The first day I arrived in Romania, I remember us joking about werewolves, me thinking wolves were far extinct in most areas of the world, and H then saying, "What until there's a full moon and the dogs start howling back to them." I thought that was pretty funny. Until last night. All by myself at the homestead, I'm sitting in the living room and the dogs start getting all funny and restless. One is jumping up on me then running in circles and yelping, trying to get my attention for something. I'm a little weirded out. Then, all at once, they start howling and I hear a distant howl from the forest from no doubt a wolf. Eeeeeeek.
That night I made sure I had Sasha and Bertus with me, and the walk across the road was not nearly as scary as I've thought it'd be.
Now I've polished off another breakfast - smoked salmon this time, oh sammy how I missed you - google translated my way to ask the gypsy housemaid to remove the smelly little thing from dead mouse corner, can't find my fly swatter (tragedy) so flies are pooing all over my computer screen. Mother fuckers. I'm going to have another look. Ahh, there it is. Hanging up. Right in front of me. Victory is MINE!
Oh, also I forgot to mention I saw a dead fawn yesterday on my morning ride. Poor little thing. Well, it might've just been resting. In a really awkward position. In the pouring rain. By itself. By the river. Pretty sure it was dead. Thought momentarily about checking if I could help it then thought, no it's actually probably just been killed by a wolf and then I came along, so if said wolf was hiding waiting for me to leave, it would probably get a little pissed that I was tending to its prey. I was scared enuf for the foal with me as it was.
Today I'll have a morning ride and then maybe try to tame this young horse in the yard.
DIE, FLY, DIE!!
Wednesday, 28 July 2010
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Rain, rain and more rain... and mice.
Today it rained. And rained. And rained. I rode good ol' Vivke this morning, foal in tow (it's gorgeous, getting all high n mighty with the dogs now and chasing them for a change), and it was quite pleasant. I was equipped with a rain jacket so it was OK. Welcome change to the sun. The afternoon ride, however, not so well prepared. Momentary sun poking out from the clouds fooled me into thinking the rain was over - fool I be, as I rode back DRENCHED in the torrential rain. Poor old Bombyana.
Now I've just stuffed myself way too full (what a change) with the leftovers and am sitting in the living room making myself paranoid about mice crawling over my feet, falling from the ceiling, jumping out from cupboards. I don't know why I am so scared, I used to own one of the damn things, but there's just something about the wild ones. And I know the cat is useless. I just located the source of the dead mouse smell, and it was indeed a dead mouse. In the corner. I ain't cleaning it up. Hideous. I can at least thank my time at TMN for giving me such a keen sense of dead mouse smell. Now that's a skill to pass down the generations.
Second day in and I'm by myself with the gypsies. They kinda treat me like the temporary boss, which is quite funny since I don't really know what they're saying. But hey, I guess it's a compliment! Ha! It's also funny, I guess because I'm older and louder, I'm kinda the leader in the threesome of me and the 2 Swedish girls. They're perfectly capable but I think they don't mind just taking orders. Not that I order them around but I seem to find myself organising meals (even cooking them, shock horror!) and whose riding who etc. I'm sure the gloss will fade soon enuf.
I have been here for just shy of two weeks and it already feels so homey. Another couple emailed me from the same Help Exchange website crying for help with their horses on a property a couple of hours drive from here, still in Transylvania. I think I'll go and see if I can save any of the beasts from becoming dog meat, but I still want to stay here for a little bit. Was thinking perhaps late Aug/early Sept I could head there, the couple are English I think and sound nice. Also sound like they don't mind a pint or two, how very unusual for the British, so I'll fit in fine.
Eww, this smell is only gonna get worse. Grrr. I wish I didn't have to sit here with the internet cable.
Sasha and Bertus slept on the landing of my room last night, it was very nice to have some company and feel a bit more secure. Nice dogs, they are. Tonight I'll bring them in again then tomorrow I meet the others to camp out somewhere. Can't wait, the weather looks a treat.
I got an email response from one of the South African properties I enquired to, and they're keen to have me whenever I want to come. So I've been busying myself researching and researching, as I do, about vaccinations, flights, dates etc... I don't think I will work in Cyprus, I'll just have time to visit P for a little bit and then head to South Africa via London perhaps. It's not that cheap to fly there unfortunately. We'll see what happens.
Now I've just stuffed myself way too full (what a change) with the leftovers and am sitting in the living room making myself paranoid about mice crawling over my feet, falling from the ceiling, jumping out from cupboards. I don't know why I am so scared, I used to own one of the damn things, but there's just something about the wild ones. And I know the cat is useless. I just located the source of the dead mouse smell, and it was indeed a dead mouse. In the corner. I ain't cleaning it up. Hideous. I can at least thank my time at TMN for giving me such a keen sense of dead mouse smell. Now that's a skill to pass down the generations.
Second day in and I'm by myself with the gypsies. They kinda treat me like the temporary boss, which is quite funny since I don't really know what they're saying. But hey, I guess it's a compliment! Ha! It's also funny, I guess because I'm older and louder, I'm kinda the leader in the threesome of me and the 2 Swedish girls. They're perfectly capable but I think they don't mind just taking orders. Not that I order them around but I seem to find myself organising meals (even cooking them, shock horror!) and whose riding who etc. I'm sure the gloss will fade soon enuf.
I have been here for just shy of two weeks and it already feels so homey. Another couple emailed me from the same Help Exchange website crying for help with their horses on a property a couple of hours drive from here, still in Transylvania. I think I'll go and see if I can save any of the beasts from becoming dog meat, but I still want to stay here for a little bit. Was thinking perhaps late Aug/early Sept I could head there, the couple are English I think and sound nice. Also sound like they don't mind a pint or two, how very unusual for the British, so I'll fit in fine.
Eww, this smell is only gonna get worse. Grrr. I wish I didn't have to sit here with the internet cable.
Sasha and Bertus slept on the landing of my room last night, it was very nice to have some company and feel a bit more secure. Nice dogs, they are. Tonight I'll bring them in again then tomorrow I meet the others to camp out somewhere. Can't wait, the weather looks a treat.
I got an email response from one of the South African properties I enquired to, and they're keen to have me whenever I want to come. So I've been busying myself researching and researching, as I do, about vaccinations, flights, dates etc... I don't think I will work in Cyprus, I'll just have time to visit P for a little bit and then head to South Africa via London perhaps. It's not that cheap to fly there unfortunately. We'll see what happens.
Monday, 26 July 2010
Never teach an old stallion new tricks
OK, well I learnt a valuable lesson today. Luckily not with my face this time. If you are a young girl of reasonable strength, perhaps a little lower than normal, do not attempt to try and teach an old stallion new tricks. Ai ai ai... My hands, I can confidently say, are now red raw from pulling back from the almighty beast and I am pretty sure when I wake tomorrow I am going to be sore in places I didn't even know I had muscles. And that was just from trying to walk him down the st.
The guests and girls left with H today for their multi-day trek and I was left minding the farm. And trying to train a stallion. Silly me. Luckily the gypos helped me get him in the right stable, there was NO way I was gettin him to move. I swear I have never met a more powerful or stubborn animal. And I know some stubborn men.
So I rested my hands for a couple of hours (by typing on my computer, go figure) and then waited a little longer for one of the gypos to take some oats to the pension the guys were staying in tonight. Turns out it's a helluva nice place and as they turned up to eat dinner, I was yearning for a taste. Not to be, however, as me and the gypo were bid farewell and drove back in language barrier silence. Except for the times he spoke and just said 'da, da' like I was totally on the same page. I'm getting good at that.
Now I'm back at the homestead, all by my lonesome besides the dogs, and not really looking fwd to sleeping alone at the guest house across the st. But I am taking dogs, oh yes I am. Tomorrow there is meant to be a French girl coming to ride but I don't think she's confirmed so I'm not expecting anything. I'll just have breakfast and then head out by myself. Some peace and quiet, twill be nice.
