Conquering the past

I haven't had much time to write since we moved back to Europe in August. At first, I needed to recharge my batteries and spent long weeks at the seaside. Then I had to help those I care for to adjust. And finally, I'm at the stage where it seems I have to conquer my past. It feels quite strange, like I've never been away from here... but I'm a stranger. Things I've forgotten, years that seem to have disappeared, friends which are no more around, yet the buildings and the trees are the same... It's such a surreal feeling. I've always believed moving backwards is a huge mistake but this time I don't feel like I'm moving, I'm an icicle waiting to fall but spring is far.

Meanwhile, as each time I'm back in Europe, my suitcases remain packed and the longing to travel doesn't let me sleep. I didn't go to Prague because my favourite team didn't qualify for the finals and the travelling plans were cancelled. This only led to even worse travelling obssession. LOL I literally can't stay here. I know all these lovely places are just an hour flight away and I hardly manage to keep myself at place. But I'm totally planning London for Christmas just because to me Christmas is London, don't ask me why. Each fall I start thinking "London-Christmas" like I have this chip in my head that is programmed to turn on at this time of the year and it has only one program installed. :)

However, I don't really see in my mind all those glorius London lights and the crowded streets... No, I see this quiet, unusually snowy picture, the empty street and the dim street lights... May be I'll hear the steps of a late walker or the distant laugh of a couple going back home after seeing this fabulous new play... May be the wreath on someone's door will fall and the decorations will spill on the snow and spark like jewels. Or I'll go to my hotel without seeing and hearing anything and will paint and write till the morning takes away the mistery of the holiday night. May be.



*Photo courtesy of GemBem75

An Orient Express for my father

I'd like to apologize in advance if this sounds too sad, yet I want to write it. My father passed away too long ago. Too early, too unexpectedly. It's been too raw of a wound for too many years. Surprisingly (or not) it didn't become any easier with the time. Whoever said "time heals everything", apparently was trying to be clever but had never lost a world. I did. An entire, beautifully built, finely touched, impressive, warm and funny world. Something like a Disneyworld made for me, only. I didn't lose a parent, one of two. I lost the definition of "parenthood", the sense of what it means or should mean, and I lost it forever. Now, with my own child, I face the challenge to redefine and reinvent it every single day. Because I don't remember what it means. And in loving memory of this man, and partially to somehow push away the sorrow attacking me these days, I dedicate this post to him. :)

The Orient Express... The ever lasting glory of Hercule Poirot, the seductive glow of diamonds, the sparkling evening dresses, the charm of the past that never returns... Yet, still travelling, still living. I've been involved in his journey since I was born as my father was the first person who brought the train of dreams beyond the "iron curtain" of the communism. He was selling dreams. I looked in wonder at the pictures and couldn't imagine what it would be to sit on velvet, dress for dinner, and... I became Agatha Christie fan. :)))) It was far easier than to buy a ticket. Of course, I did travel on it later as a daughter of my father but those early impressions are still alive in me. I had intentionally buried the train in my mind but fate sometimes plays nasty tricks on us and a couple of days ago I literally bumped into a travel magazine featuring precisely this train on its pages...

*Photo courtesy of www.jaunted.com

Aside from my uncontrollable emotions, the Orient Express can be found here: http://www.orient-express.com/ . There are different journey options to choose from and each separate destination opens a new page, so you won't lose the list. Here is one of my favorite: London - Venice http://www.orient-express.com/web/vsoe/booking_step_1.jsp?station=Venice&type=arrivals or visit Scotland and get lost in the raw romance of the Highlands http://www.orient-express.com/collection/trains/the_royal_scotsman.jsp . Naturally, it's an expensive treat. But... if you ever have this money to spend on a trip, go for it. Take your evening gowns, touch your skin with the nicest perfume you have, borrow (if you don't own) a bold diamond necklace and live, even only for a couple of nights, a dream.

In addition to the already highly emotional post, I want to say here "Thank you!" to someone who wrote me today: "Wherever you go, you have a friend named A." Each time I'm faced with the remarkable generosity of my friends, I'm speechless and feel stupid for not being able to express my gratitude more freely, more openly. They deserve so much and I'm so... reserved usually. So, I will use this blog to tell them I hate the distance between us, yet I am freaked out that I may need to go back... And as cruel as it sounds, I think I still prefer to see them rarely but to move on with my life which, for now, is going to continue I don't know where, I don't know how, only a month and a half before I leave from here... I love them all... but I don't want to go back... And it's difficult for me too. But the fact that they are there, for me... makes a big difference! Thank you all! I hope some day we get on the Orient Express together. :)

Why did she do that?

Today one of my heroines decided to move to Maida Vale. In London, that is. No, not the Canadian one, the British one. And guess what? I've never, in my entire life, spend even one minute in Maida Vale, despite the time I've spent in London... Ouch...

Maida Vale residents anywhere around to shed some light on the neighbourhood? :))))))) I have headache. LOL

P.S. At least, she seems to have good taste, according to Google!