#52. check and mark!

#52. Sit and watch a sunset somewhere cool

Days on road: 9. 

Kilometers made: 1727 (so far). 

So far, we pedaled up and down Vltava in pouring rain, partied hard on Christopher Street Day in Berlin and settled in Amsterdam yesterday evening. Along the way, one more of my goal was unintentionally fulfilled: #52. On our last day in Berlin, after walking around all day trying to see everything left on our “to-do” list, I realized we didn’t climb any towers/viewpoints. Lucky for us, a hot air balloon popped up around the corner and lifted us up 150 m: 

Playing hard to get...

My brother in law and his wife recently celebrated eight years of marriage. And before they got married, they were together for five years. 8+5=13 years. Quite the long time if you ask me… 

After 13 years, two kids and all ups&downs we all go through in relationships, they still make each other laugh. I asked them today, how did they story of a boy meets girl went down and he instantly replied: she was playing hard to get. They met through mutual friends (his best friend was roommate with her best friend). He heard all the best about her (she had excellent “references”) and one weekend they all went out together. That didn't go quite as he hoped cause she broke her camera that evening and wasn't in the best mood. While driving her home, he asked for her phone number and all he gotten was the answer: If you want to call me, get it yourself... 
So he did and was persistent until she accepted his invitation for a cup of coffee. After three months of dating, he knew it – that was it...

 

My absolute favourite photo:

Walking down the memory lane...

On days like this, I realy−realy−realy don’t like the fact that I’m on vacation... 

When all the fuss regarding work is behind me, when I don't think about my master thesis (and I certainly won’t think about that on my vacation), my mind does the strangest thing − it wonders off... 
Not to a nice, happy place (like planning a road trip through Europe that will begin in two days) but to a strange place... sad place... 
Why it does that – bets me. But it’s been our routine for years now...

On January the 5^th, it will be 12 years since my granddad passed away. 12 years. It seems like yesterday. And it hurts like yesterday... He wasn’t “just a granddad” to me – he was my mentor, my best friend, my role model... 
He taught me everything I know (from building fences to mowing grass), he listened patiently to my “boys” problems (with a lump in his throat) and he is (mostly) responsible for me being me...

When I went to see my grandma last week, I found his harmonica. I have no idea who gave it to him but he played it all the time cause he loved to play. To get one thing straight, he wasn’t good at it, but he wasn’t a quitter. 
And that is one more thing he taught me – never give up on the things you love...

Working The Numbers

On 22^nd of January I started this bloggistic journey. Since then:

• I posted 74 posts,
• 4,258 times was the blog previewed,
• most read posts were:  Foxy Ladies..., Road tripping, Moving target, If I was... and Story of a boy meeting a girl,
• and fabulous people from the following countries have visited the blog: Croatia, United States, Germany, France, Russia, United Kingdom, Greece, Slovenia, Brazil and Bosnia and Herzegovina. 

Dear reader, seeing all the above numbers, I have a little plea for you: give me feedback. Let me know what you think about this blog. About stories (are they too long, too short, to personal). About photographs following every story. What else would you like to see?

Use the comment box below or email me at: barbara.tursan@gmail.com. Can’t wait to hear from you ;) 

An X turning Y

Since I remember, I wanted a sister. All my friends from preschool had at least one sibling. I used to imagine the games we would play, how I would dress her up, look after her, read her stories, what sort of pranks we would do... I begged my parents every once a while to grant me my wish but years passed and nothing happened. So, I gave up the idea of having a sister one day...

On my seventh birthday, my mom told me she was pregnant. It was the best birthday gift ever! She explained to me that they still don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl but I knew it was a girl. Had to be. What would I do with a brother? What games would we play? No – it was meant to be a girl.

After couple of months, my mom had regular examination scheduled so I went with her. I remember “the incident” like it was yesterday – we went to see the doctor while my granddad waited in the car. The doctor started the ultrasound & everything was in perfect condition... Then he asked: Would you like to know the gender of the baby? We said yes, he turned to me and replied: Congratulations, you’ll get a baby brother! 
At first I tought he got it wrong, but he didn’t. I’ve gotten so mad/disappointed that I marched out of ordination (leaving my mother and the doctor speechless) straight to my granddads car and muttered: It’s a boy – what am I supposed to do with a BOY? I was convinced that my parents done that on purpose (remember – I was only 7 and didn’t quite know how the whole “baby thing” works).

My brother was born on October 14. The second I held him in my arms – I was in love. I wouldn’t change him for 10 other sisters. He is one of the kindest persons I know and I love him unconditionally...

#46. check and mark!

#46. Go to a concert of an artist I love

When I was in my teens (it sounds like I'm fifty years old now) I had the HUGEST crush on John Francis Bongiovi aka Jon Bon Jovi. I was 12 years old when I first heard/saw “Always” video. Oh.My.God. I melted. That was it. Love at first sight. The hair.The torn jeans.The tight T-shirt. The lyrics… My room was covered with their posters. The only thing you could hear from my room was Jon Bon Jovi for quite sometime. It was driving my parents insane. In time, Jon Bon Jovi got mixed up with U2, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Nick Cave, Leonard Cohen and other great musicians but "always" had a “special” place in my heart. 

