whiteout putting anyone out of place, whilst including the language, and spatial restrictions which do present the unfortunate doors to the loos, vital to the party yet internationally understood as the pits, rendering anyone seated near them to being automatically offended and wishing they had not bothered, that is whiteout seating self next to the toilets at own wedding?
The lists combined produce a textured social colage, of ages, nationalites, ocupations, proving yet another minefield when trying to concieve a musical menu. What music can be suitable for the turbo folk Balkan wedding music lovers, dalmatian acapello listners, classical music fans, house music addicts, rock and charleston, lovers and well the bride and the groom of who everyone expects to dance a waltz, and who within the couple have completely different music preferences and two left legs? The same goes for the food. The local way of serving it commes loaded on to great platters of 7-9 courses which often cause duels at the table among the greedier types and will leave the timid eater simpering. Apart from this the menu is culturally set, any diversion from the soup, French salad, pršut, cheese,fatty lamb on the spit, cooked veal, marinated veal,black cuttle fish risotto, white risotto, and cakes will cause dissatisfaction and vindictive commentary from the vexed local crowd, while as yet the set menu may freak out some of internationals.
Right. This is the point one starts rewriting the wedding list once again trying to decrease the numbers, alas instead finding other forgotten human treasures and adding them to the list with intention of diluting any bad feng shui. After several attempts one retraces steps back to the wedding location for a coffee to help visualise the seating potentials, yet suddenly faces a lack of capacity to host such a festering number.
Consequentially the bride traumatises the groom off insisting they haunt the hotels and restaurants in the region yet again, she feeling her hands tied with his ball and chain of logical insistence on places in town, which have experience of wedding affairs and not the romantic castles one would have to oversee the orchestration of all sorts of catering and flowers on the day instead of starting the drinking and eating worry free to the brawl of the accordion and guitars in the moring as the tradition states.
Both exhausted, she having had to melodramatise how she will have to kill her self if they had to have her wedding at that place his parents think is really wonderful and she noticed the seamstress did not even know how to sow the bloody chair covers and resolved to knot the shiny fabric in a poof around the chair,he with a mouth dry from smoking after each viewing and her comments. Resolve its best to have the wedding where it was planned originally.
So here we are yet agian, trying to compose yet another more suitable wedding list.
Monday 24 September 2012
Ending the island
The best aspect of ending is the little adrenalin of what may be and what is to come when this familiar sequence of rituals and routines ends. What a thrill.
Strange joy is provided by the arrival of a certain Hamletian stalemate. To do or not to do, what do do, options are so wast and can be absolutely irrational and this is the reason for the thrill.
Been so long standing and squawking with trimmed wings which suddenly have whiteout announcement grown out, to their full length without anyone around being aware. To go Belgrade, or Spain or London or Berlin or Zagreb or Mexico or anywhere but this island, away from this island of the eternal summer.Repeated squawking of history in every language possible at a press of a button, like a plastic toy with plastic buttons for eyes. Have paid debt to the rational secure needs of mothers and now will finally shackle free leave slave ship, rowing in sameness week in week out.
The days are passing now illuminated by sun and reflections of the sea passing trough clouds. Autumn is coming. God bless the rains. The storms. Even the sun is fresh again some how, palm and olive and cypress trees are head banging in joy. Yes the end of summer.
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Strange joy is provided by the arrival of a certain Hamletian stalemate. To do or not to do, what do do, options are so wast and can be absolutely irrational and this is the reason for the thrill.
Been so long standing and squawking with trimmed wings which suddenly have whiteout announcement grown out, to their full length without anyone around being aware. To go Belgrade, or Spain or London or Berlin or Zagreb or Mexico or anywhere but this island, away from this island of the eternal summer.Repeated squawking of history in every language possible at a press of a button, like a plastic toy with plastic buttons for eyes. Have paid debt to the rational secure needs of mothers and now will finally shackle free leave slave ship, rowing in sameness week in week out.
The days are passing now illuminated by sun and reflections of the sea passing trough clouds. Autumn is coming. God bless the rains. The storms. Even the sun is fresh again some how, palm and olive and cypress trees are head banging in joy. Yes the end of summer.
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Saturday 22 September 2012
Sunday 16 September 2012
the siren
I arrived at dark,
having tuned into the piano sounds at the garden I followed them into the building. Territorial glances belonging to people speaking seuly in German, passed my body, of whom none responded to my offers of a greeting. To set the scene the hotel was dimly lit as if by David Lynch, the darkness was broken only by a yellow light of desk lamp in a glass cabin, and a room at the far end of the lobby in which ball shaped lights metamorphosed from green to red to pink and blue to the rytham of the what obviously was the heart of the Siren, as was the name of the hotel.
The synthesizer fairy was playing the grand piano in the hotel lobby. Behind her in a small amphitheater of chairs sat people of all races, clothing inspirations and numbly absorbed her music as if enchanted. I touched her shoulder just as she felt my gaze and turned to embrace me, she gave me to drink from her glass of cranberry votka and continued to play.
Laura Wilder plays music which has the effect of the flautist on the mice and children in that old brothers grim story. Her piano music guides the listeners into a trance and a long journey of stories which she tells trough music constantly changing, flowing further, never repeating it self. She tells stories of the astral bodies, and of people and dogs around her, or she uses it with a purpose and plan as of how to affect people around her.
The amfihtheatre had over filled. People where appearing from dark craks and rooms and staircases to be near her, listen to her, and than in one moment she dropped her votka cranberry on the floor and shut the piano and re opened it. Instantley everyone snapped out of their rapture and walked away.
" You made them leave" I noted. " That was my intention" She replied. " Let me show you the Siren"
The music has been on for 3 weeks every day all day, the bass going trough me. It became too much. Aaaaah. She snapped her fingers around here ears. The bam bam bam of the base. One night I slept on the balcony to avoid the music. One night I decided to sleep on the bass amplifier so I get over it with it. I bring the people down. When the techno got too much I made everyone go to sleep with the piano. And than we voted for a music free day. You should see the DJs they dont know what to do with themselves when they are not playing its funny. But than I also miss the music. It was the silent day yesterday. I cant wait to dance. Let me show you the hotel.
I still did not understand what was going on in the siren but walking around of what must have been a trendy hotel in the 80s, and had somehow become a miniature Berlin i started to form a story.
The octopus synthesizer fairy came riding a wave or rather a van full of Berlin DJ tribe. They rented the hotel, hang plastic bottle flowers, fir cone decoration threw memorizing light patterns on to the surrounding trees, and connected lights which changed color in rythm of the music. Food and drinks where sold by themselves to them self. The DJ decks where in the dining room and the pool balcony and a room at top the hotel with the largest balcony. The hotel it self named the mermaid lie on the furthest bay away from Hvar city going west. I suddenly recognized the bay above which it stood as being the one to which police had brought my self and Gaffney years ago when we had camped illegally, I had never managed to figure out where it was until this night.
.. to be continued.. She took me trough and out of the hotel telling me of the soul journey she had passed during preceding days and her attempt to sleep on the mountain across the bay alone, not noticing perhaps how we where walking together now, barefoot towards the same mountain . We sat down on the cold stone next to a small port and the fairy told me of her adventures. Every word was a companied by the jingles of many bronze talismans. Her words where excited. Fingers flying about and surrounded by some blue light. Describing her own and friends misadventures of different substances with which they explored and tuned into the invisible world, in which nor love nor the sea felt as thez usualz do. They where exciting and lonley and full of people.. It seemed they where all stuck to the siren however and could not leave, most of them missing planes, buses, living in this warped little world sepertate to the reality of the island on which it stood. Her firends had seen deamons. She did not exclaimed the fairy she only saw the beauty. But she managed to speak to her body parts when they got cold or tired and heal them thus.
When all the stories where let out and our skin was covered with goosebumps we ran inside to dance.
I was glad in a way i had come in the last day of the strange hotel. The air was seductive, the dance ,the idea of the spiritual guest and talking to trees, but when emerged to the electirc bright light one by one the people seemed more and more like zombies. Chilldren on strange concoctions. Somewhw the synthesiser fairy did not belong in that, as one. She was so warm, her music so enchanting.
The synthesizer fairy was playing the grand piano in the hotel lobby. Behind her in a small amphitheater of chairs sat people of all races, clothing inspirations and numbly absorbed her music as if enchanted. I touched her shoulder just as she felt my gaze and turned to embrace me, she gave me to drink from her glass of cranberry votka and continued to play.
Laura Wilder plays music which has the effect of the flautist on the mice and children in that old brothers grim story. Her piano music guides the listeners into a trance and a long journey of stories which she tells trough music constantly changing, flowing further, never repeating it self. She tells stories of the astral bodies, and of people and dogs around her, or she uses it with a purpose and plan as of how to affect people around her.
The amfihtheatre had over filled. People where appearing from dark craks and rooms and staircases to be near her, listen to her, and than in one moment she dropped her votka cranberry on the floor and shut the piano and re opened it. Instantley everyone snapped out of their rapture and walked away.
" You made them leave" I noted. " That was my intention" She replied. " Let me show you the Siren"
The music has been on for 3 weeks every day all day, the bass going trough me. It became too much. Aaaaah. She snapped her fingers around here ears. The bam bam bam of the base. One night I slept on the balcony to avoid the music. One night I decided to sleep on the bass amplifier so I get over it with it. I bring the people down. When the techno got too much I made everyone go to sleep with the piano. And than we voted for a music free day. You should see the DJs they dont know what to do with themselves when they are not playing its funny. But than I also miss the music. It was the silent day yesterday. I cant wait to dance. Let me show you the hotel.
I still did not understand what was going on in the siren but walking around of what must have been a trendy hotel in the 80s, and had somehow become a miniature Berlin i started to form a story.
The octopus synthesizer fairy came riding a wave or rather a van full of Berlin DJ tribe. They rented the hotel, hang plastic bottle flowers, fir cone decoration threw memorizing light patterns on to the surrounding trees, and connected lights which changed color in rythm of the music. Food and drinks where sold by themselves to them self. The DJ decks where in the dining room and the pool balcony and a room at top the hotel with the largest balcony. The hotel it self named the mermaid lie on the furthest bay away from Hvar city going west. I suddenly recognized the bay above which it stood as being the one to which police had brought my self and Gaffney years ago when we had camped illegally, I had never managed to figure out where it was until this night.
