Looking for a fourth place?

Suppose you need a place where you want to avoid home life and work and don't want to spend money or interact in your third place. Where do you go?

The hopeless romantic in me would like to say the answer's written in the wind. But it ain't - it's written in cyberspace, a world in itself these days!

Just a few months ago, my friend sent me this truly wonderful link: http://www.panoramas.dk/index.html. It allows you to transport yourself to just about anywhere in the world - far beyond my third place, Costa cafe! - and enjoy a panoramic view of landmarks, big international events and other cool stuff. 

And you don't have to stop at a fourth place either. Treat yourself to a fifth, sixth or as many as you want! So far I've:

• stood at the top of Mount Everest
• attended a UN General Assembly
• marvelled at Machu Pichu
• been at the French presidential election 2007 (I think I got lost that time!)
• and received an audience with His Holiness the Dalai Lama (my personal favourite).

Other fourth places you can go to? Well, maybe you can take refuge in your dreams. They're always a welcome haven.

Or you can disappear into the shoulder of your partner. Your head will fit perfectly between their shoulder and neck. Then they can run their fingers through your hair, transporting you to anywhere but here. 

I'm single at the moment, so that'll be one panoramic walk along the Great Wall of China for me please, barman!

Where would you make your fourth place?

A Little Help with your Search...

Ever woke up and thought: What's it all about? What are we doing here? Or even just been stuck in a traffic jam or supermarket queue and asked yourself it?

Sure you have! And you're not the only one. Philosophers have been pondering this little teaser since Ancient Greek times (though not in rush hour traffic or the nightmarish queue in Morrison's on Christmas Eve, admittedly!).

Here are some of their solutions:

• To pursue good
• To become virtuous
• To be happy
• To achieve self-fulfilment.

Your trusty blog-losopher, however, begs to differ with Socrates, Kant and friends! Although if intellectual push came to shove, they'd punch me out before I'd even passed back the spit bucket! 

The real answer:  

A mountain in southern Chile



Waterfall at Iguazu, Argentina



A breathtaking view of Bariloche, the lake zone

Glacier in El Calafate, Argentina

These are just a few of my pics from a truly marvellous trip to Argentina, plus a cheeky two days in southern Chile as well. The world is full of magnificent sights like these and we've been put on this earth to see them!

That's what it's all about for me. Sometimes life can be so simple!

And for you?

The Transylvania Chronicles - Day Nine

9th September 2007,
Sabadell, SPAIN

Now that we have said goodbye to this delightful country, how would I describe Rumania? I would say it's a very open country, one where several languages, besides Rumanian, are understood. Yes, "open" would be the best description for me. There were very few people, even in some of the most remote places, who couldn't string together a few words in English. All the same, I'd like to return some day with some Rmanian in my head.

I hate to sound like a capitalist here, but I'd say "value for money" also springs to mind. Generally everything was much cheaper than we imagined, something which you may or may not have gathered in the course of these chronicles. Especially the food (how i love a good meal!). Rumania is definitely the kind of country you want to come to with an empty suitcase!

The scenery: picturesque. The roads are rocky, but the views of the mountains, and from there, are magnificent, the kind that make us realise we're mere mortals compared to the natural world. A feast for photographers, especially rural Romania with its painted houses and the crosses in the gardens.

How was the tour? Fabulous. I'd do it all over again. I hope to come back some day, maybe see a different part of Rumania and learn more. Besides the beautiful views and places of interest, the other thing that made it great was the company. It's a shame our paths have never crossed earlier in life, but I'm sure I'll see them again because these have been the days.

With these words I draw these chronicles of this voyage to a close. Goodbye, Rumania, and moltmesc. Maybe we'll meet again some day.

The Transylvania Chronicles - Day Eight

7th September 2007,
Bucharest, RUMANIA

The tour operators definitely saved the very best until last today with (another) bumpy ride to Lake Snagov, the historic signifance of which you'll know by now (if not, see the previous entry - and then learn it, damn it!). The lake itself surrounds the monastery housing big Vlad's tomb. Of course, whether this is his actual resting place is conjecture. I'd like to be the first to confirm it, but I can't. Doh! Below the beating sun, the priest, the only one there actually is on the island, related its history to us between mobile phone calls before letting us nose around.

Having feasted on history for the day, we all piled on the bus for Bucharest (oi, oi!), where our first stop was the "Museo de la Aldea" and the second one lunch (shame about the miserable waitress!). We were then taken to see the city's architectural masterpiece: the Palace of the Parliament, a building that the guide was evidently proud of, and with good reason. You'll see why in the photographs.

