úterý 23. října 2012

Chilling journey into Dracula's birth place - Sighisoara

Sibiu (Hermannstadt) and Sighisoara(Segersvár) 

I encountered Tautis sitting on the ground leasing back to the wooden padding of improvised Mc Donald terrace at Gara de Nord.  "Salut. Salut." Tautis handed me his Silva blonda can, for welcome. Told him I have 4 more nefiltrata bergen’s in my backpack and sat next to him. "We have 30 minutes delay already, " he told me. That’s exactly why I am coming on time. Not to wait more than its necessary!

"We need to take care of one big problem before we go", looking at electronic ticket for our trip to Cluj. "There is a name of my colleague written down in this document and I am not sure if they will allow you to take his seat. I am scanning the ticket. Adult/ full price stated in the top right corner and obviously Romanian name at the right bottom one. C'mon. Let's ask. I don’t wana fake someone’s identity. I will take care of your “Forest” and you can ask at the information desk for possibility to change ticket owner." Mutual agreement was sealed with two swigs from the can.

After several minutes of argumentation Tautis was back and pretty upset. His stay in Romania is approaching critical value. After almost 5 months the culture shock is kicking back and he feels really strange and uncomfortable, especially in crowded and sterile Bucharest. His mood was always lifted by any kind of trip. I like to travel with him, because Tautis is always up to go anywhere, explore and most importantly self-arrange anything. From the accommodation, through logistics to the entertainment, everything is DIY.

Dim and magical fog, stray car lights in the distance and completely clear sky with amazing crystal view of the stars. Werewolf moon and un-deadly morning chill in the middle of freshly harvested wheat fields. Slow train speed and beats of the trails. All of this makes you think of this as about extra-dimensional, almost spiritual journey. All the lost and tortured souls around, those gathered during your reaper night shift, now dragged back to underworld for Charon to keep them safe. Your ears full of screaming silence and mind stricken with deadly peace. Getting more and more silent… Into a redeeming limbo of postmortem semi-existence. Silence. Just missing scythe in my hand. Almost feeling its handle in my hands… Imagine that someone knocks on your shoulder in such a state of a mind…chills ran through your spine and various images through your head. Turning my head. From the darkness of dimmed coupe an almost faceless voice with long black hair shrouded with whispers asked me “Could you please close the window, I can not sleep because of the cold.”

Minutes of fantasy regression are gone. Last deep breath of fresh early morning autumn air and I am closing the window. Time to follow the crowd… well those two elderly souls… out of the train. 

5:40 Sibiu Gara. train station is pretty lively. People are going to work and some are coming back. Journey is almost at the end. Calling Reema to let her know I am in the town:-) Next two days she is going to be my tour guide. I am sad though that Mari-An is not present and can not spend some time with us. Right now she is probably strolling through some German city and heaving a good time with strangers :-P

Great 2 days I spent in Sibiu - Strolling through the city whole day, making pictures and in the afternoon visiting ASTRA Film festival of documentary movies. Evening was in sign of culture tolerance. German students had made a dinner and Czech with Pakistanis were invited to enjoy their national cuisine. Great event was closed by friendly ping-pong match.

The next day...think it was sunny Sunday... Ken picked me up after checking out  the 15th International Photographic Salon Sibiu 2012 final exhibition in Sibiu's exhibition hall and as promised, we caught bus to the biggest Village Museum in Europe. With other Pakistanis we decided to spend beautiful day in a calm environment around a lake. Funny thing is that in the middle autumn I was able to weave pussy willow whip usually made for the Easter in mid spring.

It is already more than two days but trip to Sighisoara still resonates within me. Apart from the fact that Vlad Tepes called Dracula was born in here, this small medieval town reminds me my hometown Tachov. 10 long months I have not strolled through its alleyways and strong melancholy struck me hard. Autumn in Tachov is one of the most beautiful times. Colorful alleys, sweet smelling air, sharp low angeled sunshine, bright sky and amazing views on the medieval sights all around the town. Nothing better than stroll through the alleyways, neighborhoods and landmarks ended in a teahouse with cup of fresh Darjeeling in your hands.

Reminds me...the time here in Bucharest is slowly ticking off and in less than a week I will be back in Czech Republic. I am glad I could spend one last weekend on a trip with my friends.

Enjoy your time - life is short ;-)

1 komentář:

  1. Well, thank you for the mention in this blog post, Martin. I see that you are still hung up on weaving pussywillows--or, more accurately, on making a whip. I do hope you did not hit anyone with it. Though since you are still alive, I take that as evidence that you at least tried to behave.
    I am sorry we were not able to say final "goodbyes"...but I think it must be because we will surely see each other again, either in your continent or mine--well, actually, we both call each other's continent our own now, too, huh? See you soon, my friend! La revedere! - MA :)