tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372868602024-03-08T07:04:10.060-08:00Trans Atlantic TorontoWe have flown over the great waters and settled in Toronto. These are our adventures.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-45529086585951612962008-08-28T22:10:00.000-07:002008-09-01T10:15:25.427-07:00Summer is almost over<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLFoghF8I/AAAAAAAABC4/lqTluQZG24Y/s1600-h/France2008+062.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239809620358272962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLFoghF8I/AAAAAAAABC4/lqTluQZG24Y/s400/France2008+062.jpg" border="0" /></a> Velib Bikes in Paris<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLFza8_1I/AAAAAAAABDA/zg9YQa1Pkf4/s1600-h/France2008+422.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239809623287725906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLFza8_1I/AAAAAAAABDA/zg9YQa1Pkf4/s400/France2008+422.jpg" border="0" /></a> B and T's Wedding in the Alps</p><br /><p><br /></p><br /><p><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLGMFOanI/AAAAAAAABDI/Fqr3xsGSDig/s1600-h/France2008+319.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239809629907479154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLGMFOanI/AAAAAAAABDI/Fqr3xsGSDig/s400/France2008+319.jpg" border="0" /></a> The boats in Marsaille</p><br /><p><br /></p><br /><p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLGnBnCtI/AAAAAAAABDQ/mAKy72Tk6sw/s1600-h/jer+and+d+wed+435.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239809637140073170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLGnBnCtI/AAAAAAAABDQ/mAKy72Tk6sw/s400/jer+and+d+wed+435.jpg" border="0" /></a> Jer and D's Wedding at the Palais Royal</p><br /><p><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLHJ6jNoI/AAAAAAAABDY/-STvKzQNo2M/s1600-h/August+2008+mix+031.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239809646505703042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SLeLHJ6jNoI/AAAAAAAABDY/-STvKzQNo2M/s400/August+2008+mix+031.jpg" border="0" /></a> The New Apartment<br /></p><br />Last updated- April. Where did my spring and summer go?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It is said that Canadians love to complain about the weather. We can't help it.<br /><br />In our defense, however, this summer has been the rainiest season in Toronto on record. Our downtown neighbourhood looks like subtropical jungle.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Some highlights from the past few months and what we have been up to.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In May we attended Jeremy and Diane's amazing Great Gatsby themed wedding. The weekend was the talk of the town, and there is evidence of a certain family member doing the worm on the dance floor.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In June we headed to France for Becky and Thibaut's wedding. We flew into Paris, and partook in the Couchsurfing Project <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.com/">http://www.couchsurfing.com/</a> for a the first week, travelling slowly down from Paris to Marsaille.<br /><br /><br /><br />We were thrilled to see the Velib bicycle renting system in many of the cities we visited, and rented bikes for a Euro a day in Paris. I'm excited about a rumour that it's coming to Toronto. <a href="http://www.ibiketo.ca/node/2440">http://www.ibiketo.ca/node/2440</a><br /><br /><br /><br />The second week we spent in a rented mountain home with 10 friends right smack in the Alps. Both weeks were wonderful and deserve more attention that I can give them at the moment.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />July was busy with an unplanned move. Thanks to Ania and Curtis and Erin and Brett for hauling things over our fire escape and moving boxes until they could no longer feel their legs. After just under one year in our old pad, we retired to a quieter street with more space and swapped our downtown patio for a backyard. Ania and Curtis are now our neighbours, as was Jonathan who lived upstairs from us until yesterday. We are officially renaming our street in the Annex - Little Edmonton.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After waiting for 3 hours I finally got a chance to meet David Sedaris at the Chapters downtown. He signed my book, and rather then letting him chat with me I told him a stupid anecdote about fire escape plans in Korea. I was so nervous, I made a fool of myself and could not get over the incident for a week. His new book is great and you should check it out. Typically I would share my copy but it's signed- to Paul and Sandra, and I can't part with it. It's #25 on the what white people like list.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/01/26/25-david-sedaris/">http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/01/26/25-david-sedaris/</a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After teaching ESL, all summer, I have returned this week to be a student again. I'm thrilled about my up coming year at York.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This weekend we are up to the cottage to try to find the last bit of summer. I hope it doesn't rain. The weekend after next we fly to Edmonton, for the much anticipated wedding of Thea Varvis and Richard Dimitriou. I hope to see many of you there.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-44266698040978377702008-04-26T07:09:00.000-07:002008-04-28T06:57:30.313-07:00Back to the Praries<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SBNAr21iDJI/AAAAAAAABCI/HxAi_gSnzSo/s1600-h/Edmonton+022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SBNAr21iDJI/AAAAAAAABCI/HxAi_gSnzSo/s400/Edmonton+022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193565917486910610" border="0" /></a> WEM- short for WEST EDMONTON MALL.<br /> To deal with the weather we go to the waterpark.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SBNAsW1iDKI/AAAAAAAABCQ/67gpZaTLHMg/s1600-h/Edmonton+086.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SBNAsW1iDKI/AAAAAAAABCQ/67gpZaTLHMg/s400/Edmonton+086.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193565926076845218" border="0" /></a> We rock out. Because it's too cold to walk out--side.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SBNAsm1iDLI/AAAAAAAABCY/QXiQTyJSNB0/s1600-h/Edmonton+146.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/SBNAsm1iDLI/AAAAAAAABCY/QXiQTyJSNB0/s400/Edmonton+146.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193565930371812530" border="0" /></a> A keg + some snow + heels = FUN.<br /><br />When I arrived in Edmonton two weeks ago, I gloated to Paul on the phone that the weather was wonderful and spring like, while Toronto sat in a dreary cloud of rain. Karma bit me in the ass. By the time I was about to board the red-eye back last Tuesday, Edmonton was in a thick tizzy of snow, making the drive to the airport next to impossible. How did we even take off?<br /><br />The weather in Edmonton, for those who have not had the pleasure to experience it first hand, is the "big brother of the city." It is an ominous part of everyone's life, and all the citizens must abide by its rules and laws. It is the only place I know where one may be wearing sandals in the morning, and a parka in the afternoon.<br /><br />It is my observation, that Edmontonians, unlike Torontonians, are much more adaptable people. During some of the winter storms here in Ontario, Toronto seemed all but paralyzed - later boasting proudly it DID NOT have to call in the military "this" time. In Edmonton, the April storm--the severity of which appeared to the untrained eye as relatively more intense than any of Toronto's storms, didn't really affect much.<br /><br />People said things such as, "Oh shit, look at the snow" or, "Look it's snowing" and then they put back on their winter jackets (which most times they were smart enough to not have put away), brought out their shovels, and went to work on their driveways. They went to work as they always do. They went to the mall. They went for brunch on Sunday morning.<br /><br />I have to say, I'm proud of Edmonton. It's building some tough citizens. Much like cockraoches and pegioens, I'm of the opinion they can survive anything.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-53008818266325746242008-04-09T07:33:00.000-07:002008-04-09T08:19:53.899-07:00Nick and Sheila<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_zdiNOxCkI/AAAAAAAABCA/41hyDy-yKtk/s1600-h/sheila+and+nick.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187264450560854594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_zdiNOxCkI/AAAAAAAABCA/41hyDy-yKtk/s400/sheila+and+nick.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong>SWAY - A LIFE OF ERRORS</strong><br />chromogenic print, 2006<br />48 by 48 inches,<br />Edition of 5,<br />2 ap20 by 20 inches, Edition of 5. 2 ap<br /><br /><a href="http://www.nickandsheila.com/photography.php?id=8"></a><br /><br />I attended my first Timeraiser this past Saturday at the Distillery District. It was quite honest one of the coolest events I have been to in a long time.Hosted in the fermenting cellar, it was full of beautiful people and beautiful food. The premise was to bid on art work from emerging and mid career artist. The bids,however, were not monetary but rather in number of volunteer hours pledged to contribute to various organizations in the coming year.<br /><br />Recently, I have been very interested in the works of Nick and Sheila Pye, a Toronto based couple married,who graduated from OCAD. Their work deals with the toils of marriage and commitment and the boundaries we push with each other, and ourselves when in relationships. The work is mostly photographic and installation based and has been receiving a great deal of buzz as of late.<br /><br />Amazingly, a piece tiled " A Life of Errors" was featured at the time raiser, and after a long biding war, I won. In 150 volunteer hours, over the next year, the piece will be proudly displayed in my home. What a way to start my art collection.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-67708602255072815362008-04-05T12:46:00.000-07:002008-04-05T13:17:44.624-07:00Spring is Here<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_faJdOxCgI/AAAAAAAABBg/WBx5Sf09sr0/s1600-h/easter+weekend+086.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_faJdOxCgI/AAAAAAAABBg/WBx5Sf09sr0/s400/easter+weekend+086.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185853351940655618" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_faJtOxChI/AAAAAAAABBo/2pOln-1R84I/s1600-h/easter+weekend+140.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_faJtOxChI/AAAAAAAABBo/2pOln-1R84I/s400/easter+weekend+140.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185853356235622930" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_faJ9OxCiI/AAAAAAAABBw/WgcEcjUXyuY/s1600-h/easter+weekend+071.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_faJ9OxCiI/AAAAAAAABBw/WgcEcjUXyuY/s400/easter+weekend+071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185853360530590242" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_faJ9OxCjI/AAAAAAAABB4/SG3LcmuFmJ8/s1600-h/easter+weekend+099.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R_faJ9OxCjI/AAAAAAAABB4/SG3LcmuFmJ8/s400/easter+weekend+099.