After slipping in one final church, we had free time to wander round the city, which is more beautiful than I first imagined, I confess. It's still dark though! Unfortunately, we couldn't find a novel, as is our custom of taking some literature from every country, which shows how "unpopular" the Rumanian language is. But maybe Rumanian will have its day as the country consolidates its place in Europe.

The goodbye dinner was a slightly sober affair, everyone knowing we'd come to the end of the road. Some were looking forward to going home, some wanting to stay longer (maybe that was just me!). E-mails, telephone numbers and embraces were exchanged, the sign of a successful tour and good time had by all, but always a slightly tearful affair.

We decided to make the most of a cold evening and had one final drink in the city. Much to our delight, the final waitress was Spanish-speaking, as if trying to bring us closer to home. There were some final laughs as we remembered some humourous times during the trip and spoke of equally humourous times at home.And that was where our journey came to an end.

Yours with a tear,
Peter

The Transylvania Chronicles -Days Six and Seven

6th September 2007,
Sinaia, RUMANIA

Again I must apologise for keeping you all in the dark, my friends. I'm failing in my duties as a chronicler, but in my defence the last two days have been so much fun these pages have remained buried in the bottom of my trendy rucksack.

Yesterday it was an early start to Brasov, the capital of the Brasov county and charming medieaval city. The weather threatened to ruin the occasion, but smiled kindly upon us to make it a fabulous day. We first called in at Miercurea Cruic, a delightful village where we visted a small but very interesting museum on Rumanian books and publishing (more interesting than you might have thought!).

After a not-so-tiring journey on the coach this time we made it to Brasov, where the Black Church stands (religion is everything here!), for a delicious lunch (compliments to the chef!). We popped into the Black Church and then enjoyed some free time to buy some funky souvenirs. I got my "Smile from Transylvania" T-shirt, Mari got her chessboards (something she'll soon wipe the floor with me at!) and Manel got his cakes!

From there we headed for our 4-star hotel in Sinaia, the Pearl of the Carpathians. Sinaia is a charming place, but let me tell you a little about this hotel: a shower like an old man peeing, no plug for the wash basin, no mini-bar (4-star and no mini bar??) and dry bread for breakfast...but there was more to come.

Day Seven...Now, on day six of the tour, things got off to an unpleasant start with the receptionist trying to pin some damages to the room on the brothers from Madrid. Our first and very brief visit was to the Sinaia monastery, up in the mountains. Obviously it was quiet and the monks there might not have appreciated our keysters there gawping at them, but that's life I'm afraid - I've paid my leu!

Next stop: Peles Castle, the former residence of the Rumanian royal family. I have to tell you it's most exquisite place. In fact the tourists are made to wear slippers inside, and understandably so, because everything is carpeted. The castle is a bit like a British stately home, but with more statuettes, though equally impressive decor. Such a place always makes me nervous: all those valuable objects for me to smash to pieces with my rucksack!

The chef must once again be complemented on a gorgeous meal, this time of skewered beef and cheesy potatoes, but not before spoiling with the creamiest, yummiest soup on what has been a cold day. Good work, my friend!

The Bran Castle is another fantastic piece of architecture and was our second stop - it has to be so for the movies! The fact is, though, that Vlad the Impaler never actually lived there at all in his lifetime - blame Hollywood if you thought that! It's on a slope, which makes it a bit of a trek, but one well worth making culturally speaking. My favourite part was the secret passageway to the top floor of the castle. I think it's just the idea of it being secret that gets my juices going!

Oh, by the way, our maid had an excellent way of making the beds - just slinging the duvet over the sheets without tucking it in! If that's not 4-star service... Gave me a laugh all the same!

Time to switch out the ligh. Tomorrow it's a journey to Bucharest and we'll be passing through Snagov, where Vlad the Impaler is believed to be buried by the lake. Will the truth be revealed?

Yours with anticipation,
Petrus

The Transylvania Chronicles - Days Four and Five

4th September 2007,
Bistrita, RUMANIA

Well I guess I'd better get down to brass tacks, since we've got a lot to catch up on; I left you, my dear reader, twiddling your thumbs last night, didn't I? My humble apologies for that.

So, we headed for Bistrita via Sighisoara, but not before catching up on one of the sights we missed the other day, a monastery in Medias. Then it was off to another church (by this time one of the group was thoroughly fed up of seeing churches and remained outside on the bus). Still, we got a nice calendar for next year in the office! I should also take the opportunity to thank the BBC for their brilliant weather forecast of sunny weather for the whole five days: they got it completely wrong and it chucked it down with rain for the whole morning. Nice job there, boys. Michael Fish would be proud.

