Seville Dreaming

Went yesterday to a b-day party and as a result woke up with a massive headache (great punch!). Did some yin yoga at Shanti. Am still stressed, though. Have got 2 potential tenants, maybe... Hope it all goes well and Sevilla will be waiting for me fresh and pretty. And hope the tenant whom-ever-shall-it-be will not be a psycho and burn down all the house.
Friday was the 13th and Freddy was missing. No-show, no notice about whereabouts either. Bizarre co-incidence. Luckily it was not raining zombies, strongboxes, ladders, black cats and banana skins, Hallelujah.
Recently went to Cinema and saw an animated documentary of Lebanon war, Waltz with Bashir, highly recommendable. Also check out the Uzodinma Iweala novel Beasts of No Nation.

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Happy to be home. Yesterday I had Marinara pizza at Mamma Rosa, watched Stella Polaris improvisation theater at Kaapelitehdas and ended up to Spring of Love Party at Pasifico.
Thinking of Burgers. Bad. Bad. Jogging is nice. Burgers are bad. Mustnoteatburgersmustnoteatburgersmustnoteatburgersmustnoteatburgersmustnoteatburgers. Would like to head to Vegemesta at Vaasankatu and have one of those delicious vegetarian burgers. Burgers. Burgers. Tofu Burgers. Soya Burgers. Hamburgers. One other day had a Kippari Soya Burger and howled it down, and had a 2 hours nap afterwards and oh boy that was a day. TomorroIwillstartadiettomorrowwillstartadiet. If I don't pass the cozy little Pelmenit at Kustaankatu and have some delicious Eastern style dumplings.

Friday Dreaming

Went to a housewarming party & danced @ Kuudes linja. Feeling happy and laZyyy now. Having wet hair which feels like a cold, slimy rat hanging on my shoulders. All good, except it's gonna be Monday tomorrow. O Friday where art thou? On Friday I was happily frying some Sweet Corn, listening Tom Verlaine and sipping some red wine. Life was good. Apart from once again I noticed half of the people I know seems to be pregnant. This age, this age... "Her friends are getting babies and she is just getting drunk." Cheers.

(Friday might be more like a state of mind, not an actual day.)

Hibernation

Went to see the Italian film Gomorra, a non-gloryfying filmation about the mafia in Naples, suburb of Scampia. And read the novel the Sirens of Baghdad. Both are very interesting. This is clearly a men's world. And the winter will never end - microwaving my Honey Brown Microwavable Sleepy Bear. ("Fluffy substitute for a Hot Water Bottle. Clean with A damp sponge. Microwave for two minutes max.")

Found my missing morning sleeps at my bed around 2 pm. Not good. Not. Should be more active. Should be more active.

TS Helena

Schooner Helena is quite a pretty lady indeed: as a Flying Finn she easily speeded up to 9 knots per hour even if the winds of that puddle of a Baltic Sea were not strong at all. I would like to see Helena in action on breezy open seas. To join the crew. 38,7 meters long and 6,6 metres wide - more than a double compered to the boat I sailed Caribbean with. Made for sail training and able to host up to 28 person. Masts reaching the blurry skies - one 30,3 metres tall and the other 25,8.

I had a quick 45 minutes walk from the Turku Main Railway Station to the wharf in which Helena was parked. 45 mins. AAaaaaaa. In my map (printed from the net, naturally) it looked like a relaxing 10 minutes stroll along the quays of Aurajoki river but little did I know. Neither about the sailing do I know a lot, should get a book called Sailing for Dummies. Real dummies, in my case. In my basket case.

We spent the first night at Airisto Island and the second one at island of Jussarö. Some decades ago there was a relatively big iron ore mine in Jussarö but later it was shut down - in the dark autumn-ish evening you can find a ghosty teen-horror atmosphere consisting of abandoned houses and mineshafts. I think the Finnish archipelago is highly overrated. Okay, it is pretty. Sometimes even charming with thousands of tiny whiny islands and islets, unbeliavable silence and harmony, seagulls, eagles, swans, seals... But not even close to for example the stunning landscapes of the West Indies. Apart from being a bit lame with faint colours and flat islands in Finland you have to always add the unpleasant facts of the bloody Finnish climate. This time we were kinda lucky - it was +16 degrees Celsius. Very nice for the end of August. In the Finnish scale.