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185853360530590258" border="0" /></a><br />Finally after a long hard winter, I find myself on my back deck with the sun on my face. I swear I picked up a few freckles on my nose this morning as I sat outside sipping my coffee, watching the rabid squirrels chase each other on the leafless trees. The pigeons were doing their mating dance, the racoons were making "noises" in alley, my crazy neighbour who bangs on my walls was out on her patio, and my friend Sarah sat with a belly full of baby. (She's pregnant) . It's official-- Spring is here. To celebrate I am posting photos of just a few weeks. Back at the cottage winter was still in full swing. I need to remind myself, that I should not yet put away the winter jacket and pull out the flip flops, just yet.<br /><br />My contract with Elections Ontario has officially ended and I am currently unemployed. Next week I am heading back to Edmonton, to see family and friends and regroup. I have a feeling the next few months are going to be extremely busy.<br /><br />Right now it's time to step back outside to enjoy the sun. Fans of mine who feel like they are not getting enough of my witty banter can rest assured. I am trying to remedy the problem, and become a more consistent blogger. (It's on my long list of things to do. # 31. Become a more consistent blogger- you can not disappoint your fans). If that still isn't enough of a promise, check out Paul's blog <a href="http://www.sinceyoudidntask.wordpress.com">www.sinceyoudidntask.wordpress.com</a><br />I'm certain some of my fabulousness has rubbed off on him over the years.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-13182904432737843822008-01-26T09:27:00.000-08:002008-01-26T16:53:35.098-08:00CUBA<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5vI__mKBUI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/in0BxXfw5aM/s1600-h/Sandra&GumbidoCuba+104.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159938799811822914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5vI__mKBUI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/in0BxXfw5aM/s400/Sandra%26GumbidoCuba+104.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5vJAPmKBVI/AAAAAAAAA_g/kNvc4qYI_34/s1600-h/Sandra&GumbidoCuba+122.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159938804106790226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5vJAPmKBVI/AAAAAAAAA_g/kNvc4qYI_34/s400/Sandra%26GumbidoCuba+122.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5vJAvmKBWI/AAAAAAAAA_o/bmHmXoe7Scg/s1600-h/Sandra&GumbidoCuba+291.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159938812696724834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5vJAvmKBWI/AAAAAAAAA_o/bmHmXoe7Scg/s400/Sandra%26GumbidoCuba+291.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5vJA_mKBXI/AAAAAAAAA_w/UZtUWw9ls68/s1600-h/Sandra&GumbidoCuba+255.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159938816991692146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5vJA_mKBXI/AAAAAAAAA_w/UZtUWw9ls68/s400/Sandra%26GumbidoCuba+255.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Okay, I'm spoiled rotten I know. After a great life altering vacation to New York, but a month ago, I decide on a whim to go on a sell off vacation to Cuba. Just for the fun of imagining a warm place in the dead of winter, my work mate Danielle and I went onto a discount vacations website to see what they had available. What we found was an deal we could not pass up on. Our contract ending the next day, and the new one not to start till the following week. On a whim we booked the ticket and were scheduled to leave two days later.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I can to say going to Cuba on an all inclusive vacation is not in any way an indication of what Cuba was. I learned very little about locals ( except that those working at the resort were extremely kind and lovely), and got version of a country designed especially for me the tourist. I did however, get a chance to meet some great Canadians who shared with me their stories, and sat on a beach that was mostly beautiful--aside from the jelly fish that washed up on the shore most afternoons and made it difficult to enter the water. ( And although dangerous in their own right, they did have a beauty to them that was unparalleled) </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I drank a lot of mojitos and Spanish coffees, sat in the sun at the beach and the pool, watched the live entertainment, ate buffet, and chatted, and drank and drank. The trip in fact degenerated my brain power so much that by the end of it I could barely read a <em>People</em> magazine because it had too many words. ( So much for the 6 books I insisted on bringing). </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I did manage to get off the idyllic grounds for but an afternoon to see some of Havana, listen to live music and get soaked in the craziest torrential rain I have every seen. ( The streets turned into rivers, and all we could do was walk and smile as we soaked to the bone). Havana is such a cool and dynamic city and I wish I had had a chance to see more of it, although a bit intimidating for two women. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The highlight of the trip was by far the snorkeling. Mostly because it was something I was very nervous to do and had a hard time getting into. Being a person who suffers from bouts of claustrophobia and anxiety makes it hard to breathe through a little tube and stick my face in the unknown of the water. Once I figured out how to relax, I was overwhelmed with what I saw. A world in which I did not belong, but was allowed into as a silent observer began to surface. Creatures came out of the nooks and crevices and I could have stayed out there forever. At one point I began to swim out into the blue, before I new it I was in the middle of nowhere, only the light of the deep ocean pouring in through the surface and the soft sound of my breathing. The panic of realising I was so far from land was eclipsed my the inner calm I felt. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Now I'm back, and my new contract finds me sitting under the dim lights of the warehouse at Elections Ontario pushing papers. Although I may not necessarily want to be back in Cuba I keep thinking of being elsewhere as I listen to my ipod and feel my eyes and body get tired. Although the job pays the bills, and it redeems itself based on the fact that I'm not in it alone ( there's a whole troop of us doing the same mind numbing work), I keep thinking I wish I was doing something more creative that used the skills I have.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzzD-TLBTAZ52WFhGuVg_ZwkMNHarUdaJ9ifhEHsGSylRVaow6ooZsQ89NbQ2GHa-GLmXVfSokkMFA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-51061225798107365732008-01-24T22:04:00.000-08:002008-01-26T16:55:34.641-08:00The Great December<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5p-lfmKBQI/AAAAAAAAA-4/VjAPqGt7gek/s1600-h/NYCNY+496.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159575505708123394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5p-lfmKBQI/AAAAAAAAA-4/VjAPqGt7gek/s400/NYCNY+496.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5p-l_mKBRI/AAAAAAAAA_A/8qZfDRXU_kA/s1600-h/NYCNY+557.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159575514298058002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5p-l_mKBRI/AAAAAAAAA_A/8qZfDRXU_kA/s400/NYCNY+557.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5p-mPmKBSI/AAAAAAAAA_I/SVnfuhEg0tU/s1600-h/NYCNY+602.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159575518593025314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5p-mPmKBSI/AAAAAAAAA_I/SVnfuhEg0tU/s400/NYCNY+602.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5p-mfmKBTI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/E9gPRvc82H0/s1600-h/NYCNY+518.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159575522887992626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R5p-mfmKBTI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/E9gPRvc82H0/s400/NYCNY+518.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Everyone has a magic place. A place they hope to visit one day. A place they have built up to mythical proportions in their minds. A place that has become so over exploited in ones imaginations that it could not ever possibly live up to such a high expectation. For some it's a trek in the Amazon jungle, for overs a beach vacation in Thailand, and for other's still a historic view of Rome's ancient civilizations. For me this very place is New York. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>New York is the mecca of art. The center of fashion and culture. It is where Kerri broke up with Big. It is where John Lennon was shot. It's where Ms. Piggy took a carriage ride with Kermit in Central Park. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I heart New York. The cold winter weekend we visited the city, was packed with so much excitment at every corner. Paul and I became unashamed tourist, but also got a chance to hang out with Warren, Kal, and Barbara (some of the greatest hosts eve), and even experienced a true New York house party. We shopped, walked, ate and got inspired. The details are crisp--the smells, the cold, and the energy New Yorkers seem to have. Truly an amazing vacation. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The trip to the MoMA was a 4 hour vacation with in a vacation. It's so cheesy to say, but I feel like I met so many of my personal heroes by walking through this incredible gallery of galleries. I could have spent the night sleeping in front of a Kiki Smith drawing. </div><br /><div>We sometimes go through life in such a state of disconnect. New York made me feel a reconnect to world around me, and a level of being alive I have not felt in a while. Thank you New York for teasing me with your energy. </div>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-16666625499274761972007-12-10T22:51:00.000-08:002007-12-10T23:05:22.369-08:00It's Christmas Time -All over ... Again!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142VVWjuYI/AAAAAAAAA9M/6_bVuEY1kJA/s1600-h/european+winter+holiday+325.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142VVWjuYI/AAAAAAAAA9M/6_bVuEY1kJA/s400/european+winter+holiday+325.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142607564640598402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142XFWjuZI/AAAAAAAAA9U/vSa10AApTqU/s1600-h/european+winter+holiday+522.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142XFWjuZI/AAAAAAAAA9U/vSa10AApTqU/s400/european+winter+holiday+522.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142607594705369490" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142XlWjuaI/AAAAAAAAA9c/wSPS_5UCMjs/s1600-h/european+winter+holiday+354.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142XlWjuaI/AAAAAAAAA9c/wSPS_5UCMjs/s400/european+winter+holiday+354.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142607603295304098" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142ZVWjubI/AAAAAAAAA9k/D1gE0ZSRk-E/s1600-h/european+winter+holiday+346.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142ZVWjubI/AAAAAAAAA9k/D1gE0ZSRk-E/s400/european+winter+holiday+346.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142607633360075186" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142aVWjucI/AAAAAAAAA9s/OnVK3kxrE78/s1600-h/european+winter+holiday+037.