.. to be continued.. She took me trough and out of the hotel telling me of the soul journey she had passed during preceding days and her attempt to sleep on the mountain across the bay alone, not noticing perhaps how we where walking together now, barefoot towards the same mountain . We sat down on the cold stone next to a small port and the fairy told me of her adventures. Every word was a companied by the jingles of many bronze talismans. Her words where excited. Fingers flying about and surrounded by some blue light. Describing her own and friends misadventures of different substances with which they explored and tuned into the invisible world, in which nor love nor the sea felt as thez usualz do. They where exciting and lonley and full of people.. It seemed they where all stuck to the siren however and could not leave, most of them missing planes, buses, living in this warped little world sepertate to the reality of the island on which it stood. Her firends had seen deamons. She did not exclaimed the fairy she only saw the beauty. But she managed to speak to her body parts when they got cold or tired and heal them thus.
When all the stories where let out and our skin was covered with goosebumps we ran inside to dance.
I was glad in a way i had come in the last day of the strange hotel. The air was seductive, the dance ,the idea of the spiritual guest and talking to trees, but when emerged to the electirc bright light one by one the people seemed more and more like zombies. Chilldren on strange concoctions. Somewhw the synthesiser fairy did not belong in that, as one. She was so warm, her music so enchanting.
Friday 14 September 2012
The fairy who playes the synthesizer
Millions of little round suckers stuck to my skin and pulled me in. Heads of decapitated revolutionaries followed me with their eyes. Queen octopus sat at the piano smiling vaguely at her story having tangled me in to her jelly fish hair and tentacles, pulling the fresh game to her black and white alter.
And this is how I met the fairy who plays the synthesiser. Within my own exhibition, one summer midnight. She had seen the piano from afar and barnacled herself on to it.
Wednesday 8 August 2012
Trip tips, River.
lush gold green liquid freshness of river cetina is as perfect as lots of ice in a coca cola. Every time i go i am re generated. The eyes fill with mryards of green shades of jungle. The rafting trough a wild amazon type of river with canyons, snakes, white water and very smooth mythological water life . Cetinas and rafting on Cetina is certanley the most fun and beautiful thing i can recommend to any one staying in HVar, BRac, Split, Makarska. ANd if you taker a bunch of people you know to go rafting with you it becomes all the better and social. Just do it. After rafting lunch in the gardens of Radmans mills.. Frogs, fish on the menu, home fire baked bread.. And to top if off i had a dragon fly sit eating lunch on my finger for 20 minutes today..
Saturday 21 July 2012
Love being Tourist.. Trip tips to the island Hvar- History BC
40000 BC Life from of some sort of humanoids on the island can be traced back to Milena's ago as far as prehistory and back 40 000 years.
4000 BC Neolithic than marks its self on Hvar in the form of 6000 year old terracotta remains and design which is specific to Hvar and mainland near the town of Sibenik, and has thus gained name the HVAR DANILO culture. (A contemporary writer has researched the theme and in his book proposes how that culture used to be into adoration of a mother goddess with enormous breasts and hips with a philosophy of living with no violence and living only for pleasure, making love and dancing.)
2000 BC New warrior tribes named Ilirians take over the lands which now form Croatia of which one of the tribes where the ARDIYEYCI after whom the Adriatic Sea has been named.
7000-400BC During the last millennium Before Christ the Greeks had developed a fine culture, surpassed their neighbours in terms of technology and often dared to travel and investigate the Adriatic Sea. To them the Adriatic was a frightful wast expanse of land and sea populated by incomprehensible barbarians.
Many of the adventures later descirbed by Homer in The ODYSSEY in fact are assumed to be adventures encountered in the Adriatic, Archaeologists indeed theorise that in fact THE CYCLOPS one eyed giant must have come from Hvar island. Homer Describes how the Greeks landed on an island where they encountered a one eyed giant living in a cave. In the south of the island _Hvar there is a Cave named GRAPČEVA ŠPILJA around which a race of people 2.5 meter in height where found buried. At the time of the encounter with the gints the Greeks where smaller in height and even today 2.5 meters is enormous and beyond normal height . The geographic descriptions as to the location of this giants cave also appears to place Cyclops on Hvar.
400 BC A Greek tyrant and warrior called Dinosos the elder managed to conquer Syracuse and take Sisely. He makes his base there and than heads forth on to the Adriatic with intent to stay. Dynosus concurs the island south of HVar and now called VIS, deriving from the original name Dynosus gave his new colony ISSA. Dynosus invites all Greeks to than colonise the Adriatic assuring his assistance in defending any new colonies fromed.
On his invitation colonists from Pharos back in Greece, 388BC land on the island Hvar, in a enormous natural bay perfect for protecting their ships on the north of the island, surrounded by very fertile lands, they built a town and apply the Greek land division method to share the new found land. The new colony they name PHAROS.
Pharos is surrounded by and co-exists on the same island with the original Illirian population with who the plenty of un wanted encounters with the nation of pirates.
A century and half after the colony was the New colony a Greek Named Demetrius is born who fights the troublesome Ilirians and gains hims self the honour of leading the colony Pharos, with support of the neighbouring Romans who where themselves in the process of expanse..
Demetrius however switches policies and looses the Romans friendship by marrying the Queen and Wife of dead ilirian King Aragon and so comes to be ruler and king of a large territory encompassing islands in the north Adriatic, and wast inland territories , to the south with a large navy and ambitions to expand. .
Demitrious having taken ower some roman territories however was stopped in his tracks by the Romans who fearing Demetriouses ambition attacked PHAROS, and after a large battle at sea which produced many casualties, and during whixh they took thoussands of slaves, slaves, the Romans destroyed Pharos City walls as a lesson and than took ower Dimitriuses Territories on the Adriatic and so began a Roman invasion and the over taking if what are now Croatian territories, which eventualy and after many bloodey battles with aborigine peoples became Roman privinces until Roman empire fell in the 7th century AD.
Tuesday 17 July 2012
Love being Tourist.. Trip tips on the island Hvar- Exploring
LAVENDER EXPLAINED
The island of Hvar is known for its lavender . About a 100 years ago a disease had torn up the vineyards and destroyed the production of vine upon which the islanders where depend and to survive. Many islanders emigrated to the New World, whilst those who stayed began to plant lavender flower and produce lavender oil selling it to french perfume houses and so on. The lavender flower thus afforded the inhabitants to survive and there has become a simbole of life to the islanders. One of the best gifts to take from the island must be the lavender oil which is pure and can be used in the bath, on skin, as a hair maske together with olive oil, in the oil burner and for many medicinal purposes, and the brilliant thing is it costs so little in comparison to its price abroad. Also its scent is rather different from the the English lavander, the sun making it much more potent and strong as opposed to granny.
HIKING BIKING Hvar is a very long island covet with hills of which many have been planted with lavender flower. Most family's own lavender fields. It is fascinating to take the bus or bikes or even hike trough the lavender fields.
The panorama from the Hvar hills is phenomenal and looks upon all the surrounding islands for miles. Another fascinating sight are millions and millions of hand placed wall heaps which form mazes on the hills and look as if they have been constructed by aliens or Aztecs or other such mysterious beings other than simple farmers who in fact piled tones and tones of stones in a very geometric pattern across all of the islands hills.
GHOST TOWNS In Hvar hills there are many mostly abandoned towns which are perfect and full of beautiful stone houses, abut entirely empty alike the town VELO GRABLJE. The towns are property of families who have moved out to Hvar Town ,and are used only to cook up moon-shine or to visit during certain festivals and religious days. Often they posses some sort of vine canteen where one may replenish some strength. But the towns are fascinating to explore. And VELO GRABLJE for example along it has a wonderful biking-hiking down hill route, which cuts trough nature and than towards the sea to the sea town MILNA where on can choose a creek to enjoy to themselves.
DRIVE TROUGH TOSCANY The north part of the island above the towns JELSA and STARI GRAD are very green and lush and covered with vineyards. The whole region looks like Tuscany and is very beautiful.. I certainly recommend renting a scooter of convertible car and driving trough than having lunch in the fresher mountaines or villages above the vine farming town of SVIRČE..
THE CREEKS In evey island port there are people renting out small boats which can be hired with a tiny motor without a licence... Or a speed boat or a sailing boat can be hired together with a skipper. The island is rich with wonderful creeks and bays, clean seas, and sometimes bays full of deers incredibly. Taking a boat is the best way to explore beautiful bays, going for a swim, and very often in the middle of no where you will arrive at some cute hap hap-hazard restaurant at sea to replenish energies.
The island of Hvar is known for its lavender . About a 100 years ago a disease had torn up the vineyards and destroyed the production of vine upon which the islanders where depend and to survive. Many islanders emigrated to the New World, whilst those who stayed began to plant lavender flower and produce lavender oil selling it to french perfume houses and so on. The lavender flower thus afforded the inhabitants to survive and there has become a simbole of life to the islanders. One of the best gifts to take from the island must be the lavender oil which is pure and can be used in the bath, on skin, as a hair maske together with olive oil, in the oil burner and for many medicinal purposes, and the brilliant thing is it costs so little in comparison to its price abroad. Also its scent is rather different from the the English lavander, the sun making it much more potent and strong as opposed to granny.
HIKING BIKING Hvar is a very long island covet with hills of which many have been planted with lavender flower. Most family's own lavender fields. It is fascinating to take the bus or bikes or even hike trough the lavender fields.
The panorama from the Hvar hills is phenomenal and looks upon all the surrounding islands for miles. Another fascinating sight are millions and millions of hand placed wall heaps which form mazes on the hills and look as if they have been constructed by aliens or Aztecs or other such mysterious beings other than simple farmers who in fact piled tones and tones of stones in a very geometric pattern across all of the islands hills.
