I am still looking for my long lost paradise. Didn't find it yet. Today I wake up early in the morning, to go to some far away place called Braila (well, one hour and a half away, by train).
I was in the train station at 7AM in the morning, and the train station, once a magical place taking me to the seaside summer camp every year as a child, during school break (we were all so innocent going to Navodari Tabara, at the age of 14, i am amused just thinking about my adventures back then), and today, the same train station seems old and derelict, like a war time Russian movie. You don't believe me? Check these pictures.
The time had no patience with the old place.
A long industrial train full with cereals and grains.
On the back, you can see the old bread factory, a relic from the comunist era.
Old train engine, carrying oversized wagons.
A closer look.
And then, just some fun fact, showing some light into our political class, and their hypocrisy. Today in my native country is Mother Day, and Women Day, and the politicians from the town hall went outside to offer a flower to every woman they met. It is called Martisor, and it is a festivity marking the beginning of the spring. Even the Police is stopping women to give them flowers instead of fines.
And as I upload my pictures, I realise that I put them here for you, others, to see Romania through my eyes, but also for me, to remember old and new times, altogether. The range of my emotions is quite wide, as in the same time I feel disconnected from the present, but also linked to some ghostly ideas, defining a world that is not here anymore, living only in my memories.
I feel the loss, but in the same time I find something deep inside, giving me strenght. My inner being, my soul, is waking up, and it is #alive once again. Alive and thriving, to quote one of my favourite tags.