It was somewhere mid-March when my mum found a site advertising a week-long tour in Norway. We'd done something similar in Scotland, when we visited the castles there. This is not what you imagine it to be- the tour meant that every day, we slept in a different city and visited different sites with the same group of people and tour guide. We were eager for adventure, and my mum, being parters with the firm organizing the trip, decided to go for it.
The plan was to get to Oslo from Germany, because we have a place to live in Baden-Baden. This was different from everyone else- the rest of the group was arriving in Olso on the same plane together from Moscow. Anyhow, we talked to the organisers it was agreed that we could get to Oslo ourselves.
Because we had such long trips on the bus, the tour guide used the opportunity to get us familiar with Norway. We learnt that only 3% of Norway can be used as land for living. It's a pretty expensive country too, because of extremely high taxes. Education is free. Norwegians are fiercely protective of their country and nature, and try to preserve as much as possible, preferring not to disturb natural spots at all. At the age of 14, kids are given a choice to either keep their religion or refuse it. All in all, Norwegians aren't religious at all, and in our week there, we only saw one church. The cities are pretty much all very small, and Norwegians' definition of a city is the same as ours for a village.
So:
Day 1, July 27: My mum, small brother and I got to Frankfurt Airport, feeling excited and not really knowing what to expect. For those of you who don't know me very well, I have an irrational fear of flying. This started after the 9/11 incident, but, funnily enough, it's not terrorists I'm afraid of, but airplane malfunctions. So, on the Lufthanza airplane, I was pretty worried- I don't trust any airline except Emirates. Well, as you can guess, we DID arrive (though I almost pissed myself on the take-off), to the small, unusual city of Oslo. I fell in love the first minute we got there. My mum and I observed that all Norwegians are blonde and the men are quite good-looking. They have an interesting language that seemed to be a mix of others, and their own ancient language. Because we got there pretty late at night, we didn't get a chance to explore. So, exhausted, we got to our hotel, which was located in the very centre of Oslo. We tried to sleep, but it was Saturday, and our window was very close to a noisy nightclub. It was a long night...
Day 2, July 28: Waking up early, breakfast at 8... and then looking for our guide. Being the freak that I am, I immediately starting thinking up all these scenrios where we don't find him, or he doesn't know about us, etc. But, everything was in our favour and we soon found him with the rest of the group, of about 45 people, all Russian. The guide was a Russian guy called Ruslan with very unusual eyes (changing colour from green to blue to a weird violet colour depending on the weather) and he turned out to be a very interesting person. The first day included a bus tour around Oslo, and then a trip to a city called Lillehammer, where the Winter Olympics once took place. It was surprisingly warm that day, and after a long drive to a small city called Otta, we spent the night at a hotel.
Day 3, July 29: Another early morning, and we made our way to the famous city Ålesund. Along the road we drove up through a valley to the top of a mountain, some surrounding it covered with ice. The drive to it was extremely narrow and windy, and, being on our massive bus, it was quite an exhilerating experience, especially when we met other gargantuan buses coming down the same way. After that, back on the bus, we finally saw our first fjord. The view was so unexpected and so much more beautiful than we anticipated, that there was a an audible gasp from the group. It was an unusual dark blue colour, a "river" (but not really) between mountains. We got onto a boat and sailed along the fjord, passing huge waterfalls, the most famous of them called "The 7 Sisters". When we were done with the cruise and finally got to Ålesund, we found a city that is mostly made up of little islands. It was typical Norwegian weather- rainy, cold, and windy. Nevertheless, it felt like a genuine Norwegian experience when we finally went to bed.
Day 4, July 30: The 4th day was mostly uneventful, filled with lots of driving on the bus on roads surrounded by beautiful mountains, lakes, rivers and fields. We saw the place in the sea where all the fjords start from and had a few absolutely heavenly strawberries. All in all, day 4 was mostly preparation for what was to come. We spent the night in a fishing city called Måløy.
