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logo

  • HOME
  • ABOUT
  • THE FAMILY ALBUM
  • ONCE UPON A TIME IN ROMANIA
    • ▸Bucharest, 1989: The days of Revolution
    • ▸I’ve also lived under communism
    • ▸Portraits of transition
    • ▸”Cabernet cu pepsi”
    • ▸Romania, 1990: Beyond the headlines
    • ▸“Mineriada” – My story
    • ▸Memorial of pain
  • WORK IN PROGRESS
    • ▸Barbershop
    • ▸Melancholic Identities
    • ▸Faces
    • ▸Fragmentary world
    • ▸Two
    • ▸Buddhist monks
    • ▸About windows and walls
    • ▸Mediterraneo
  • STORIES
    • ▸Alone, together
    • ▸Life and death in Varanasi
    • ▸Trans-Siberian – An experience of becoming
    • ▸Boxing in Havana
    • ▸Moving out of Escobar shadow
    • ▸One night at Htee Thein monastery
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – I misteri
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – La pasquetta
    • ▸Stalin’s Museum in Gori
    • ▸Havana: Between magic and decay
    • ▸Muay Thai for a day
    • ▸Cuban billboards
    • ▸Seeking a geisha
    • ▸Belfast’s murals: Behind and beyond
    • ▸Riding the Yangon’s ring train
    • ▸Bazar-Barakholka-Vernisazh
    • ▸An unexpected trip to Dhobi Ghat
    • ▸A different way to look at death
    • ▸Cannes under siege
    • ▸Inside the Guru’s kitchen
    • ▸Tibetan refugees
    • ▸The Golden Triangle: A Mecca of tribal diversity
    • ▸Bullfighting: Barbaric or art ?
    • ▸Crafts and traditions in Morroco
    • ▸Glastonbury with God
  • TRAVEL
    • Cuba
      • ▸The show must go on (part 1)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 2)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 3)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 4)
    • France
      • ▸Paris
      • ▸Paris. Again
    • Greece
      • ▸Mount Athos
      • ▸Postcards from Santorini
      • ▸Athens
      • ▸Mykonos – The picture-perfect Island
    • Germany
      • ▸Berlin
    • Vietnam
      • ▸Four days in Hanoi
      • ▸Cruising through the misty Halong Bay
    • India
      • ▸Portraits of Kashmir
      • ▸Rishikesh – Spiritual marketplace
      • ▸Life on the Sidewalk
    • Ireland
      • ▸The capital of pubs
      • ▸Ireland in ten days
    • Israel
      • ▸Israel in black & white
    • Colombia
      • ▸Colombia
      • ▸Paisas, coffee and much more
      • ▸Streets of Bogota – From Dystopia to Hope
      • ▸Life along the magical Magdalena River
      • ▸A non-touristy guide to Cartagena’s Caribbean paradise
    • Myanmar
      • ▸Min-ga-la-ba Myanmar
      • ▸Up and down on the hills of Shan State
    • Japan
      • ▸Tokyo
      • ▸Springtime in Kyoto
    • Portugal
      • ▸Life at the edge of Europe
    • Russian Federation
      • ▸The unexpected Moscow
      • ▸White Nights in St. Petersburg
    • Italy
      • ▸Rome
      • ▸Random Sicily
      • ▸Vedi Napoli e poi mori
      • ▸Venice
      • ▸Vanishing Venice
    • Morocco
      • ▸Sunset, camel rides and tea in Erg Chebi
      • ▸Medinas: Morocco’s hidden cities
      • ▸Morocco outskirts
      • ▸Djemaa El Fna encounters
      • ▸Surf and hippies
      • ▸The road of the One thousand kasbahs
      • ▸Amazigh – Berber – Free men
    • Georgia
      • ▸Postcards from Georgia
      • ▸The Many Faces of Tbilisi
    • Nepal
      • ▸Kathmandu Valley
    • Romania
      • ▸Romania to go
      • ▸Maramures
      • ▸Tara Motilor
    • Jordan
      • ▸Bedouin Trails
    • Turkey
      • ▸From Turkey with love
      • ▸Ballooning Cappadocia
      • ▸Where East meets West
      • ▸Street life, Istanbul-style
    • Mexico
      • ▸Finding Mexico City
    • Malaysia
      • ▸Transit KL
    • UK
      • ▸London
      • ▸Grab your kilt and bring your pipes
    • Sweden
      • ▸Stockholm
    • Spain
      • ▸Off-season Andalusia
    • Thailand
      • ▸Bangkok, year 2555
      • ▸Life in Pai
      • ▸Thailand
    • Laos
      • ▸Luang Prabang – The City of ultimate Zen
    • Poland
      • ▸Why I love Poland
    • Estonia, Latvia & Lithuania
      • ▸Neighbors, but not relatives
      • ▸Patarei – A little slice of Hell
    • Findland
      • ▸A sunny day in Helsinki
    • Denmark
      • ▸Copenhagen
  • SINGLES
  • CONTACT
  • MY BOOKS
  • MY VIDEOS
  • Terms and Conditions
  • Cookie Policy (EU)
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Life at the edge of Europe

 

Narrow streets, red tile covered roofs, the smell of roasted chestnuts, tavernas and art-nouveau shops, “azulejos” walls covered in clothing that hangs to dry, “electricos” – the tram with mahogany chairs, “fado” – the song of sadeness and nostaligia for the lost love, the prettiest light and the most beautiful sidewalks in the world, this is the Portugal where everything has its own story.

The history laden streets and the guitar sounds send you back to long gone times when adventurers looking for new lands and fortune left the ports on their sailing ships. Freedom floats in the air, music sounds through open windows and women in flourished dresses seem to invite you in their lively coloured houses. I tasted a “pasteis de nuta” in the Antiga Confeitaria de Belem. I drank Porto wine, vinho verde, ginginha, capirinha and manny others that I don’t remember. I got lost on the streets of Alfama – the lucky quarter that survived after the devastating earthquake in 1755. In Ericeira I got a haircut in a timeless barbershop and in Evora I saw a bizarre room decorated entirely with the bones 5.000 dead people: The Capela dos Ossos.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life at the edge of Europe

 

Narrow streets, red tile covered roofs, the smell of roasted chestnuts, tavernas and art-nouveau shops, “azulejos” walls covered in clothing that hangs to dry, “electricos” – the tram with mahogany chairs, “fado” – the song of sadeness and nostaligia for the lost love, the prettiest light and the most beautiful sidewalks in the world, this is the Portugal where everything has its own story.

The history laden streets and the guitar sounds send you back to long gone times when adventurers looking for new lands and fortune left the ports on their sailing ships. Freedom floats in the air, music sounds through open windows and women in flourished dresses seem to invite you in their lively coloured houses. I tasted a “pasteis de nuta” in the Antiga Confeitaria de Belem. I drank Porto wine, vinho verde, ginginha, capirinha and manny others that I don’t remember. I got lost on the streets of Alfama – the lucky quarter that survived after the devastating earthquake in 1755. In Ericeira I got a haircut in a timeless barbershop and in Evora I saw a bizarre room decorated entirely with the bones 5.000 dead people: The Capela dos Ossos.

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