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R142aVWjucI/AAAAAAAAA9s/OnVK3kxrE78/s400/european+winter+holiday+037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142607650539944386" border="0" /></a><br />What a great song that is. I am almost in the Christmas spirit. The tree has been dressed, the lights have been strung, the poinsetta is on the table, and I even created a Martha Stewart inspired card holder involving ribbon and thumb tacks. I can hardly believe it's been a year since our cross European winter vacation. I keep thinking Toronto should adopt the Christmas Market tradition of Europe and sell mulled wine on every street corner. Although, I think we're a bit too anal as Canadians to allow drinking in public even if it's in reindeer mugs. I the spirit of National Lampoons, and Home Alone, I figured it would be nice to revisit last year's trip with a few photos.<br />It's obvious I'm feeling sentimental for Bosnia, and missing my friends there. Here's to a beer can tree, and meals of cheese fondue, tarte eflete, and wine wine wine... did I mention cheese fondue?Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-47659632241441742862007-11-27T19:16:00.000-08:002007-11-27T19:37:39.709-08:00MO money Mo Mos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh4bo9c4I/AAAAAAAAA8k/H-x0WoNmDGY/s1600-h/movemeber+galla+036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh4bo9c4I/AAAAAAAAA8k/H-x0WoNmDGY/s400/movemeber+galla+036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137729634531373954" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh47o9c5I/AAAAAAAAA8s/G5YdZcMYHmk/s1600-h/movemeber+galla+053.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh47o9c5I/AAAAAAAAA8s/G5YdZcMYHmk/s400/movemeber+galla+053.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137729643121308562" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh5Lo9c6I/AAAAAAAAA80/IqLUJh15QzA/s1600-h/movemeber+galla+073.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh5Lo9c6I/AAAAAAAAA80/IqLUJh15QzA/s400/movemeber+galla+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137729647416275874" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh5ro9c7I/AAAAAAAAA88/opAUwWHl_iU/s1600-h/movemeber+galla+130.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh5ro9c7I/AAAAAAAAA88/opAUwWHl_iU/s400/movemeber+galla+130.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137729656006210482" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh5ro9c8I/AAAAAAAAA9E/hC1XVRAhOO4/s1600-h/movemeber+galla+082.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/R0zh5ro9c8I/AAAAAAAAA9E/hC1XVRAhOO4/s400/movemeber+galla+082.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137729656006210498" border="0" /></a><br />November 25th kicked off the end of this months prostate cancer fund raiser. Paul successfully raised over $350! Thank you all for your support, and cheers toPaul's wicked awesome mustache growing skills.<br />The Mogala was full of stache aficandos ready to showcase with pride the growth they were able to attain in just one month. Some were more impressive than others, but the winner or the MO bro competition went to a little dude with glasses, who could scarcely grow a mo. I must say, however, there was something endearing about his dorkiness, which made this underdog the favourite.<br />Favourite Mo Bro ensemble went to a group of cowboys, who in my opinion were not all that cool and won simply on the fact that they had more friends in the audience to cheer for them. Paul and his bros came as second runners up. I think I lost my voice cheering as loudly as I could for their sexy 70's get ups, and cheesy chest hair. Awesome is a world that can barely scrapes the ice on this one. They were beyond awesome and should have gone home with the title. Dispite their loss, the boys gained the attention of a Mcleans photographer who decided to do an impromptu shoot for the magazine. Hopefully next month Paul's mo will be famous.<br /><br />The Mo comes off this Friday, and a part of me will be sad that it is gone. I think a mustache gives a man a certain ability to get away with many things they would never otherwise dream of doing. There is a certain je ne sais quoi? to the mo. ( I have never seen Paul dance as much in our whole relationship as he did on Mo Gala night) One may argue the mo gives one a bit of hair to hide behind. I, however, disagree. I think the mo gives men the chance to be someone they are not, and with that fantasy comes an attitude to boot.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-21894077937076092662007-11-10T18:09:00.000-08:002007-11-10T18:36:36.144-08:00MOVEMBER - Week Two<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RzZoH4WaNaI/AAAAAAAAA7c/PW3owGdHztQ/s1600-h/movember+008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RzZoH4WaNaI/AAAAAAAAA7c/PW3owGdHztQ/s400/movember+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131403310030009762" border="0" /></a> CHILLIN MO<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RzZoIYWaNbI/AAAAAAAAA7k/tx_6DWBjaTY/s1600-h/movember+014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RzZoIYWaNbI/AAAAAAAAA7k/tx_6DWBjaTY/s400/movember+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131403318619944370" border="0" /></a> CUTE MO <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RzZoJ4WaNdI/AAAAAAAAA70/vrzSXts8lSQ/s1600-h/movember+021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RzZoJ4WaNdI/AAAAAAAAA70/vrzSXts8lSQ/s400/movember+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131403344389748178" border="0" /></a> ANGRY AT CHICKEN MO<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RzZoKoWaNeI/AAAAAAAAA78/FS20WEu3YUM/s1600-h/movember-029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RzZoKoWaNeI/AAAAAAAAA78/FS20WEu3YUM/s400/movember-029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131403357274650082" border="0" /></a> SANDRA'S MO<br />As you already know MOVEMBER is well under way and Paul is freestyle mustache growing to raise money for prostate cancer research. Thank you to all those you already donated. If you have not yet done, but would love to help Paul reach his goal, you can do so by going on to the Movember website.<br />To sponsor his Mo please go to <a href="http://www.movember.com/ca/donate/?action=sponsorlink&rego=168904" target="_blank"> http://www.movember.com/ca<wbr>/donate</a>, enter his registration number which is <span style="font-weight: bold;">168904<br /><br /></span>I will be posting weekly photo updates of his progress. As of today Paul's mo has raise $153 CND. That means there will be a few more happy prostates.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><br /></span>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-55910357201830905392007-10-29T10:35:00.000-07:002007-10-29T12:12:37.479-07:00WELCOME BACK<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RyYwVLCgnzI/AAAAAAAAA6o/nONN-Uy3A-Q/s1600-h/happy+birthday+paul+thanksgiving+064.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RyYwVLCgnzI/AAAAAAAAA6o/nONN-Uy3A-Q/s400/happy+birthday+paul+thanksgiving+064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126838366106591026" border="0" /></a> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">The CN Tower<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">Our camera was high jacked by James Foss in the summer. ( Excuse no.1) </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">We have been busy setting up our life back in North America, and much to our surprise this does not happen over night. ( Excuse no.2) </span><br /><br />After several months of neglect to our blog, SarajevoPlus has gotten a face lift. ( Or maybe just a little botox in the corners). I have changed the name to more appropriately suit our current situation since we are no longer dwelling in Sarajevo. Although, we have relocated back to Canada, our hearts are still in TransAtlatic mode. So in the spirit of being away, but not being away I though I'd rename her <span style="font-weight: bold;">Trans Atlantic Toronto. </span><br /><br />As you may or may not know, Paul is back in school. He is taking a PR program at Centennial College , which to those of you who are trivial geeks was the filming location of Degrassi High. I can picture <span style="font-weight: bold;">Joey</span> in the atrium and <span style="font-weight: bold;">Wheels</span> leaning on the ramp when I enter the building. He is working hard with his nose constantly in a pile of books- making him the cutest student ever.<br /><br />I myself am taking a few night courses in Design, trying to locate some temp work, and working on illustration and art. Some days are more prolific than others. Right now you can find me in a pair of jean, having finished a bowl of PC Mac and Cheese, slightly rumpled and not showered. I do not try to evoke this image to get pity. Life simply has a different flow when you are not on the run.<br /><br />Toronto has a way of working itself into your system in a a slow and strategic way. There is not an instant love affair with the streets and the buildings. In time, however, the neighbourhood and flow of life begin to find a place in the heart. .<br />There is a lot going on in this bustling urban centre. I will do my best to keep tabs.<br />Enjoy the new blog. cheers SandraSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-47484288324188167732007-07-22T22:51:00.000-07:002007-07-23T00:33:16.828-07:00Ania and Cutis Celebrate Love and Life<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqRShgyhQjI/AAAAAAAAA4U/zfPQCJTxpm8/s1600-h/CIMG1280.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090284214526493234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqRShgyhQjI/AAAAAAAAA4U/zfPQCJTxpm8/s400/CIMG1280.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqRQ3gyhQiI/AAAAAAAAA4M/wgQd-PxSvKI/s1600-h/CIMG1187.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090282393460359714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqRQ3gyhQiI/AAAAAAAAA4M/wgQd-PxSvKI/s400/CIMG1187.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqRP-AyhQhI/AAAAAAAAA4E/cQ6K4iy5eyk/s1600-h/CIMG1215.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090281405617881618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqRP-AyhQhI/AAAAAAAAA4E/cQ6K4iy5eyk/s400/CIMG1215.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqRPbgyhQgI/AAAAAAAAA38/YQaM3jPQP8I/s1600-h/CIMG1230.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090280812912394754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqRPbgyhQgI/AAAAAAAAA38/YQaM3jPQP8I/s400/CIMG1230.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqROVgyhQfI/AAAAAAAAA30/MsVN8noys1Q/s1600-h/CIMG1169.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090279610321551858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RqROVgyhQfI/AAAAAAAAA30/MsVN8noys1Q/s400/CIMG1169.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>On Friday the 20th we pulled up to the Nordegg Hostel where the atmosphere was bustling. The sound of heals was heard clitter clattering across the deck as everyone looked fabulous and anxious to celebrate with Ania and Curtis. Even though the couple tied the knot last year in a private slightly secret ceremony on the river valley, this night was all about celebrating with friends and and family . </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Curtis looked devilishly handsome and Ania radiated a beauty that seems to so effortlessly come to her. Curtis wore a rich silk tie and a suit jacket, while Ania opted for a cream dress with embroidered detailing and slight ruffles around the neckline. To accessorise she paired red strappy shoes a matching pedicure and red flower in her hair. Both outfits were very smart and reflected the mood of the evening which was neither casual nor formal. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>The dinner presented an array of lovely dishes. Beef, turkey and potatoes shined as the feature items of the evening. A wide array of carefully selected deserts were available to round of the end end of the meal. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>A dance floor spontaneously developed on the deck to tunes reminiscent of the couple's sensibility. Latin and Jazz music flowed through the night and the atmosphere was infectious. An indoor sing along erupted after copious amounts of wine and beer, as did a game of pitch black boccie ball. 2am snacks of beef and cheesecake were enjoyed by all. There were laughs and tears, and everyone had am exuberant time well into the early morning hours. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>The next morning the breakfast fairy, aka Ania's fantastic mom, had a continental spread ready for all the guest. Although slow on the uptake, some members of the party mustered the energy by 3pm to go on a gentle hike to a beautiful water fall. </div><br /><div>Cheers to Ania and Curtis who know how to throw a great party. </div></div></div></div></div>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-12479733105727992007-06-08T09:27:00.000-07:002007-06-08T23:43:34.624-07:00The Soccer Game<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJZG7KsSI/AAAAAAAAAd8/LZgVAdaAlzk/s1600-h/end+of+the+year+127.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJZG7KsSI/AAAAAAAAAd8/LZgVAdaAlzk/s400/end+of+the+year+127.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073737519658086690" border="0" /></a> Two Brave Ladies<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJZ27KsTI/AAAAAAAAAeE/JiRs3mEss0Q/s1600-h/end+of+the+year+132.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJZ27KsTI/AAAAAAAAAeE/JiRs3mEss0Q/s400/end+of+the+year+132.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073737532542988594" border="0" /></a> Up in Flames<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJaW7KsUI/AAAAAAAAAeM/dpWMaJjj0MY/s1600-h/end+of+the+year+128.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJaW7KsUI/AAAAAAAAAeM/dpWMaJjj0MY/s400/end+of+the+year+128.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073737541132923202" border="0" /></a> Note the riot police enjoying the game<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJam7KsVI/AAAAAAAAAeU/TmRMrNRYqyM/s1600-h/end+of+the+year+126.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJam7KsVI/AAAAAAAAAeU/TmRMrNRYqyM/s400/end+of+the+year+126.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073737545427890514" border="0" /></a> Pat and Paul<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJbW7KsWI/AAAAAAAAAec/4xxpQaiUuaM/s1600-h/end+of+the+year+144.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RmmJbW7KsWI/AAAAAAAAAec/4xxpQaiUuaM/s400/end+of+the+year+144.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073737558312792418" border="0" /></a> Towards the end of the game<br /><br /><br /><br />The Europeans take soccer very seriously. Before we entered the Bosnia Turkey Match at the Olympic Stadium we were thoroughly checked. No bottles, knives, or handguns were allowed. Since no trash bins were anywhere to be seen we were encouraged to throw our empty beer bottles on the grass which looked like the city dump. With our Canadian sensibilities we all looked at each other reluctant to add to the filthy mess, but we were assured by our Bosnia friend "someone cleans it up in the morning". A separate entrance was marked for Turkey fans heavily guarded by riot Police. Even though we were seated closest to this entrance the cops would not budge even though we told them we were CANADA fans.<br /><br />Upon entering the second checkpoint we were once again frisked and then stepped into what looked like a modern Colosseum of cheering, veering, swearing, and the most hardcore set of fans this side of the Adriatic. Myself and Monique looked around and realized we were 2 or 4 women in our section of thousands. We cheered right along as Bosnia scored it's first goal, but as Turkey scored the stadium was filled with anger and flares and toilet papers roles got thrown on the turf, making the masses of riot police edgy. The Plastic advertising banners began to burn up in flames, and holes were burned into the turf and quickly extinguished by the on site firemen.<br /><br />Bosnia scored again, as did Turkey and everyone seemed thrilled with what was to be a tie, and then in the last 9 minutes of the game Bosnia scored once again. The crowd went wild, and everyone went home happy and safe. The atmosphere in the stadium can only be described as nuts, however, the aftermath- once the fans filled the streets, was nothing compared the the 2006 Stanley Cup finals. There were no women flashing the crowds, no men hanging from streetlights and barely any honks. Just large crowds of jovial men happy that their team was was game closer to the World Cup finals.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-69491696495773480672007-05-19T11:16:00.001-07:002007-05-19T11:57:40.390-07:00SrebrenicaThe realities of the war can still be seen and felt here; Srebrenica was a town hit hard by ethnic cleanising. More than 8,000, persons were killed. The citizens of this area , which is now in the Republica Serbska part of Bosnia and Herzegovina want the government to make a special grant to the town, to afford it the status of a specialized free zone. They have come to Sarajevo to protest. We came upon the refugee camp last week. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9BjxyajJI/AAAAAAAAAcg/4SS26rtuRC0/s1600-h/artspectacular+063.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9BjxyajJI/AAAAAAAAAcg/4SS26rtuRC0/s400/artspectacular+063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066340188731116690" border="0" /></a> A hudge orthodox cemetary<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9BLhyajGI/AAAAAAAAAcI/wRLbvnC9yIg/s1600-h/artspectacular+047.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9BLhyajGI/AAAAAAAAAcI/wRLbvnC9yIg/s400/artspectacular+047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066339772119288930" border="0" /></a> The front of the camp<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9BMhyajHI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/-xyVqUnjCGA/s1600-h/artspectacular+061.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9BMhyajHI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/-xyVqUnjCGA/s400/artspectacular+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066339789299158130" border="0" /></a> One of the many enormous muslim cemetaries. Many of the parks have been turned into make-shift burial grounds.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9BNhyajII/AAAAAAAAAcY/XsXDj6JJpkU/s1600-h/artspectacular+054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9BNhyajII/AAAAAAAAAcY/XsXDj6JJpkU/s400/artspectacular+054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066339806479027330" border="0" /></a> The newly rebuilt/ reminance of the bombed maternity hospital one of the first targets in the war.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9AVByajDI/AAAAAAAAAbw/MvS17Jtz4tU/s1600-h/artspectacular+045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9AVByajDI/AAAAAAAAAbw/MvS17Jtz4tU/s400/artspectacular+045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066338835816418354" border="0" /></a> A recent descision from the Hauge stated that Serbia, not Repulika Serbska, as a nation was not responcible for the genocide in Srebrenica<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9AVhyajEI/AAAAAAAAAb4/8-bYY5z_PX4/s1600-h/artspectacular+046.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk9AVhyajEI/AAAAAAAAAb4/8-bYY5z_PX4/s400/artspectacular+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066338844406352962" border="0" /></a>These people have arrived several weeks ago and have set up camp here in this parking lot.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-45702988126682260692007-05-19T10:23:00.000-07:002007-05-19T23:48:07.050-07:00Mine Awareness<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk83Fhyai_I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/YCNVcZ0HS9M/s1600-h/artspectacular+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk83Fhyai_I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/YCNVcZ0HS9M/s400/artspectacular+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066328673923795954" border="0" /></a> The Mine<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk83HByajAI/AAAAAAAAAbY/3XGQUlLTUbE/s1600-h/artspectacular+014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk83HByajAI/AAAAAAAAAbY/3XGQUlLTUbE/s400/artspectacular+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066328699693599746" border="0" /></a> Waiting for the police<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk83IRyajBI/AAAAAAAAAbg/tdIywABXgBA/s1600-h/artspectacular+015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rk83IRyajBI/AAAAAAAAAbg/tdIywABXgBA/s400/artspectacular+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066328721168436242" border="0" /></a> The address we gave to the police to try to find us<br /><br />Last Saturday Paul and I took off from our flat in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ciglane</span> for a walk in the sun into town. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ciglane</span> is a very urban neighbourhood situated on a hill facing the city. It is a series of buildings at various points in the hill and it's pretty cool safe neighbourhood.<br /><br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Nostalgic</span> about our nearing departure Paul and I looked extra closely at the details of our neighbourhood trying to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">capture</span> them on film and in our minds. Then looking down into the grass, a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">stretch</span> where the concrete building end, Paul noticed something unusual under the 11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">th</span> guard rail in the shade of a tree. He called me over and asked what I thought it was. Instantly I flashed back to our mine awareness presentations.<br /><br />Mines look like small brown hockey pucks that are brownish in colour( check )<br />Mines are usually found in fields but after rain storms they can be shifted and moved into residential areas ( check)<br />Do not touch a mine and resist the desire to poke it with a stick ( check )<br /><br />We looked at the "mine" with a cautious distance. We resisted poking it with a stick We kept walking. Then several meters further over come with strong sense of responsibility <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">and</span> guilt we turned back. If we did not report the mine what if someone got hurt? What if some child picked it up? Or the rain moved it closed to the street and a car drove over it?