Soaked to the skin almost we jumped back onto the coach for Sighisoara, where the ruins of the mediaeval old town, the watchtower and the museum of weapons lie. The place was beautiful and had some breathtaking views, but it's a bit of a hike and somewhat hazardous for pensioners, or even if you're just plain knackered. Then after lunch, which was most delicious and filling I must add, we set sail (on the coach) for Bistrita, which is where the Dracula novel opens.

The journey to our hotel in Bistrita was a long but not completely unentertaining tale, thanks to the Rumanian infrastructure. Maybe they do need those funds after all. The roads were an absolute nightmare, enough to give you the most brutal whiplash! Still, we were able to laugh it off by watching Mari try to eat her biscuit - the road wasn't having it! The crumbs went flying everywhere.

Our first destination for Day Five of these chroncicles was Hotel Dracula (it would have been lovely to stay there, but it wasn't to be), the only hotel in the world with this name. The hotel has fabulous views, and they also have the remains of Vald the Impaler preserved there ;). But then it was on to the coach for a four-hour journey to Targu Mures, at which we arrived roughly around 2.15pm for some din-dins!

So with a lovely lunch rumbling inside of us we visited an orthodox cathedral and were let loose to wander the town, which was beautiful, for unfortunately just 30 minutes. Still, it was enough time for me to but the pen with which I write these notes and which bears my name on it in Rumanian: PETRUS: "Pacific and harmonious, and representing beauty and tenderness." True or false?!

Ten-past-five and on to the bus again for a three-hour journey to the quaint little town of Odorheiu Secuiesc. Meanwhile, a surprise was being prepared for Manel's birthday, an excuse for us all to go out and get some alcohol into us! Happy birthday, señor!

By the way, the bar at which we had our meal was called Opium, a nice end to the day bringing back fond memories of Edinburgh and the heavy metal bar of the same name!

Time to put the pen down I'm afraid and close my eyes. I've a feeling we may have a long journey ahead tomorrow.

Godspeed,
Petrus

The Transylvania Chronicles - Day Three

2nd September 2007,
Medias, RUMANIA

It's 10.30pm here and after a long day, one of mixed emotions it has to be said, we're now in Medias. Last night we were kept up late by some raucous wedding celebrations held at the hotel in Bucharest and guess what? It's more of the same here!

This morning we were up at 7am and on the coach at 8am. But it got better: a five-hour coach journey to our first destination, Sibiel. Still, we did get a laugh on the coach at the psychopathic dogs in the garage which chased all the cars driving away from it! They even went for the bus!

When we finally arrived the first thing we did was sit down for lunch in a house in beautiful rural Transylvania (I think I'm falling in love with this country), where we served by a country girl and her young child. Unfortunately, we were forced to sit with people who only wanted to talk about nationalist politics, which made for a tense and uncomfortable meal. I was glad when everyone had sipped down their coffee.

From there we visited a small museum home to the world's oldest collection of iconographic paintings. It was nice, although I can't for one minute pretend to be an expert on Romanian art. We left the museum and headed on to Sibiu, and I have to say it was beautiful. We visited a couple of churches, in which one tombstone comically read, "This time it's me; next time it's you." Very comforting! The third church we saw was one of the finest houses of God I've ever seen, all painted inside.

Following the churches, we had some free time to wander round Sibiel. The market was lovely as were the buildings. We've got some wonderful photos (despite the gypsy who wouldn't stop hassling me while I had my photo taken) and I can't wait to show you how beautiful this land is to me. I was going to buy a statuette of a little Romanian old deer, the typical kind you'd imagine seeing in the mountains babbling away at you in the tongue of the land, but it was a touch too expensive.

Right now we've just come back from a lovely meal, a very fairly price one at that: 2 pizzas, 1 salad, 1 bowl of chips and 3 Diet Cokes - 12 euros, it doesn't get better than that! My apologies for not going Romanian culinarily speaking, but at that price sod culture!

I think it's time to go. It's nearly 11pm here, but we need to catch up on our sleep. Up till now I'm loving this fine land. Why do so many leave it?

Peter

The Transylvania Chronicles - Day Two

1st September 2007,
Bucharest, RUMANIA

To my dear reader,

So, after what seemed a never-ending plane journey we've finally set foot on Romanian soil. Of course, no sooner had we taken our first steps and there was already somebody pushing their luck for money. To be fair, he did load my suitcase into the boot of the taxi from its spot two inches away on the ground - chancer!

We arrived roughly around 17:00 Rumanian time at the hotel. Our room is very nice, not the hell-hole we thought they might have booked for us. You know the one I mean, the 'special suite'. As our taxi cruised into Bucharest I took in the scenery. The pavements and some of the buildings are dirty, kind of reminds of my hometown a little, that kind of dirt. But other buildings were astoundingly beautiful, so Bucharest is kind of handsome by day, but dark and dangerous by night. And despite being a former Communist Bloc state and expecting there to be poverty on every corner - admittedly there is a lot- so far I've seen an Audi 4x4, a Porsche 911 and a Ferrari F40 parked up! In need of EU subsidies - possibly not!