Day 5, July 31: The 5th day was by far the most interesting, at least for me. On our programme it was written that we were going to visit a glacier. I sort of imagine it as white and flat, and that we'd walk around on it. I couldn't be more wrong. When we were about 3 kilometers away from the glacier, which was a massive block of ice wedged between two mountains, the road was narrow and on one side a huge lake a most unusual light blue colour. Waterfalls were everywhere. Closer to the glacier, a river flowed, also that unusual light colour. We were told that it had that colour because the water had melted from the glacier. We had to walk 1.5 km before an amazing sight opened in front of us- the glacier, a light blue colour, speckled with dust from the mountains, slanting down into another lake. It was so different from what we expected (and so cold) that we all stood frozen on the spot. Then we were told that we would get boats and drift up to it! And sure enough, using about 6 inflatible boats, we paddled to this giant. It was very, very cold and pieces of ice where floating around like icebergs. After half-an-hour of tedious paddling, my fingers numb, we got back the shore. Then we walked the whole 1.5 km back. By the time we got to the coffee shop and I had a steaming hot chocolate in my hands, I was absolutely exhausted. But, nothing comes easy... and I wouldn't trade that experience for anything. That night we slept in a tiny city called Sogndal.
Day 6, August 1: On this day we visited the famous town Flåm. What is so remarkable about it? It's railway station. We got into a train on a one-hour route to Myrdal. The route itself is under protection by UNESCO for its beauty, and truly, the waterfalls, valleys and mountains we passed were breath-taking. The night we spent in a (relatively) large city Bergen, which was also my favourite one.
Day 7, August 2: Our last day on tour was also an interesting one, as we spent the first half exploring Bergen. This city is home to the composer Grieg, one of my few favourites, and we had the chance to visit his museum, which was located in the very house he lived. It was truly an experience, for Grieg, rather unusually, composed significt Norwegian music. It was obvious to me now where he got his inspiration from- the surrounding nature and people of Norway. Listening to his music, you'd always hear the love of his country in it. The day was also an unusual one because when we were travelling before on the bus, the landscape was usually high mountains, fast rivers, waterfalls, forests... now, we passed through a flat land that had few or no trees, with still lakes and many rocks and stones. This road was taking us to the ski village Geilo, which stood 800 m above sea level. That night we went on walks in this cold and windy place, and finally got to bed quite late.
Day 8, August 3: The final day, and we, feeling tired and fulfilled, got onto the bus for the last time to make our way to Oslo Airport. On the way, our guide, Ruslan, told us about the place he lived in- Panama! We heard about South America and he was so good at advertising that we decided our next destination will be Brazil.
And that was our busy, tiring, beautiful and fulfilling trip!
Photos part I
Photos part II
Photos part III
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Monday, April 02, 2007
The Room
On the first day, I walked in with buckets of paint and brushes. I set them all down on the bare floor and opened them up one by one. Red, blue, green, yellow, black, pink, purple, colors you wouldn’t even find names for. I took the first brush and dipped it slowly, gently, into the first can. I pulled it back up, the rich color dripping from the other end, and lifted it up to the plain white walls. The first stroke, the beginning of it all, and I couldn’t believe how right it felt. I dipped the brush back in, and put it up to the wall again, this time more confidently, painting quicker and stronger. For hours after that, I painted all four walls lovingly, passionately. I painted the story of my life, my thoughts, my emotions. I painted everything that meant something special to me. It took me the whole day, and at the end I saw a room given art. I was so exhausted, I lay down on the floor, covered in paint, but with a huge, satisfied smile on my face. It felt right.
On the second day, I walked in pushing a huge, black grand piano. I set it up in the corner of the room. The smooth wood felt good under my palms and after I was done familiarizing myself with every inch of what itself was a work of art, I sat on the soft leather stool and lifted up my fingers to the black and white keys. Then, I played everything that was in my heart and soul. I played my sorrows, my joys, my hopes and dreams. I played with a passion so strong I didn’t feel like I was me anymore, but something floating in harmony with the music. I played for the whole day, and at the end I knew I had given the room music. Tired but fulfilled, I lay my head on the cool wood. It felt right.
On the third day, I walked in carrying a shelf, a pillow, a cage and a box. I set up the shelf opposite the piano and opened the box. On my knees, I took out each object- always a cat from some exotic place, cleaned it lovingly, and put it proudly on the shelf. One after the other, pausing to relive every memory attached to each special cat, I patiently wiped and carefully added to the collection. When I was done, I placed the pillow next to the shelf and opened up the cage. I watched as a careful paw came out and tentatively touched the floor. I watched as a being of beauty, patience, and perfection stepped out and slowly took in what it was seeing. Carefully, the cat walked around the room and explored it with curiosity. Sometimes it asked me questions with long, beautiful meeeeeeows and I laughed at its acceptance of change. At the end, it walked over to me, its eyes filled with trust and love, and curled up to me. I smiled, knowing I had given the room a loyal friend. It felt right.