The guests and girls left with H today for their multi-day trek and I was left minding the farm. And trying to train a stallion. Silly me. Luckily the gypos helped me get him in the right stable, there was NO way I was gettin him to move. I swear I have never met a more powerful or stubborn animal. And I know some stubborn men.
So I rested my hands for a couple of hours (by typing on my computer, go figure) and then waited a little longer for one of the gypos to take some oats to the pension the guys were staying in tonight. Turns out it's a helluva nice place and as they turned up to eat dinner, I was yearning for a taste. Not to be, however, as me and the gypo were bid farewell and drove back in language barrier silence. Except for the times he spoke and just said 'da, da' like I was totally on the same page. I'm getting good at that.
Now I'm back at the homestead, all by my lonesome besides the dogs, and not really looking fwd to sleeping alone at the guest house across the st. But I am taking dogs, oh yes I am. Tomorrow there is meant to be a French girl coming to ride but I don't think she's confirmed so I'm not expecting anything. I'll just have breakfast and then head out by myself. Some peace and quiet, twill be nice.
Storms, guests and stallions...
The last 2 days have seen the arrival of Merlelor's first guests since I've been here - 2 Dutch guys, not friends but just happened to both be teachers from the same town. Small world! Sat they arrived and as my last blog details, it was a case of a lot of waiting around that day. The unannounced guests I mentioned ended up leaving about 5 mins before H returned with his guest, but them's the breaks hey.
At least we ended up with a roof over our heads because it stormed that night - a beautiful storm, actually, with bolts of lightning cascading through the faintly pink-tinted skies. Like poetry it was. Shame all I could do was 'ooh' and 'aah' from the car window (which I'd broken only mins before, lucky it didn't actually rain while I was in there), since I was driving with a Romanian-speaking gypsy to the local train station. I was also a little tipsy and really hypo from not doing much until the last 20 mins of the day. And also I get excited with new people. Like a child.
So I entertained myself by chatting non-stop to the weary Dutch guests and sank a few drinks, then hopped off to bed across the rd where one of my fave dogs, Rover, is now staying. I let him stay in my room for the night, he was quite well behaved once he realised the single bed was not for sharing, but became restless early morning and I was worried he would piss on my clothes in impatience... or, perhaps worse, make fleas permanent residents in my room. On top of that, waking to a cold, wet nose sniffing my ass is not the best alarm clock I've ever had. He stays in his kennel now.
Next day was first day of trails for the guests. It was good because H knew where he was going and, although I led because he was on a stallion at the back of the pack, I at least knew he had a destination in mind. We went to a neighbouring village and then back after a rest. More locals stared at me/us. Must be my hair. Or my incredibly irresistible style. Probably that actually.
Starting to wear a little thin with the guests (already!), not quite sure what to make of one of them and was a little unnerved when he asked if there was a boyfriend waiting somewhere for me (why ask??? a little personal I think). Also he's in that in-between stage of riding, where he thinks he can ride but he can just stay on the horse and has no control. The other one is so ghostly white it almost scares me and also has an unusual personality, a bit more sure of himself here because it's about the 5th time he's visited. But he got given my fave horse, Goody, and was a little too rough on him I think. He came off on the first canter (hehe) and after a day of riding, said he was keen to try another horse the next day. Ha!
Now I'm all by my lonesome, bar the gypsies, because they've gone off on a 5-day trek and one of us had to stay behind. I suggested 2 stay behind but the idea was rejected. Not sure why they need 3 guides for 2 guests but anyway... my knee is starting to hurt a little when I walk so I don't mind a break from all-day riding for a couple of days. Glad I don't have to deal one-on-one with weird personality guest men as well. I'm going to try and exercise one of the stallions anyway, so if you don't hear from me ever again, you'll know why. Deep breaths.
At least we ended up with a roof over our heads because it stormed that night - a beautiful storm, actually, with bolts of lightning cascading through the faintly pink-tinted skies. Like poetry it was. Shame all I could do was 'ooh' and 'aah' from the car window (which I'd broken only mins before, lucky it didn't actually rain while I was in there), since I was driving with a Romanian-speaking gypsy to the local train station. I was also a little tipsy and really hypo from not doing much until the last 20 mins of the day. And also I get excited with new people. Like a child.
So I entertained myself by chatting non-stop to the weary Dutch guests and sank a few drinks, then hopped off to bed across the rd where one of my fave dogs, Rover, is now staying. I let him stay in my room for the night, he was quite well behaved once he realised the single bed was not for sharing, but became restless early morning and I was worried he would piss on my clothes in impatience... or, perhaps worse, make fleas permanent residents in my room. On top of that, waking to a cold, wet nose sniffing my ass is not the best alarm clock I've ever had. He stays in his kennel now.
Next day was first day of trails for the guests. It was good because H knew where he was going and, although I led because he was on a stallion at the back of the pack, I at least knew he had a destination in mind. We went to a neighbouring village and then back after a rest. More locals stared at me/us. Must be my hair. Or my incredibly irresistible style. Probably that actually.
Starting to wear a little thin with the guests (already!), not quite sure what to make of one of them and was a little unnerved when he asked if there was a boyfriend waiting somewhere for me (why ask??? a little personal I think). Also he's in that in-between stage of riding, where he thinks he can ride but he can just stay on the horse and has no control. The other one is so ghostly white it almost scares me and also has an unusual personality, a bit more sure of himself here because it's about the 5th time he's visited. But he got given my fave horse, Goody, and was a little too rough on him I think. He came off on the first canter (hehe) and after a day of riding, said he was keen to try another horse the next day. Ha!
Now I'm all by my lonesome, bar the gypsies, because they've gone off on a 5-day trek and one of us had to stay behind. I suggested 2 stay behind but the idea was rejected. Not sure why they need 3 guides for 2 guests but anyway... my knee is starting to hurt a little when I walk so I don't mind a break from all-day riding for a couple of days. Glad I don't have to deal one-on-one with weird personality guest men as well. I'm going to try and exercise one of the stallions anyway, so if you don't hear from me ever again, you'll know why. Deep breaths.
Me and Rover, the sweetie
Saturday, 24 July 2010
Country driving is fun
It's been over a year since I was behind the steering wheel, so I kinda wanted to ease back into the whole driving thing. Not to be the case, as it were, since the only car available to drive in times of need here is a beat-up old SOMETHING, who knows what, that takes a fair few loving turns of the ignition to get going and stalls every time you slow to walking pace. Fun times.
I've now driven it twice and along the same stretch of potholed, ungraded dirt that takes us from the house to the building site, and now I'm sat waiting for H to return so I can drive back and tell the girls whether we need to keep the tents up to sleep in tonight or take them down so the gypos don't steal them in the night.
I should explain, we have rooms but guests have turned up unexpectedly and have been patiently waiting all day for him to ask if there is vacancy. Apparently everywhere else is booked up. So if H does put them up for a couple of days, there is a strong possibility that we'll be shoved out of the guest house and made to sleep in a tent. Which none of us object to, we'll have dogs with us, but it's just the waiting!! I'm stuck here with nothing to do, with these poor guests hoping for a room. And a ride. Which I would soon enuf take them on, but I know nothing about the rates, or the safety procedures or.... wait.... I hear... no, no, it was just a motorbike.
These poor girls will die of thirst before we even hear the whimper of his diesel engine...
I've now driven it twice and along the same stretch of potholed, ungraded dirt that takes us from the house to the building site, and now I'm sat waiting for H to return so I can drive back and tell the girls whether we need to keep the tents up to sleep in tonight or take them down so the gypos don't steal them in the night.