GHOST TOWNS In Hvar hills there are many mostly abandoned towns which are perfect and full of beautiful stone houses, abut entirely empty alike the town VELO GRABLJE. The towns are property of families who have moved out to Hvar Town ,and are used only to cook up moon-shine or to visit during certain festivals and religious days. Often they posses some sort of vine canteen where one may replenish some strength. But the towns are fascinating to explore. And VELO GRABLJE for example along it has a wonderful biking-hiking down hill route, which cuts trough nature and than towards the sea to the sea town MILNA where on can choose a creek to enjoy to themselves.
DRIVE TROUGH TOSCANY The north part of the island above the towns JELSA and STARI GRAD are very green and lush and covered with vineyards. The whole region looks like Tuscany and is very beautiful.. I certainly recommend renting a scooter of convertible car and driving trough than having lunch in the fresher mountaines or villages above the vine farming town of SVIRČE..
THE CREEKS In evey island port there are people renting out small boats which can be hired with a tiny motor without a licence... Or a speed boat or a sailing boat can be hired together with a skipper. The island is rich with wonderful creeks and bays, clean seas, and sometimes bays full of deers incredibly. Taking a boat is the best way to explore beautiful bays, going for a swim, and very often in the middle of no where you will arrive at some cute hap hap-hazard restaurant at sea to replenish energies.
Love being Tourist.. Trip tips on the island Hvar- Reading on Vacation
On Vacation one reads.
Or pretends to read.
I was staying once at the Meneghello Family estate on the island Palmizana next to Hvar where a Serbian Cartoon publicist Srdan rented a villa in the garden.
He was set on seducing me. I really was not attracted to him, but enjoyed little breaks away from painting. The publicist stalked me appearing out of the bush where ever I would walk. I would see him in the restaurant having a meal and as I would walk past the restaurant walls and descend to the beach 10 meters further ,he would already be at the beach ,reclined on towel, reading a book, which he would drop as if it was hot on seeing me and pounce up to pester with chit chat.
During our encounters he would always talk about the books he was reading and proceed to sum them up. All of this books where of the same New age books about how to be a better person with titles of such as Zen of every day life, and living Yin and yang.
When he left seven days later and had hassled me out of my wits end. The Bosnian(bosnian men are famous for not liking to read) Mario who worked at the restourant's barbecue roasting fish came up to me and said: I'm so glad Srdan has left, I'm exhausted. You know he paid me 100 Euros per book, to read it at night after work, than give him a summery of the book in the morning, so that he could impress you...
In town there are a lot of hot English boys reading books on lone rocks, and lots of English girls reading books in their bikinis on the deck chairs...
HVAR Town possesses one of the most amazing Libraries in Croatia.. It is set in a old beautiful venetian town's house which is falling apart and at the door states" enter at own risk". The library has Internet and charges little for it. And 9 rooms full of books tip to toe, with overloaded shelf's. On all subjects under the sun both from old classical writers and new alike.. The library also has books in many languages including English, German, Italian ,French, Spanish's, Russian and many more and it is selling read books to raise money for its repairs. The library is also a small cultural exchange for you may met interesting people in it, be informed of cultural events and may even just come over to play chess.
I was staying once at the Meneghello Family estate on the island Palmizana next to Hvar where a Serbian Cartoon publicist Srdan rented a villa in the garden.
He was set on seducing me. I really was not attracted to him, but enjoyed little breaks away from painting. The publicist stalked me appearing out of the bush where ever I would walk. I would see him in the restaurant having a meal and as I would walk past the restaurant walls and descend to the beach 10 meters further ,he would already be at the beach ,reclined on towel, reading a book, which he would drop as if it was hot on seeing me and pounce up to pester with chit chat.
During our encounters he would always talk about the books he was reading and proceed to sum them up. All of this books where of the same New age books about how to be a better person with titles of such as Zen of every day life, and living Yin and yang.
When he left seven days later and had hassled me out of my wits end. The Bosnian(bosnian men are famous for not liking to read) Mario who worked at the restourant's barbecue roasting fish came up to me and said: I'm so glad Srdan has left, I'm exhausted. You know he paid me 100 Euros per book, to read it at night after work, than give him a summery of the book in the morning, so that he could impress you...
In town there are a lot of hot English boys reading books on lone rocks, and lots of English girls reading books in their bikinis on the deck chairs...
HVAR Town possesses one of the most amazing Libraries in Croatia.. It is set in a old beautiful venetian town's house which is falling apart and at the door states" enter at own risk". The library has Internet and charges little for it. And 9 rooms full of books tip to toe, with overloaded shelf's. On all subjects under the sun both from old classical writers and new alike.. The library also has books in many languages including English, German, Italian ,French, Spanish's, Russian and many more and it is selling read books to raise money for its repairs. The library is also a small cultural exchange for you may met interesting people in it, be informed of cultural events and may even just come over to play chess.
Love being Tourist.. Trip tips on the island Hvar- In Vino Veritas
The island of Hvar produces some of the best vine in the region.
The southern parts of the island are planted with vineyard of the grape Plavac Mali ,a small sweet red-blue grape and this produces the strongest flavoured rich red vine. The north of the island has many plantations of the Plavac, large red grape which produces lighter vine alike chianti. And there is a Hvar white named Bogdanuša.
My favourite vine is the zlatan plavac barrique produced By the PLANČIĆ Family who also have a under sea cellar in SVETA NEDJELJA small town in the southern east part of the island open for vine tasting and food.
Antoher important vine producing family is TOMIĆ and they have a vine tasting spot in the north of the island in JELSA.
However in the centre of HVar old town there is a tiny vine bar in a little street scattered with candles and chunks of wood where you may sit 6 pm onwards, enjoy the beautiful atmosphere and be advised by a man who looks like one of the three musketeers. There you may taste many of the best croatian vines by the glass and nibble at some bear pate. The street is paralael to the main square 10 meters right of the cathedral.
Another fun vine bar is the Hotel park club in the centre next ot the palace hotel, where your can clank away with your vine glass to the music of a live music programe whixh alternates form blues, jazz and bossa nova.
The southern parts of the island are planted with vineyard of the grape Plavac Mali ,a small sweet red-blue grape and this produces the strongest flavoured rich red vine. The north of the island has many plantations of the Plavac, large red grape which produces lighter vine alike chianti. And there is a Hvar white named Bogdanuša.
My favourite vine is the zlatan plavac barrique produced By the PLANČIĆ Family who also have a under sea cellar in SVETA NEDJELJA small town in the southern east part of the island open for vine tasting and food.
Antoher important vine producing family is TOMIĆ and they have a vine tasting spot in the north of the island in JELSA.
However in the centre of HVar old town there is a tiny vine bar in a little street scattered with candles and chunks of wood where you may sit 6 pm onwards, enjoy the beautiful atmosphere and be advised by a man who looks like one of the three musketeers. There you may taste many of the best croatian vines by the glass and nibble at some bear pate. The street is paralael to the main square 10 meters right of the cathedral.
Another fun vine bar is the Hotel park club in the centre next ot the palace hotel, where your can clank away with your vine glass to the music of a live music programe whixh alternates form blues, jazz and bossa nova.
Love being Tourist.. Trip tips on the island Hvar- Love to Dance
To come to Hvar and not dance is like go to Italy and not try their pizza. Prince Harry managed despite all his butch centurions and if you don't try, you simply can not get the full flavour of the island.
A DANCING SCHEDULE
The dancing begins in bikinis and swimming costumes just before sun set at the Hulla Hulla beach. You have a few coctials the dj warms up you dance in you bikini jump in the sea only to come out to dance again, and or possibly get a crush there and then.
Around 10pm after dinner and a change of outfit music will first be heard in THE KIWA BAR in a tinly little street above the port, which is where a bunch of life hungry and international kids start off.
Around midnight CARPE DIEEM the oldest of the clubs on the island stats to get going in the Riviera...
From two am onwards when CARPE DIEM Closes you can choose your end of the night to be at the converted old Church VENERANDA on the hill above town or you may take a boat and sail away to the CARPE DIEM FULL MOON beach party. Both last until day.
THan go for breakfast at the Piazza on the main square..
A DANCING SCHEDULE
The dancing begins in bikinis and swimming costumes just before sun set at the Hulla Hulla beach. You have a few coctials the dj warms up you dance in you bikini jump in the sea only to come out to dance again, and or possibly get a crush there and then.
Around 10pm after dinner and a change of outfit music will first be heard in THE KIWA BAR in a tinly little street above the port, which is where a bunch of life hungry and international kids start off.
Around midnight CARPE DIEEM the oldest of the clubs on the island stats to get going in the Riviera...
From two am onwards when CARPE DIEM Closes you can choose your end of the night to be at the converted old Church VENERANDA on the hill above town or you may take a boat and sail away to the CARPE DIEM FULL MOON beach party. Both last until day.
THan go for breakfast at the Piazza on the main square..
Love being Tourist.. Trip tips on the island Hvar- Martini Coctail
-- I would say with experience spending your very last money on a cocktail in Hvar is like an investment, because frankly you never know what will happen as a result but some thing will happen, though what exactly one must leave to the hands of fortune and horoscope.
A Great and a very hidden spot in the heart of town is the RAKIJA BAR, located on the balcony of the old theatre above the main square, which somehow is often unseen by the tourist who therefor misses its charms, local Rakijas, and a wiew of the world going by and the stars falling about.
THE FORTRESS at sun set is gives views of spectrum of colours as they hit the Pakleni archipelago and the sea giving a great background for photographs and a spot of martini or a PETAR HEKTORIVIC PROŠEK, which is the local and much tastier version of martini.
HULA HULA beach lounge bar on the other hand offers a more full service including later beach beds, a dj, demi nude muses for body watching and handsome young waiters who bring your cocktail to your beach bed and if you smile nicely will give you a massage, and well anything else you may ask for. The beach turns in to a party at sun set.
LAGANINI is a beautiful and one of my favourite lounge bars located in the beach bay PALMIZANA south of the ile ST CLEMENT. Imagine the scene, you are sitting in a olive tree upon a cushion ower looking the brilliant sea, music is playing and waiters place cocktails in your hands.. Than you jump in to the sea, throw a few strokes at the perfectly clear waters, check out other swimmers, and prowl back to your nest in the tree to read a book..
A Great and a very hidden spot in the heart of town is the RAKIJA BAR, located on the balcony of the old theatre above the main square, which somehow is often unseen by the tourist who therefor misses its charms, local Rakijas, and a wiew of the world going by and the stars falling about.