Their Big Fat Italian Wedding

It was a bit bizarre to see us all in the wedding of M&P dressed in our smart skirts, serious suits and ties. Gives quite a contrast to the bunch we used to be with our rastro clothes, wearing the same old cap every single day and looking for occasional spice ups at the street stalls of Benidorm.

The Catholic wedding ceremony was held in an over 1000 years old small church in the middle of nowhere as the surrounding village had little by little moved further while the time passed. It was packed with people, emotions and atmosphere. Adorable place indeed.

After the marriage had been solemnized we headed to Viverone where the party was held in a hotel by the lake. Crazy Italian drivers were speeding away as usual and my personal rally driver SB had a great challenge of keeping on their trail through the narrow alleys of the villages and down the hills. Of course it was raining. I seem to carry the rain with me. Luckily the heaviest part of it started only after something like 200 kilos of rise had been cast and the newly weds were safely in their car. Bird lovers, please note it is just a myth that the pidgins will die if they eat too much rise. Birds are designed to eat and enjoy all kinda seeds and stuff like that. So no worries.

SB does not have a good karma regarding to the eldest brother of M. In Spain he slammed the door of the boot on her fingers and here he accidently made a painting fall directly into her poor head by leaning against an unsteady, temporary wall.

On Friday I went to Nervi. It is yet another small town on the coast, near to Genoa. Lovely views to the Mediterranean, nice park full of curious squirrels, delicious pizza and refreshing beer on a terrace by the sea, nice parking ticket from Alessandria on the way back. Genoa (Genova) is an interesting place as well, especially the old town quarters with very narrow lanes - in many of them you can actually touch the houses on both of the sides of the lane at the same time with your very own two hands. Naturally the only vehicles which can pass through these alleys are the scooters and bikes. If I remember right, the old town of Genoa is the biggest in Europe - and if it isn't, it's still a very impressive maze. The city itself is about the same size as Helsinki.

Valenza

I'm in Valenza, in the province of Alessandria, at the home of Italians P & M who finally decided to get married after almost 10 years of dating and 5 years of cohabitation. I love their relatively spacious flat in this old building, I love the local pizzeria, I love the river Po which is passing by this small town. Most of all I love the general sensation of being in Italy again. The only thing I don't love is the only local pub which is open late at nites - far away and not very tempting in any scale.

Apart from participating the wedding and wishing all the best to the newly weds the other purpose of this trip is to have a reunion of our small community which lived together 4 - 5 years ago in the caravans at Spanish coast. I've seen P & M couple of times after that, Italian L as well (we even lived as housemates in Dublin for a while) but French SB, Colombian D, Austrian B I haven't seen since. The Spaniard P, the highly dedicated scooter cleaner, I don't even wish to see. Italian E, French G, French N etc. are not coming due to several uninteresting excuses.

On Wednesday French SB picked me up at Malpensa Airport. She came from Alsace with her old car and there were some delays in the long tunnels under the Alps so I needed to wait at the airport for couple of hours. Have to say Malpensa is not one of my favourites. Neither the place, nor the name - Malpensa, pensare male, something related to bad thoughts.

We were trying to head directly to here from the airport but somehow madly succeeded in heading to Milan instead: so many road works preventing us from turning where we wanted to that finally we were just too close to Milan to skip it. What ever, a little bit of Milan has never hurt anybody. As SB had not been there before we did the obligatory tour of Castello Sforzesco, Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II and Duomo. Duomo is one of my favourite churches in Europe. Even though St. Peter's in Rome is bigger, Duomo is somehow more interesting as it looks like a gigantic gingerbread house made of lace.

Last time I was in Milan it was year 2005 and one of the sisters of L took me for a proper tour in town (she lives just outside of it). Finally we ended up getting tipsy at Iguana, having huge cocktails in the aperitivo Milanese style. This time no cocktails allowed as the drive to Valenza was still waiting. Quick pints and some pizza and that was it.