<br /><br /><br />Yup it sure looked <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">minesque</span>. Unsure of what to do we called all the people we had logged into our phone. Finally after several calls we learned the number to the police ( something we should have probably known ourselves) . The operator spoke limited English and the word <span style="font-weight: bold;">mine</span> had to be repeated 8 times before she seemed to get what we were trying to say. We hung up and crossed our fingers that she understood our location.<br /><br /><br />1 hour and once ice cream later, the police showed up. They smiled politely as they got out of their car and let us lead them to the mine. Officer one looked at it closely, hesitated for a moment, and then picked it up and threw it in the large dumpster near by. Paul and I stared at each other slightly horrified and embarrassed. The officers took our names as a formality and said something in Bosnia which I could only assume <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">meant</span> " you idiots tore us away from the soccer game for this". Once they pulled away Paul reached back into the dumpster to take a closer look at the plastic 'mine like" object which we can only now presume is the top of a giant water jug.<br /><br />At least no one got hurt.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-24353404012971716042007-05-07T00:23:00.000-07:002007-05-07T01:57:24.947-07:00Our Love On<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7gPNIA6VI/AAAAAAAAAa4/p8btoHwqBSw/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7gPNIA6VI/AAAAAAAAAa4/p8btoHwqBSw/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061729583036950866" border="0" /></a> Homemade calamari<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7gPtIA6WI/AAAAAAAAAbA/BcSsqGzmhF0/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7gPtIA6WI/AAAAAAAAAbA/BcSsqGzmhF0/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061729591626885474" border="0" /></a> yesterday's diner<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7gQNIA6XI/AAAAAAAAAbI/frWRxHJjyMs/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7gQNIA6XI/AAAAAAAAAbI/frWRxHJjyMs/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061729600216820082" border="0" /></a> Our basil<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7d9tIA6QI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/6-pIM3Wwh_I/s1600-h/Hiking+004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7d9tIA6QI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/6-pIM3Wwh_I/s400/Hiking+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061727083365984514" border="0" /></a> Coffee on our balcony<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7d-dIA6RI/AAAAAAAAAaY/wZ1PJJEflMA/s1600-h/skiiing+on+bosnian+independance+day+013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7d-dIA6RI/AAAAAAAAAaY/wZ1PJJEflMA/s400/skiiing+on+bosnian+independance+day+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061727096250886418" border="0" /></a> Chicken truck in our neighbourhood<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7d_9IA6SI/AAAAAAAAAag/Z0967bThXgQ/s1600-h/Tuzla+070.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7d_9IA6SI/AAAAAAAAAag/Z0967bThXgQ/s400/Tuzla+070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061727122020690210" border="0" /></a> Street Art in Tuzla<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7eCtIA6TI/AAAAAAAAAao/X4Bz6TAspwY/s1600-h/Tuzla+103.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7eCtIA6TI/AAAAAAAAAao/X4Bz6TAspwY/s400/Tuzla+103.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061727169265330482" border="0" /></a> A replica of a small village from centuries ago<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7eEdIA6UI/AAAAAAAAAaw/YEG6D2XlGvA/s1600-h/Tuzla+117.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rj7eEdIA6UI/AAAAAAAAAaw/YEG6D2XlGvA/s400/Tuzla+117.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061727199330101570" border="0" /></a><br /> Paul and Amra in the village in Tuzla<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >As you are about to approach a time when you know you have to leave a place something in you begins to transform. A nostalgia builds that makes you miss the place you are about to leave before you have left it. Everything becomes more animated, more green, and more fun. It appears as though Paul and I have reached this point in the year, with six weeks left it go. We have finally found a groove, are enjoying our friends, the weather, the people. Last week we even found a fish market in town. Now as you know we struggled to find fish of any kind on the coast, and there in front of our noses, in the city we live in, which is nowhere from the sea, fresh fish of all kinds for dirt cheap prices. The Calamari and Salmon we had been dreaming of is now at our disposal.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >Even the last few days, full of intense rain and fog, have felt romantic and enchanting. Perhaps the only way to love a place is to know you are leaving. As you know Paul and I were quite burned out before Spring Break, here is the new list of reasons why we now </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >have our love on</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" > for Sarajevo (and Tuzla).</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >The Markets: </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >The markets are places where food lovers can get their sensory fill. It's all about walking around and to check who has the best stuff out. As summer has gotten closer the market has gotten more colourful. We can now get half a kilo of cherries for a dollar fifty. Fresh strawberries, lettuce, dill, peppers, mean that our fridge is constantly full of amazing produce to munch on. The market is literally down the hill from us. There we can also get our fill of DVDs flowers, and knock-off runners. It's truly amazing.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >Bubbly Sarajevska Water:</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >This is a new habit we have developed. Drinking tons and tons of carbonated water. With it's perfect sized bubbles you get all of the "ahhh" of drinking a pop but non of the calories. This habit will drive us into the poor house back at home where gassy water comes only in fancy bottles with expensive labels.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >Tuzla:</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" > A couple of weekends ago our friend Amra took us to her home town to meet her family. We stayed with her parents who adopted us for the weekend and made us feel loved. Amra's dad magically, on one of his 8 satellites, found the CBC for Paul which was coincidentally broadcasting 2 back to back Hockey night in Canada games. I was so relaxed I feel asleep on their couch. A bit hung over from the barbecue we had the night before which involved her family cooking delicious meats for us, and the kids (us) staying up till all hours of the night playing the guitar. There is nothing more soothing than hearing Canadian TV in the background. I felt like I was at home, and when I woke up I was surprised to find I was not actually on my mom's couch.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >Our balcony: </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >We hauled stuff off of it and put it in the storage room. We scrubbed it until you could eat right off of it. We weeded our flower box garden, and brought out our basil plants. Now the balcony over looking the city, with it's little coal barbecue and two lawn chairs, is quite possibly the most perfect place in all of Sarajevo. Here you can sit and have a coffee, enjoy a book and some light conversation and soak up the sun.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >Improving my Bosnian and Smiling:</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" > Ever since I have been trying to speak more and smile a lot a people, everyone seems to be more friendly back. Maybe because the summer makes everyone inevitably less miserable, maybe because you just have to show overt happiness to get happiness back. Smiles are infectious.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >6 more weeks:</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >Officially there are only six more weeks of work left. And perhaps in the end it is this that is keeping us pumped. When we began this year, it was impossible to separate our life from work. Some nights we would stay till 8pm, only to go home eat sleep and do it all over again. We have finally found the balance, and leave our work for the most part at the school, which we leave promptly after it is time to go home. This separation between work and LIFE is what makes being here so much more rewarding.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >So now with all this new found optimism, which might make some of you pessimist want to vomit in your mouths, we are ready to enjoy the next little bit like it's the last little bit we will have here. Which it is.</span>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-23205333259582431062007-04-30T09:07:00.000-07:002007-05-03T06:29:05.664-07:00Still No fish<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjYXA9IA6NI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/zryb17e6VMs/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+160.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059256536572946642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjYXA9IA6NI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/zryb17e6VMs/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+160.jpg" border="0" /></a> Zippers<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjYXBdIA6OI/AAAAAAAAAaA/gYMLkBLatcE/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+162.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059256545162881250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjYXBdIA6OI/AAAAAAAAAaA/gYMLkBLatcE/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+162.jpg" border="0" /></a> Pastries at a place called " Butter King"<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjYXBtIA6PI/AAAAAAAAAaI/u61yLFjKcEg/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+161.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059256549457848562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjYXBtIA6PI/AAAAAAAAAaI/u61yLFjKcEg/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+161.jpg" border="0" /></a> Paul looking for fish in Diocletian's Palace<br /><br />It is Monday and we are giving up! Again we woke up early. Again a couple of Sardines at the fishing table that the man in front of the line beat us to. Today was our final attempt. After the failure of the "fish table" we got in the car at 9:00 am and drove to the second largest city in Croatia, Split. Surely this coastal port would have some fish for us to purchase. Aimlessly we walked around town once home of Diocletian and the centre of civilization. We had a pastry, popped into the ridiculously priced Diesel store and eventually headed to the market (a bustling meeting point of smells and sounds). We bought some <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">steaks</span>, artichokes, asparagus, home made olive oil sold in a plastic water bottle that could possible be the best olive oil I have ever tasted, and homemade cheese.