THE FORTRESS at sun set is gives views of spectrum of colours as they hit the Pakleni archipelago and the sea giving a great background for photographs and a spot of martini or a PETAR HEKTORIVIC PROŠEK, which is the local and much tastier version of martini.
HULA HULA beach lounge bar on the other hand offers a more full service including later beach beds, a dj, demi nude muses for body watching and handsome young waiters who bring your cocktail to your beach bed and if you smile nicely will give you a massage, and well anything else you may ask for. The beach turns in to a party at sun set.
LAGANINI is a beautiful and one of my favourite lounge bars located in the beach bay PALMIZANA south of the ile ST CLEMENT. Imagine the scene, you are sitting in a olive tree upon a cushion ower looking the brilliant sea, music is playing and waiters place cocktails in your hands.. Than you jump in to the sea, throw a few strokes at the perfectly clear waters, check out other swimmers, and prowl back to your nest in the tree to read a book..
Love being Tourist.. Trip tips on the island Hvar- Food
FOOD
This city being like a white sparkly jewel on the Adriatic pouting seductively ower a clean and mesmerising turquoise sea attracts all ages, nationality, and means to its seductive embrace. It has thus naturally become a fantastic gastronomic centre offering in numerous restaurants to cater to all tastes, funds, and all of the places are set on making you return.
PASAROLA has the kind of chef you end up becoming friends with simply because you can not accept a stranger giving you orgasms without even having touched you. The chef is a perfectionist.His food a play od ying and yang flavours feng shui balance of colur and tastes. Service very polite. And the vine recommendations can be trusted. The restaurant is located 20 meters right of the HVar cathedral constructed in white stone with a balcony beneath the stars.
BONACA is a relaxed terrace above the riviera with views on the sea and sun setting, with a wonderful chef whose grandfather had caught a whale. Food is wholesome, good and the atmosphere ease, though it can get packed up summer nights so dash to reserve..
LUNGO MARE is a family run restaurant located two bays left of the Rivera behind the Franciscan monastery.. The restaurant is located on the family house terace, it is not beautiful but the food is always utterly wholesome, vegetables are garden picked, the tuna steak is fresh from sea and the best I have ever had anywhere in Dalmatia and so large it can satisfy the hungriest of appetites. The chef and wife are usually about the terrace to make all guests feel part of the family.
MENEGO Is a discovery both in terms of ambient which is very quaint and romantic and also in terms of food which takes a slightly different route to most Hvar restaurants offering a tapas type of choice with many cold marinated dishes such as stuffed peppers with nuts and figs and i don't know what yum.. All the food is Delicious Is a tiny family restaurant set in stone and withing hanging vines near the Benedictine monastery on the way up to the fortress. Great for vegetarians.
BURGER BAR Hvar is probabley the only city in the world where a fast food shack overhangs the main square, and offers its customers enormous and delicious burgers, chevapi, seated at a table on a terrace overhanging the main square with wiew of the cathedral and such godliness as exterminates all bad feelings and guilt one usually feels when in taking fast food.
PIZZA Everone goes so often for a good old pizza and those in Croatia are often delicious. My favourite in Hvar town are ALVIŽ a family restoruant with a open garden and delicious pizzas and Maama mia on the sea front and riviera esp when you ask for a little pot of the pizza sauce to pour over as an extra.
ZORACE is a bay several kilometers out of town which can be reached by car or boat taxis and the ambiance set in rock, beneath the stars with its own beach and food which has been caught the night before by the owner, slated using sea slat collected on the rocks and seasoned with hand picked herbs, capers, and home made vinegar.. A beautiful spot for a glass of vine, or a plate of cheeses , or a lobster, in fact a great spread out in nature restaurant to spend a whole day trip relaxing and eating in the bay.
This city being like a white sparkly jewel on the Adriatic pouting seductively ower a clean and mesmerising turquoise sea attracts all ages, nationality, and means to its seductive embrace. It has thus naturally become a fantastic gastronomic centre offering in numerous restaurants to cater to all tastes, funds, and all of the places are set on making you return.
PASAROLA has the kind of chef you end up becoming friends with simply because you can not accept a stranger giving you orgasms without even having touched you. The chef is a perfectionist.His food a play od ying and yang flavours feng shui balance of colur and tastes. Service very polite. And the vine recommendations can be trusted. The restaurant is located 20 meters right of the HVar cathedral constructed in white stone with a balcony beneath the stars.
BONACA is a relaxed terrace above the riviera with views on the sea and sun setting, with a wonderful chef whose grandfather had caught a whale. Food is wholesome, good and the atmosphere ease, though it can get packed up summer nights so dash to reserve..
LUNGO MARE is a family run restaurant located two bays left of the Rivera behind the Franciscan monastery.. The restaurant is located on the family house terace, it is not beautiful but the food is always utterly wholesome, vegetables are garden picked, the tuna steak is fresh from sea and the best I have ever had anywhere in Dalmatia and so large it can satisfy the hungriest of appetites. The chef and wife are usually about the terrace to make all guests feel part of the family.
MENEGO Is a discovery both in terms of ambient which is very quaint and romantic and also in terms of food which takes a slightly different route to most Hvar restaurants offering a tapas type of choice with many cold marinated dishes such as stuffed peppers with nuts and figs and i don't know what yum.. All the food is Delicious Is a tiny family restaurant set in stone and withing hanging vines near the Benedictine monastery on the way up to the fortress. Great for vegetarians.
BURGER BAR Hvar is probabley the only city in the world where a fast food shack overhangs the main square, and offers its customers enormous and delicious burgers, chevapi, seated at a table on a terrace overhanging the main square with wiew of the cathedral and such godliness as exterminates all bad feelings and guilt one usually feels when in taking fast food.
PIZZA Everone goes so often for a good old pizza and those in Croatia are often delicious. My favourite in Hvar town are ALVIŽ a family restoruant with a open garden and delicious pizzas and Maama mia on the sea front and riviera esp when you ask for a little pot of the pizza sauce to pour over as an extra.
ZORACE is a bay several kilometers out of town which can be reached by car or boat taxis and the ambiance set in rock, beneath the stars with its own beach and food which has been caught the night before by the owner, slated using sea slat collected on the rocks and seasoned with hand picked herbs, capers, and home made vinegar.. A beautiful spot for a glass of vine, or a plate of cheeses , or a lobster, in fact a great spread out in nature restaurant to spend a whole day trip relaxing and eating in the bay.
Love being Tourist.. Trip tips on the island Hvar- Cofee
Almost every day someone asks me for advice as to where to eat and what to do on the island of Hvar.It is certanley one of my favourite islands of all time and all places which is how i came to live here and be a guide to its treasures. So here my dear, if you want to have the best time on the island of Hvar are tips..
COFFE IN HVAR TOWN
As the local lifestyle goes, a coffe in public is to be had several times a day,in different locations in the town following the celestial circulation of the sun or rather trying to sit where there is some god given shade.
Best tasting coffe
The PJACA bar, in the central square on the island has the best coffee and a great position for people watching, being located within the very heart of town.
PARK CLLUB, this club looks like a Cuban social club and provides whole relishings of shade within its large and air con interior where one may take their time to wake up or have a nap in its comfortable cushy seating.
THE RED BARRON This is a locals wake up and catch up bar, seated on high stools around a Palm tree and keeping an eye on the yachts, yachters cute ladies and sailor boys. The bar is located on the riviera.
THE FORTRESS town within its remparts and cstone walls offers coffe and a magnificent eagle eye wiew of town city and the islands. THe walk up to the fortres starts on the main square and past the benedictine monsters.
COFFE IN HVAR TOWN
As the local lifestyle goes, a coffe in public is to be had several times a day,in different locations in the town following the celestial circulation of the sun or rather trying to sit where there is some god given shade.
Best tasting coffe
The PJACA bar, in the central square on the island has the best coffee and a great position for people watching, being located within the very heart of town.
PARK CLLUB, this club looks like a Cuban social club and provides whole relishings of shade within its large and air con interior where one may take their time to wake up or have a nap in its comfortable cushy seating.
THE RED BARRON This is a locals wake up and catch up bar, seated on high stools around a Palm tree and keeping an eye on the yachts, yachters cute ladies and sailor boys. The bar is located on the riviera.
THE FORTRESS town within its remparts and cstone walls offers coffe and a magnificent eagle eye wiew of town city and the islands. THe walk up to the fortres starts on the main square and past the benedictine monsters.
Sunday 15 July 2012
The baby boom.
It is time to write about it despite my not being involved in the happy cloud land but as i am a observer with not much choice baby boom must be a topic of mine. One of my best friends is pregnant. Other best friends of mine are reading this and no i shall not reveal who is pregnant, and yes is definitional one of you.
I received a text message the other day which i quote" listen. Sit down. Now look, im pregnant and crave pineapple juice."
I visited the weekend festival in my birth town, and a whole bunch of girls i realized where fat, and than on better scrutiny realized where possibly pregnant and so trying not to offend them and in fear of doing so started congratulating. Affair than went on all evening as out of the wood work crawled in to the fresher night air ladies with baloned tummies and plenty of men i once refused to flirt with pushing prams. It was a little surreal. The whole population of the small town where in baby boom mode. Perhaps people truly are synchronized more than they should prefer, woman who spend a lot of time all get periods at the same time, and seems like people get babies at the same time. They all feel romantic during a certain period. And this all initiates cycles of change. Parents to be have to reconsider their lifestyle. Their parents who have been urging for grandchildren which would finally absolve them from responsibility for their children are simply relived. Whilst great grandparents get ecstatic to see their little blood empire expand in their lifetime.
So in the middle of the square before my house dozens neighbors where brandishing their offspring, or maternity fashions.
The truth is not all pregnat ladies have a glow. In fact those who carry bulldog expressions in their quoditien with pregnancy accelerate it to look like mean butch bull dogs. Yet there are pregnat ladies who alike the legend promises carry beaming faces, shiney eyes and rosey cheeks floating above the ground uplifted by the helium like inflated tummies happy as can be. Those are beautiful and i must say pass of the whole idea as not at all frightening.
