Bucharest, Romania - The Podstel Experience

There comes a time when you meet your tribe.
The travellers.
People who are not scared to step out of their comfort zone.
People who go to places where others say it's dangerous, creepy, unfriendly, stereotyped...

The Podstel experience was a tribe gathering. A man and his peers who dared to travel around the world and then invited all the people he met where he was at a time: Bucharest, Romania.

I'll start by telling you my story involving these guys.
When I was living in Greece, I used Couchsurfing to meet travellers. I offered them a bed, a shower and a day trip to the hot srings of Thermopylae. They offered me their amazing stories, they made me dream and they cooked for me.
Dan, Sam Angela and another guy, stayed with me for a couple of nights. They were a bit too many for my tiny appartment but we made it.

Dan had a vision. He wanted to create Podstel. I sensed he was not exactly sure what Podstel would look like. Would it be a Hostel? Would it be a website? What would be it's form? Would it really exist? Would it make sense?

My newly made crazy British friends left. They continued their journey on foot, hitchhiking or cycling through Europe. To find the perfect spot to create Podstel.
One year ago they landed in Bucharest Romania.
A wonderful 1910's building, with an Austrian chandelier in the entrance and a big garden.
A hostel.
To make an idea work you have to start somewhere. This is the start. Grounding a bigger idea.
They touched it up, painted walls, got through the Balkan bureaucracy and created a cosy space for travellers.
Facebook works miracles (when it does not eat you up)
Daniel invited us - people he met on the way - in Bucharest Romania for the 1st Podstel Annual Gathering.

Exhited me, looked for tickets - found tickets - booked tickets - talked to friends about it - got a French friend on board - and counted the days to leave for this scary and heavily stereotyped city called Bucharest.

To get there, we had directions so perfect that could make any travel guide blush. Going through the city on a bus to get from the airport to Podstel gave us the first smells and images of the city. A typical Balkan city which was rich and then became poor, with warm people ready to help you if you need something.

When we arrived, we entered the gadren and there it was. Podstel. Greeted by Jason - the polyglot, multitalented young man. He gave us a warm welcome hug and and asked me an unexpected question:
"Give me the title of your favorite song"
Laughing inside as well as outside I said:
""Respect" by Aretha Franklin"
He put the song on while we gave him our papers and we were officially ready to meet our tribe.
The Travelling Tribe.

We spent three days walking around, eating what the locals ate, visiting churches and sites and choosing our gifts for back home. Bucharest became familiar. Wonderful buildings abandoned and falling apart, waiting for progress to transform them into shiny malls. Electric cables everywhere. Chaotic driving. Endless orthodox churches full of locals. No gypsies, no beggars (well just a few of them), no packs of stray dogs. All of our stereotypes crashed and fell into oblivion.

A loud, colourful city market, a huge Solomonian spa on the other side of the city, the old town with the tourist restaurants and kitch souvenir shops, the enormous megalomaniac Ceaousescu parliament building... It reminded me of Athens and its chaos. A typical Balkan city with many many contrasts.


Last but not least was the Podstel experience. 60 people from 20 countries. All smiling, all ready to speak and to listen, to share their experience of meeting Dan, Sam and Jason somewhere in the world. Such warm hearts, so much love, so many hugs and trusting gestures... Eating together, drinking together, dancing, singing, enjoying the moments.

Podstel is evolving. It is not just a hostel. In Dan's words it is a learning and sharing experience for locals and for travellers. It is a platform of ideas where everyone is welcome and accepted. It was so beautiful to see a boy become a girl the next day. It was so wonderful to see young people speak two, three, four different languages. So much talent and so much love...

Thank you guys for sharing your vision.
See you next year somewhere in the world.
In this big small world we all share.

info: Podstel, Bucharest Romania

What is the craziest thing you've done? Not an easy answer...

I had 4 couchsurfers last week in my house for a couple of days. God knows how we managed to fit in my tiny apartment... I do love to meet new people especially if they have the capacity to bond instantly, like we did with these guys....
So one of them wanted to interview me. Being the ego freak that I am, I said yes!!
He asked me a lot of questions and I was cool and the conversation flowed easily. Until he asked one question.

What is the CRAZIEST thing you've done?