Despite the dirty streets and the darkness (maybe Stoker's imagination didn't work overtime) the weather is warm and the walk has been pleasant. As interesting to look at the buildings is to look at the people and observe how different they are from us. They've looked after us well so far, and there are lots of people who speak English, which made life easier in the restaurant, where we had a lovely meal (beef ciorba - soup to you and I!- followed by a delicious steak), and it did not put me off having what turned out to be a respectable crack at the language. A hell of an investment that book.

We've also made a new friend, Manel, a decent type who runs his own travel agency but whose girlfriend works in Greece, I gather. Maybe he might be able to do us a discount some time! But, no, seriously, maybe he'll be able to do us a discount...

Tomorrow we're heading for Sibiu, the European Capital of Culture in 2007. It's an early start of 7:50am out the front of the hotel, so I guess some of the other guests could be in for a culture shock before we even get there, seeing as I can be a real barrel of laughs at that time of the day (has it even begun?) - if you know me well then you'll also realise I'm being ironic.

Anyways, I've said enough for one blog. Besides, I need to get my beauty sleep, something of which I need an exceptional amount, since we were up late last night and then early today.

From the "Peter Express" I bid you Napti buna (Goodnight).

The Transylvania Chronicles - Day One

31st August 2007,
Sabadell, SPAIN

"We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things."*

The words of the world's most famous vampire, from the pen of the Irish writer who put Rumania on the map. And here, at 1.20am, with my case finally packed, I ask which ways the infamous count is referring to, ways which shall become known to me tomorrow evening when we touch down in the mysterious Rumania for day one of our summer break.

I've read Stoker's novel and scared the living daylights out of myself the other evening with Francis Ford Coppola's cinematic interpretation of the story (despite Keanu Reeve's put-on British accent truly grating on me, not to mention Winona Ryder's). Both raise questions: were people in Stoker's time truly much braver in the face of mortal danger? It would seems more so than they are today, I feel. Yes, the traditional literature of the English-speaking world was one of heroes.

My other question is, what is Rumania like? Is it as foreboding and dangerous as painted by Stoker and Coppola? I know not what to expect. Stoker's work has bestown such a novel kind of mystery upon the country, the prospect of a clash between fiction and reality. Will Stoker's reality, which we imagine to be fiction, have been preserved in modern Rumania and actually therefore be fact? Or will it all have changed and his work remain the fiction we've always taken it to be?

I look forward to finding out and to sharing my thoughts with you, my dear reader.

Your friend,
P

* (Stoker, Bram, "Dracula," Oxford Uni Press, Oxford, 1995, pg 21: 10-12.)

Travel Makes Brothers in Arms

18/07/2007

Has your flight ever been delayed by a ridiculous number of hours? Has your train ever been announced as running 30 mins late mid-evening, after a hard day's work? Have you ever waited 1 hr 30 mins and had time to read the magazines in the doctor's waiting room from cover to cover?

Well I've been through all these phenomena, and I imagine you can sympathise too. Yesterday I fell foul of a train delay. Underground, with no air and in baking heat, the homebound train was announced as off for me and the rest of the mass on the platform (standing room only). Finally it arrived, followed by a good old fashioned kerfuffle with the electronic notice board, meaning we all had to jump off if we didn't want to go on a magical mystery tour (the Beatles had time on their hands!).

So praise be, our chariot arrived and it was second time lucky, we're all on our way home, neatly packed together like sardines in a tin. As the journey drew to a close, a toddler splattered me and all the other passengers in the compartment with yoghurt, just to ensure our shirts remained sticking to us.

What's so special about all this? Well, it's the feeling of complete strangers becoming long lost friends when we're all thrown into, ironically, the same boat. Some make light of the situation, some complain and some look out for the well being of the rest; and the longer we're all together waiting for the object of our inconveniences to deliver, the harder it becomes to see them walk out of my life.

It's like in the movies: they all start out with clean clothes, go through hell and back together, then part their separate ways looking dishevelled and Bruce Willis-like in the wake of another Die Hard epic.

So you never can tell. Next time you find yourself in a Planes, Trains and Automobiles moment because the public transport sector is gunning for a World Record in Incompetency, don't sigh in exasperation, blow your fringe up and ask, "So this is what I'm paying for, is it?" Instead, smile and take a look around: a potential soulmate or friend to the end may be watching how you handle the oars.

Bon voyage!