So when I found out they are coming to Zagreb in June, we had to get the tickets. On the morning of the concert, it poured. Badly. Unstoppably. If Noah could have seen that cloudburst, he would have started to build another arc… And the concert was held at Maksimir stadium (under the open sky, of course). Around 1 o'clock, it stopped.  Simply like that. And didn't start again. The weather was p-e-r-f-e-c-t-o.

You give love a bad name, Bed of Roses, I’ll be there for you, It’s my Life, Dead or Alive, Runaway, Living on a Prayer are just some of the songs they rocked the stadium with…

Amazing performance - you should have been there...

Road tripping

Today is the beginning of the rest of my life. Yes, its a bit dramatic statement but it perfectly sums up the way I feel right now. Today was my last day at work; at 4 o'clock my long awaited vacation began. I’ll be going back to work on 4th of July. Three weeks. 23 days (if you are counting this weekend – and I'm counting every second). 552 hours. 33120 minutes. I've been craving for vacation for a long time now. Really long time. Eternity almost. And I wanted to go somewhere far-far-away. I knew a “normal” trip just wouldn't count. 

We planed to go to Cuba. A couple of my friends have been there and were absolutely thrilled. We tried one agency, another agency but it just wasn't meant to be – first there was no room on flight, then the dates moved, then the weather forecast predicted heavy rain for first 7 next days we were supposed to be there… At the end, we gave up. 

Four days ago we were sitting in our living room wondering where to go now and what to do (cancelling our vacation was not a possibility). And then, my clever clever husband suggested – lets go road tripping through Europe. At first I was sceptical – where to go, how to plan it in such a short time, where will we park our car… 

But the idea grew in me. I goggled. I booked apartments and hotels. I made a draft tour “plan/list”. Here it is…

Distance: 3250 km

Start/end date: 20.06./02.07.

Days on road:13 

Cities visited: Prague, Berlin, Amsterdam (Kinderdijk & Giethoorn), Stuttgart

 

Can't wait :D

Story of a boy meeting a girl

It's a story of a boy meeting a girl. It's not that extraordinary, nor is it unique. It’s simply ours:

Girl goes to seaside with 6 other girlfriends.
Boy meets girl.

Girl likes boy.

Boy likes girl.

Boy, girl and their friends play cards every night.

Girl has nasty PMS crisis around 2 o’clock in the morning and needs something sweet.

Boy rescues her with 3 scoops of vanilla ice-cream and cream.

Boy and girl kiss.

Boy and girl date after returning to Zagreb.

Boy and girl move in together.  

Boy and girl break-up.

Boy moves out.

Girl has fun.

Boy has fun.

Girl misses boy.

Boy misses girl.

Boy and girl make-up.

Boy and girl move in together.  

Boy proposes to girl.

Girl cries and says yes.

Boy and girl plan a wedding.

Boy and girl wed on October 8^th 2010.

Boy buys girl her very first SLR camera and pursues her to follow her dreams as a photograph.

Girl loves boy ever more (although she thought that’s not humanly possible). 

Boy ends up having his own personal paparazzo following him around. 

Higher combinatorics

When I was 5 years old, I had serious problems with my tonsils. As soon as I would as much as look at something cold, I would get sick. And I simply adored ice-cream; every flavour (vanilla, strawberry, white chocolate) and every form (on a stick, in a cone – it didn’t matter). You can imagine how miserable I was looking at all those people eating it at the summer time, and I wasn’t allowed. Or I would be allowed once a month... 

My doctor used a nasty trick to get me do the surgery. He convinced me that I will get loads of ice-cream as soon as I woke up after the surgery. My imagination went wild with possible combinations: what sort of flavours would I get, how many scoops, will there be chocolate topping... The moment I woke up after the surgery, I called the nurse and asked her where my ice-cream is. She laughed and explained I was tricked.

A month after that, I could finally eat ice-cream normally without getting sick. And could never get enough of it - I constantly asked for more. One day, my granddad decided to trick me and gave me as much ice-cream as I wanted (in hope I will realise I can’t eat as much and stop asking more in the future). 

But (pay attention to higher combinatorics of a 5-year-old) I knew that if I told him I couldn’t eat it all, I could never ask for more. So, I sat there, eating ice-cream that was bigger than me, felling sickish but not giving up... Cause you can never show you had too much ice-cream.

If I was...

If I was a month, I would be September.  

If I was a day, I would be Saturday.

If I was a time of day, I would be dawn.

If I was a season, I would be fall.  

If I was a sea creature, I would be dolphine. 

If I were an emotion, I would be curiosity... 

If I was a country, I would be Ireland.

If I was an item in a house, I’d be a stove.

If I was a drink, I would be Guinness.

If I was a tree I would be an oak. 

If I was a flower, I would be an orchid. 

If I was weather I’d be a blizzard.

If I was a fruit I would be a pineapple.  

If I was a colour I’d be jungle green. 

If I was a sound I’d sound like rain.  

If I was a dish I would be hot chocolate cake with strawberries and cream.  

If I was a taste I would taste like vanilla ice-cream. 

If I was a song I’d be One and Only.

If I was a pair of shoes... I would be barefoot...

What would you be?

(writing idea from the sweet blogger/photographer Meg)