Thursday 5 July 2012
Kako sačuvati ljeto u staklenci..
...Stvar je sa životom na ovim otocima južne Hrvatske gdje svatko prespava zimu poput medvjeda i provodi ljeto okruženo plodnim mladima u kupaćim kostimima, breskvama, gnjecavim sočnim crvenim smokvama , crvenim trešnjama, mesnatim marelicama, dinjama svih na ulicama koje mirišu na cvijeće, punih zelene botanike masnih gumenih biljaka i nestašnih vila.
I ti se prirodno asimiliras. I kao takav. Prvo također promjeniš boju u crvenu.Zatim sazrijes u smeđu. To je prirodni proces zazrljeljavanja plodova. Kada si smeđe boje znaći da si zreo za branje, međutim kako ćeš te protumačiti ovisi o tebi.
Kada shvatiš da unatoče vručini ovdje sada, u ovoj ljetnoj zrelosti svakako je , to je puno bolje nego blijediloo zime, te kao svaki domorodac otočanin počmeš proces sačuvanja ljeta za zimu.
Možeš zapravo sačuvati ljeto u staklenke.I ovih dana sam napravila džem dotrešnja, višnja breskve i barakokule.
Za to trebaš jedonstavno uzeti oko jedna ipo kilograma voća i jedan kg šećera. Dodajte nekoliko žlica vode i soka od cijelog limuna, a zatim pirjati i kuhati voce doke ne ispari veći dio soka. Vruzći i tekući džem, uliti u zagrijane i čiste starinskke staklenke s tim poklopcem i gumomo na poklopcu i eto uspjeli ste.
Ulovili ste miris i osjećaj ljeta u staklenku koju možete početi koristiti kada sunce ide na odmor i skrije se iza kišnih oblaka.
Mi inače ovsje trošimo besmislenu količinu vremena na moru. U moru. 5 tuševa dan ni klima uređaj ne može ohladiti i cvrčanje vruče lave u koju se ljudsko tijelo pretvara svaki put kada je potrebno prošetati tijekom dana ovdje na jugu.
More more samo sat vremena u morskoj vodi i pogled na morske hladne boje vraća tijelo i um u kontrolirajući i pristojan ljudskoi oblik.Boje mora u tim su trenucima najsvjetliji dragulji. Okusiti sol na usnama odmah šalje poruku mozgu da će sve biti ok, da ćemo se ohladiiti i da je u stvari život božanski.
Kako bi sačuvali okus mora za zimu. Skupi morsku sol sa stijena. Uzmite žlicu i stružite grubu morsku soli, solni cvijet sa stijena uz more i staviti u staklenku.
Ili između plivanja naberi kapara.Kapare sade galebovi koji poput ljudi da vole iz sentimentalnih razloga . Kapar je zapravo pupoljak cvijeta kapara. Biljka raste u obliku dlakavog grma na stijenama i na zidovima uz more, ima ružičasto bijele dlakave i izvrsno mirisne cvjetove.
Za pripremu Kapara. Naberite cvjetne pupoljke. Ubacite ih u staklenku ispunjenu morskom vodom na dva tjedna kako bi sol ušla u njih. Zatim isperite pupoljke i ponovno punite staklenku s pola vode i pola kvasine od vina, i naravno kapara .
Ostavite nekoliko tjedana da bi biti spremni za jesti ili pak ostaviti do zime i grickati prisječajući se.. Eto stigli ste na po puta do konzerviranja ljeta u staklenke da bude spremno za zimske mjesece. Sada se ugurajhte u kupaći kostim i pop off na plažu opet. Zgrabi koktel. Arrivederci.
I ti se prirodno asimiliras. I kao takav. Prvo također promjeniš boju u crvenu.Zatim sazrijes u smeđu. To je prirodni proces zazrljeljavanja plodova. Kada si smeđe boje znaći da si zreo za branje, međutim kako ćeš te protumačiti ovisi o tebi.
Kada shvatiš da unatoče vručini ovdje sada, u ovoj ljetnoj zrelosti svakako je , to je puno bolje nego blijediloo zime, te kao svaki domorodac otočanin počmeš proces sačuvanja ljeta za zimu.
Možeš zapravo sačuvati ljeto u staklenke.I ovih dana sam napravila džem dotrešnja, višnja breskve i barakokule.
Za to trebaš jedonstavno uzeti oko jedna ipo kilograma voća i jedan kg šećera. Dodajte nekoliko žlica vode i soka od cijelog limuna, a zatim pirjati i kuhati voce doke ne ispari veći dio soka. Vruzći i tekući džem, uliti u zagrijane i čiste starinskke staklenke s tim poklopcem i gumomo na poklopcu i eto uspjeli ste.
Ulovili ste miris i osjećaj ljeta u staklenku koju možete početi koristiti kada sunce ide na odmor i skrije se iza kišnih oblaka.
Mi inače ovsje trošimo besmislenu količinu vremena na moru. U moru. 5 tuševa dan ni klima uređaj ne može ohladiti i cvrčanje vruče lave u koju se ljudsko tijelo pretvara svaki put kada je potrebno prošetati tijekom dana ovdje na jugu.
More more samo sat vremena u morskoj vodi i pogled na morske hladne boje vraća tijelo i um u kontrolirajući i pristojan ljudskoi oblik.Boje mora u tim su trenucima najsvjetliji dragulji. Okusiti sol na usnama odmah šalje poruku mozgu da će sve biti ok, da ćemo se ohladiiti i da je u stvari život božanski.
Kako bi sačuvali okus mora za zimu. Skupi morsku sol sa stijena. Uzmite žlicu i stružite grubu morsku soli, solni cvijet sa stijena uz more i staviti u staklenku.
Ili između plivanja naberi kapara.Kapare sade galebovi koji poput ljudi da vole iz sentimentalnih razloga . Kapar je zapravo pupoljak cvijeta kapara. Biljka raste u obliku dlakavog grma na stijenama i na zidovima uz more, ima ružičasto bijele dlakave i izvrsno mirisne cvjetove.
Za pripremu Kapara. Naberite cvjetne pupoljke. Ubacite ih u staklenku ispunjenu morskom vodom na dva tjedna kako bi sol ušla u njih. Zatim isperite pupoljke i ponovno punite staklenku s pola vode i pola kvasine od vina, i naravno kapara .
Ostavite nekoliko tjedana da bi biti spremni za jesti ili pak ostaviti do zime i grickati prisječajući se.. Eto stigli ste na po puta do konzerviranja ljeta u staklenke da bude spremno za zimske mjesece. Sada se ugurajhte u kupaći kostim i pop off na plažu opet. Zgrabi koktel. Arrivederci.
swinging at sea...
Looking back on the calendar of all the mystic and magical moments of the year I noted that it was on the very eve of midsummer that we stated our sailing trip on the island of Vis.
A part of our crew was lost due to intoxication and Wave crest the third day of the cruise and the smaller but still merry band continued our affair across the south Adriatic.
The is an island called Bisevo at the south of Vis. Biševo is a proud owner of the most astounding azure cave formed by sun entering a black cave trough a hole beneath sea water and being filtered trough the water.
A Guard of the earthen temple bobs like a duck attached to a line in front of the cave entrance to prevent anyone swimming into the cave and to charge a fee. I used the mermaid stare .We swam in. Cave was a myriad of electric hues of blue, green , turquoise and black, and obviously inhabited by real mermaids and sea gods of old as well as dragons. It was the most magnificent experience. Swimming in pure liquid dream . Swam out trough hole in sea bottom miles beneath sea surface whiteout air almost drowning emerging re borne.
The captain than sailed us across many hours of blue north to the bay of Palmizana where i once lived like Robinson Crusoe for months on end painting. Had a mochito sitting upon a cushion upon an olive tree , i watching sun set, captain watching boat, northerner prowling new yorker girls on their hens night vacation .
The popular jet set bay was stacked with yachts and a mixture of people wanting to be seen.
The most eager to be seen was a German grandma who let loose her hanggy belly, frontal and back bottoms, back and chins and thus paraded on sailing boat nude so,and as precise as a compass turned her bottom as an invitation towards each dingy who neared her boats anchor- whilst a thin husband who she must have drained of life, stood by her side, in swim suit and bad humour, obviously having been persuaded for a game of swap and play as she tried to draw every drunk English tourist falling out of dingy into her swinger lure.
The whole scene was carefully monitored by a like wise endowed in blubber German grandpa on the other side of our boat, who too was the only one naked among his crew of pensioners and whose ratty phallic bobbed up and down in synchrony to naked grandmas performance.
There is no proper rule as to what may or may not do on a boat you see, and despite children swimming in between these boats no one felt obligation to be decent. In fact as northerner went in hunt of further mohitos and captain and i where left alone on deck i noticed a couple on the next door boat,decent boat, young couple, girl topless, watching us, kissing , still watching us, kissing an invitation. Too much. Too many raw naked red swingers at sea.
A part of our crew was lost due to intoxication and Wave crest the third day of the cruise and the smaller but still merry band continued our affair across the south Adriatic.
The is an island called Bisevo at the south of Vis. Biševo is a proud owner of the most astounding azure cave formed by sun entering a black cave trough a hole beneath sea water and being filtered trough the water.
A Guard of the earthen temple bobs like a duck attached to a line in front of the cave entrance to prevent anyone swimming into the cave and to charge a fee. I used the mermaid stare .We swam in. Cave was a myriad of electric hues of blue, green , turquoise and black, and obviously inhabited by real mermaids and sea gods of old as well as dragons. It was the most magnificent experience. Swimming in pure liquid dream . Swam out trough hole in sea bottom miles beneath sea surface whiteout air almost drowning emerging re borne.
The captain than sailed us across many hours of blue north to the bay of Palmizana where i once lived like Robinson Crusoe for months on end painting. Had a mochito sitting upon a cushion upon an olive tree , i watching sun set, captain watching boat, northerner prowling new yorker girls on their hens night vacation .
The popular jet set bay was stacked with yachts and a mixture of people wanting to be seen.