<br /><br />We also found zippers, plants, imitation sunglasses and just about everything else under the Adriatic sun. Except for fish! What gives?<br /><br />* Disclaimer: We were thinking maybe it's not fishing season, but plenty of restaurants serve the catch of the day. We could eat fish if we wanted to but we don't love the way they prepare it here. It's heavy and greasy and takes away from the delicateness of the fish. We are not sea food snobs- we just think we could do it better.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-31327510699285080202007-04-29T13:11:00.001-07:002007-05-03T06:27:06.942-07:00No Fish on the Adratic<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAtNIA6II/AAAAAAAAAZQ/HhURYuaXoec/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAtNIA6II/AAAAAAAAAZQ/HhURYuaXoec/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058950533038008450" border="0" /></a> Not the FISH BOAT<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAtdIA6JI/AAAAAAAAAZY/B5mSp5CpwlM/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+078.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAtdIA6JI/AAAAAAAAAZY/B5mSp5CpwlM/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058950537332975762" border="0" /></a> Hello Crystal Clear Waters<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAttIA6KI/AAAAAAAAAZg/q3ijOa7W7GU/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+087.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAttIA6KI/AAAAAAAAAZg/q3ijOa7W7GU/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058950541627943074" border="0" /></a> Ready to jump in.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAuNIA6LI/AAAAAAAAAZo/K7GH9Sybf8w/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+033.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAuNIA6LI/AAAAAAAAAZo/K7GH9Sybf8w/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058950550217877682" border="0" /></a> Palm trees!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAudIA6MI/AAAAAAAAAZw/-wWnlS1saRM/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+150.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjUAudIA6MI/AAAAAAAAAZw/-wWnlS1saRM/s400/BaskaVodaCroatia+150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058950554512844994" border="0" /></a> Paul, Palm Tree, 80's beach hair<br /><br /><br />Paul and I are determined to become Master Chefs. Coming to the Adriatic we had visions of Jamie Oliver frying up some fresh fish with herbs and butter.<br /><br />"Make sure to check for clear eyes" , Jamie's brightly obnoxious British accent keeps ringing in my ears...<br /><br />A fish market is situated 5 minutes from our apartment here in Brela Voda. We made sure to be near fresh fish and to make Jamie proud. The market operates from 6:30-8:30 am. Too early of a wake-up call for vacation but alas anything for freshness.<br />"Freshness can not be compromised", Jamie chimes.<br /><br />On our first morning we arrived at the "market" at 8:00 am with a bounce, surprised to find it to be more of a fish table, rather than the bustling fish throwing market we envisioned.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">4</span> fish were left to choose from and our hearts sank. Disappointed we spoke to some locals who said we got up too late , but to not worry the fishing boats would come it at 5:30 pm to a town about 10 minutes drive from here. Sweet!<br /><br />At 4:30 pm we put on our <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">let's find fish outfits </span>and headed to Makarska where there were no fish boats to be found on the main Pier. We continued to wait for another 2 hours, harassed more locals in broken Croatian/Bosnia/Polish/English asking where the fresh fish were. Patiently we waited look out from the bay until finally we could wait no longer. With long faces, and grumbly tummies we gave up and decided to head back, put some chicken on the Barby and try again today.<br /><br />Slightly hung over, we pulled ourselves out of bed at 7am in hopes of the fresh catch of the morning. Sadly we arrived at the fish table to find it empty. Do fisher people not fish on Sundays? Is all the fish on the Adriatic actually frozen inland and then shipped back. What exactly is going on? Still two more days to go.<br /><br />Our spirits low we decided to deal with our grief by hitting the beach. Paul found a jelly fish and a sea urchin but neither could be consumed. He got a tan in the process.. I absorbed the sun and let my hair get salty from the sea.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-72865829341710987092007-04-28T04:25:00.000-07:002007-04-29T13:11:04.655-07:00The inability to relax only exists when you have not found the right place to relax.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjM1zNIA6HI/AAAAAAAAAZI/0aFHH3TZlsA/s1600-h/App1_photo8.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjM1zNIA6HI/AAAAAAAAAZI/0aFHH3TZlsA/s320/App1_photo8.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058445960280074354" border="0" /></a> Our Patio at Villa Ana<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjM1Z9IA6GI/AAAAAAAAAZA/jv7krUK4uxs/s1600-h/villaana.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjM1Z9IA6GI/AAAAAAAAAZA/jv7krUK4uxs/s320/villaana.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058445526488377442" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.villaana.com/main.htm"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.villaana.com/main.htm" alt="" border="0" /></a> Villa Ana<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjM0EdIA6DI/AAAAAAAAAYo/yGFre3KY1DI/s1600-h/BaskaVodaCroatia+002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RjM0EdIA6DI/AAAAAAAAAYo/yGFre3KY1DI/s320/BaskaVodaCroatia+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058444057609562162" border="0" /></a> The Ocean View<br />It is the end of April and the temperature is lovely in the mid twenties. A few fluffy clouds are in the sky. To my left is a mountain scattered with pine trees. In front of me the Adriatic Sea with it's turquoise beaches. To the right olive and orange trees blossoming. Come to <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Brela Voda</span> " <span style="font-style: italic;">Experience the Adriatic as it once was"</span>.<br /><br />This is not an ad. I promise. The tag line for Croatian seems a bit "what the hell does that mean?", but once you are here in this serene town which this time of year only has a few tourists, where prices are manageable and you can get a newly renovated flat with a brand new stainless steal kitchen and a terrace big enough to ride a tricycle on, you really start to understand. Italy is over run with tourists inflating prices to astronomical levels. Ditto with the French Rivera where only Paris Hilton can afford a flat.<br /><br />Here at <span style="font-weight: bold;">Villa Ana</span> where we are staying the family who owns this establishment hugged us when we arrived. Today Paul returned after half an hour with a hand full of fresh rosemary, fresh Bay leaves, and a Basil plant still in the pot that they insisted he take, after Paul informed them that the reason we chose their very fine Villa was because had a beautiful kitchen that could indulge our love for cooking and eating. (The wife also suggested we let her gut the fish we are planning on purchasing later in town and grilling on the barbecue which we insisted on bringing from Sarajevo.)<br /><br />We are happier than larks. Paul is taking an after noon nap. Our day has consisted of getting up to go to the market and buying fresh strawberries and peas, walking 4 km to the next town via the beach, working out, eating lunch on our terrace, and basking in the sun.<br /><br />It's hard to not feel relaxed here. Especially since we have transported most of our home in Sarajevo for this 5 day lap of luxury. All you stars on the French Rivera with you yhats and your personal chefs each your heart out. I have Paul as my personal chef and if I ask him nicely maybe he'll even take of his shirt while peeling carrots. The smell of the sea is on my nose, the breeze is blowing through my hair... and I paid only 45 euros a night to get it!Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-43008892717525219492007-04-20T12:42:00.000-07:002007-04-20T13:12:40.768-07:00I am sick of spring!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikchprMIVI/AAAAAAAAAYI/moG-A76Bm4A/s1600-h/Mostar+048.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikchprMIVI/AAAAAAAAAYI/moG-A76Bm4A/s320/Mostar+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055603421148356946" border="0" /></a>Here I am looking sweet in Mostar.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikciZrMIWI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/NK_BToPCKvg/s1600-h/Mostar+080.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikciZrMIWI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/NK_BToPCKvg/s320/Mostar+080.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055603434033258850" border="0" /></a>A pretty colour; rusty, bullet ridden, yellow.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rikci5rMIXI/AAAAAAAAAYY/4JSAXaMV5gA/s1600-h/Hiking+046.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rikci5rMIXI/AAAAAAAAAYY/4JSAXaMV5gA/s320/Hiking+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055603442623193458" border="0" /></a>Jahorina, BiH<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikcjZrMIYI/AAAAAAAAAYg/eM-e9SHw27E/s1600-h/Hiking+101.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikcjZrMIYI/AAAAAAAAAYg/eM-e9SHw27E/s320/Hiking+101.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055603451213128066" border="0" /></a>At the top of the mountain that Trebevic in the middle of Sarajevo. Formely known as a front line during the war.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikbZJrMIRI/AAAAAAAAAXo/Tov8nObq2iU/s1600-h/IstanbultTurkey+077.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikbZJrMIRI/AAAAAAAAAXo/Tov8nObq2iU/s320/IstanbultTurkey+077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055602175607841042" border="0" /></a>Outside the Blue Mosque in Istanbul.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikbZprMISI/AAAAAAAAAXw/0GVkOSe2J1E/s1600-h/IstanbultTurkey+129.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikbZprMISI/AAAAAAAAAXw/0GVkOSe2J1E/s320/IstanbultTurkey+129.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055602184197775650" border="0" /></a>If I uploaded the correct picture you will see a plane in the middle. Cliche as it is, I really like this photo.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikbaJrMITI/AAAAAAAAAX4/qUkAKAQL-pw/s1600-h/IstanbultTurkey+235.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikbaJrMITI/AAAAAAAAAX4/qUkAKAQL-pw/s320/IstanbultTurkey+235.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055602192787710258" border="0" /></a>This is fifteen hundred year old Hagia Sofia. It started as a church, converted to a mosque and is currently a museum. It looks next practice Raelianism. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikbbJrMIUI/AAAAAAAAAYA/XriJs8pxkGE/s1600-h/Mostar+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RikbbJrMIUI/AAAAAAAAAYA/XriJs8pxkGE/s320/Mostar+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055602209967579458" border="0" /></a>Mostar today is far more shot up than Sarajevo.