I blocked completely. Sat in silence for a few moments and tried to think. But I had no answer.

The interview came to an end, the company moved on their journey and I was stuck with this question.

What is the CRAZIEST thing you've done?

Why could I not give an answer? What was bothering me? Days passed and this was still in my mind. I finally managed to give some answers.

First, I was bothered by the word "crazy". We tend to name our greatest fantasies, dreams and achievements as crazy. Crazy is negative, degrading. Crazy is a label I find bad. People tell me I'm crazy and I call myself crazy, but it hurts deep inside. To be crazy is to be abnormal, to not fit, to not go by the rules.

Second, once you do something, it's not "crazy" anymore. Things look crazy and difficult before you go out there and try them. Once you've done them they give way to a new "crazy" idea, the next big adventure.

Third, we tend to think as "crazy" our big adventures, our positive outcomes. Yes, I was in Italy picking up olives. Yes, I hitchhiked in Lesbos with my dog. Yes, I went to Cairo all alone for three days.

What about the everyday craziness? What about the adventure of seeing someone through illness and accompanying him to his death? Wasn't that a big adventure? What about the four year psychotherapy circle which helped me see inside myself? Wasn't that crazy? Am I not proud of these too? Of course I am!

Yes, I have done some crazy, memorable, wonderful things in my lifetime.... But next time, Daniel, don't ask about "crazy" ask about our biggest adventures.

Oh, and thanks for the inspiration, this is my first 2015 post.

PS. Team Podstel is a group of 5 boys and girls - and growing - who are promoting the creativity of travellers. Here is their FB page Good luck guys!

curiosity did not kill the cat

Curiosity killed the cat.
That's what I thought when I saw a cat climbing on a balcony.

Watching my thought. Analysing it. No, cusriosity did NOT kill the cat.

Curiosity actually led the cat to explore further. Curiosity actually helped the cat jump higher, smell lovely smells, meet other cats, watch the view from the roof top, find food, be alive.

There are some expressions that intergrate in our brains. They seem innocent but they give us unconscious messages. Do not be curious. Do not dare. Do not go further. You will get killed just like the cat.

I'd rather be curious than dead. I'd rather face my fears, go out, explore, talk about what makes me feel uncomfortable, climb the roof, watch the view.

I know I'll fall, I'll make mistakes, I'll do the wrong thing, I'll be embarassed. I'll be hurt.

But I'll get up again and be even more curious than before. I'll ask why did I fall, make mistakes? I'll be gentle with myself when I ask the questions. And then I'll get up for the new adventure. I'll prepare better. I will have the knowledge not to do what I do not need.

Curiosity will not kill me.
It will take me places.

letting go, changing

Beautiful, cold days...

This past month has been really busy. As soon aas I came back from Skyros I started teaching. I had forgotten how much I loved teaching. It is a performance as well as communication with human souls.

Art is also flooding in my life in a million ways.

A theatre play for Christmas. Every night we are rehearsing. Every night we are expected to exceed our limits, to perform better, to give everything on the stage. It's a life experience. Will we exceed our limits? Get out of our comfort zone?

This year I have made the big step. To use my vocal abilities with songs I really enjoy. For a couple of years I had not been into music. I was hiding. Or maybe waiting for the right moment. I was looking for a quitarist to accompany me. We did a couple of gigs and they were pretty successful. I came out of my closet and used my harmonicas and my small percussion instruments. It is nice to come out of the closet....

On the other hand I feel really exhausted with all these. I feel I need to focus on one or two things that I do really well instead of consuming myself with ten different projects.

I had a nice discussion the other day and this was the subject. It is nice to be creative and ever-moving. But having your fingers in many jars will only get you this far. I need to ask what is it that will give me passion and exhitement AS WELL AS money and independence.

As the year expires I need to make some decisions. Let go of the things that do not give me prograss and focus on the rest.

A wonderful journey: short film project

At the begining it was just an idea.

I had seen an advertisement about a short film festival.

Me and my new friends from the theatre where really exhited to be toghether, to learn about the art of the stage.

"What if we made a short film?" I thought.

I had no idea how to make a short film. But I did dare to dream and think about it. I even spoke out loud about it.

The idea was soon forgotten. But it was up there. Out in the open space.

