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Simple Truths – Quote Postcards

So I write and I sing. That’s enough of the arts for me. I couldn’t act if my life depended on it (I was in a Shakespeare play at school and I wait for the day that VHS has entirely died out so no one can ever watch the video proof of that horrible embarrassment…), and I my drawing is limited, to say the least. Language and music are sufficient, I do not need to become an all rounder in the arts.

You are all sensing that there is a „but“. And you are right. Writing a blog, I have started to enjoy photography. And while I’m most definitely not all that good at it, I notice I am getting better, which is all one ever can expect from oneself. And because I still like to combine pictures and words, I have taken to making little postcards with quotes on them whenever I felt in a certain mood and found a quote that encouraged or supported me at the time. These little life wisdoms I will share with you now.

I found this in Janusz Korczak’s diary from the Warsaw ghetto. He was a pediatrician and is a Polish national hero, because he accompanied the children from an orphanage (which he ran) into the gas chambers and died there. I find the idea reassuring that living is something that has to be learned. Learning processes are something I enjoy. They promise success in the end. Maybe, with time, I will become more skilled, more able in this subject that we call life. The picture was taken on the ferry from Split, which you see at the shore, to the island Vis, in Croatia. This has been one of my favourite quotes ever since I was a little girl. Beethoven’s music has accompanied me through some difficult times, and its power has never failed to allow me to find my strength. His only opera, Fidelio, is my favourite until this day, and I can sing along to most of the symphonies (the one withe the odd numbers anyway. And the 6th.). As a composer having gone deaf as he grew older, he knew a thing or two about putting up a fight against fate. He may have been the first one to teach me to never give up if you believe in something. The pictures was taken at the Bay of Kotor in Tivat, Montenegro.

Luce Irigaray may not be the easiest theoretician to come across, but she makes a few very interesting points on the cultural theoretical concept of „alterity“, that is, anything connected to things that are different, to „the other“. She says that anything new can only be met once we have come to terms with the self – that is, a conscious, reflected identity is vital for dealing with alterity. I think this goes for any interpersonal relation, and may be especially valid when encountering other cultures. I took the picture in Pocitelj in Bosnia and Hercegovina.

I had to deal with a few gains and a few losses this year – just as it goes in life. I don’t deal well with good byes. They make me very emotional, I think it is because I feel powerless in the face of them. In those moments, I try to hold on to this poem by Hermann Hesse which has accompanied me since I was 15 and set out to live apart from friends and family for an entire year as an exchange student in the US. It is nothing but the truth that „each beginning bears a special magic“, and it is what every farewell will bring us to. The photo is from Porto in Portugal.

I absolutely loved the Flea Market in Brussels at Jeu de Balle where I took this picture. With all the other postcards I showed you here, I had a quote and went through my archives to find a fitting picture. With this one, I was looking for a quote to express the joy I felt at looking at the creative chaos, the infinite diversity I met in this place, and I found one by Palahniuk that said it all. My new beginning (cf the Hesse poem!) may lead me into chaos – but that is where truly magical things can be found.

What’s your favourite quote to help you understand life? Or can you share any travel related quotes that mean something to you?

Bizarre in Brussels – Random Findings

Dezember 17, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / Kommentare deaktiviert

Last week, I let you in on how Brussels swept me away with its enchanting architecture and the beauty of some of its main landmarks, the Grand Place and the Cathedral. Today I want to show you another side of the Belgian capital. One thing that all the guide books point out about Belgium is that it is a bit weird – in the good sense of the word. It is that sense for the grotesque, absurde, bizarre that makes Belgium what it is. The most cited example for this is Manneken Pis – the statue of the little boy peeing that is perceived as the iconic symbol for Belgium: small, weird, and leaving you with a slight sense of „WTF?“ While I get that he’s funny, I thought there were a lot of things going on in Brussels that displayed the same thing, but did it with less of a hype around them, which is much more supportive to the nature of the sentiment itself.