I should explain, we have rooms but guests have turned up unexpectedly and have been patiently waiting all day for him to ask if there is vacancy. Apparently everywhere else is booked up. So if H does put them up for a couple of days, there is a strong possibility that we'll be shoved out of the guest house and made to sleep in a tent. Which none of us object to, we'll have dogs with us, but it's just the waiting!! I'm stuck here with nothing to do, with these poor guests hoping for a room. And a ride. Which I would soon enuf take them on, but I know nothing about the rates, or the safety procedures or.... wait.... I hear... no, no, it was just a motorbike.
These poor girls will die of thirst before we even hear the whimper of his diesel engine...
Thursday, 22 July 2010
And she stacks it...right on her face, face, fac, fa, ffff, ff, f....
Sometimes, when life permits you a brief concession in which to think about your actions to avert crisis, you are forced to make an executive decision. How that decision is carried out, however, is entirely up to the world around you.
Yesterday, in those extra 2 seconds I was given, I made a decision. As I hung sideways from my horse that had just spooked at one of the farm dogs bounding out from a higher bank of grass, I debated which part of my body I wanted to crash-land on. Definitely not my head. That was for sure. Preferably not my shoulder. And not my back. So I'll go for the upper chest area, somewhere cosy like my boob.
As I flung myself from the saddle I made sure I was free from the stirrups so as not to be dragged along by said spooked horse. Tick. Next, my ideal crash-landing position. What I hadn't made room for was my face. And that was exactly what broke my fall. Not quite as elegant and carefree as one may have wanted it to be, but also not quite as painful as it sounds. The grass was kind to me. I just hope the nearby farm hands didn't see me. Embarro.
Now that I have imparted that particular piece of 'J Gone Wild' to humour you for the while, as I'm sure you all miss my company terribly, I'll give a wrap-up of the last few days since my last post.
There was a tiny field mouse scurrying around the living room. H said to let it be and nature would take its course. It did, 2 days later. I found it dead under one of our dinner chairs. The dogs. Aww.
I helped H worm the dogs yesterday, my many years of training with Miffy, Angie and any other dog someone wrangled me into worming flooded back. To the Swedish girls, I was a pro. Yep.
Today we went for an unintentionally long ride in the morning, over 4 hours, and I believe I'm now well acquainted with my limit for one horseride. Yes, indeedy. On top of the fact every part of my body ached and there was no alternative position I could find for my legs on the saddle to rest them, something I ate that morning or last night in Faragas at the pizza place was not going down so well. It was terrible. I was trying to canter home to get there faster but every motion was sending me further into uncomfortable sickness.
Once back, with L leading her horse due to her own sore ass, I clipped my horse in, took off the bridle, threw it down and made for the toilet. The girls thankfully unsaddled my horse on my behalf. After a rest, I'm feeling much better but I tell you, it's a short ride we've planned for this afternoon.
Flies keep fucking all around me. Must be fly mating season. Do they even have a mating season??
Yesterday, in those extra 2 seconds I was given, I made a decision. As I hung sideways from my horse that had just spooked at one of the farm dogs bounding out from a higher bank of grass, I debated which part of my body I wanted to crash-land on. Definitely not my head. That was for sure. Preferably not my shoulder. And not my back. So I'll go for the upper chest area, somewhere cosy like my boob.
As I flung myself from the saddle I made sure I was free from the stirrups so as not to be dragged along by said spooked horse. Tick. Next, my ideal crash-landing position. What I hadn't made room for was my face. And that was exactly what broke my fall. Not quite as elegant and carefree as one may have wanted it to be, but also not quite as painful as it sounds. The grass was kind to me. I just hope the nearby farm hands didn't see me. Embarro.
Now that I have imparted that particular piece of 'J Gone Wild' to humour you for the while, as I'm sure you all miss my company terribly, I'll give a wrap-up of the last few days since my last post.
There was a tiny field mouse scurrying around the living room. H said to let it be and nature would take its course. It did, 2 days later. I found it dead under one of our dinner chairs. The dogs. Aww.
I helped H worm the dogs yesterday, my many years of training with Miffy, Angie and any other dog someone wrangled me into worming flooded back. To the Swedish girls, I was a pro. Yep.
Today we went for an unintentionally long ride in the morning, over 4 hours, and I believe I'm now well acquainted with my limit for one horseride. Yes, indeedy. On top of the fact every part of my body ached and there was no alternative position I could find for my legs on the saddle to rest them, something I ate that morning or last night in Faragas at the pizza place was not going down so well. It was terrible. I was trying to canter home to get there faster but every motion was sending me further into uncomfortable sickness.
Once back, with L leading her horse due to her own sore ass, I clipped my horse in, took off the bridle, threw it down and made for the toilet. The girls thankfully unsaddled my horse on my behalf. After a rest, I'm feeling much better but I tell you, it's a short ride we've planned for this afternoon.
Flies keep fucking all around me. Must be fly mating season. Do they even have a mating season??
Sunday, 18 July 2010
Crazed Aussie takes Swedish girls hostage in Transylvania
Well, kind of... Yesterday I did manage to be possibly the worst trail guide in history when Hubert entrusted me to take the newly arrived Swedish girls out on a ride. We got back reasonably late from the airport and it was past 7 before we headed out and in 2.5 hours I managed to get us completely lost in the forest before finding a trail back to home soil. And as the sun went down, I tell you, I fully realised just how the werewolf tales came to be... that is some scary shit.
It wasn't so much the forest itself that's scary, it's the possibility of running into a bear, or a (regular) wolf or even shepherd dogs - they're the scariest because they're always around. The bear and wolf thing is more unlikely but because it was getting dark I thought it might've been feeding time. And it wasn't so much us I was worried about, it was the 4 week old foal that was running alongside its mummy as we rode. Cute as a button but a walking meat on a stick for any nighttime predators. So I smile away as I went down wrong turn after wrong turn - who knew my theory of "you just go down" was a little waylaid when you're surrounded by gullies - and eventually found my way.
Truth be told, it was actually one of my funniest rides ever, given I was on my new fave horse Goody, he was a killer bushbasher (ran into an itchy tree or annoying insect at one pt and had to quickly disembark before he rolled on top of me) and made those steep gullies his bitch. And anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE a good bushbash on horseback. It was only afterwards I found out one of the Swedish girls didn't like going downhill. Doesn't mind so much now :) Welcome to the Wilson School of Riding.
Oh, and yesterday I think I saw a dead teenage boy on the side of the road. I think he got hit by a car. There were police etc but they were just standing around looking at his body, which was sprawled in an awkward position on the sidewalk (no blood though). Heavy.
Today, being Sunday, we took a horseback stroll to the neighbouring village. The four of us found a shop (ie a hole in the backyard of someone's house that had cold beer and chips - super sweet), had a couple of cold'uns and jumped back on to head home as it started to pour. All good, though, it was a welcome change to sunlight and warded the mozzies off if only for a short while.
When we got back, H took the most vicious dog off its rope to introduce it to us (it was lovely) then one of the other dogs started it and I witnessed my first hectic dog fight. One was attached mouth to neck, the other mouth to leg.... shudder. I didn't know whether to jump in and help or just stand - I chose the latter. Maybe next time I'll help. Maybe.
It wasn't so much the forest itself that's scary, it's the possibility of running into a bear, or a (regular) wolf or even shepherd dogs - they're the scariest because they're always around. The bear and wolf thing is more unlikely but because it was getting dark I thought it might've been feeding time. And it wasn't so much us I was worried about, it was the 4 week old foal that was running alongside its mummy as we rode. Cute as a button but a walking meat on a stick for any nighttime predators. So I smile away as I went down wrong turn after wrong turn - who knew my theory of "you just go down" was a little waylaid when you're surrounded by gullies - and eventually found my way.
Truth be told, it was actually one of my funniest rides ever, given I was on my new fave horse Goody, he was a killer bushbasher (ran into an itchy tree or annoying insect at one pt and had to quickly disembark before he rolled on top of me) and made those steep gullies his bitch. And anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE a good bushbash on horseback. It was only afterwards I found out one of the Swedish girls didn't like going downhill. Doesn't mind so much now :) Welcome to the Wilson School of Riding.