The most eager to be seen was a German grandma who let loose her hanggy belly, frontal and back bottoms, back and chins and thus paraded on sailing boat nude so,and as precise as a compass turned her bottom as an invitation towards each dingy who neared her boats anchor- whilst a thin husband who she must have drained of life, stood by her side, in swim suit and bad humour, obviously having been persuaded for a game of swap and play as she tried to draw every drunk English tourist falling out of dingy into her swinger lure.
The whole scene was carefully monitored by a like wise endowed in blubber German grandpa on the other side of our boat, who too was the only one naked among his crew of pensioners and whose ratty phallic bobbed up and down in synchrony to naked grandmas performance.
There is no proper rule as to what may or may not do on a boat you see, and despite children swimming in between these boats no one felt obligation to be decent. In fact as northerner went in hunt of further mohitos and captain and i where left alone on deck i noticed a couple on the next door boat,decent boat, young couple, girl topless, watching us, kissing , still watching us, kissing an invitation. Too much. Too many raw naked red swingers at sea.
How to preserve summer into a jar...
The thing is with living on these southern Croatia islands where everyone sleeps the winters like bears and spends summer surrounded by fertile young people in swimsuits, peaches, squishy red figs, red juice cherries, red melons, apricots , all species of street scenting flowers, green botanic fat rubber plants and mischievous faeries.
You do tend to assimilate. And as such. Firstly you also turn red. Than you turn brown. Its the natural process of many a ripe fruit. When brown you are ripe, for picking, however you may choose to interpret that.
Than you realise however hot it is here now in this ripe state, it is much better than the pale of winter, and you alike a true islander native begin the process of preserving the summer for the winter. You preserve summer into jars.
I have now made black cherry jam, sour cherry jam, peach jam, and apricot and peach jam.
To make jam simply take about 3 pounds of fruits and 2 pounds of sugar. add a few spoons of water and a juice of a lemon and than simmer until the fruits cook trough and evaporate most of the juice. Hot and liquid jam, pour into hot and clean old fashioned jars with those lids and the rubber seal thingy and there you go. You have your very own taste, smell and feel of summer to use when the sun goes for a break and gets hidden behind rain clouds.
We are spending insensible amount of time at sea. In the sea. 5 showers a day nor air conditioning can cool the sizzling and effervescing lava into which the human body turns to each time it takes a walk during a day here in the South. The sea the sea only an hour in sea water and looking at cool sea colours sets the body and mind into a controllable decent human shape.
The colours of the sea are the brightest jewels. Tasting the salt on the lips is immediate message to brain that all will be ok, that we shall cool down that in fact life is Divine.
To preserve the taste of the sea for the winter. Coollect sea salt of rocks. Take a spoon and scrape rough sea salt -sea salt flower of rocks next to the sea and put in to jar. Or in between swims collect capers.
The caper is planted by the sea-gulls who like the human adores it for the same sentimental reasons. The caper is actually the bud of the honey suckle flower. The plant grows in form of hairy leafy bush off rocks and walls at sea front, has pink white hairy splendidly scented blossoms.
To prepare the caper. Pick flower buds. Pop into a jar filled with sea water for two weeks to salt adequate. Than rinse the buds and refill jar with half water half red vine vinegar, and of course the caper pods. Leave a couple weeks for it to be ready to eat. Or leave til winter and nibble reminiscently.
See. There you are half way there summer is in jars and ready for the winter month. That done. You squeeze into your bikini and pop off to the beach again. Grab a coctail.
To-doo-loo. --
Than you realise however hot it is here now in this ripe state, it is much better than the pale of winter, and you alike a true islander native begin the process of preserving the summer for the winter. You preserve summer into jars.
I have now made black cherry jam, sour cherry jam, peach jam, and apricot and peach jam.
To make jam simply take about 3 pounds of fruits and 2 pounds of sugar. add a few spoons of water and a juice of a lemon and than simmer until the fruits cook trough and evaporate most of the juice. Hot and liquid jam, pour into hot and clean old fashioned jars with those lids and the rubber seal thingy and there you go. You have your very own taste, smell and feel of summer to use when the sun goes for a break and gets hidden behind rain clouds.
We are spending insensible amount of time at sea. In the sea. 5 showers a day nor air conditioning can cool the sizzling and effervescing lava into which the human body turns to each time it takes a walk during a day here in the South. The sea the sea only an hour in sea water and looking at cool sea colours sets the body and mind into a controllable decent human shape.
The colours of the sea are the brightest jewels. Tasting the salt on the lips is immediate message to brain that all will be ok, that we shall cool down that in fact life is Divine.
To preserve the taste of the sea for the winter. Coollect sea salt of rocks. Take a spoon and scrape rough sea salt -sea salt flower of rocks next to the sea and put in to jar. Or in between swims collect capers.
The caper is planted by the sea-gulls who like the human adores it for the same sentimental reasons. The caper is actually the bud of the honey suckle flower. The plant grows in form of hairy leafy bush off rocks and walls at sea front, has pink white hairy splendidly scented blossoms.
To prepare the caper. Pick flower buds. Pop into a jar filled with sea water for two weeks to salt adequate. Than rinse the buds and refill jar with half water half red vine vinegar, and of course the caper pods. Leave a couple weeks for it to be ready to eat. Or leave til winter and nibble reminiscently.
See. There you are half way there summer is in jars and ready for the winter month. That done. You squeeze into your bikini and pop off to the beach again. Grab a coctail.
To-doo-loo. --
Saturday 30 June 2012
at sea continued.
Bang bang made the captains virtual dream presence materialise at my cabin. Put some clothes on i hissed aghast at his now day time nudity. His ding dong swayed like a floor clock pendulum together, with his body, and the boat not too far away from the head of one one of the innocently slumbering passengers.. Everything was swaying. My head felt like a bottle of wool, and as i for the second time gave up the struggle and withered into my bedsheet body turban, an explosion sputtered trough the air and made me jump back up again and out of the cabin window.
What in god's.. Ah of course. We are in the place the time stopped. A gun from the wars against napoleon here is still used to tell the time to the fishermen. Well there was no point of trying to sleep, i mounted into my costume and pushed out of the window.
Splash is a insufficient word for the sound /feeling you feel jumping in to the sea right out of bed. Isn't it the most thrilling sensation not having to wash ones face nor to shower but just plopping right in to the sea. The captain confirmed my thoughts. we where flying in pure melted turquoise colour together with seagulls and fish.
Bang. The deranged clock method shot antoher pound of gun powder. Bang. And with the sounds several other heads popped out of the boat. What the hell is that? The newcomers moaned insulted at the wakening. And oh where are we? I was pleased my braincells had re activated in the cool of the water and it was merely enjoying watching the crew going trough the self doubt, i had tasted moments ago. This is not where we where anchored last night. What is this place? just than the brass band struck up a new communist number. Jump in it will all be better i swear. In manner of fat penguins they slid in to the watter than as excited as if they had caught a fish in their beak they emerged out of the water squaking the name of the town they finally placed.
Komiza. Komiza!
Once we had all climbed aboard we where struck in unison at the sight of the cock pit. Candle wax had melted everywhere. There where cups and bottles of gin and chivas and plates and tomatoes and underwear hanging indecently from winches. What had happened.There was a dinner. And jazz. Night swimming.Some sort of teenage game was played.
In silent and shameful unison everyone decided to make no remarks what so ever about he previous night. In tune to the bras band we marched one at a time into the boat to re baptise ourselves and dunk the body into clean clothes which smell of washing powder and goodnes. Than stepped into the dingy. Whizzed to the good old safe and predictable normality of the shore. Bought food which no one was able to eat, and sat down for coffe no one was able to drink amongst local families who had just emerged from church.
This is the bar in which your bother proposed to the waitress the night of the regatta. Remember ,he introduced her to your mother and father . The captain smiled smugly.
What happens on the islands stays on ths islands is the general rule and what ever happens is invalid outside the island.
But it was quite obvious that more than time was warped in this town.I mean it is the only place in the whole country where the favourite local sport is cricket.
The town had for decades been out of reach to anyone not borne on the island because its many cave riddled hills where used as secret communist army bases, keeping this town isolated from fashions and developments thus preserving it intact with houses built in the very sea with gardens which consisted of water and garden plants consisting of sea weed.
The sun rose up and high and hoter than desired,having exhausted all good holliday humour previous evening, there was no more speakin to do. The captain announced that the boat will stay anchored where it is for the rest of the day after which the crew like antisocial lizzards each found a seperate bit of shade to hide in ...
to be continued
What in god's.. Ah of course. We are in the place the time stopped. A gun from the wars against napoleon here is still used to tell the time to the fishermen. Well there was no point of trying to sleep, i mounted into my costume and pushed out of the window.
Splash is a insufficient word for the sound /feeling you feel jumping in to the sea right out of bed. Isn't it the most thrilling sensation not having to wash ones face nor to shower but just plopping right in to the sea. The captain confirmed my thoughts. we where flying in pure melted turquoise colour together with seagulls and fish.
Bang. The deranged clock method shot antoher pound of gun powder. Bang. And with the sounds several other heads popped out of the boat. What the hell is that? The newcomers moaned insulted at the wakening. And oh where are we? I was pleased my braincells had re activated in the cool of the water and it was merely enjoying watching the crew going trough the self doubt, i had tasted moments ago. This is not where we where anchored last night. What is this place? just than the brass band struck up a new communist number. Jump in it will all be better i swear. In manner of fat penguins they slid in to the watter than as excited as if they had caught a fish in their beak they emerged out of the water squaking the name of the town they finally placed.
Komiza. Komiza!
Once we had all climbed aboard we where struck in unison at the sight of the cock pit. Candle wax had melted everywhere. There where cups and bottles of gin and chivas and plates and tomatoes and underwear hanging indecently from winches. What had happened.There was a dinner. And jazz. Night swimming.Some sort of teenage game was played.
In silent and shameful unison everyone decided to make no remarks what so ever about he previous night. In tune to the bras band we marched one at a time into the boat to re baptise ourselves and dunk the body into clean clothes which smell of washing powder and goodnes. Than stepped into the dingy. Whizzed to the good old safe and predictable normality of the shore. Bought food which no one was able to eat, and sat down for coffe no one was able to drink amongst local families who had just emerged from church.