<br /><br />The weather of recent has been relentless. We haven't seen a cloud in two weeks, the breeze has been gentler than a baby lamb resting in a dewy meadow and it hasn't dropped below twenty in the longest time. Utter crap! We're moving home.<br />Two weeks or so ago we went to Istanbul. Last Saturday we went to Mostar. Last Sunday we climbed a mountain. Tomorrow we are going to Tuzla. Here are some pictures.<br />"What do you call cheese that isn't yours?"<br />"Nacho cheese."<br />I lifted that from a movie.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-24554108468497829392007-03-29T12:50:00.000-07:002007-03-29T13:51:15.836-07:001 day to go<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RgwiQyYW8II/AAAAAAAAAO0/zGlNKdj87XQ/s1600-h/february+sucess+orientation+029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RgwiQyYW8II/AAAAAAAAAO0/zGlNKdj87XQ/s320/february+sucess+orientation+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047446954172674178" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Specimen one (1): Clearly this man requires a break</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > as he is seen here wearing a chicken mask as</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > a coping mechanism</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RgwfsCYW8GI/AAAAAAAAAOk/NLfUmJSepcQ/s1600-h/european+winter+holiday+399.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RgwfsCYW8GI/AAAAAAAAAOk/NLfUmJSepcQ/s320/european+winter+holiday+399.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047444123789226082" border="0" /></a></span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Specimen two (2): based on the crazed look in her</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > eyes and the slight foaming of the mouth we can</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > clearly observe she is heading for meltdown</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">As a teacher holidays and breaks become e</span>vents of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">great</span> importance. The countdown started about two weeks prior. Paul and I have been tallying the seconds and minutes and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">tomorrow</span> at 2:15 pm we will be officially on spring break!</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >This break seems essential for various reasons but here are just a fee.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><br /></span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >* </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Hate ON</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >: a term coined by James Foss, meaning to carry hate on your sleeve, or to be consumed by negative <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">feelings</span> pessimism, anger, discontent, and at times bewilderment. Paul and I have " had our hate on" as of late. It is difficult to take the hate on in fact.<br /><br /></span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >* </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Spring time= burn time:</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > As the weather warms everyone takes out their winter supply of plastic bottles, bags, and containers to burn them on the side of the road. Air quality= poor. Visibility= poor. This is a great metaphor since we are quite burned out ourselves.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >* </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Inefficient poop slide</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >: Korea had the squatter, Bosnia has the poorly designed toilettes wthat leave poo <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">smears</span>. You have to use a toilette brush each time you poop. I'm getting pretty tired of having to do this , and quite honestly I'm okay just leaving it there <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">until</span> it's gotten <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">exceptionally</span> gross. ( what have we become?)</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><br />*</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > Aerobics:</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > Paul and I have been nominated king and queen of our aerobics club because we are such frequent visitors.. Since we are cheap we try to get the most out of our 30 dollar a month <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">membership</span> and have been going up to 4 /5 times a week. For working out in large groups of 60 women ( plus 2-3 men) we deserve time off to eat <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Donair</span> all week in Turkey.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><br />Check it out on</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">http://www.aerobic.co.ba/index.html </span>and click on video ( <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">atmosfera</span> u <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">nasu</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">clubu</span>) if you are patient maybe you can see us in action.<br /><br /></span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >*Ant Infestation and radiator explosion</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >: Maybe because we are slobs and leave crumbs around. Maybe because we closed off the heater and caused pressure build up leading to an explosion of water. Maybe because these kinds of things just happen to Paul and I.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><br />*Time Change: </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >As you get older the time change really hits you like a ton of bricks. Ever since we thought the time change was going to happen ( three weeks ago) to last weekend ( when the time change actually happened) our now highly regulated <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">circadian</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">rhythms</span> have been messed up.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><br />Having said all this Paul and I fully understand we don't quite know how to relax. I worry our week in Istanbul will be spent stressing about all the things we need to see when there, and do when we get back... but at least there will be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Donair</span>.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >2 more days to take off.</span>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-89496993987911417102007-03-11T00:26:00.000-08:002007-03-11T01:24:54.209-08:00Dinner with the Fortunes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RfPHxasJA4I/AAAAAAAAAOY/z_bYWHO8Dh0/s1600-h/food+fotos+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RfPHxasJA4I/AAAAAAAAAOY/z_bYWHO8Dh0/s320/food+fotos+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040592059749696386" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RfPHDqsJA2I/AAAAAAAAAOI/UJwxRnSrxWg/s1600-h/food+fotos+023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RfPHDqsJA2I/AAAAAAAAAOI/UJwxRnSrxWg/s320/food+fotos+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040591273770681186" border="0" /></a><br />Paul and I drive up and up and up the hill to Yuewn and Alistar's new home for a Saturday night dinner. Little do we know what we are in for. As we enter Yuwen is cooking what looks to be a feast of Chinese delights and the twins grab our hands and lead us upstairs to a puppet show complete with disco lights, sound effects and of course puppets. Pumped about their efforts they give us a double feature and perform twice, until finally their tire themselves out and go to bed.<br /><br />We sit down, all 10 of us at a massive table as Yuwen keeps bringing dish after dish after dish of amazing Asian cuisines. My heart begins to beat faster as the smells make me feel as though I've had 8 rather than 2 glasses of wine. Sadly our camera sits at home in a dark corner and all I have is the camera inside my brain that keeps trying to take picture after picture of this feast worthy of Michelin stars. I think for a moment that perhaps we have entered an Asian restaurant where all of the food has model replica of plastic and wax and at any moment I will bite down and realise someone is playing a cruel joke. Luckily the food is not plastic!!!! It is full of rich flavour, spice and TASTE! I keep grinning like an idiot each time I take a bite and keep complimenting the hosts who by now are beginning to see that I am getting a bit rowdy as my wine glass magically remains full even though I am certain I keep taking large reckless sips.<br /><br />I try to make conversation to slow down my pace but like a fat kid on candy I can't stop. At some point 5 hours of eating and drinking have passed. Everyone is laughing and talking. I have given everyone kisses, made dirty jokes and attempted to give Julie a piggy back ride. (Why do I feel like I want to carry people when I have had a lot to drink)<br /><br /><br />We are ten people at the table. We are from Canada, Poland, Scotland, the US, China, and Bosnia. We are sharing an Asian meal in Sarajevo. We are between the ages of 27 and 72. All at different points in our life span, in our trajectory. We have met and come together to share a meal and laugh. There is little more fantastic than that.<br /><br />My eyes begin to blur. The buzz of the wine begins to wear into a dizzying sate of tiredness. We jump into a taxi and roll down the hill and back up another to our downtown apartment. It is late now and too dark to see anything but the blinking lights of town below. We crash soundly on our pillows not thinking of the exterior of our bedroom wall that faces the sky. Shot out bricks- remembrance scars of a time we were not a part of, are hauntingly behind our heads. I wonder the next day how people made it through the war without food and laughter for such a long time. I try not to dwell, even though the day is grey and I now face the shot out wall. There are some gyowza in the fridge we brought back last night to have for breakfast.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-58016741361507538562007-02-20T05:54:00.000-08:002007-02-20T06:02:12.810-08:00The Cat and The Princess<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rdr_AIn6RCI/AAAAAAAAANs/qHhStpKtotM/s1600-h/I+love+to+red+weeek+327.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033615911319913506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rdr_AIn6RCI/AAAAAAAAANs/qHhStpKtotM/s320/I+love+to+red+weeek+327.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rdr_Aon6RDI/AAAAAAAAAN0/fRE-7Q7pBeI/s1600-h/I+love+to+red+weeek+348.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033615919909848114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rdr_Aon6RDI/AAAAAAAAAN0/fRE-7Q7pBeI/s320/I+love+to+red+weeek+348.