Oh, and yesterday I think I saw a dead teenage boy on the side of the road. I think he got hit by a car. There were police etc but they were just standing around looking at his body, which was sprawled in an awkward position on the sidewalk (no blood though). Heavy.
Today, being Sunday, we took a horseback stroll to the neighbouring village. The four of us found a shop (ie a hole in the backyard of someone's house that had cold beer and chips - super sweet), had a couple of cold'uns and jumped back on to head home as it started to pour. All good, though, it was a welcome change to sunlight and warded the mozzies off if only for a short while.
When we got back, H took the most vicious dog off its rope to introduce it to us (it was lovely) then one of the other dogs started it and I witnessed my first hectic dog fight. One was attached mouth to neck, the other mouth to leg.... shudder. I didn't know whether to jump in and help or just stand - I chose the latter. Maybe next time I'll help. Maybe.
Friday, 16 July 2010
In the hands of the gypsies
I think one of the gypo lads has a crush on me. That, or his incessant staring at me yesterday was a mixture of curiosity and possibly bewilderment. Not quite sure they shower that often so I think I'll steer well clear of that little situation.
It's weird, the girls don't really know what to think of me because I'm kinda equal to the boss because I am just here to exercise the horses so they still wait on me. I feel slack so I like to saddle my own horse and make some of my own food but it is nice to sit down to a pot of tea and plate of food every morning. And not have to clean up. Or wash my own clothes. Or feed the horses. Just ride. Super sweet.
It's now day 3 and I'm still really enjoying my time in Transylvania, Romania. H has started to trust me to do whatever I want, so today I went out riding solo while he went to the shops. I went for a couple of hours but it was getting stinking hot so retired about midday. The horse was about to die I swear. I would've followed soon after, but with my ultra-trendy straw cowboy hat I was pulled from the brink of heat exhaustion. I'm tempted to tape my conversations with the horse (or just ramblings to the horse) while I ride by myself, even I find it quite entertaining at times. Lucky I encounter absolutely no one else on my rides.
This morning I was awoken by scratching at my door and, holding my breath it wasn't rabid gypsies, I opened it to find 4 happy dogs bounding in to say good morning. Much nicer than an alarm!! They're so sweet. There are about 20 dogs on the property here and almost all are lovely, I'm getting to know their names and personalities. Bertis came with me today which is good cos I am a bit worried about encountering the shepherds' dogs alone.
We pick up the 2 Swedish girls on Sat, which will be good - I'll have some company and we can go swimming in the river down the rd. Also, in a couple of weeks I want to start getting the younger horses out to a flat paddock to do some ground work with them. Maybe take some of them swimming. Fun times.
It's weird, the girls don't really know what to think of me because I'm kinda equal to the boss because I am just here to exercise the horses so they still wait on me. I feel slack so I like to saddle my own horse and make some of my own food but it is nice to sit down to a pot of tea and plate of food every morning. And not have to clean up. Or wash my own clothes. Or feed the horses. Just ride. Super sweet.
It's now day 3 and I'm still really enjoying my time in Transylvania, Romania. H has started to trust me to do whatever I want, so today I went out riding solo while he went to the shops. I went for a couple of hours but it was getting stinking hot so retired about midday. The horse was about to die I swear. I would've followed soon after, but with my ultra-trendy straw cowboy hat I was pulled from the brink of heat exhaustion. I'm tempted to tape my conversations with the horse (or just ramblings to the horse) while I ride by myself, even I find it quite entertaining at times. Lucky I encounter absolutely no one else on my rides.
This morning I was awoken by scratching at my door and, holding my breath it wasn't rabid gypsies, I opened it to find 4 happy dogs bounding in to say good morning. Much nicer than an alarm!! They're so sweet. There are about 20 dogs on the property here and almost all are lovely, I'm getting to know their names and personalities. Bertis came with me today which is good cos I am a bit worried about encountering the shepherds' dogs alone.
We pick up the 2 Swedish girls on Sat, which will be good - I'll have some company and we can go swimming in the river down the rd. Also, in a couple of weeks I want to start getting the younger horses out to a flat paddock to do some ground work with them. Maybe take some of them swimming. Fun times.
Thursday, 15 July 2010
First Day in Romania
After my pretty decent ride into Brasov, Romania, I then had to wait 3 hours for the next bus to Fagaras. A guy offered me a taxi for 20 euros (SO kind) but I declined and instead paid about £1.50 for my bus. H, my host in Romania, rang me and arranged to be at the bus stop when I got there so I was safely picked up and escorted to the farm.
There, I was met with 20 dogs (mostly chained up due to their balls not being cut off and therefore the frequent tendency to rip each other's throats out) and a stable full of horseys as well as some gypo woman doing the chores. I was fed, watered and then jumped on a horse to go exploring. A few hours later, legs feeling like I'd spent a night in an Amsterdam whorehouse, I disembarked and we sat down for some beers. A truly welcome accompaniment to a heavy day.
The gypos keep asking H in Romanian whether my hair is real. And that they want it. I hope they don't steal it in my sleep.
There, I was met with 20 dogs (mostly chained up due to their balls not being cut off and therefore the frequent tendency to rip each other's throats out) and a stable full of horseys as well as some gypo woman doing the chores. I was fed, watered and then jumped on a horse to go exploring. A few hours later, legs feeling like I'd spent a night in an Amsterdam whorehouse, I disembarked and we sat down for some beers. A truly welcome accompaniment to a heavy day.
The gypos keep asking H in Romanian whether my hair is real. And that they want it. I hope they don't steal it in my sleep.
Enter Exit, Enter Drunken Poms
It's been a while between blog drinks for me, and as unlikely as I would have pinned it to be, I am actually pre-writing this little puppy in my own 6 bed sleeper carriage on the way to Brasov in Romania. Which has AC, an electronics plug and oh yeah, did I mention NO ONE else in it??? Super, super sweet.
So I've just left Budapest from Exit festival in Serbia, having come back for one night in Budapest to gather the things C so kindly let me store at his house. Geez, I could NOT imagine trekking to Exit with all that shit. Worst backpacker ever. Not the only time I'll say that.
Exit festival... what an experience! I met my coach at Ferighay airport in Budapest and it was at that point I realised just how many Poms I'd be surrounded with. God give me strength. Six hours into the ride to Serbia and they're already whining they need the toilet, they need a cigarette, they need some weed, they need a drink - they need a steaming hot glass of shut the hell up, is what they need. At board control, my passport is the only non-EU one and it gets queried like I'm some friend from across the waters with three arms and four legs. It furthers holds up our coach. The Poms still aren't happy. Surprise.
Anyway, after so many unhappy thoughts clouded my mind for these few, uh, interesting hours on the bus, I ended up making friends with the loveliest couple of Brits who were even more clueless than me when we got dropped off not at the actual festival but the local town. The bus driver clearly not interested and not trained in one word of English, tells us all to clear off (to be fair, he wasn't a prick, he was actually the most entertaining one on the bus as he jollily sang along to his favourite Serbian tunes) and we were stuck looking around for the nearest sign, bank, cab or, for some, pub.
I took initiative - this couple was already treating me like I knew what I was doing - and while everyone clambered around trying to order or hail cabs, I spotted a man wearing an Exit-ish lanyard and got the thumbs-up from him to get a free lift to the camping ground. Turns out he's run the Chinese food stall for the last four years. Champion.
So we were in. I pitched my £10 Tesco tent (bargain) in the couple's group of friends - all happy-go-lucky young'uns from north of London - and we had a wander around. That night and the following night only the camping ground - Exit Village - was open but it was a great start to the (almost) week in the vicinity. People immediately started bonding and almost everyone was in great spirits and not yet twatting it up. I say almost everyone because at one point, while I danced past some guys I'd met in Budapest before, one decided it would be super fun to spit his drink on me, then as he was about to try again, I grabbed his friend's drink and threw it on him. No doubt he thought that was a rather amusing thing to do. I wasn't quite so happy. So you'll notice in some of my photos I have massive drink spillage on my yellow top. Yeah, not my fault. I henceforth actively discouraged any of my camp from associated with them and when we bought a paddling pool from town, forbid them from entering it.
