Where the wild roses grow

A simple life with a long tradition. Their beloved roses and stalls with USSR antiques. Striking heat and humidity, perhaps a feeling strengthened by physical and mental fatigue. Quiet streets but lively restaurants loyally serving Bulgarian spécialités in cities revived by the curiosity of lonely travellers.

My decision to visit the East? Spontaneity and good company; Polish-born, I'd never sought to discover the roots of communist influences which shaped my country and inspired my decision to leave.

A warm Thank You to my dear friend Josey for inviting me to join this part of her travels, despite all my irritation with the (every once in a while) inconvenience and communication issues with some of the locals.

I met you in Barcelona

Writing to you from a café in central Manchester. Window table, and from time to time I turn to look out on the rainy streets in this place I know so well. Umbrellas, raincoats and cars. The busy, the forgotten, the important, the crazy, the happiest, the saddest and the colourful against the grey.

Having been back for a couple of weeks, I find myself reminiscing about the sights and dreams of Barcelona...

Quiet. Yogahaus #2

Hello December! Today marks one month of me being in Germany. It feels crazy to think of everything that's happened and all the experiences I've had here. With every day passing I feel more and more blessed and grateful for the people I have and for what I am able to do With a Little Help From My Friends (some '68 Joe Cocker for a good start of the day, enjoy).