This is the bar in which your bother proposed to the waitress the night of the regatta. Remember ,he introduced her to your mother and father . The captain smiled smugly.
What happens on the islands stays on ths islands is the general rule and what ever happens is invalid outside the island.
But it was quite obvious that more than time was warped in this town.I mean it is the only place in the whole country where the favourite local sport is cricket.
The town had for decades been out of reach to anyone not borne on the island because its many cave riddled hills where used as secret communist army bases, keeping this town isolated from fashions and developments thus preserving it intact with houses built in the very sea with gardens which consisted of water and garden plants consisting of sea weed.
The sun rose up and high and hoter than desired,having exhausted all good holliday humour previous evening, there was no more speakin to do. The captain announced that the boat will stay anchored where it is for the rest of the day after which the crew like antisocial lizzards each found a seperate bit of shade to hide in ...
to be continued
Wednesday 27 June 2012
At sea. From the island Vis to Hvar
I
There is something about being on boats out at sea which puts one in a frame of mind as if they personally are ruling the world, or even that there exist no rules of behavior to which the sailors must adhere to.
Coach drivers have a similar mind rush when they drive the coach. They like a giant snail drive a microcosm on wheels behind them, in which they are responsible for all that happens, which makes them feel like the very king, on top of the world, Gingus Khan, a man who believes that he rightfully there for can have any woman he chooses in his bus for his pleasure if the where just to try.
The difference between a coach driver and a captain at sea is that the captain knows he can, get any woman on board to do as he desires , and not just a woman, not just one, and there for in his advances is not vulgar, and crass like the coach driver , he is subtle, gauging his conquests like a silent predator. Every bodies lives, depend on his mood and his whims and I can say safety that the captain is not as much a person who delivers the boat and passengers from one spot to another, but rather is an orchestrator of all that happens on board.
The boat my dear is an island. It stands in the sea quite independent of the country it has come from and the country it is in. It is surrounded by the sea. No one near. Anything can go on, on a boat, my dear.
II
We started, i think it was Friday, yet it feels longer, like a world trip longer, there was a catamaran from one island to the mainland,a trip to the jungles and waterfalls, than a ferry from he mainland south of the sun set, a whole DJ set of Marlyn Monroe skirts lifting on top deck in the wind to the sunshade hidden sneaks of film directors, pop stars and paparazzi, heading to an adorable secret little fishing town where no one knows them , they cant wait to get there as they pose on the fence for the glamor magazines, a town where they will just be normal. We had vine. and cake. and sunscreen.
The captain met us on the island and took us to a port side hole where freshly baked red behind the ears, salty skinned awaited the last members of our crew. We had more vine as tradition calls and than kilo watts and light years of stars fell up us.
The town was located in the north of the most southern and middle island of this sea. all phone batteries died. Life = perfection, or something like that. The boys lead us on a tiny rubber dingy and buzzed into the tar colored sea full of sharks and squid and mermaids where in the middle of the blackness a white yacht awaited us. Our very own island. Our very own little island.
We made a barbie, cut fresh island tomatoes, put candles on deck and made little cup wind defenders or them, the oldest and best radio DJ tuned into our world and played the perfect jazz, for our perfect holiday cliche, we opened a bottle of Bombay sapphire, had it with some warm tonic,id did not matter much,somehow soon where in the sea, naked, swimming in the blackness of the furthest island, in the deepest blackest seas full of sharks and sharp tooth mermaids.
III
I heard rumbling in my sleep i thought that captain was re anchoring the boat. I was almost reluctant to open my eyes. A strange noise made me curious. The noise of a brass band. I pulled the body into the window above the cabin and indeed saw a brass band compleate wih eormous trombones. Proper communist stye brass band with uniforms and all, it looked just like the brass bands which where so popular during the reign of general Tito. Oh wait. There is a painted wall.
" LONG LIVE GENERAL TITO.
hm. I stared trough the salt crystals on my eyelashes at the reflections of the graffiti and decided that i must be dreaming my self in a Yugoslavian film, or maybe am time traveling or am dreaming a past life and just as i had re coiled back into the bed nest to dream this out, a flicker of a thought, a thought of a Rapunzel type fortress made me spring up and jack out of the box pop out of the window.
Damn it was real. What the hell is that fortress doing there behind the communist band? A huge and real fortress stood in the port, which was not there yesterday. A fear that i been struck with madness froze me for seconds. The bras band than stopped and some sort of mayor give speeches and applause as they so well do. The swaying of a blurry familiar looking object between self and band appeared in between i and band. A penis.
The captain was naked on the deck. I grumbled something out of my window box and bent my knees to make the window conceal me.. He responded in the same language. Where the hell are we? I hoped he would confirm my vision. How did we get here? I couldn't sleep he replied. You couldn't sleep?. Yes i got pissed off at the boa beating against the side of the boat so i lifted anchor and set sail. How far are we from last night? I asked still confuesd. Five hours. Time or distance? Both.
The mayor started honouring old fihhermen,Ah. this is the town all the celebrities ran away to i realised. Litle ancient boats lifted hundred year old sails and flutered in the breaze.
Than came the knock on the door. Bang bang.
.Bang bang made the captains virtual dream presence materialise at my cabin. Put some clothes on i hissed aghast at his now day time nudity. His ding dong swayed like a floor clock pendulum together, with his body, and the boat ,not too far away from the head of one one of the innocently slumbering passengers.. Everything was swaying. My head felt like a bottle of wool, and as i for the second time gave up the struggle and withered into my bedsheet body turban, an explosion sputtered trough the air and made me jump back up again and out of the cabin window.
What in god's.. Ah of course. We are in the place the time stopped. A gun from the wars against napoleon here is still used to tell the time to the fishermen. Well there was no point of trying to sleep, i mounted into my costume and pushed out of the window.
Splash is a insufficient word for the sound /feeling you of jumping in to the sea right out of bed. Isn't it the most thrilling sensation not having to wash one's face nor to shower but just plopping right in to the sea. The captain confirmed my thoughts. we where flying in pure melted turquoise colour together with seagulls and fish.
Bang. The deranged clock method shot another pound of gun powder. Bang. And with the sounds several other heads popped out of the boat. What the hell is that? The newcomers moaned insulted at the wakening. And oh where are we? I was pleased my braincells had re activated in the cool of the water and it was merely enjoying watching the crew going trough the self doubt, i had tasted moments ago. This is not where we where anchored last night. What is this place? just than the brass band struck up a new communist number. Jump in ,it will all be better i swear.I sugggested. In manner of fat penguins they slid in to the water, and as excited as if they had caught a fish in their beak they emerged out of the water squaking the name of the town they finally placed.
Komiza. Komiza!
Once we had all climbed aboard we where struck in unison at the sight of the cock pit. Candle wax had melted everywhere. There where cups and bottles of gin and chivas and plates and tomatoes and underwear hanging indecently from winches. What had happened.There was a dinner. And jazz. Night swimming.Some sort of teenage game was played.
In silent and shameful unison everyone decided to make no remarks what so ever about he previous night. In tune to the bras band we marched one at a time into the boat to re baptise ourselves and dunk the body into clean clothes which smell of washing powder and goodnes. Than stepped into the dingy. Whizzed to the good old safe and predictable normality of the shore. Bought food which no one was able to eat, and sat down for coffe no one was able to drink amongst local families who had just emerged from church.
This is the bar in which your bother proposed to the waitress the night of the regatta, i reminded. Remember ,he introduced her to your mother and father . The captain smiled smugly.
What happens on the islands, stays on ths islands, is the general rule and what ever happens, is invalid outside the island.
But it was quite obvious that more than time was warped in this town.I mean it is the only place in the whole country where the favourite local sport is cricket.
The town had for decades been out of reach to anyone not borne on the island because its many cave riddled hills where used as secret communist army bases, keeping this town isolated from fashions and developments thus preserving it intact with houses built in the very sea with gardens which consisted of water and garden plants consisting of sea weed.
The sun rose up and high and hoter than desired,having exhausted all good holliday humour previous evening, there was no more speakin to do. The captain announced that the boat will stay anchored where it is for the rest of the day after which the crew like antisocial lizzards each found a seperate bit of shade to hide in ...
IV
Looking back on the calendar of all the mystic and magical moments of the year I noted that it was on the very eve of midsummer that we stated our sailing trip on the island of Vis. A female part of our crew was lost due to intoxication and Wave crest the third day of the cruise and the smaller but still merry band continued our affair across the south Adriatic. To an island called Biševo at the south of Vis. Biševo is a proud owner of the most astounding azure cave formed by sun entering a black cave trough a hole beneath sea water and being filtered trough the water.
A Guard of the earthen temple bobs like a duck attached to a line in front of the cave entrance to prevent anyone swimming into the cave and to charge a fee. I used the mermaid stare .We swam in. Cave was a myriad of electric hues of blue, green , turquoise and black, and obviously inhabited by real mermaids and sea gods of old as well as dragons. It was the most magnificent experience. Swimming in pure liquid dream . We swam out trough hole in sea bottom miles beneath sea surface whiteout air almost drowning, emerging re borne.
The captain than sailed us across many hours of blue north to the bay of Palmižana where i once lived like Robinson Crusoe for months on end painting. Had a mochito sitting upon a cushion upon an olive tree , i watching sun set, captain watching boat, northerner prowling new yorker girls on their hens night vacation .
The popular jet set bay was stacked with yachts and a mixture of people wanting to be seen.
The most eager to be seen was a German grandma who let loose her hanggy belly, frontal and back bottoms, back and chins and thus paraded on sailing boat nude so,and as precise as a compass turned her bottom as an invitation towards each dingy who neared her boats anchor- whilst a thin husband who she must have drained of life, stood by her side, in swim suit and bad humour, obviously having been persuaded for a game of swap and play as she tried to draw every drunk English tourist falling out of dingy into her swinger lure.
The whole scene was carefully monitored by a like wise endowed in blubber German grandpa on the other side of our boat, who too was the only one naked among his crew of pensioners and whose ratty phallic bobbed up and down in synchrony to naked grandmas performance.