At one point I went with my Brit friends to the local beach which had a great social area to chill out in. The most beautiful part of it, however, was the people. My GOSH Serbian girls are hot!! I even snuck a couple of pics of the greatest ass I have ever seen. I think they were all students on break. I'd like to teach them a thing or two eh eh. We also went into town for dinner and to check out the local nightlife, which was great since Exit was on. I made friends with the 2nd cutest dog (after Angie of course) I've even seen. There are so many dogs around that don't exactly look or act like strays that festival-goers keep adopting. Hmmm.
A few mates from London, mostly Aussies, rocked up as well and so then I had two groups of lovely people to party with. Every night of the festival I went in with my Aussie friends and then during the day I chilled in town, at the beach or at the camping site with my Britons. First night we played drinking games beforehand and half the group ended up tragically wasted while the others held their ground. I was in the latter group so at one point, after seeing some of LCD Soundsystem (boring) and Mika (not much better), and wandering around trying to check out the grounds solo after losing everyone, I was over it and went home. On the way home I met a guy who had lost his shoes and said he was biking across Europe - well impressed with that effort. He bought me a beer which I shortly after realised I didn't want and donated it to a newly made Liverpudlian friend who I spoke to until the sun came up (which was about 4:30am).
Second night was less exciting on the roster front, but Placebo was playing so I was pumped. Made it in there after drinking a fair bit beforehand and by the time I met up with a journalist friend, I was well and truly plastered (2 lt beers for £2 will do that to one's state of mind) - which I found quite amusing and him, frustrating because he was sober. And also jealous I guess cos I found almost everyone else more entertaining company than him. But, unlike most of the press people I ran into, I wasn't keen on spending all my time in VIP and guest areas. I was one of the people man. Salute. At one point, I "lost" the journos I was hanging with and made my way home - scoring a lift with a local on his motorbike up the final hill which I actually could not face. I would have rather slept at the bottom of it.
Third night was more productive on the line-up, with Klaxons, Royksopp, Missy Elliott, David Guetta and the Midnight Juggernauts scheduled. After dancing up a storm to the first two, I was super eager for Miss Demeanour but, as I've so often heard, she came on late, sang little, talked a lot, let her dancers have extended solos, left before the end of her slot and let her DJ end it, and even gave a spot to her next protege who I can't even remember the name of. What a crock. For all her amazing back catalogue, she sang pretty much samples of her biggest hits and I reckon the total amount of time actually spent "performing" was about 15 mins. Oh Missy, why do you let me down so? So that, along with the gathering narkiness of the crowd, started putting me in a bad mood. On top of that, my throat was killing, I could hardly speak, I had a nasty cough and one look at the Guetta crowd told me I was in no state to enter that realm. I could still hear the set at the camp anyway!
I looked forward to the final night with quiet trepidation, thinking it would be the third night in a row I'd grow tired of the festival scene. Fearing I'd finally started to grow up, I was determined to prove myself wrong and went in early with the Aussie crew to catch the final of the World Cup with energy to boot. I told myself I wouldn't drink or if I did, it wouldn't be beer. Five minutes later, pint in hand, I was in the tiny sector of Spanish supporters (a friend we were with was half Spanish) while the Dutch screamed all around us. I left at halftime to catch Pendulum and I'm so glad I did. Not only was the game a no-score until additional time, but Pendulum absolutely rocked it and put me in a stellar mood for the rest of the evening. Knowing I'd never meet the others again, I made friends with a couple of cool Aussie girls and we watched Faith No More and Chemical Brothers, then went to a chillout area before calling it a night. Success! Fun had.
I was due to wake at 10am next day, but once again the searing heat forced everyone out of their tents (those who had made it into tents, that is) and I was so sick of constantly sweating that I was showered, packed and into town by 10am. I managed to wrangle a spot on the earlier coach and was back in Budapest just four hours later. Thank god! Went to C's house, got a few things then we went to his other place, I showered and passed out in bed, woke up a few hours later then after cooking dinner for him and his friend, tried to watch a movie to no avail and went to bed, and tried to sleep in the middle-of-the-night heat. Maaaaan I'd kill for a swimming pool!!!!
So I've just left Budapest from Exit festival in Serbia, having come back for one night in Budapest to gather the things C so kindly let me store at his house. Geez, I could NOT imagine trekking to Exit with all that shit. Worst backpacker ever. Not the only time I'll say that.
Exit festival... what an experience! I met my coach at Ferighay airport in Budapest and it was at that point I realised just how many Poms I'd be surrounded with. God give me strength. Six hours into the ride to Serbia and they're already whining they need the toilet, they need a cigarette, they need some weed, they need a drink - they need a steaming hot glass of shut the hell up, is what they need. At board control, my passport is the only non-EU one and it gets queried like I'm some friend from across the waters with three arms and four legs. It furthers holds up our coach. The Poms still aren't happy. Surprise.
Anyway, after so many unhappy thoughts clouded my mind for these few, uh, interesting hours on the bus, I ended up making friends with the loveliest couple of Brits who were even more clueless than me when we got dropped off not at the actual festival but the local town. The bus driver clearly not interested and not trained in one word of English, tells us all to clear off (to be fair, he wasn't a prick, he was actually the most entertaining one on the bus as he jollily sang along to his favourite Serbian tunes) and we were stuck looking around for the nearest sign, bank, cab or, for some, pub.
I took initiative - this couple was already treating me like I knew what I was doing - and while everyone clambered around trying to order or hail cabs, I spotted a man wearing an Exit-ish lanyard and got the thumbs-up from him to get a free lift to the camping ground. Turns out he's run the Chinese food stall for the last four years. Champion.
So we were in. I pitched my £10 Tesco tent (bargain) in the couple's group of friends - all happy-go-lucky young'uns from north of London - and we had a wander around. That night and the following night only the camping ground - Exit Village - was open but it was a great start to the (almost) week in the vicinity. People immediately started bonding and almost everyone was in great spirits and not yet twatting it up. I say almost everyone because at one point, while I danced past some guys I'd met in Budapest before, one decided it would be super fun to spit his drink on me, then as he was about to try again, I grabbed his friend's drink and threw it on him. No doubt he thought that was a rather amusing thing to do. I wasn't quite so happy. So you'll notice in some of my photos I have massive drink spillage on my yellow top. Yeah, not my fault. I henceforth actively discouraged any of my camp from associated with them and when we bought a paddling pool from town, forbid them from entering it.
At one point I went with my Brit friends to the local beach which had a great social area to chill out in. The most beautiful part of it, however, was the people. My GOSH Serbian girls are hot!! I even snuck a couple of pics of the greatest ass I have ever seen. I think they were all students on break. I'd like to teach them a thing or two eh eh. We also went into town for dinner and to check out the local nightlife, which was great since Exit was on. I made friends with the 2nd cutest dog (after Angie of course) I've even seen. There are so many dogs around that don't exactly look or act like strays that festival-goers keep adopting. Hmmm.
A few mates from London, mostly Aussies, rocked up as well and so then I had two groups of lovely people to party with. Every night of the festival I went in with my Aussie friends and then during the day I chilled in town, at the beach or at the camping site with my Britons. First night we played drinking games beforehand and half the group ended up tragically wasted while the others held their ground. I was in the latter group so at one point, after seeing some of LCD Soundsystem (boring) and Mika (not much better), and wandering around trying to check out the grounds solo after losing everyone, I was over it and went home. On the way home I met a guy who had lost his shoes and said he was biking across Europe - well impressed with that effort. He bought me a beer which I shortly after realised I didn't want and donated it to a newly made Liverpudlian friend who I spoke to until the sun came up (which was about 4:30am).
