Barcelona day II – lots to do

Second day in Barcelona was a really fun one, we just wandered the streets..

This one was taken in Poblenou, close to our hotel.

A very interesting act in Barceloneta.

And now dears, me – without knowing I’m being phographed.

And then, when I realised. :D

At some point we got hungry.. and we heard the night before, from a friend, that Kiosko is the best place to have a burger in Barcelona. So, we went there and waited..

The place is very small and crowded and of course, full of tourists (still, you can’t miss it).

And we waited.. meanwhile we took some photos..

And when it finally arrived..

The little hungry piglet attacked.

And next some photos we took on the streets of Barcelona..

A group of portuguese young people playin’ traditional songs but not only. At that time “Ai se eu te pego” was very popular, so we couldn’t get rid of it not even here (ok, I admit, it was fun hearing it live :D)..

Roof top waterpool. Just lovely.

Nice balcony.

Dog parks, one of the reasons why almost everyone has a dog :)

Really miss Barcelona!

Barcelona day I – Mercat de La Boqueria

Hi there,

As nothing good happens in the morning, I usually try to make evenings worth. So ladies and gents, beware! I have a Lightroom and I’m not afraid to use it.. Since I wanted to post some Barcelona photos for half of year now, I guess NOW would make more sense than later today.

So here they are, few shots of one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen so far, Mercat de La Boqueria.

Bucharest at dusk

There is no place like home, they say. But do you know where your home is? I like to believe that I will only live here for some time, and then pack and go live somewhere else. And then pack again, and unpack somewhere else, couse my heart travels regardless broders and passports.

War is a psychosis caused by an inability to see relationships.

“Men see objects, women see the relationship between objects. Whether the objects need each other, love each other, match each other. It is an extra dimension of feeling we men are without and one that makes war abhorrent to all real women – and abusrd. I will tell you what war is. War is a psychosis caused by an inability to see relationships. Our relationship with our fellow-men. Our relationship with our economic and historical situation. And above all our relationship to nothingness. To death.”
― John FowlesThe Magus

Handsomely equipped to fail, I went out into the world.

I acquired expensive habits and affected manners. I got a third-class degree and a first-class illusion: that I was a poet. But nothing could have been less poetic that my seeing-through-all boredom with life in general and with making a living in particular. I was too green to know that all cynicism masks a failure to cope– an impotence, in short; and that to despise all effort is the greatest effort of all. But I did absorb a small dose of one permanently useful thing, Oxford’s greatest gift to civilized life: Socratic honesty. It showed me, very intermittently, that it is not enough to revolt against one’s past. One day I was outrageously bitter among some friends about the Army; back in my own rooms later it suddenly struck me that just because I said with impunity things that would have apoplexed my dead father, I was still no less under his influence. The truth was I was not a cynic by nature, only by revolt. I had got away from what I hated, but I hadn’t found where I loved, and so I pretended that there was nowhere to love. Handsomely equipped to fail, I went out into the world.

The Magus, John Fowles

Vine, vine primavara..

Nu mai visez, deja am trecut la planuri si scheme si downloadat aplicatii pe telefon, iPad, ghiduri turistice si neturistice pentru vacanta ce va incepe vineri.

Mi-a mai ramas pe lista sa revad Vicky Cristina Barcelona, ca sa intru in the mood (nu ca n-as fi deja in the mood de vreo 4 ani) si, cam gata. Ready to go!

Am atatea scenarii in minte, ce-o sa vad, ce-o sa fac, ce o sa mananc (mai ales), incat nu pot sta locului 5 minute fara sa ma gandesc.

Si uite asa ca un puscarias, stau si numar.. AMR 4..