the bongobundos

Kalafior

zbieg, in polish, means 'fugitive'. and okolicznosc is 'circumstance'. together, zbieg okolicznosci, is how they say 'coincidence'; a fugitive circumstance.

it was this fugitive circumstance what took us to Olkusz, and coincidence again what made us find the Kalafior.

In this bar we met Fulba and Wojtek, and also Carolina and 'Masakra' and good old Smilie and Ana and Olita... While listening to Fulba's trash band and drinking Zywiec and talking with everybody we finally feel like being at home.

Wojtek tells us, "veritas is adecfactio rei et intelectu". and yes, he is right; truth is always a coincidence.

Now we are heading to Krakow where we plan to stay for a while, but we will surely go back to Olkusz, to visit the Kalafior and feel once more the protection of Swarog.

mapa de ruta                                                                              main page

Krakow

Poland is the best place in Europe to stay for a while, I'm honest.

For some reason I cannot check my mail from here though, so anyway, just wanted to say hi.

We just got out of Amsterdam -and its joints and mushrooms-, crushed the van against a crazy guy -without consequences for us-, crossed Germany and only stopped in Berlin; I thought about going south towards Weimar, but I guess I'll visit the adoptive town of Goethe and Nietzsche some other time.

And we are now in Poland, very close to Krakow, where we plan to spend some time, and maybe even Christmas.

ok; I'm leaving now. There are some beers waiting for us.

oh, i'm including this picture just for you to see how happy I feel.  ;)

p.s. remember to check our main page; in the right you have the photo-albums. the last ones are 'brujas...' and 'holanda-polonia'.

from Paris

I have just written something about Paris that Elisa enjoyed very much; but i'm not going to translate it. We are having a cappuchino in a small café at the rue Gregorie de Tours, very close to St. Germain, after wondering the whole morning around the Toulleries and the narrow streets and libraries close to the Pompidou Centre, checking photography books -Doisneau mainly, though we didn't get any.
Last week we were lost in French Bretange, looking for the Barbarian roots of that half of my blood, walking the paths of the Broceilande wood, or warming up close to the fires of Breton bars, filled with ancient Celtic magic and music.
We will be heading east pretty soon, maybe to find the fountains of the other half of my blood; that is the Gipsy and the Arab. But we'll talk about that later.