On the fourth day, I walked in carrying candles. Tall ones, short ones, round ones, thick ones, of every kind. I went around the room and placed them at the edges, one by one, lighting them all. I turned off the lights and sat in the middle, closed my eyes, finding peace and calm within myself. I let the warmth be my comfort, the aroma my tranquility and the darkness my friend. I sat there, allowing the calm settle down into the room. When I was done, I opened my eyes slowly and patiently- I had given the room peace. It felt right.
On the fifth day, I walked in pulling a bed and a couch. I placed them on opposite ends of the room and smiled at how complete the room had become. I spent the day with the knowledge that this was my room, made with my hands, my heart, my sweat. I thought about everything I had given this room, marveling at its sense of unity and harmony. I left that day knowing I had given the room comfort. It felt right.
On the sixth day, I walked in leading a friend. I showed him everything I had done and let him experience the art, music, friendship, peace and comfort in this room. With him inside, it felt truly complete. His presence made it special, understanding and open. I held his hand in mine and let his friendship, warmth and peace into the room. I closed my eyes and smiled, knowing that I was done, and the best was yet to come. I had given the room love; it felt right.
On the seventh day, I rested.
On the second day, I walked in pushing a huge, black grand piano. I set it up in the corner of the room. The smooth wood felt good under my palms and after I was done familiarizing myself with every inch of what itself was a work of art, I sat on the soft leather stool and lifted up my fingers to the black and white keys. Then, I played everything that was in my heart and soul. I played my sorrows, my joys, my hopes and dreams. I played with a passion so strong I didn’t feel like I was me anymore, but something floating in harmony with the music. I played for the whole day, and at the end I knew I had given the room music. Tired but fulfilled, I lay my head on the cool wood. It felt right.
On the third day, I walked in carrying a shelf, a pillow, a cage and a box. I set up the shelf opposite the piano and opened the box. On my knees, I took out each object- always a cat from some exotic place, cleaned it lovingly, and put it proudly on the shelf. One after the other, pausing to relive every memory attached to each special cat, I patiently wiped and carefully added to the collection. When I was done, I placed the pillow next to the shelf and opened up the cage. I watched as a careful paw came out and tentatively touched the floor. I watched as a being of beauty, patience, and perfection stepped out and slowly took in what it was seeing. Carefully, the cat walked around the room and explored it with curiosity. Sometimes it asked me questions with long, beautiful meeeeeeows and I laughed at its acceptance of change. At the end, it walked over to me, its eyes filled with trust and love, and curled up to me. I smiled, knowing I had given the room a loyal friend. It felt right.
On the fourth day, I walked in carrying candles. Tall ones, short ones, round ones, thick ones, of every kind. I went around the room and placed them at the edges, one by one, lighting them all. I turned off the lights and sat in the middle, closed my eyes, finding peace and calm within myself. I let the warmth be my comfort, the aroma my tranquility and the darkness my friend. I sat there, allowing the calm settle down into the room. When I was done, I opened my eyes slowly and patiently- I had given the room peace. It felt right.
On the fifth day, I walked in pulling a bed and a couch. I placed them on opposite ends of the room and smiled at how complete the room had become. I spent the day with the knowledge that this was my room, made with my hands, my heart, my sweat. I thought about everything I had given this room, marveling at its sense of unity and harmony. I left that day knowing I had given the room comfort. It felt right.
On the sixth day, I walked in leading a friend. I showed him everything I had done and let him experience the art, music, friendship, peace and comfort in this room. With him inside, it felt truly complete. His presence made it special, understanding and open. I held his hand in mine and let his friendship, warmth and peace into the room. I closed my eyes and smiled, knowing that I was done, and the best was yet to come. I had given the room love; it felt right.
On the seventh day, I rested.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Black and White
It’s alive. You can feel it from that very first note, the beginning of it all, that breath before a torrent of emotions. It is clear in the air, and in this enclosed room, you can almost see it, its shape definite yet at the same time without boundary.
The wave of notes that follow fill you up with warmth in every point of your body. The life and soul of the music that is now inside you mixes with that which is already yours, and you are at one with it. It is like a child- innocent, playful and inquisitive. It wants to be loved, and as it caresses you softly, beckoning to you soulfully, you cannot help but give in to it.
As you let the music take over you, you are stripped of all that is impure. Naked, you enter a world that is one of the few left untouched. Here, music is everyone and everything. It is that breath of fresh air, it is that cool breeze, that soft grass in a never-ending meadow of beauty. Here, it is innocence. It is love. Peace. Harmony.
