I could hear the chime of the church bell every half an hour. Twelve times at midnight. A small church bell striking his heart against the bells’ brims. Half an hour later only once again, symbolically. I was lying down in bed covered by a thick blanket up to my nose. I had only eyes and hands outside of the cover. I kept writing although my fingers were getting numb of cold. The halogen radiator was shining into my direction. It had three ribs but one didn’t work, so only two were heating the room. Continue reading “The lesson of happiness in practice”
The distance stopped to matter that much. What started to matter much more were hills and mountains, in a very new dimension. Every single move of the knee was bringing pain. It only didn’t hurt when cycling down the hill. It hurt a bit less when cycling a flat road. But cycling up the hill was nothing but a nightmare. Going off the bike was a terribly painful new experience. So was going on. So was going up and down the stairs. Continue reading “Pain”
It looks like the winter sun at Krk is whimsical and appears only when it feels like. Today it was mainly hidden behind the clouds, which kept the air slightly chilly, when the sun was gone. My hands were getting frozen without the gloves, so I kept blowing on them from time to time while walking across the deserted streets. Innumerable signs were waving sadly, still inviting the passer-by to book a night, buy a souvenir, try the local delicious food.. but the entrances remained closed. Continue reading “Krk”
I was sitting at the only one stair in front of Market Maja, typing message on my mobile to let Marta know that I have just arrived. “Hey, we’ve been looking for you!” – I have suddenly heard so I lifted my head up. I saw a short girl and a tall guy in front of me, both smiling. “This is Ivan, a friend of mine. I am Marta. We are heading to our buddies, so just come join us. Let’s take your bike to the garden first”. Continue reading “Welcome to Krk”
It reminds me a bit of Buka by name. I asked Feriz yesterday if you threaten kids with Bura, like “if you don’t behave properly, then Bura will kidnap you when it comes”, but he said that not. I’m trying to imagine it. Enormous force that comes from the sea and rules the seaside. Makes the highways closed. Breaks the trees. If it’s able to wipe the car out, then it will have no problems to do the same with the single cyclist. Continue reading “Bura”
1st May street – here it is! I breathed thankfully as I wasn’t sure how many more hills will my knees bear. It felt as if the bones were rubbing each other. And it didn’t feel right. „Number 12 is here which means only few more houses and I will be there” – I lifted up my head and I saw a tall smiling brunet waving to me. „Just on time!” – I hailed back and got off my bike.
The story of Feriz seemed to have no end. Or no beginning. Continue reading “Feriz & Rijeka*”
I screamed “Sea!” out loud and jumped out of my bike! It was there, just in front of me. In the magnificent colors of the sun slowly heading to sleep. It was so beautiful that I couldn’t stop to watch it. After I screamed all my joy out, I watched it silently, stunned. Few minutes later I was back on the bike grinned, enfolded by the warm sea air.
Do you remember how I met two woodmen in Slovenia? One of them asked me why I’m cycling during the winter. He was not the only one asking this question. The second guy – instead of me – came up with the best answer possible: “everybody can cycle in the summer” – he said shrugging as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. I should probably take a riposte course from him.
Do I like cycling in the winter? Not really. I miss the warmth and the sun. I would much more prefer to cycle in shorts and t-shirt. Make pauses to get chilled instead of warming up frozen toes and fingers. Continue reading “Why am I actually cycling in the winter?”