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Being a teacher has it's perks, like getting up at five in the morning to transform oneself into an actor from the cast of cats. Last Friday was " <em>Dress up as your favourite storybook character</em>" Day. Paul went as <strong>The Paper Bag Princess</strong> and I was the <strong>Puss in Boots</strong>. Guess all of that make-up knowledge came to some good. </div>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-75318803580751179352007-02-11T08:03:00.000-08:002007-02-11T09:04:48.901-08:00Dubrovnik Take Two<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9H3In6RBI/AAAAAAAAANM/TOxCNpIGtRY/s1600-h/dubrovnik+take+2+007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9H3In6RBI/AAAAAAAAANM/TOxCNpIGtRY/s320/dubrovnik+take+2+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030318321329390610" border="0" /></a>So there you have it- the new hair cut. None of the 4 year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">olds</span> seemed to notice. Often they comment on change in a very honest way. I'm happy it didn't <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">offend</span> them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HKon6Q8I/AAAAAAAAAMk/sKbpm2UUF9I/s1600-h/dubrovnik+take+2+014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HKon6Q8I/AAAAAAAAAMk/sKbpm2UUF9I/s320/dubrovnik+take+2+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030317556825211842" border="0" /></a>We had to climb all of these stairs to get to the apartment we rented. At the end the Adriatic.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HLIn6Q9I/AAAAAAAAAMs/W-oDSt7lE94/s1600-h/dubrovnik+take+2+033.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HLIn6Q9I/AAAAAAAAAMs/W-oDSt7lE94/s320/dubrovnik+take+2+033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030317565415146450" border="0" /></a>I wish we had a boat to float in.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HLIn6Q-I/AAAAAAAAAM0/OKRHNrIHrNI/s1600-h/dubrovnik+take+2+026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HLIn6Q-I/AAAAAAAAAM0/OKRHNrIHrNI/s320/dubrovnik+take+2+026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030317565415146466" border="0" /></a>The road into old town.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HLYn6Q_I/AAAAAAAAAM8/TFizhio5iHY/s1600-h/dubrovnik+take+2+040.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HLYn6Q_I/AAAAAAAAAM8/TFizhio5iHY/s320/dubrovnik+take+2+040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030317569710113778" border="0" /></a>Who can resist cotton candy?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HLon6RAI/AAAAAAAAANE/ipw8bAQ2miQ/s1600-h/dubrovnik+take+2+057.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rc9HLon6RAI/AAAAAAAAANE/ipw8bAQ2miQ/s320/dubrovnik+take+2+057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030317574005081090" border="0" /></a>The flags or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Croatia</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Christianity</span> as part of the parade in old town.<br /><br /><br />Last Friday 2:15 pm rolls around; Paul, James and Myself are promptly fitted into the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">szkoda</span> as it screeches out of the school parking lot en route to the coast. Our minds not yet made up as to whether or not we should stick to the original plan and head north up the coast to a mellow town called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Makarska</span> for hiking and relaxing, or to take a left on the coast returning to Dubrovnik for the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Dubrovnik Day Festival</span>. After a stop at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Zdrova</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Voda</span> the famous l<span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">amb</span> roast on the side of the highway</span> restaurant for some roast sandwiches our ideas of health and exercise quickly get side swiped by promises of Marti <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Gras</span> like festivities in Dubrovnik. As I lay in the back seat of the car, James taking over my very important role as navigator, all I can see is the big dipper coming in and out of my view as we wind down the coastal highway.<br /><br />Dubrovnik as beautiful, sunny, and breathtaking as always proves to be in the thick of St. Blaze day the patron Saint of Dubrovnik. Needless to say the streets are full of families in their Sunday best and processions of Catholic Croatians in their national dress and outdoor masses. A very surreal and 'local" experience compared to the usual throng of tourists the town tends to see in the summer months. Perhaps not the wild atmosphere we were hoping for but still lovely and enchanting in a surreal hyper sensory kind of way.<br /><br />Back in Bosnia Paul has now moved both the ironing board and the drying rack into 'my make-up room". Which means we now share the room since Paul is the only one around here that touches the laundry.<br />Back for another week of school. Happy Valentine's Day to all of you lovers out there. Also good health to our dear friend Denny who just got out of the hospital from a bout of pneumonia. Good to see him back in the hood.Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-28858536600819901322007-01-26T04:41:00.000-08:002007-01-26T04:58:03.582-08:00Hiarcuts and Heels<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rbn32Wo-kpI/AAAAAAAAALE/gTYBUhdMVVk/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+142.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024319372470948498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rbn32Wo-kpI/AAAAAAAAALE/gTYBUhdMVVk/s320/Happy+Holidays+142.jpg" border="0" /></a> These are only the first set of stairs we have to climb<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rbn32Wo-kqI/AAAAAAAAALM/wOgIYsq6DAk/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+174.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024319372470948514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rbn32Wo-kqI/AAAAAAAAALM/wOgIYsq6DAk/s320/Happy+Holidays+174.jpg" border="0" /></a> Would you trust this man with your hair?<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rbn32mo-krI/AAAAAAAAALU/cGfzEbUGqic/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+183.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024319376765915826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rbn32mo-krI/AAAAAAAAALU/cGfzEbUGqic/s320/Happy+Holidays+183.jpg" border="0" /></a> This street is very narrow, the tram comes wizzing by.<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rbn342o-ksI/AAAAAAAAALc/peAdTXHgW38/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+148.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024319415420621506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/Rbn342o-ksI/AAAAAAAAALc/peAdTXHgW38/s320/Happy+Holidays+148.jpg" border="0" /></a> Lovely on sunny days<br /><div>In our corner… finally snow in Bosnia, we were openly crossing our finger for enough to fall so that we can have a snow day, but alas and alack global warming yet once again beat us to the punch. Everything has almost melted, and the roads are quite drivable.</div><div>Paul and I are trying to get in shape. Hopefully all the stairs we have to climb will help the cause. If anyone has any suggests for us regarding work out idea let us know. My personal goal is to get more active. Being in Blagovac I found we drove everywhere, and since we are now in the city we hope to park the car when we get home from work and actually get ourselves moving. January is almost over and I keep wondering where the time is going. We are back on<em> trying to figure out what to do next year</em> mode, which can be a bit stressful and daunting.<br />Tonight we are joining our friends the Teichows for a Men in Back night, which will consist of eating chili and popcorn and watching- you guessed it-<em>Men in Black</em>.</div><div> Tommorrow, I am heading for a much deserved hair cut and colour. I must say I am starting to look a bit like a ragamuffin so I’m pumped. My hair dresser speaks English well enough and seemed to do a good job last time on my cut. The colouring, however, makes me nervous since there are so many women here in Eastern European Apple Reds and Purples on their head. When did I get so square?<br />One of the things being here that I miss, which I missed quite a bit in Korea as well, is the lack of subculture. Everyone kidda looks, dresses and behaves relatively the same. No one stands out in bright colours, or eccentric garb. There are no punks, no hippies. Very homogonous and proper. The women also seem to really care about how beautiful they look. No one leaves the house without their high heels and fur coats. Well exept for Ms. P that is. </div>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37286860.post-59127639227567038062007-01-22T06:12:00.000-08:002007-01-22T06:35:23.717-08:00New Pad<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHu2o-kFI/AAAAAAAAAF8/1nhjUp1Zo6w/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+100.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022859092180242514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHu2o-kFI/AAAAAAAAAF8/1nhjUp1Zo6w/s320/Happy+Holidays+100.jpg" border="0" /></a> The front room<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHvmo-kGI/AAAAAAAAAGE/8uewskJeG6I/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+095.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022859105065144418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHvmo-kGI/AAAAAAAAAGE/8uewskJeG6I/s320/Happy+Holidays+095.jpg" border="0" /></a> The sitting room<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHv2o-kHI/AAAAAAAAAGM/wOONuWGtd3k/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+101.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022859109360111730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHv2o-kHI/AAAAAAAAAGM/wOONuWGtd3k/s320/Happy+Holidays+101.jpg" border="0" /></a> The dining room and kitchen<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHwGo-kII/AAAAAAAAAGU/5OKyopDQ-4k/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+102.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022859113655079042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHwGo-kII/AAAAAAAAAGU/5OKyopDQ-4k/s320/Happy+Holidays+102.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHw2o-kJI/AAAAAAAAAGc/NeeFogySZzU/s1600-h/Happy+Holidays+124.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022859126539980946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uiqMazE1Evs/RbTHw2o-kJI/AAAAAAAAAGc/NeeFogySZzU/s320/Happy+Holidays+124.jpg" border="0" /></a> The view from our windows<br /><br />Paul and I, after a bit of a rough ride, have finally moved to downtown Sarajevo. We found a place last Thursday and were fully moved in by Friday night and entertaining in our new digs by Saturday. The beauty of being transient is that you live you life rather minimally, therefore it was not too stressfully of a move. Our new place is an apartment on top of Sarajevo overlooking the city. The view is amazing and the place itself is lovely, clean and fully renovated. We plan to have buns of steel as there are, what feels like, 1000 steps to get to our pad from street level.<br />There is something about moving that gives one such rejuvenation and a new perspective on things. All weekend there was sun and unseasonably warm conditions which inspired me to go on a picture taking craze. Sarajevo is so beautiful in the sun and there are so many interesting details among the “garbage and the flowers”.<br /><br /><br /><div></div>Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575280916819754173noreply@blogger.com1