The music has a story to tell, and it wants you to hear it. It sits you down and tells you all that it knows. It laughs at the humorous parts, its laughter sweet and melodic to your ears. It cries when it’s sad, the tears big and heartbreaking. All it wants is to share all it has with you, to sympathize with you, to comfort you.
Music is a force stronger and more pure than anything else in the world when it is loved and allowed to love. When it is ignored, however, it is weak and helpless. A child in need of its mother’s attention, a plant in need of the sun. It cannot grow without love.
When, finally, the story reaches its end, you wake up as if from a dream. You remember glimpses of what happened in this other world, yet you cannot grasp them in your mind. The feeling is like catching a lost memory- the harder you search for it, the further away it will get from you. It cannot be forced. It can only be reached through total surrender of mind and soul.
The wave of notes that follow fill you up with warmth in every point of your body. The life and soul of the music that is now inside you mixes with that which is already yours, and you are at one with it. It is like a child- innocent, playful and inquisitive. It wants to be loved, and as it caresses you softly, beckoning to you soulfully, you cannot help but give in to it.
As you let the music take over you, you are stripped of all that is impure. Naked, you enter a world that is one of the few left untouched. Here, music is everyone and everything. It is that breath of fresh air, it is that cool breeze, that soft grass in a never-ending meadow of beauty. Here, it is innocence. It is love. Peace. Harmony.
The music has a story to tell, and it wants you to hear it. It sits you down and tells you all that it knows. It laughs at the humorous parts, its laughter sweet and melodic to your ears. It cries when it’s sad, the tears big and heartbreaking. All it wants is to share all it has with you, to sympathize with you, to comfort you.
Music is a force stronger and more pure than anything else in the world when it is loved and allowed to love. When it is ignored, however, it is weak and helpless. A child in need of its mother’s attention, a plant in need of the sun. It cannot grow without love.
When, finally, the story reaches its end, you wake up as if from a dream. You remember glimpses of what happened in this other world, yet you cannot grasp them in your mind. The feeling is like catching a lost memory- the harder you search for it, the further away it will get from you. It cannot be forced. It can only be reached through total surrender of mind and soul.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Him
It’s the piercing intelligence behind the beautiful blue eyes, the way he walks into a room tall and proud, his body strong and athletic. You know he’s not a child, but not fully grown either. He is fierce, independent and confident. Everything is of interest to him; his thirst is knowledge and he will seek it everywhere. Once he is satisfied, he sits atop his throne with the grace of royalty, but always alert. He has the patience that no-one can rival with, and he notices everyone and everything. He is conscious of every detail around him, and every new sound and smell will be investigated.
He loves company, and is not too proud to admit it. The delight you feel as he approaches you, for you are the one he has chosen, is immeasurable. You know he will do anything for you, his trust and loyalty will never be shaken. He is not afraid to show that your presence gives him warmth and comfort, and his dependence on you does nothing to lessen his pride.
He is not arrogant, rather, he’d share everything he has with you if he could. He knows more than you ever will, and the way he sits there so calm and composed, reeking of wisdom and knowledge gives you comfort, because according to him, everything is right in the world.
When threatened, he is patient and waits for the right moment to attack. He is strong and deadly, and will not back down easily. He will protect what is rightfully his with every drop of power he has, until he can do it no more.
He is a being of every kind of contradiction. He is intelligent, but does not like to show it. He is soft and gentle and loving, but his ferocity and strength is hidden behind it all. His voice is sweet and beautiful, and everything he says sounds song-like. He is warm and he loves you, and you know that no other kind of love exists other than the kind you love him with.
He loves company, and is not too proud to admit it. The delight you feel as he approaches you, for you are the one he has chosen, is immeasurable. You know he will do anything for you, his trust and loyalty will never be shaken. He is not afraid to show that your presence gives him warmth and comfort, and his dependence on you does nothing to lessen his pride.
He is not arrogant, rather, he’d share everything he has with you if he could. He knows more than you ever will, and the way he sits there so calm and composed, reeking of wisdom and knowledge gives you comfort, because according to him, everything is right in the world.
When threatened, he is patient and waits for the right moment to attack. He is strong and deadly, and will not back down easily. He will protect what is rightfully his with every drop of power he has, until he can do it no more.
He is a being of every kind of contradiction. He is intelligent, but does not like to show it. He is soft and gentle and loving, but his ferocity and strength is hidden behind it all. His voice is sweet and beautiful, and everything he says sounds song-like. He is warm and he loves you, and you know that no other kind of love exists other than the kind you love him with.
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