Compared with the people living in these houses which I photographed from the train to the Montenegrin mountains, Henry David Thoreau lived in the center of civilization.
You may need to click on the photos in order to enlarge them to even see the houses.
I could somehow reconstruct the names and purposes of all these buildings with a map, but I hope that some of my readers from Belgrade will do this much more easily. :-)
Deep in Venice, between all the ostentatious palaces, the churches, cathedrals and museums, there are a few wooden sheds, so out of place as if they had just arrived this morning with the train from South Tyrol.
This is where carpenters make the gondolas.
And these are the finished products:
When you watch the trailer for Everest,
you may well get the feeling that you have seen it all before: the mountains, the snow, the storm, the helicopter, the drama, the danger, the good-looking tough guy risking his life for an adventure.
And if you are a devoted reader of my blog, you remember correctly:
So, this is what they mean with “based on a true story”.
Where we find water: on Mars, between 34 and 250 million miles away
Where we can’t provide safe drinking water to around 750 million people: our own planet
Sorry, poor people, but this whole space thing is much more exciting.
Researching for my trip to South America, I came across this little country that I knew nothing about – Suriname – and its capital city – Paramaribo – which I couldn’t have named before. And then I saw this photo of a synagogue next to a mosque (there are also Christian churches and Hindu temples in town) and I got a feeling that Suriname might become one of the most interesting countries on my tour.
Might this country in the South American jungle with its Indian, Creole, Indonesian, Maroon, Amerindian, Chinese and Dutch population who are Christian, Hindu, Muslims, Buddhists, Jews, traditional African believers and hopefully also a few Atheists provide some lessons for Europe at a time of increased immigration and diversity? It sounds like multiculturalism is nothing new and the “waves” of immigrants coming to Europe are tiny compared with those absorbed by other continents at other times, including immigrants from Europe. If small South American countries can do it, why shouldn’t Europe be able to benefit from this mix of cultures, languages and religions?
I will hopefully find out in 2016!
The airport (“aerodrom”) in Podgorica, Montenegro:
Ok, this is not the airport, but it is the train station for the airport. Unfortunately, I only found out about it later. When I arrived, I asked the lady at the airport information desk if there are any buses or trains into town. She said – incorrectly – that there are none. The taxi cost 15 € (Montenegro doesn’t have its own currency), for which I could have taken the train through the whole country several times.
Yes, you need to get off here for the airport.
On the website of the Montenegrin Railway (English version available), you can find the schedule. The stop is about 1 km west of the airport exit, on the other side of the highway. The train to Podgorica costs 1.20 €.
Dear refugees,
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart!
With your help, it has become very easy over the past few weeks to tell who of my friends, acquaintances, colleagues and relatives are xenophobes, racists and inhumane assholes. Without your help, it would have taken me years to discover that with some of them, and a few might even have slipped the net undetected.
It’s just sad that so many of you had to die for this.
“Cabin crew, prepare for landing,” the command came through the public-address system, filling the silent cabin of the early-morning flight from Belgrade to Podgorica. “Landing where??” I wondered, for I had only seen dramatic mountains, partially covered in snow, and some lakes.
The short flight from Serbia’s to Montenegro’s capital was more of a scenic flight than a means of transport. The sun broke through the clouds only intermittently, putting the mountains in a dark, eerie light. Whenever the sun had prevailed, it didn’t take long for the mountains to forcefully pull back their cloudy cover, asking for another thirty minutes of sleep. Now I understood where the name came from: Montenegro, the black mountains.
Even the little airport had the feeling of a mountain resort to it. In a country like this, it must have been easy to decide on the location of the airport. You pick the only flat part of land that you can find and expropriate the farmer who owns it. The airport code TGD is a reminder of the Yugoslav past: Titograd.
Unfortunately for you, I like to check in all my luggage, including my camera, because I prefer boarding the plane with nothing more than a book, so I could only take a photo after leaving the airport. Needless to say, I regretted my decision.
On the return flight from Tivat to Belgrade I took the camera on board, but on that day it was too cloudy.
Any walk in Belgrade will sooner or later end up at Kalemegdan Park, the seat of the fortress.
The guy on top of the column is Pobednik, the Victor, and he calls himself that because he just won World War I against the Ottoman Empire and Austria (with some help from the Allied Powers).
When it’s not cloudy, you can watch the sunset behind the confluence of the rivers Sava and Danube.
The Happy Hermit 