It started when I was walking along Rue d’Arenberg, in the very city center, and came across this very cool sign:

Cinema Nova is Brussels‘ downtown non-profit cinema

Looking at it, I felt directly transported into a Tim Burton film. The different figures looked so alive, so full of character, and yet the cinema behind it did not seem to be very prominent or chic. The internet tells me it is a non-profit place, so I would expect a certain level of hipsterdom to be included, but who cares about that when it is so lovingly done. I felt like standing there and having quiet conversations with those little people in the sign for hours, finding out if they carried the character that they displayed on the outside and turning them into a children’s book. I didn’t, but really just because it was so cold that day.

I also fell in love with this dress:

Window Shopping in Saint Gilles – thanks to Jenny and Luise who let me know that the label’s name means „But where is the sun?“ I guess that is a question that has some validity in Brussels.

I would never wear this (apart from the fact that I probably couldn’t, even if I wanted to!), but I thought it was so individual and fun – and I am not a fashion victim. To tell you the truth, if anyone described an item of clothing to me as „fun“ I wouldn’t know what they meant. But this dress – and the ones to the side – were equally pretty and fun. I felt about the fashion at „Mais il est ou le soleil“ that, like many things in Brussels, it didn’t take itself too seriously while still keeping up a high standard.

Something a little more prone to show up in guide books, also very Belgian and a tad funky were the comic strip pictures randomly strewn about walls in the city.

I especially loved the one with the pillar. Very self-referential to draw an edifice on an edifice. The cultural studies nerd inside of me must have come out when I noticed this. In general those little pictures just added something cheerful to the sometimes stern and grey urbanity (because inspite of the architectural beauty I raved about last week, Brussels also has some seriously ugly corners – all part of the absurd mix that makes the place what it is!).

And what do you do in a place like this if you want to have a nice view over the city? No mountains close by (welcome to Northern Europe!). Not really a tower to climb either. Those two options would be too conventional anyway. No, in Brussels, you take the elevater to the tenth floor, that is the roof top, of Parking 58, a run down and dirty car park in the city center, close to the Metro station de Brouckere and just behind Place Saint-Catherine.

View from Parking 58 onto the Cathedral

View from Parking 58 onto Grand Place and the town hall

It is a bit strange to go up in the elevator that feels like it belonged in a museum and might just stop at any second – but the views are stunning indeed.

A place that absolutely amazed me – and in which I thought the amiable randomness of Brussels culminated – was the Flea Market at Jeu de Balle.

Jeu de Balle Flea Market, Brussels, Belgium

Jeu de Balle Flea Market which is on every day – beautiful chaos!

Berlin prides itself in having a flea market culture – but compared to this, Berlin’s markets are commercialized, capitalist shopping malls. Now this was a true flea market. I half expected to leave carrying those little parasites with me. It would have fit. There was anything and everything to buy at the stands, mostly old useless crap, but put together it felt like the entire world was spread out on those carpets and put itself on display in infinite beauty.

Who wouldn’t want a rusty yet charming candelabra like this in their flat? I adore it!

Look at those porcellaine ladies seductively, nay, lasciviously flinging their legs…

My last discovery was at the Christmas Market at Place Saint Catherine. My friend Stan had told me to go to see the carousel. To be honest I nearly skipped it. How interesting could that be? Turns out very! It wasn’t just any weird ride. It was a beautiful old-fashioned carousel with carefully created creatures on it, purposefully looking a bit morbid and run down, but ever so enchanting, with a beautiful nostalgic quality. Even the music that it played transported me about a hundred years back in time, and watching the children ride it with such enthusiasm and pure joy was a true gift on that cold winter day.

Brussels was definitely wonderfully weird in addition to being pleasingly pretty. It had so many surprises ready for me, and I loved its slight randomness and the quirky little things that were to discover everywhere. I am sure there must be tons more of them. I have a feeling that this wasn’t my last trip to Belgium.

Did Belgium surprise you with anything bizarre, wacky, absurd or funny? Have you made random discoveries like mine in any other place? Tell us about it in the comments!