Second night was less exciting on the roster front, but Placebo was playing so I was pumped. Made it in there after drinking a fair bit beforehand and by the time I met up with a journalist friend, I was well and truly plastered (2 lt beers for £2 will do that to one's state of mind) - which I found quite amusing and him, frustrating because he was sober. And also jealous I guess cos I found almost everyone else more entertaining company than him. But, unlike most of the press people I ran into, I wasn't keen on spending all my time in VIP and guest areas. I was one of the people man. Salute. At one point, I "lost" the journos I was hanging with and made my way home - scoring a lift with a local on his motorbike up the final hill which I actually could not face. I would have rather slept at the bottom of it.
Third night was more productive on the line-up, with Klaxons, Royksopp, Missy Elliott, David Guetta and the Midnight Juggernauts scheduled. After dancing up a storm to the first two, I was super eager for Miss Demeanour but, as I've so often heard, she came on late, sang little, talked a lot, let her dancers have extended solos, left before the end of her slot and let her DJ end it, and even gave a spot to her next protege who I can't even remember the name of. What a crock. For all her amazing back catalogue, she sang pretty much samples of her biggest hits and I reckon the total amount of time actually spent "performing" was about 15 mins. Oh Missy, why do you let me down so? So that, along with the gathering narkiness of the crowd, started putting me in a bad mood. On top of that, my throat was killing, I could hardly speak, I had a nasty cough and one look at the Guetta crowd told me I was in no state to enter that realm. I could still hear the set at the camp anyway!
I looked forward to the final night with quiet trepidation, thinking it would be the third night in a row I'd grow tired of the festival scene. Fearing I'd finally started to grow up, I was determined to prove myself wrong and went in early with the Aussie crew to catch the final of the World Cup with energy to boot. I told myself I wouldn't drink or if I did, it wouldn't be beer. Five minutes later, pint in hand, I was in the tiny sector of Spanish supporters (a friend we were with was half Spanish) while the Dutch screamed all around us. I left at halftime to catch Pendulum and I'm so glad I did. Not only was the game a no-score until additional time, but Pendulum absolutely rocked it and put me in a stellar mood for the rest of the evening. Knowing I'd never meet the others again, I made friends with a couple of cool Aussie girls and we watched Faith No More and Chemical Brothers, then went to a chillout area before calling it a night. Success! Fun had.
I was due to wake at 10am next day, but once again the searing heat forced everyone out of their tents (those who had made it into tents, that is) and I was so sick of constantly sweating that I was showered, packed and into town by 10am. I managed to wrangle a spot on the earlier coach and was back in Budapest just four hours later. Thank god! Went to C's house, got a few things then we went to his other place, I showered and passed out in bed, woke up a few hours later then after cooking dinner for him and his friend, tried to watch a movie to no avail and went to bed, and tried to sleep in the middle-of-the-night heat. Maaaaan I'd kill for a swimming pool!!!!
Sunday, 4 July 2010
More travel planning - Hungary to Romania...
On another note, I think I've found not only a cheaper but more efficient mode of transport to the farm in Romania. From Budapest I think I'll go to Oradea, just inside the border of Romania, and then get another train directly to Brasov. That one will be the killer but I will just get a sleeper and pop a sleeping pill... Unless I have to travel during the day, which I may have to in order to get into Fagaras at a decent hour for the Dutch couple to pick me up. Hmmm.
Oh well, i'll figure that out soon enuf - just happy I have found an alternative way to going all the way to Bucharest!!! 15 hours that would've taken, and cost about £45 without the sleeper - screw that!
Oh well, i'll figure that out soon enuf - just happy I have found an alternative way to going all the way to Bucharest!!! 15 hours that would've taken, and cost about £45 without the sleeper - screw that!
Buda has the best soup
To further expand on last night's drunken escapades... I met a nice Persian guy who was also alone, we checked out Mumus together then went to his for a not common cigarette. The Europeans love their not common cigarettes! Was pretty chilled out, I stayed for a couple of beers then headed back. Turns out C's house is about 10 mins walk from the party district. Nice. Speaking of partying, I just remembered I bought a bottle of white (for less than a pound) that I need to tuck into... un momento...
OK, that's better. So what was I saying? Ahh yes, last night was remarkably quiet and those people I did hear about the streets were largely British with a splash of Aussie. Suffice to say I wasn't too keen to socialise. So I bid my new friend adieu and went on my merry way.
Today I was expecting C home from Romania in the morning but when he didn't show by lunch I took myself off on an exploration of the city, seeing the sights I hadn't yet seen. A few hours later I found myself in Buda, the posh side of the river with amazing views and beautiful architecture. Much more imperial than Pest (and for those who are wondering, yes the city is divided by a river with 2 cities Buda and Pest). The highlight was sitting at a lush restaurant drinking yummy white wine and eating probably the most amazing cauliflower soup I'm ever likely to eat. And even being at an 'expensive' place, I still walked away having paid just over £10 for the lot. The low point was finding out I just missed this fantastic horse show that only runs over the weekend (www.epona.hu). Poo.
Oh, and watching the Eastern European chicks rock Super Skank Chic and try to negotiate the cobble stone footpaths and steep stairs before striking a sexy pose at every opportunity. Not sure if that was a high point or low.
So now I'm just chillin out, putting my sore feet up and waiting for a) C to get home, b) F to msg me for a drink, c) go out by myself or d) to get too tired to do anything.
OK, that's better. So what was I saying? Ahh yes, last night was remarkably quiet and those people I did hear about the streets were largely British with a splash of Aussie. Suffice to say I wasn't too keen to socialise. So I bid my new friend adieu and went on my merry way.
Today I was expecting C home from Romania in the morning but when he didn't show by lunch I took myself off on an exploration of the city, seeing the sights I hadn't yet seen. A few hours later I found myself in Buda, the posh side of the river with amazing views and beautiful architecture. Much more imperial than Pest (and for those who are wondering, yes the city is divided by a river with 2 cities Buda and Pest). The highlight was sitting at a lush restaurant drinking yummy white wine and eating probably the most amazing cauliflower soup I'm ever likely to eat. And even being at an 'expensive' place, I still walked away having paid just over £10 for the lot. The low point was finding out I just missed this fantastic horse show that only runs over the weekend (www.epona.hu). Poo.
Oh, and watching the Eastern European chicks rock Super Skank Chic and try to negotiate the cobble stone footpaths and steep stairs before striking a sexy pose at every opportunity. Not sure if that was a high point or low.
So now I'm just chillin out, putting my sore feet up and waiting for a) C to get home, b) F to msg me for a drink, c) go out by myself or d) to get too tired to do anything.
Saturday, 3 July 2010
Drunken blog
OK, so I don't usually blog whilst drunk but I think that is kinda when I'm most entertaining so... let's see. Not that much happened tonite but I got the check out some cool bars... did a bit of research prior to said event and so caught some interesting bars but none more so than Mumus. Also set in a bombeed-out building like Szimpla, it had a second storey with all these random rooms that basically still looked like a house. Kitchen, living room, etc all clearly still looking like that but not.
Anyway i keep forgetting i'm blogging and I think I may pass out soon. Also, started talking to some peeps on fb (yeah that's right, I abbreviated). So they can keep me company. For the time being.
Will write tomorrow maybe.... when I make sense. Ahh shit, when will that be?????
Anyway i keep forgetting i'm blogging and I think I may pass out soon. Also, started talking to some peeps on fb (yeah that's right, I abbreviated). So they can keep me company. For the time being.
Will write tomorrow maybe.... when I make sense. Ahh shit, when will that be?????
Next job opp - teaching English in Eastern Europe??
