Calatoriile

Viata este o calatorie...in timp

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sunt cheia intelegerii trecutului si viitorului

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16 mar. 2012

Un parc pentru capricioasa/osul din tine!

Atunci cand am mai ajuns prin Madrid, de fiecare data am vizitat si parcul Capricho, ca tot am vorbit si-n penultima postare de parcuri mai naturale.

Desi acesta este un parc urban, este pastrat mai natural prin faptul ca nu are aleile pavate cu ciment sau betoane, si putem sa ne plimbam si sa ascultam zgomotul pasilor nostri prin tarana si sa simtim mirosul pamantului si ierbii verzi (pe care eu le ador!). In plus, intalnim la tot pasul veverite jucause, iar pe lac ratuste si lebede.



Parcul Capricho se afla in partea de nord-vest a orasului,  ocupa 14 hectare, iar construirea acestuia a fost comandata de catre Ducesa de Osuna intre anii 1787-1839.  Influente engleze, franceze si italiene se regasesc in amenajarea cu mult gust: labirinturi de arbusti, cladiri cu arhitectura romantica, lacuri, fantani arteziene, multe flori si vita de vie, un mic palat, o casa rustica deosebita cu gradina.- Casa de la Vieja (Casa Batranei)

Ducesa era considerata o femeie deosebit de inteligenta a timpului ei, si o protectoare a artistilor si toreadorilor. La moartea ei, primul nepot a mostenit parcul. in cele din urma proprietatea a fost scoasa la licitatie din cauza datoriilor, si a trecut in posesia familiei Bauer.(nimeni altii decat clanul Rothschild, pentru ca numele lor real este Bauer)  In 1974 primaria Madridului a devenit  proprietarul parcului, si a inceput sa-l restaureze. In anul 1999 Capricho era complet refacut, iar in 2001 a castigat diploma Europa Nostra.

In prezent, in timpul weekendurilor, de primavara si pana toamna, aici sunt organizate concerte, piese de teatru, dansuri. 

Dupa cum v-am obisnuit, va las in compania fotografiilor, pentru ca ele fac cat 1000 de cuvinte, nu? :)









 


 





Intrarea este libera.

3 mar. 2012

M-a lovit in seara asta muza scrisului. Vedeti mai jos ce-a iesit. Astept pareri.


PROLOGUE

It had all began 7 months ago....I recall it as if it was yesterday...Fresh enough memories are rushing behind my opened eyelids striking me, as if wanting to arrange themselves and solve a giant jigsaw that is still missing a whole bunch of pieces.
As I watch my boots walking one before the other, in a constant rhythm, as if they have a mind of their own, I breathe deep into my nostrils the chilled, perfumed air, foretelling of a close rain. It's the beginning of September, and as my granny used to say when I was a child, once you pass the 15th of August, a sunhat is of no need. Elders have such an ancient way of knowing how things work that it never ceases to amaze me...

My mind fully retreats from the evening surroundings and my glaze gets a starring sort of way, as I go back to review the past. I feel a raindrop fallen on my cheek, and then another...and another. This kind of September rain feels like a cleansing shower on my soul as I direct my steps to the little old fashioned peasant house where I grew up. It has no electricity, but still it can see from the street the mild light of the gas lamp glittering in the small windows. As I push the small green Iron Gate, it squeaks and allows me to enter as a faithful dog greats his master who was gone for some time. I get close to the ancient wooden table that awaits me to reveal the whole story. And what other better way is there to do this, if not by writing. I threw off my wet jacket on the nearby bed, sit on the chair and put my head between my palms. The sound of the dropping rain falls peacefully in the dust right before the window. It is time! It is time to put on paper this unusual story, my friend, so that, if I'll be gone by tomorrow you'll know it too...