Bridge at Klein Kasteeltje in Brussels, Belgium

Dezember 15, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 1 Kommentar

This is the first time I really went out of my way in a city to see a bridge – I have gone to cities specifically for the purpose of seeing a bridge (Visegrad, most notably!), but I haven’t made a huge effort inside of a city I went to anyway. Bridges usually just came to me – but not this one. After all, Brussels is not at all centered around water. But there is the Charleroi-Brussels Canal, and it does have a few bridges. There is one a bit to the South of this one that looks exactly the same. I can’t find either of them to have a name, but I very much like the view across the canal into the red brick Klein Kasteeltje. If I understand the Dutch wikipedia article on it correctly, this used to be a casern, then was a jail for prisoners of war after World War II, and today is a home for asylum seekers – what a crazed history for a building.

On my way around Brussels I have slowly made my way towards the canal. I am in no hurry, I’ve got time on my hands, and while it is cold, it is a beautiful day. So many people are out and about frequenting the Christmas Market, and I have time to linger and look at all the things I happen to find noticeable – the comic strips drawn on house walls, or the glass stained windows of churches, or the bilingual street signs. I have enough peace and time and quiet for thoughts to surface that are completely random. That is what travel does to you, and I notice once more that lonesome strolls taken in foreign cities are vital for my well-being.

If you have read My Mission statement, you know why I love bridges. To me they are the most universal symbol of connection, of bringing people together and overcoming anything that may seperate us. I want to present to you pictures of bridges that I really love in places that I really love on my blog every Sunday. If you have a picture of a bridge that you would like to share with my readers as a guest post, feel free to contact me!

A Belgian Revelation – Brussels‘ Architecture

Dezember 10, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 16 Kommentare

Brussels came to me as a shock. Why is that? Because I didn’t expect anything. Certainly not anything outstandingly beautiful. But boy, was I wrong! I must admit that this part of Central Western Europe is a bit of a mystery to me. Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg are blind spots on my map so far. Brussels thus had all the more of a chance to sweep me off my feet, and it took it.

View from Parking 58 in Brussels. An amazing 360 degrees round view completely for free!

Being in town for work, I didn’t have an infinite amount of time on my hands; but it was more than I have had in a while. Not only did I discover an unknown place, I also spent some much needed quality me-time. I didn’t have an agenda, but I just walked through the streets lined with beautiful buildings and took in what I came across. It did help that my first night in town I met up with friends who had couchsurfed with me in Berlin a while back and who gave me much appreciated insiders‘ advice.

Apart from the food (the waffles, the chocolate, the fries and the geuze beer were seriously amazing!), it was most definitely the architecture that had me quietly rejoice on my walks through the city. The first place I went to was Grand Place, or Grote Markt in Dutch, and I swear, my heart skipped a beat as I emerged from one of the small alleyways around it to find myself surrounded by sublimity.

The Brussels Town Hall – so delicate with its ornaments, and can you believe it is around 600 years old?

Grand Place doesn’t just have the big and memorable buildings, but every single small house in it is amazing! No wonder it’s a UNESCO world heritage sight!

Unfortunately, my first day in Brussels was so cold that I couldn’t spend as much time in Grand Place as I would have liked. Instead I went for some hot chocolate and a waffle (heaven!) before I made my way to the Cathedral. I don’t know France very well, but I felt that the Cathedral was proof of closer proximity to it. I spent about an hour inside marvelling at the glass stained windows and watching art students draw the pillars and ornamental details – and again, if it wasn’t for the cold, I would have lingered much longer at the square in front of it that so majestically led up to the church.

Brussels Cathedral

After the cool stillness and the white of the cathedral, the houses that could be found in any random street were all the more so colourful and enchanting! Be they combining white and red brick stone to an elegant whole or be they keeping their rough exterior resembling granaries, with jutties, counterforts and beautiful doors and windows. I could not get enough of it.

One of the most interesting corners was in the Marollen quarter where there are five tiny streets lined with social housing that are architecturally remarkable. I wish they built stuff like this in Berlin instead of lining up the gazillionth house full of lofts that no normal person can pay rent for. The flats had large balconies and the small streets they were lining were quiet and peaceful.

