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Still wanna waste all of my time

Putting together a report on any trip takes gargantuan effort even at the best of times, but sitting here staring autumn in the face as it’s blowing yellow leaves up, up, down and away it’s harder than ever. Not least because Georgia seems to warp time just as much as it warps space, making it seem bigger and generally more, and hey, maybe they’ve learned it from Time Lords or something, but it seemed much longer than 10 days.

I wanna waste all of my time with youCollapse )

Be my evergreen

It feels a little weird to be saying this about an entire continent, but Africa is one of those places that I’m familiar with almost not at all. My mostly genuine attempt - well, as genuine as they come in one’s uni years - to learn a little more about it ended with a solid conclusion that it can’t be done in a short time or with a short attention span, because there was too much to learn: current state of affairs, history, wars, tribes, resources, economic problems and prospects, traditions and values, religious landscape, busted preconceptions - all of it made my head spin, and I can’t even say I remember worth a damn out of all my notes anyway. So I bought the tickets, called myself crazy, made sure Dad knew he had to buy, like, two gallons of tequila so that both of us have a chance to survive Mom dealing with my trip, and set off to pester my dear friend currently living and working on the Tanzanian shore.
(Fair warning: long and picture-heavy)
introCollapse )
first weekendCollapse )
ZanzibarCollapse )
Part 2
It seems like I have to write my post about the vacation now, even though I probably won’t be able to do it justice, since my ability to concentrate is severely diminished due to work, weather and Grandpas (now two), not necessarily in that order. Moscow is doing its thing, by which I mean zero degrees Celsius and snow in early October, and I wish I could say I was surprised, but I’m just cold and saddened by the fact that this is going to last another six months (if we’re lucky). So it’s better to remember the good and amazingly summer days before they get completely buried under this grey unending misery. Pictures under cut, business mostly as usual, except the quality is notably worse because quite a few of them are mine.

сколько дорог ведет из дома домой – об этом лишь бог вестьCollapse )

All these letters

The main reason why ikel89 uses all means at hand to extort promises of trip reports from me is, of course, so she can avoid sorting her own pictures; I know it and I do it anyway. The pictures are numerous, but a bit resized and all under the cut.

But first things first, an intro is in order. The Balkans have always interested me in a way the Arab world never could, despite both of them having complicated histories that were the bane of my existence during exams. Maybe it’s the Slavic/Orthodox/Soviet factor, or the mystery of the unknown, it never being the primary region of my interests or studies, but the facts were these: at some point in life, I wanted to go to Belgrade. Montenegro (aka Crna Gora) appeared on our itinerary solely for the reasons of sea and Serbia not being that much of a tourist destination in the first place. Kay pestered a willing Crna Gora fan, and we made our plans in between my students and my dying and Kay’s work and trips. Our research is usually 20% preliminary and 80% hands-on, and this time it was not very different, but the result, for whatever reason, was perplexing at best. (I have half a mind to blame my general weirdness after the end of the semester and my Gran’s visit, but that’s a subject for another post.)

BeogradCollapse )
BarCollapse )
BudvaCollapse )
Tivat (feat. Kotor)Collapse )
In the place of a conclusionCollapse )

It's either love or just the sun in my eyes

(I kept trying to write this post for so long, I don’t even know anymore)

This year, on my birthday the sun came up at 2am – merciless, unapologetically bright and altogether foreign. I got my first birthday wishes of the day (or even the following week, as it turned out) from Kay, as the plane made its way towards a city I never wanted to see all that much.

Seoul, or how to never fall out of love with KoreaCollapse )
Let it be known that this promise was tortured out of me on the high steps in front of Mykonos Accommodation Center for the simple reason of me being too impatient to wait while Kay made a last stand of “I SHALL FIGHT TO THE DEATH [i.e. stand on these steps without moving forever] TO GET THIS POST”. Personally, I think she’s trying this new extortion technique to get back at me for not writing about Istanbul, but, you know.

Let’s go to Greece, she said. It will be fun, she said.

Guess what, it totally was! It’s hard to make rhyme or reason of island hopping (and I think the places blended a little in my mind), so first off, some how to’sCollapse )

Stop One: Rhodes, aka ‘No, we really ARE Greek, don’t mind all the Turkish architecture’Collapse )

Interlude: Kos, aka ‘Who wants to parteh’Collapse )


As my inner condition wished, I deleted everything there was in this lj before this day. From now on, everything I write in here (if anything) will be friends-only.

However, this action had a particular reason and it was a particular person I had in mind when I closed off the lj. So if for some reason you want to read it, but find this message too unfriendly, don't be alarmed - it's more personal rather than general)