Some days later, the idea confronted me again. My friend had come up with an idea for the plot.  She was going to write the screenplay. It sounded
really interesting and funny. The idea had grown a bit.

It stayed in the open space for a little bit longer.

Being the social bee I am, I met a photographer.We started talking about photography - I do love taking photographs. She had warm blue eyes and a big smile. She looked like a fairy princess. She told me she was also a film director, she had just finished her studies.

The idea grew even bigger when I asked her if she would direct our short film. She said yes!

The idea was a bright pink ballon on the sky now.

Months went by, but the idea was there and could not be ignored.

Fifteen actors had been cast.

It was time for the idea to come down from the sky. Become a reality.

Our budjet was tight, our time was limited. But then miracles started to happen. We found microphones and lights, we had our moms cook and friends helping us with little details. Our team was ready to proceed.

Filming started. One more journey. The traveller inside me was thrilled. A whole new world opened in front of my eyes! I felt like Alice in Wonderland! No. I WAS Alice in Wonderland....

There were days we felt exhausted. But there was this spark that gave us strength to continue.

Editing the film is another journey altoghether. Our wondeful director and the editor that came on board, are working overtime to give the film a final touch.

It has been a wonderful journey and it is not over yet.

I feel honoured to have such talented friends who know how to work as a team.

Thank you
Nadia, Evi, Aggela, Liana, Kostas, Stavroula, Lena, Lilia, Artemis, Athanasia, Greta, Ivi, Vaso, Rodoula, Mitsos, Giorgos, Apostolis, Dimitris, Dimitris and all the ones I forget now,

for playing such a big part in my life. For making my idea come true. For being such talented individuals. You are my creative family.

Thank you for the journey.

on talent

"I decided to stop moaning and do something about it."
Lately, I hear this phrase very often.

Young, beautiful, prosperous. Deprived of dreams and hopes. Yet, they decide to get out. Meet others. Use their talents.

They form small groups.

They are farmers, photographers, actors, painters, puppeteers, writers... Whatever the talent, it is put to use. Not for money. For salvation. Our talents are a life vest. Many talents put toghether are a life saving boat.

In my reality, there are lots of life saving boats. Warm smiles. Clear, sincere eyes. The ocean is really hard. The waves are big and strong.

But we will make it.

Once upon a time there was a blog...

Once upon a time there was a blog.

It was born out of a need of expression. A need to write. A need to be.

It came out of a cyber womb. It was empty, yet full of promises.

The blogs' mother gave it a name. The name had a promise. Never to stop writing about a journey. A life journey.

The word "never" is heavy. A blog, like a baby needs nurturing. It needs to be filled with words. Not just words. Stories. Our blog was really happy because its stories were funny, interesting, full of love for nature and animals. Full of dreams waiting to be fullfilled.

Every day, new words were filling it. And pictures. Lovely pictures next to the words. This blog was happy. Once in a while, the blog would be read by someone. Someone who would be kind enought to comment on its stories. And the blog was happy.

It was growing. More people would visit it. A tiny blog from nowhere, was becoming something. It found other blogs to communicate and it felt like it belonged to a blog family. A family of dreamers. A family where words mattered. Where stories mattered.

Sometimes the stories were not happy, other times stories were exciting.

Two years passed and the blog had character. It had style and was self confident.

But stories came slower and slower. It was not a daily story board anymore. It was more like a monthly story board.

Its mother had other things to do. She was busy. She was visiting everyday, but there were no words to nurture it. There came a time where she had not given a story to her blog for two months. It seemed once, that the blog was her only refuge. A place to reveal her most secret thoughts, to self critisize and evolve.

The name of the blog came under the microscope. What was its true meaning? Was its name literal? Or was it more like a general term? Our blog was filled with doubt. Will it ever be an actual travel blog? Will it be the diary of a self centered, void. would-be writer?

At the moment this blog is crying out for stories. It's crying out for attention. It is crying and shouting: "No more Facebook please!, I'm here too and I need your words, your stories and your pictures."

I better listen. My stories will be back soon.

art, soil, theatre, colours

I have so much to say!