What I like most, however, is the sheer infinite number of beautiful small buildings in the streets outside of the city center. Very often they are in Art Nouveau style and display pretty little ornament or an unexpected glass stained window in their staircase. They come in all shapes and sizes, and they are everywhere, not just in the touristy streets around Grand Place where the crowds gather and take fries to go. As I stroll through those residential areas that are filled with these absolute gems, it is easy to imagine living here. Granted the areas that have them feel quite gentrified, but what can I say, I am not immune to hipsterdom.

As is the case so often, places are easiest to like when you don’t expect to find anything amazing in them. Brussels was unexpectedly easy on the eyes. I think it may be the most underrated city I have visited in Western Europe.

Have you been to Brussels? What did you think when you first saw it? What is your favourite architectural gem you discovered there?

Porto – A City with a View

Dezember 4, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 8 Kommentare

When you look for a place to stay while travelling, you may be looking for the proverbial Room With a View. Seek no longer. I have a whole CITY with a view for you. Or should I say many views.

View from Torre dos Clérigos, Porto, Portugal

From Torre dos Clérigos, you have a perfect view of the former prison which holds the Photography Centre of the country today and is a beautiful building with perfectly morbid charme

On our first day in Porto, Julia and I make our way to the guest house (which, inspite of what it said on the internet, does not have heating and is freezing cold not only, but very much also in our room!) only to drop of our stuff and then go for our first stroll through town. We just head in the direction of the waterfront. I love getting lost in a foreign place – drifting, daundering, just following my heart. Porto has the perfect size for that. It’s big enough for you to get lost, but small enough to not get lost entirely. My kind of getting lost. Just above Rua di Vitoria, we find a lookout that seems to be there coincidentally rather than purposefully arranged for tourists. The views are spectacular.

This first glimpse of the Cathedral won’t be the last, but the way it majestically emerges from the sea of red roofs in this moment is particularly touching to me.

The next day, Julia and I climb the Torre dos Clérigos, a beautiful baroque bell tower and a landmark of Porto due to its height and visibility from various points throughout the city. Again we see the cathedral and the Antiga Cadeia da Relação, the former prison that today houses the Portuguese Centre for Photography. I marvel at the colour contrasts – the grey cold stone of the bell tower, the bright red roofs beneath us, the blue sky and the white sunlight. I am not sure what I did expect when I came here, but I don’t think it was the red roofs. For some reason, so far they have seemed innately German to me. From now on they will be something I remember about Porto.

View onto the town's roofs, Porto, Portugal

View from Torre dos Clérigos onto the cityscape

On our third day, a day after our climb up the bell tower, we have booked a free walking tour through PortoFreeWalkingTour. Eugénia is a lovely guide, knowledgeable, kind and she obviously likes what she is doing. She sets great store by history which is my kind of thing exactly. Amongst many other places, she takes us to yet another viewpoint on top of the old city wall.

Standing on the city wall and looking onto Rover Douro and over to Vila Nova de Gaia

It is misty this morning, and grey. Fog lies upon Douro River, and the pinnacles seem even more barren, more lifeless, but in a way also more eternal, more ancient to me. The river is of that fresh, chilly blue and grey-ish colour, and it is quite still, but not clear enough to reflect the life at shore in its waters. The street you can see in this picture is the one crossing over Ponte Luís I into Vila Nova de Gaia.

Later, in the afternoon, Julia and I cross that bridge to set foot on the other side. It is strange to think that we we are in another city. But then, and don’t I know it, sometimes bridges connect countries, even continents, why wouldn’t they plainly connect two cities. The view onto Porto is gorgeous and much more romantic and charming than the one onto the more modern Vila Nova de Gaia.

View onto Porto from Vila Nova de Gaia – what is mainly to be seen is Ribeira, the Old Town of Porto

Crossing back into Porto over the bridge, there are bridges to see in every direction. But the most majestic view is still the view onto Ponte Luís I from the streets of Ribeira.

View onto one of my new favourite bridges, Ponte Luís I

Porto offers amazing views on every corner – and they are all the more impressive in contrast to the secluded little alleyways where the houses seem to be closing ranks above your head. You leave one of those shady little streets only to find yourself out in the open, with the wide, blue sky above you and beauty abounds all around you. Always having to walk up hills is exhausting, yes – but totally worth it for the views you find.