It took around 2 hours and 3 U-turns just to get out of town, traffic was jamming really nicely. SB was supposed to get a new car before this road trip so she had already removed her expensive CD player and replaced it with an old cassette player. Who still owns cassettes in the year 2008? I don't. SB does. 3 in total. About as old as the car. I'm already so fed up of those 3 cassettes that I would like to throw them out of the window.

Shakespeare and Company

I would like to live or at least to work in this independent bookshop in Paris. It´s definetely one of the most charming I have seen so far if not the most charming of all. A peacefull oasis for a passing-by book-lover like me. The location could not be better: on the Left Bank opposite to Notre Dame, in the Latin Quarter.

Surprisingly enough, I found the owner George Whitman on one of the little rooms upstairs. He did not seem surprised at all that I just walked into his assumed bedroom which was naturally bursting with old books. Just signed me to come forward instead of backing out to the staircase. Seems that in this house you never know what you will find behind the next corner - it is a maze of books peppered with pianos, cats and little notes from the visitors. Really unique atmosphere, somehow magical and overwhelmingly cozy at the same time. Felt like stepping into another world, thousands of miles from the busy bank of Seine. Sussi in Wonderland, part 2.

Apart from selling both old and new books, the house hosts writers. There are some beds here and where, some sinks and coffee cups, among some other marks of life like backpacks and arm chairs occupied by someone reading his favourite novel.

Paris

Some lost soul has nicked my umbrella and hand cream from the front pocket of my backpack. Maybe while I was having a nap at Charles de Gaulle airport.

Shoe God gave me a punishment for trowing away my well-served sneakers back in Zihuatanejo. It was raining one whole day and my poor Crock-like shoes filled with cold water. I am cold all the time anyway, takes a while to re-adjust.

Feeling sligthly posh: bought 2 shirts at Champs Elysée. The shop was Zara, but anyway. Yesterday spent the day walking around Montmarte and the Opéra Quarter, on Wed visited Louvre and Notre Dame, on Tue the Eiffel Tower. Playing tourist guide.

This French keyboaed is driving me nuts. It is not Qwerty so I can not really type. Or it zill look like this; loqds qnd loqds of s,qll ,istqkes: Oh zell the French hqve to do everything on their ozn zqy.

Xochimilco y Frida Kahlo

Went to Xochimilco and had a relaxing ride on the canals. Pity that I didn´t have enough time to go until La Isla de las Muñecas. Instead I went to see the two houses in which one of my favorite painters, Frida Kahlo, lived with her husband Diego Rivera: La Casa Azul in Coyoacán (also Frida's childhood home) and Casa Estudio Diego Rivera y Frida Kahlo in the posh neighbourhoods of San Ángel. La Casa Azul is lovely, my dream house. I would like to live there but preferably without all the tourist zombies and a bit nearer to the sea. Bright blue walls surrounding a cozy bright green garden, loads of space and beautiful high ceilings. Was nice to see Frida`s bed and wooden leg. After the high expectations set by La Casa Azul, Casa Estudio Diego Rivera y Frida Kahlo was kind of a disappointment: for some reason I was waiting something bigger and more beautiful. It was almost like whatever functionalistic house. Part of the movie Frida (2002) was filmed there and based on the movie I imagined it much more interesting to visit than it actually was.

Saw some amazing views over the city from Torre Latino's 44th floor. This city is quite huge indeed. Makes a small-country-girl like me gasp. According to some sources Mexico City is the second greatest human concentration in the world after Tokyo. There is supposed to be around 25 million people living in this valley. Phew.

Bought a cheap alarm clock from a street stall. 45 pesos. Hopefully it wakes me up nice and neatly tomorrow morning 3AM, to avoid missing my flight. I don't want to leave... Or I want to come back before I have left. Without any intention I guess I managed to bury a little piece of my heart on the fine sands of one Pasific beach. Another piece lays in Altea, of course, and the rest god-knows-where.

I have changed my tortilla diet to a corn diet. To not to totally forget the darling tortillas, had some quesadillas for lunch at Xochimilco. Just 10 pesos each.