A couple of weeks ago I became a teacher for kids! One painting class, two craft classes. I was supposed tο teach art history, but I knew I would not keep the attention of 10-year-olds for two hours unless they created something while I talked to them. My subject was mr Vincent van Gogh... 

Painting class was easy. They saw "The Starry Night" and the "Vase with Sunflowers" and tried to copy them. In the mean time I asked them at least one hundred times for his name, his place of birth and other little trivia which were easy to remember. It became our little shouting poem! It amazed me how they grasped the colours and even surpassed the great dutch master in brushstrokes... I was so nervous, I forgot to take pictures...

The following week I was going to teach the craft classes. Mr Vincent again. I was terrified. A group collage of the sunflower painting. The class had to cut, colour, paste their flowers and paint the final background. One hundred times the mr Vincent poem. We just about made the two hours and all I was left with was a bombed class! I had to wash everything and tidy up after the storm! In truth I didn't mind! I had so much fun! The result was a bit intimidating and weak just like I was! Such a mirror! 

The next day I was less scared. This time they had to do a group collage of the starry night. I was ready. I separated them in teams. One team had to do the stars, the other the waves on the sky and a third team the tree in the middle. This time I was calmer, had learned the mr Vincent poem veeery well - we repeated it one hundred times... Once more, both classes amazed me with their sense of colour and understanding of hues. The result was simply breath-taking and I do hope they had as much fun as I had. This time I asked them to help me tidy up, wash the brushes and pick up their chairs. I'm kinda falling in love with teaching!

Next month it's Picasso month. I have to find an idea for the craft classes. They will be bored if they do a collage again... I am open to suggestions!

before

after

after two months

The other thing I have been doing for the past two months is a small garden in the back of the block of flats I live in. When I moved there, I saw these HUGE flower beds and I thought about all this free soil that had to have food grown in them. I planted parsley, dill, two kinds of lettuce, coliflower, broccoli and rocket. All this, next to the 2 big rose trees that where already there. I think the roses felt really happy because as soon as I cleared the soil from the weeds and started watering them regularly, they gave me the most amazing roses to cut and keep in my house! My little plants are growing and I find peace of mind when caring for them...

 Finally, I enrolled to the town's amature theatre classes. Every weekend I will be exploring the wonders of theatre - I'm not a newby on stage, but I've never done theatre before...

Meanwhile I enjoy the winter temperatures and the bright November sun that shines every morning! In my walks with Freeda I take wonderful photos... All these reds and oranges, all these trees and vines losing their foliage... Autumn is such a magic time of the year! 

Mind you, I do all these wonderful things which do not require money. The theatre classes cost me 30 euros per year and the seeds for my plants reached the astronomical amout of 10 euros. 

The classes I teach give me enough to get by. The gallery work is still voluntary and requires a lot of time and effort... I think I'll try and reduce the hours I spend there... On the other hand, I have so many wonderful things to do and I meet so many wonderful people!

Life is a wonder!

on words and silence

Words we say.
Words we don't say.
Words that have another meaning.
Words camouflaged as feelings.

There comes a time when you have to feel beyond the words you hear. And this is very tiring. I wish each and everyone of us had a way of using words sincerely, honestly. I wish this was taught to everyone from a very early age. But we haven't. We want to say something and then we say something else. We want to communicate and we make humorous remarks. We are jocking when we want to say we're not feeling very well. We say angry words when we want to say "please listen".

Silence. There is comfortable silence. There is awkward silence. There is the silence filled with joy and understanding. There is the silence which is filled with unexpressed feelings. Weird energetic chemistry about to explode.

How do you treat words?
How do you feel in silence?

I have been wondering about this for a few days.

Dream

I had a dream last night. I was on a clear shiny mountain. Crispy, fresh air. Springtime blossoming and snow on the mountain tops. I woke up with a feeling I need to spend some time on a mountain. Mountain opens up your consciousness, my teacher says. During the day, an Idea stroke me. I HAVE been on a mountain recently. I still remember the ripe lines in the horizon and the smells in the remote village. I met two wonderful people there. They had animals, made their own feta cheese and lived there. They had round faces, red cheeks, smiling eyes... They seemed to enjoy their lives on the mountain, which made me think of my life and how happy I was with it. Now that I think of it, this is my next step in travelling. I will go there. In a month from now...