Have you been to Porto? Did you notice a beautiful view anywhere that I have missed? What’s the most exquisite view you have come across during your travels?

Ping Tom Memorial Park Drawbridge in Chicago, Illinois, US

Dezember 1, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 2 Kommentare

Back to the summer, back to sunny weather and back to the travel life – back to Chicago. On my very last day in Chicago, Jesse took me to Pilsen for the best Mexican food I have ever had in my entire life (and that from someone who lived in El Paso, Texas for a year!) and to enjoy a bit of Chitown’s Latino side. On the way back home, we stopped by the Ping Tom Memorial Park in Chinatown and sat by the Chicago River for a while before taking a boat downtown. We were in sight of the bridge – not a spectacular one, although I liked the little hut that was on top of it and wondered what that was for. It was a mild August day, and the sun was glistening on the water. Children were playing nearby. It was peaceful.

But then, all of a sudden, the bridge started moving! It hadn’t looked like a draw bridge to me, but the entire body (including the little hut) started moving upwards along the steel constructions on the sides. After coming to stillstand, it remained silent for a while, then a train passed over it and when that was gone, the bridge came down again. It was the weirdest looking thing to see the little house on the bridge rise up and sink down again. I imagined that, when I was a little girl, I would have wanted to live in a house on a bridge that moves up and down. I think I still do.

A Walk Along the Atlantic

November 28, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 4 Kommentare

Before our trip to Porto, Julia and I make one wish each: She wants to ride the tram, and I want to see the Atlantic Ocean. We are thrilled to find out that you can perfectly combine the two and take the little vintage tram out to the shore of the ocean. During the ride a young gay couple sits across from us. Love radiates from them, they give off the impression that either they haven’t been dating long or they don’t see each other very often. The are so affectionate with each other, and whenever my look grazes theirs, they smile wide smiles at me. It is beautiful to be in the presence of love.

From the tram stop we have to walk along the mouth of River Douro for a bit before we reach the open water. Looking back to Porto, Arrábida Bridge shows its white arc in the distance.

Mouth of River Douro and Arrábida Bridge in the distance

There is a small alley of palm trees, and if it wasn’t autmnally chilly, this would feel like the Carribean (which I am fairly sure it does in summer!). We shoot a couple of pictures of each other. I have to say I am quite enjoying this – one of the perks of not travelling solo is that I actually get to be in pictures that are not selfies and show some of the scenery around.

Mariella at the mouth of River Douro, Porto, Portugal

I’m trying to play the siren here, can you tell?

Only a short walk later we get to the pier which we walk along with lots of other weekend strollers. A lot of the tourists here speak Spanish, and all of a sudden that language that I have always found beautiful and passionate sounds harsh and loud in comparison to Portuguese. There are wave-breakers, and if you wait long enough, the water will crush upon them, breaking the wave quite literally into an explosion of white froth.

That is froth if ever I saw any!

What is even more amazing is that once the white, manifest-looking water retracts, the most intense rainbows are on display in front of the view of the shoreline.

I wish I would have pressed the button a tad sooner, I would have captured both the froth AND the rainbow!

I could stand and watch the beauty of this forever, the infinite shapes that come up with the water, the amazing sounds of the mighty waves crushing onto the rocks and spraying up in spume. Julia and I sit down in the sun across from the water spectacle. But soon our eyes start wandering toward the horizon, and the eternal width of the ocean. I have seen the Atlantic, but only from the other side, from Florida, when I was 16. It is weird that back then I was looking in the direction of where I am now, while now I am looking in the direction of where I was then. Did I try and look to the future, to my 29 year old self back then, and am I looking back to find 16 year old me today?

Julia and I sit there for quite a long time before we get moving. It is surprisingly warm by the water, almost no wind, and the sun is shining almost hotly down on us. We go and look for a beachside coffee place, and after having had coffee, we are still warm enough to feel in the mood for some Sangria.

It might not be as authentic as Port wine (which we had as well, don’t worry) – but it sure looks pretty!!

