Bunissima

Corpus Christi street

Corpus Christi port

South Padre Island beach

South Padre Island water tower

South Padre Island street to the ocean

A week ago I was in Sighisoara at the Blues festival. Outside the old medieval walls, just getting off the train, I have found the the city to be just like any other city with its people and their daily worries.

[In the mantime I had a peak at the old city, again, after a few years of a foemar visit here]

[the church seen from the city top]

[my favourite house from the old city of Sighisoara)]

Going up to the old citadel feels like you enter a different world because of the architecture, even if, unfortunately, can still see cars up there. Apart from the festival I had the chance to get a grasp of how food is like there. The restaurants are not very thrilling, maybe not in the winter time. The expectations were very quickly lowered summing up to the basic necessity of satisfying hunger. Being brave enough to look for food at 1 am in the morning proves to show what the hidden part of bravery is: thoughtless, to use an euphemism. But not because it’s your fault, people are apparently very sleepy in there and they go to bed early.

[the centuries old cemetery]

While going down on the old medieval building stairs for the concerts every night, I was lucky enough to be able to enjoy the snow falling down from the lights of the city, which made the entire experience more poetic.

[one of the sighisoara towers in the twilight]

Due to certain reasons, I missed the beggining of the concerts, in all the 3 nights of the show. Nonetheless, being there was real fun. The show was great, some bands better than others. The number of spectators was probably around 500 or even less. The public loved all the bands and singers and even if not all were perfect, it all came out great, because people were enjoying the experience. Who needs perfect when it’s fun?

The blues festival itself may be trying to raise to the level of an international renowned event, but its local color, modesty and location make it more like a niche, exclusivist event, that you discover by accident or if you have a very adventurous spirit. Locals, muzic frenzies and people directly involved in the organization of the festival are not included. The “local” color is given by the small city overall, by the way everyone was checking everyone else up to see if they knew them or just because it almost felt like the spectators, organizers and singers all together were like a small community where everyone knows everyone. I reckon that part of the checking is the human curiosity, but at some point it felt like all eyes were on you.

[the drummer is eight years old and the guitarist 10, they and their other colleague were a revelation for the crowd]

The first edition of the festival was in 2005, so it does not have a great deal of tradition, but it’s a great opportunity to be the witness of a simple and real fun event in a wonderful little medieval city.

A stroll around the city with the memory of some simpler things:

roses in a church’s garded-

some of the best greek fries with feta-

the Zavoi Park at night-

A cloudy spring day. It was not cold nor warm. There were joyful times when life was simpler. Nonetheless, love is all the same.

I miss BraÅŸov and I love everything that it represents for me.

I never thought I would love a cat. I always wondered how come people love their cats so much. To me the cats were always as indifferent as I was to them. Trying to make them like me failed miserably so I did not even bother trying.

I love all the dogs. When I walk on the street and see a dog, I love him. I potentially love all the dogs in the world. Seeing them suffer makes me cry.

But cats did not raise any feelings for me. Until recently, when Pisică (Pee-see-kah) and I fell in love. When he first saw me, he ran away. But as soon as he smelled the smoked fish I was putting on a plate for myself, he came in meowing insistently and we were never apart ever since. He is hungry all the time and plays all the time. Pisică likes to play with everything, including his food. He sleeps the days and meows the night. He is adorable. He totally hates being washed. But we’ll get through this together. Pisică also likes my computer a lot. Unfortunately, he got the wrong side of internet and all.

Hmmm, I wonder what happens if i touch this…

No Photoshop this time, just Gimp. Prague did all the work for me.

Today I woke up ready to go. didn’t know where. Decided almost before going out the door: Olanesti.
There were lots of things to see. I thought the most interesting were the people and the things they sell.

Fur scarfs.

Regular scarfs.

A kid was selling peeled green walnuts.

Up there was a monastery. Could not get too far. Enough to see that the nature was a free toilet and that the road was narrowing. Fear of snakes had its final word.

This is a VIP trying to do some organic “architecture” by blending in with the area (read: dodging from the camera and failed miserably).

The tower bar is announcing itself.

And, what a surprise, there it comes, after climbing ten thousand stairs and on some more things to get a photo.

People are barbecuing… you meat eaters!!!

Some people wrote their names or who-knows-what in the water.

People trying not to fall from things they adventuroulsy climbed on.

The VIP, again, is admiring the trees. Apparently I could not get rid of her.

One of the famous springs with sulphur water. Smells bad. Could not get in. Getting on top of it was sufficient.

After a bad pizza, a grilled corn could not be more delicious. And warming too, considering that it was getting freezing cold.

Some musiscians are real geniuses. One of them is Susumu Hirasawa.