There is no proper rule as to what may or may not do on a boat you see, and despite children swimming in between these boats no one felt obligation to be decent. In fact as northerner went in hunt of further mochitos and captain and i where left alone on deck i noticed a couple on the next door boat,decent boat, young couple, girl topless, watching us, kissing , still watching us, kissing an invitation.
But it was too much. Too many raw naked red swingers at sea for me. As a contrast i wanted proper ness. And not a word more oabout what happened nights before. I cooked , we ate, and sleapt until the nexd dawn, the captain sailed me back to hvar, kissed me off the deck and the boys pushed alone on.
There is something about being on boats out at sea which puts one in a frame of mind as if they personally are ruling the world, or even that there exist no rules of behavior to which the sailors must adhere to.
Coach drivers have a similar mind rush when they drive the coach. They like a giant snail drive a microcosm on wheels behind them, in which they are responsible for all that happens, which makes them feel like the very king, on top of the world, Gingus Khan, a man who believes that he rightfully there for can have any woman he chooses in his bus for his pleasure if the where just to try.
The difference between a coach driver and a captain at sea is that the captain knows he can, get any woman on board to do as he desires , and not just a woman, not just one, and there for in his advances is not vulgar, and crass like the coach driver , he is subtle, gauging his conquests like a silent predator. Every bodies lives, depend on his mood and his whims and I can say safety that the captain is not as much a person who delivers the boat and passengers from one spot to another, but rather is an orchestrator of all that happens on board.
The boat my dear is an island. It stands in the sea quite independent of the country it has come from and the country it is in. It is surrounded by the sea. No one near. Anything can go on, on a boat, my dear.
II
We started, i think it was Friday, yet it feels longer, like a world trip longer, there was a catamaran from one island to the mainland,a trip to the jungles and waterfalls, than a ferry from he mainland south of the sun set, a whole DJ set of Marlyn Monroe skirts lifting on top deck in the wind to the sunshade hidden sneaks of film directors, pop stars and paparazzi, heading to an adorable secret little fishing town where no one knows them , they cant wait to get there as they pose on the fence for the glamor magazines, a town where they will just be normal. We had vine. and cake. and sunscreen.
The captain met us on the island and took us to a port side hole where freshly baked red behind the ears, salty skinned awaited the last members of our crew. We had more vine as tradition calls and than kilo watts and light years of stars fell up us.
The town was located in the north of the most southern and middle island of this sea. all phone batteries died. Life = perfection, or something like that. The boys lead us on a tiny rubber dingy and buzzed into the tar colored sea full of sharks and squid and mermaids where in the middle of the blackness a white yacht awaited us. Our very own island. Our very own little island.
We made a barbie, cut fresh island tomatoes, put candles on deck and made little cup wind defenders or them, the oldest and best radio DJ tuned into our world and played the perfect jazz, for our perfect holiday cliche, we opened a bottle of Bombay sapphire, had it with some warm tonic,id did not matter much,somehow soon where in the sea, naked, swimming in the blackness of the furthest island, in the deepest blackest seas full of sharks and sharp tooth mermaids.
III
I heard rumbling in my sleep i thought that captain was re anchoring the boat. I was almost reluctant to open my eyes. A strange noise made me curious. The noise of a brass band. I pulled the body into the window above the cabin and indeed saw a brass band compleate wih eormous trombones. Proper communist stye brass band with uniforms and all, it looked just like the brass bands which where so popular during the reign of general Tito. Oh wait. There is a painted wall.
" LONG LIVE GENERAL TITO.
hm. I stared trough the salt crystals on my eyelashes at the reflections of the graffiti and decided that i must be dreaming my self in a Yugoslavian film, or maybe am time traveling or am dreaming a past life and just as i had re coiled back into the bed nest to dream this out, a flicker of a thought, a thought of a Rapunzel type fortress made me spring up and jack out of the box pop out of the window.
Damn it was real. What the hell is that fortress doing there behind the communist band? A huge and real fortress stood in the port, which was not there yesterday. A fear that i been struck with madness froze me for seconds. The bras band than stopped and some sort of mayor give speeches and applause as they so well do. The swaying of a blurry familiar looking object between self and band appeared in between i and band. A penis.
The captain was naked on the deck. I grumbled something out of my window box and bent my knees to make the window conceal me.. He responded in the same language. Where the hell are we? I hoped he would confirm my vision. How did we get here? I couldn't sleep he replied. You couldn't sleep?. Yes i got pissed off at the boa beating against the side of the boat so i lifted anchor and set sail. How far are we from last night? I asked still confuesd. Five hours. Time or distance? Both.
The mayor started honouring old fihhermen,Ah. this is the town all the celebrities ran away to i realised. Litle ancient boats lifted hundred year old sails and flutered in the breaze.
Than came the knock on the door. Bang bang.
.Bang bang made the captains virtual dream presence materialise at my cabin. Put some clothes on i hissed aghast at his now day time nudity. His ding dong swayed like a floor clock pendulum together, with his body, and the boat ,not too far away from the head of one one of the innocently slumbering passengers.. Everything was swaying. My head felt like a bottle of wool, and as i for the second time gave up the struggle and withered into my bedsheet body turban, an explosion sputtered trough the air and made me jump back up again and out of the cabin window.
What in god's.. Ah of course. We are in the place the time stopped. A gun from the wars against napoleon here is still used to tell the time to the fishermen. Well there was no point of trying to sleep, i mounted into my costume and pushed out of the window.
Splash is a insufficient word for the sound /feeling you of jumping in to the sea right out of bed. Isn't it the most thrilling sensation not having to wash one's face nor to shower but just plopping right in to the sea. The captain confirmed my thoughts. we where flying in pure melted turquoise colour together with seagulls and fish.
Bang. The deranged clock method shot another pound of gun powder. Bang. And with the sounds several other heads popped out of the boat. What the hell is that? The newcomers moaned insulted at the wakening. And oh where are we? I was pleased my braincells had re activated in the cool of the water and it was merely enjoying watching the crew going trough the self doubt, i had tasted moments ago. This is not where we where anchored last night. What is this place? just than the brass band struck up a new communist number. Jump in ,it will all be better i swear.I sugggested. In manner of fat penguins they slid in to the water, and as excited as if they had caught a fish in their beak they emerged out of the water squaking the name of the town they finally placed.
Komiza. Komiza!
Once we had all climbed aboard we where struck in unison at the sight of the cock pit. Candle wax had melted everywhere. There where cups and bottles of gin and chivas and plates and tomatoes and underwear hanging indecently from winches. What had happened.There was a dinner. And jazz. Night swimming.Some sort of teenage game was played.
In silent and shameful unison everyone decided to make no remarks what so ever about he previous night. In tune to the bras band we marched one at a time into the boat to re baptise ourselves and dunk the body into clean clothes which smell of washing powder and goodnes. Than stepped into the dingy. Whizzed to the good old safe and predictable normality of the shore. Bought food which no one was able to eat, and sat down for coffe no one was able to drink amongst local families who had just emerged from church.
This is the bar in which your bother proposed to the waitress the night of the regatta, i reminded. Remember ,he introduced her to your mother and father . The captain smiled smugly.
What happens on the islands, stays on ths islands, is the general rule and what ever happens, is invalid outside the island.
But it was quite obvious that more than time was warped in this town.I mean it is the only place in the whole country where the favourite local sport is cricket.
The town had for decades been out of reach to anyone not borne on the island because its many cave riddled hills where used as secret communist army bases, keeping this town isolated from fashions and developments thus preserving it intact with houses built in the very sea with gardens which consisted of water and garden plants consisting of sea weed.
The sun rose up and high and hoter than desired,having exhausted all good holliday humour previous evening, there was no more speakin to do. The captain announced that the boat will stay anchored where it is for the rest of the day after which the crew like antisocial lizzards each found a seperate bit of shade to hide in ...
IV
Looking back on the calendar of all the mystic and magical moments of the year I noted that it was on the very eve of midsummer that we stated our sailing trip on the island of Vis. A female part of our crew was lost due to intoxication and Wave crest the third day of the cruise and the smaller but still merry band continued our affair across the south Adriatic. To an island called Biševo at the south of Vis. Biševo is a proud owner of the most astounding azure cave formed by sun entering a black cave trough a hole beneath sea water and being filtered trough the water.
A Guard of the earthen temple bobs like a duck attached to a line in front of the cave entrance to prevent anyone swimming into the cave and to charge a fee. I used the mermaid stare .We swam in. Cave was a myriad of electric hues of blue, green , turquoise and black, and obviously inhabited by real mermaids and sea gods of old as well as dragons. It was the most magnificent experience. Swimming in pure liquid dream . We swam out trough hole in sea bottom miles beneath sea surface whiteout air almost drowning, emerging re borne.
The captain than sailed us across many hours of blue north to the bay of Palmižana where i once lived like Robinson Crusoe for months on end painting. Had a mochito sitting upon a cushion upon an olive tree , i watching sun set, captain watching boat, northerner prowling new yorker girls on their hens night vacation .
The popular jet set bay was stacked with yachts and a mixture of people wanting to be seen.
The most eager to be seen was a German grandma who let loose her hanggy belly, frontal and back bottoms, back and chins and thus paraded on sailing boat nude so,and as precise as a compass turned her bottom as an invitation towards each dingy who neared her boats anchor- whilst a thin husband who she must have drained of life, stood by her side, in swim suit and bad humour, obviously having been persuaded for a game of swap and play as she tried to draw every drunk English tourist falling out of dingy into her swinger lure.
The whole scene was carefully monitored by a like wise endowed in blubber German grandpa on the other side of our boat, who too was the only one naked among his crew of pensioners and whose ratty phallic bobbed up and down in synchrony to naked grandmas performance.
There is no proper rule as to what may or may not do on a boat you see, and despite children swimming in between these boats no one felt obligation to be decent. In fact as northerner went in hunt of further mochitos and captain and i where left alone on deck i noticed a couple on the next door boat,decent boat, young couple, girl topless, watching us, kissing , still watching us, kissing an invitation.
But it was too much. Too many raw naked red swingers at sea for me. As a contrast i wanted proper ness. And not a word more oabout what happened nights before. I cooked , we ate, and sleapt until the nexd dawn, the captain sailed me back to hvar, kissed me off the deck and the boys pushed alone on.
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