As it goes in this city, as soon as the sun starts to go down, the cold comes promptly, abruptly. We need to get moving, and we start to make our way back towards the river – not without having caught a gorgeous view of the sunset from our coffee place. It is impossible to tell from the pictures, but the clouds have silver linings. I explain to Julia about that saying, and I become aware that I have never seen it illustrated in the sky so clearly as today. I feel like this might have some hidden significance to me. Yes, the clouds that darken my life from time to time, they have their silver linings too.

Sunset with silver lined clouds

We walk past the tram stop, we have decided to walk back into town. Every now and then we turn around to face the sunset, and the sky turning that amazing orange, red and lilac colour. The black sillhouettes of boats look so romantic against the sky in all its colourful glory. I think I am going to really like this town.

Boat silhouettes and colour explosions

Have you ever seen the Atlantic Ocean? Do you like it best or is another ocean your favourite?

Ponte Luís I in Porto, Portugal

November 24, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 2 Kommentare

It has been quiet on the blog this week because my decadent three day get-away to Porto left me with a lot of work to catch up on. But I am happy to present you today with one of the beauties I found while fuelling up on sun and energy in Portugal’s sun. This is the Bridge of Luís I, king of Portugal between 1861 and 1889. While Portuguese kings are usually referred to by the title „Dom“ and the bridge should be called “ Ponte Dom Luis I“, our tour guide told us that rumour has it the „Dom“ was dropped when the king didn’t show up for the opening of the bridge in 1886. Spiteful! If you think that the metal structure seems familiar, you probably associate it with the Eiffel Tower – and yes, Gustave Eiffel did do some work on bridges in Porto. Just not this one. This is his partner Téophile Seyrig’s work who is often not given credit because Eiffel is just the more glamorous and well-known name.

I am fairly certain that I will have to put up more pictures of this stunning bridge because I took about 50 of it. I find it fascinating how the metro goes over the top and cars go over the lower level, and how the bridge connects once more not only two river banks, but two different cities. What you see on the other side is not Porto anymore, but Vila Nova de Gaia. I love the majestic gate that carries the bridge’s name, and the filigree of the steel structure. And this isn’t even the only beautiful bridge over the river Douro in Porto. It certainly was the city for me in that respect.

If you have readMy Mission statement, you know why I love bridges. To me they are the most universal symbol of connection, of bringing people together and overcoming anything that may seperate us. I want to present to you pictures of bridges that I really love in places that I really love on my blog every Sunday. If you have a picture of a bridge that you would like to share with my readers as a guest post, feel free to contact me!

Footbridges in Plitvice Lakes National Park, Croatia

November 17, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 6 Kommentare

This may be more of a crossing than an actual bridge. But since it gets people drily across a body of water I’ll count it. Plus, I love the picture. This is what the footbridges look like in Plitvice Lakes National Park in Croatia – that fairytale place of waterfalls and water of greenish blue colours you didn’t yet know existed. You walk barely just above the water surface on planks, and plants in different shades of green entwine around the planks and seem to reach out to you, wanting to draw you towards them and underwater. The water is gushing underneath your feet. It feels like you could actually walk on water.

One of the best travel decisions in my life was most definitely coming to Plitvice Lakes in April – off-season. Even in the cool Spring weather it was already fairly well visited, and I cannot even begin to imagine what it must look like in summer. Or maybe I just don’t want to imagine. The only thing that saves the place from a complete tourist overload is probably the fact that you are not allowed to swim in the turquoise – no, emerald – no, myrtle – pine – shamrock – good lord, I just cannot decide on a good word to describe the incredible colour of the water. The footbridges blend in so well that they are hardly noticeable – and yet they allow for the visitor to get to the points where the view will be most amazing. Plitvice might not be a secret anymore – but it doesn’t matter, it is a must see for anyone who goes to Croatia.

Anecdotes – The Time I Was Taught About Defiance

November 13, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 3 Kommentare

When I travelled in Central and South Eastern Europe, I had my heart stolen by the town of Mostar in Bosnia and Hercegovina. Mostar is the inspiration for this blog’s title and theme – the place is all about the bridge. And not only about THE Old Bridge, the city’s symbol, but also about metaphorical bridges – between time layers, between ethnicities, between people. I had many experiences there that put my own fortunate life in perspective. One of them was particularly noteworthy, and as is the case with most good stories, it is about an encounter with someone who impressed me.