Oh, and I forgot to mention that during my time with the American and the Canadian, I started talking to this other American guy who'd lived in Hungary for 9 years and owned an English speaking school. Apparently he has teachers who are mostly based in Budapest that he send to some other Hungarian city, Vienna in Austria and Slovakia (or was it Slovenia??) to teach. Pay sounds half decent... got his details so I think I'll keep him in mind post-Romanian horse farm...
An apartment to myself in Budapest? Don't mind if I do!!
After the hectic mission to get to Budapest, I was absolutely spent and slept in late the next day. Actually, I've been here 3 days and I've done that continuously so maybe I'm just a lazy mo fo :)
To be fair, yesterday was my bday and I was up doing various things until almost 6am. So give me a break. It was an interesting bday actually... I woke up next to a rather fine specimen (don't mind if I do) so I already had a smile on my face. Then we went to his mate's house who apparently just cooks for him cos he's useless, had a feed, smoke, drink then went on our merry way.
Well, that merriment soon faded as I trekked around the city behind the big man as he did little errands and my dreams of getting to the river slipped from my hands. I got grumpy and a little sad from missing my family and friends on my bday so (after apologising which apparently he just DOES NOT DO so I should be thankful????) he took me to the water and dropped me somewhere I'd probably enjoy myself. Won't see him again til Sunday morning but I got the keys to his apartment so I'm not too upset really ;)
Took me all over 5 mins to find new friends - an American guy and Canadian girl - who were nice, the American was (unsurprisingly) a little irritating and always trying to debate every point we made, particularly on his views on bigotry and sexism. Back the truck up mate. Anyway, we wandered around the island (place in between Buda and Pest with a few clubs that weren't really kicking into gear yet), and then headed towards a strobe light in the middle of town. Turns out it was a really bad dance club filled with over 40s going mental to it. Hilarious but also a little scary.
Then I met up with a new Couchsurfing friends who is actually Hungarian and knows some cool bars, so we walked (luckily towards my place) and found Simpla this really cool bar made out of a building that was bombed so it had no roof in the middle and an open drinking area. Tried to get photos but my camera is shit. End of story. Made friends with some Swedish guys, one of which was a bit sweet on me I think but nada. Not interested. But yeah, B walked me home and I entertained myself in my little flat (seriously, who would've thought I'd be flitting around my own apartment in Budapest a couple of months ago in London???) before collapsing for a mega sleep-in. Ahhh yeah...
Now off to explore the park and get some FOOD. Man, I'm hungry. And I should get dressed.
To be fair, yesterday was my bday and I was up doing various things until almost 6am. So give me a break. It was an interesting bday actually... I woke up next to a rather fine specimen (don't mind if I do) so I already had a smile on my face. Then we went to his mate's house who apparently just cooks for him cos he's useless, had a feed, smoke, drink then went on our merry way.
Well, that merriment soon faded as I trekked around the city behind the big man as he did little errands and my dreams of getting to the river slipped from my hands. I got grumpy and a little sad from missing my family and friends on my bday so (after apologising which apparently he just DOES NOT DO so I should be thankful????) he took me to the water and dropped me somewhere I'd probably enjoy myself. Won't see him again til Sunday morning but I got the keys to his apartment so I'm not too upset really ;)
Took me all over 5 mins to find new friends - an American guy and Canadian girl - who were nice, the American was (unsurprisingly) a little irritating and always trying to debate every point we made, particularly on his views on bigotry and sexism. Back the truck up mate. Anyway, we wandered around the island (place in between Buda and Pest with a few clubs that weren't really kicking into gear yet), and then headed towards a strobe light in the middle of town. Turns out it was a really bad dance club filled with over 40s going mental to it. Hilarious but also a little scary.
Then I met up with a new Couchsurfing friends who is actually Hungarian and knows some cool bars, so we walked (luckily towards my place) and found Simpla this really cool bar made out of a building that was bombed so it had no roof in the middle and an open drinking area. Tried to get photos but my camera is shit. End of story. Made friends with some Swedish guys, one of which was a bit sweet on me I think but nada. Not interested. But yeah, B walked me home and I entertained myself in my little flat (seriously, who would've thought I'd be flitting around my own apartment in Budapest a couple of months ago in London???) before collapsing for a mega sleep-in. Ahhh yeah...
Now off to explore the park and get some FOOD. Man, I'm hungry. And I should get dressed.
Thursday, 1 July 2010
Impressions of Portugal
I know I should do this for France, maybe I will when I have time, but after each country I want to give some brief thought to the culture I absorbed whilst there. And if this is boring reading, tough, this blog is my diary too so I need to remember my thoughts! But I still love you for reading. And caring. My darlings.
Portugal, what a place! The cities have a derelict charm about them, Lisbon and Porto especially, and me being someone who loves derelict buildings, I was in heaven! But it is sad when you think about the stories that must be behind these abandoned buildings. Also, it drags down the entire infrastructure of the city. One building falls, the others are dragged down too. It has something to do with fixed rents causing landlords to have no money to repair buildings, the economic situation of Portugal and no governmental plan for regeneration of the city. Regardless, I think it certainly gives these cities a unique ruggedness.
The people are quite lovely, although I am going to say not quite as attractive as I was hoping - I guess the Portuguese football team isn't quite a good standard to set one's self. Still, I guess that's made me more focused on other things during my stay - like seeing the (non-human) sights and enjoying the company of friends, new and old. And they go out SO LATE! Seriously, like some of them never leave before 1:30am - craziness!!
Lagos has been bastardised by the English, Irish and Australians that flock to its shores every summer. It is hard to find any local cuisine beyond sardines and there is absolutely no chance of learning Portuguese whilst there. I'd be surprised if any tourists came out of that town knowing the slightest bit about Portuguese history or traditions. As it was, the Aussie I befriended in my hostel was being taught about local customs by ME! I am certainly glad I did my traveling the way I did in Portugal.
Portugal, what a place! The cities have a derelict charm about them, Lisbon and Porto especially, and me being someone who loves derelict buildings, I was in heaven! But it is sad when you think about the stories that must be behind these abandoned buildings. Also, it drags down the entire infrastructure of the city. One building falls, the others are dragged down too. It has something to do with fixed rents causing landlords to have no money to repair buildings, the economic situation of Portugal and no governmental plan for regeneration of the city. Regardless, I think it certainly gives these cities a unique ruggedness.
The people are quite lovely, although I am going to say not quite as attractive as I was hoping - I guess the Portuguese football team isn't quite a good standard to set one's self. Still, I guess that's made me more focused on other things during my stay - like seeing the (non-human) sights and enjoying the company of friends, new and old. And they go out SO LATE! Seriously, like some of them never leave before 1:30am - craziness!!
Lagos has been bastardised by the English, Irish and Australians that flock to its shores every summer. It is hard to find any local cuisine beyond sardines and there is absolutely no chance of learning Portuguese whilst there. I'd be surprised if any tourists came out of that town knowing the slightest bit about Portuguese history or traditions. As it was, the Aussie I befriended in my hostel was being taught about local customs by ME! I am certainly glad I did my traveling the way I did in Portugal.
My Spanish airport mission
The Airport Mission
I should expand a little on my experience at Madrid airport, because I find it quite funny and it is a perfect example of being in Spain.
So after I was interviewed in Porto airport by Timeout Porto (random) I jumped onto my (late) flight to Madrid and when I get there, I see two signs pointing opposite directions to baggage claim. I choose right. Walking almost 10 minutes with my somewhat heavy hand luggage (I had to take some weight off my backpack for it to be checked in), I come out to a cafeteria area. No baggage.
Scratching my head, I turn back and finally figure that it's downstairs. Baggage claim. Empty. Had it been windy down there I would've seen a hay bail. I try to explain to the lone staffer down there I'd just come from Porto and needed my baggage. He points to follow these other guys out and says '1' - I realise I've walked almost to Terminal 3 and it's back at Terminal 1. Where is the signage?? For fuck's sake.