It was the thrid time on my trip that I came to Mostar, in the worst heat of July. Majda, my gracious host, measured 50 degrees on her balcony in the morning. All one wanted to do was sit by the cool waters of the emerald green Neretva river. One of these insanely hot days, I made it into town anyways in search for a Bosnian coffee kit (a post on the deliciousness that is Bosnian coffee is absolutely in order and will follow!).

Old Town, Mostar, Bosnia and Hercegovina

The Old Town cuteness of Mostar with its many souvenir shops

In the burning heat, going into the air conditioned shops was a temptation, but I was careful not to go into any place I didn’t want to buy anything from, because all the jewellry, scarfs and handbags were hard to resist as it were. Finally there was a shop that sold the cannikins called „džezva“ and the little cups called „fildžani“, and the ones on display outside were really pretty. So I went in.

It was nice and cool in the little room, and behin a small cashier counter there was a man in his thirties sitting and smoking a cigarette. He asked if he could help, and in broken Bosnian I said I was looking for a džezva and fildžani, and he motioned me smilingly to take a look around, obviously happy I spoke his language. He then asked me, again in Bosnian, where I was from. I told him, and he asked which city. „Hamburg“, I said, and he got very excited and said „HSV!!“ – which is Hamburg’s professional football club. I nodded, and he added: „Mostar klub – Velež!“ I knew that Velež was the Bosniak football club of town, and that their motto was „Mostar in the heart – Velež to the grave“. So I said this motto, in Bosnian – „Mostar u srcu, Velež do grobu!“, and my counterpart nearly exploded with enthusiasm. In one quick motion, he got up, obviously to fetch something – and it was only then when I noticed. He was missing a leg.

Shells in Snipers' nest, Mostar, Bosnia and Hervegovina

If you go to the bombed out bank building known in Mostar as the Snipers‘ nest, you will find bullet shells abound spread on the floor – a reminder of war

By this time our little talk and my looking around the shop had been going on for a good few minutes, and I had just thought he was being comfortable sitting there. When he got up, he did it with such matter of course and ease that it baffled me. I didn’t even have time to think it horrible, tragic, or anything of the sort. I was just completely taken aback how I could not have noticed it!

War is ever present in Mostar. You can see it in the buildings – although the vast majority has been restored – and in the people’s faces; you will find someone who is willing to share their story of loss and suffering easily, and you can see the ethnic city divide into a Croat and a Bosniak side of town easily. I had spoken to people about war. I had been to the museums in Mostar and Sarajevo, I had heard of flight, fight and fate. I never spoke to this salesman about his personal story. But the way that he got up so swiftly on his one leg, showing me that this was his daily life, his normalcy, impressed me deeply. He smiled at me with an untainted, open, whimsical look on his face. He had lines in his face, sure, but there was nothing speaking of tragedy in his behaviour. He was just there, making the best of life, his cigarette locked between his lips as he employed his crutches.

He had moved to his board of magnets and looked for one with the Velež sign on it, but hadn’t found one. Instead he gave me a regular Mostar fridge magnet that is on my fridge to this very day.

So in the end, Mostar showed both its torn and difficult past and present and its sublime beauty again – its beauty, which lies in the will of its people to persevere, not give up, and believe in a happy ending inspite of all the ugliness of history. They defy tragedy. They defy life, or better yet, death. It feels like things are condensed in that town. You look into the abyss. And then, again, you find yourself face to face with unearthly beauty and peace.

View from the Western side of the Neretva onto Old Town houses on the river’s other bank

The value of travel has been discussed at large in many different places. All our favourite travel quotes speak of it, innumerable songs have been written about it and hostel common room walls are probably bored with the stories of how amazing and life-changing travel is. I am not here to convince anyone of it who isn’t already. But I will tell you anecdotes that happened to me in my travel life that have changed my perspective on life forever. This is an irregular series on the blog tagged „anecdotes“.

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