I walk back to T1 and when I get there, I see everyone from my flight coming out from arrivals - the guy downstairs had sent me to collect my friend from a flight and I was stuck outside, with my luggage inside. Great. The lost & found lady says I need to knock on the door next to arrivals but I get no answer. Luckily, being useless in one area usually means you're useless in others, so I was able to walk back into arrivals undetected by security (because there was none) to get my bags from the carousel. The same guys followed me and got their bags too - phew, at least I wasn't the only one!!
THEN... just when I thought my nightmare was over... Wizz Air, the delightful cheap airline that it is, couldn't actually start the plane and got us all the disembark while they ran around flailing their arms and we walked I swear the entire length of the airport (3x) before being told to go back to the gate and re-board. I've never been told 'welcome back' on a plane before!
Anyway, long story short (well, it's still long but hey youj're still reading) I finally got to Budapest just before 3am. The poor Couchsurfer I had organised a bed with had to get up to let me in about 4 in, but after he kinda woke up, we had a not normal cigarette, he opened a bottle of champers, we tucked into that and then retired... kinda................. Needless to say, I'm still quite tired today.
I should expand a little on my experience at Madrid airport, because I find it quite funny and it is a perfect example of being in Spain.
So after I was interviewed in Porto airport by Timeout Porto (random) I jumped onto my (late) flight to Madrid and when I get there, I see two signs pointing opposite directions to baggage claim. I choose right. Walking almost 10 minutes with my somewhat heavy hand luggage (I had to take some weight off my backpack for it to be checked in), I come out to a cafeteria area. No baggage.
Scratching my head, I turn back and finally figure that it's downstairs. Baggage claim. Empty. Had it been windy down there I would've seen a hay bail. I try to explain to the lone staffer down there I'd just come from Porto and needed my baggage. He points to follow these other guys out and says '1' - I realise I've walked almost to Terminal 3 and it's back at Terminal 1. Where is the signage?? For fuck's sake.
I walk back to T1 and when I get there, I see everyone from my flight coming out from arrivals - the guy downstairs had sent me to collect my friend from a flight and I was stuck outside, with my luggage inside. Great. The lost & found lady says I need to knock on the door next to arrivals but I get no answer. Luckily, being useless in one area usually means you're useless in others, so I was able to walk back into arrivals undetected by security (because there was none) to get my bags from the carousel. The same guys followed me and got their bags too - phew, at least I wasn't the only one!!
THEN... just when I thought my nightmare was over... Wizz Air, the delightful cheap airline that it is, couldn't actually start the plane and got us all the disembark while they ran around flailing their arms and we walked I swear the entire length of the airport (3x) before being told to go back to the gate and re-board. I've never been told 'welcome back' on a plane before!
Anyway, long story short (well, it's still long but hey youj're still reading) I finally got to Budapest just before 3am. The poor Couchsurfer I had organised a bed with had to get up to let me in about 4 in, but after he kinda woke up, we had a not normal cigarette, he opened a bottle of champers, we tucked into that and then retired... kinda................. Needless to say, I'm still quite tired today.
Last days in Porto
Now that we've gotten the awkward old man situation out of the way (see 'Sorry old man, I don't do 70+'), I'll continue on my final days in Porto. R, my second Couchsurfing host, and his partner L continue to be very generous and forthcoming in inviting me to all the get-togethers they've having with their friends. Mostly it centres around the World Cup football matches, let's be honest, but still good fun and all lovely people. I'm actually starting to develop some love for this game. Ssshhh, don't tell anyone.
The second night I stayed with them we went to R's poetry night down the road, where he read some verses from books in Portuguese and various people in th audience also shared their pieces. In between poems, there were a couple of guys alternating with songs on the acoustic guitar, some of which were English so at least I could hum along!
Despite not being able to speak Port, I really enjoyed listening to the variances in voice and emotion - I felt like a dog must feel with humans ha! The only downside was that the basement got really smokey because EVERYONE was puffing away constantly, and as yet there is no law against that. Grrr. And I just washed my hair too.
The next day I took up R's suggestion of checking out the Douro river by train. Basically, it's a regional train ticket (about 10 euros) which I managed to get cheaper cos I accidentally bought it for the wrong stop (I swear they ALL sound the same!). The train guy didn't notice though, phew! It's much cheaper than the wine-tasting boat, although that would've been nice...
The journey was 3 1/2 hours each way, and by the time I got to the end (Pocinho), the train was almost empty and I was greeted with......nothing. A train station, a cafe and some houses. No people selling me lollies or necklaces, no signs for boat tours, no one at the ticket office, not even a cash machine - a problem for me since I had cash to the tune of about 1 euro on me. I ended up having to get out at Regua with the inspector and buy my ticket with him there. But he was fine about it.
I was originally going to stick around Regua til the next train but one glance at the town confirmed I wasn't going to be able to entertain myself for 2.5 hours. Regardless of how entertaining I can be. So I jumped back on the train 5 minutes after I got off and amused myself by watching a group of Portuguese-speaking (Brazilian maybe??) students who didn't want to sit down behind me for fear of a tiny grasshopper on the window. Dear lord. I had to stride in and throw the poor thing out the window for them. Pansies.
Got back earlier than planned and walked back from the station, a decent distance but worth it for the sights I could take in on the way home. Really starting to like this city. Met R at home and we headed to his friend's place to watch - you guessed it - football. This time it was more important cos it was Portugal v Spain - let's not talk about the result.
So that's it! I woke today to ready myself for the flight to Madrid, then Madrid - Budapest. Budapest! Yay! So excited (I wrote this on the plane, stretched out on my own row of seats, so by the time I post it I'll be there!!). Looking fwd to my first host, I'm hoping to see a few of his sights - uhhh, I mean the city sights, yeah that's right...
The second night I stayed with them we went to R's poetry night down the road, where he read some verses from books in Portuguese and various people in th audience also shared their pieces. In between poems, there were a couple of guys alternating with songs on the acoustic guitar, some of which were English so at least I could hum along!
Despite not being able to speak Port, I really enjoyed listening to the variances in voice and emotion - I felt like a dog must feel with humans ha! The only downside was that the basement got really smokey because EVERYONE was puffing away constantly, and as yet there is no law against that. Grrr. And I just washed my hair too.
The next day I took up R's suggestion of checking out the Douro river by train. Basically, it's a regional train ticket (about 10 euros) which I managed to get cheaper cos I accidentally bought it for the wrong stop (I swear they ALL sound the same!). The train guy didn't notice though, phew! It's much cheaper than the wine-tasting boat, although that would've been nice...
The journey was 3 1/2 hours each way, and by the time I got to the end (Pocinho), the train was almost empty and I was greeted with......nothing. A train station, a cafe and some houses. No people selling me lollies or necklaces, no signs for boat tours, no one at the ticket office, not even a cash machine - a problem for me since I had cash to the tune of about 1 euro on me. I ended up having to get out at Regua with the inspector and buy my ticket with him there. But he was fine about it.
I was originally going to stick around Regua til the next train but one glance at the town confirmed I wasn't going to be able to entertain myself for 2.5 hours. Regardless of how entertaining I can be. So I jumped back on the train 5 minutes after I got off and amused myself by watching a group of Portuguese-speaking (Brazilian maybe??) students who didn't want to sit down behind me for fear of a tiny grasshopper on the window. Dear lord. I had to stride in and throw the poor thing out the window for them. Pansies.
Got back earlier than planned and walked back from the station, a decent distance but worth it for the sights I could take in on the way home. Really starting to like this city. Met R at home and we headed to his friend's place to watch - you guessed it - football. This time it was more important cos it was Portugal v Spain - let's not talk about the result.
So that's it! I woke today to ready myself for the flight to Madrid, then Madrid - Budapest. Budapest! Yay! So excited (I wrote this on the plane, stretched out on my own row of seats, so by the time I post it I'll be there!!). Looking fwd to my first host, I'm hoping to see a few of his sights - uhhh, I mean the city sights, yeah that's right...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
