Before we will go back to the jungles of Borneo, there is a small snack for you.
Madonna e Bambini
I have started editing dozens (if not hundreds) of videos we filmed during the trip. So folks, here we go back to Bella Italia. You will find them in our video page, and the new ones are this time first and last on the list. They will appear there in chronological order. First one is more artistic, the last one… well…
Have fun!
Maiku
Spectacular is the only word to describe sunsets in Bali. I have never seen anything like those in my life. Every night, hundreds if not thousands of people gather on the Kuta Beach, the famous surf beach of Bali, to enjoy the heavenly show which is far better than an average Hollywood movie. And in better technicolor!
The magnificent flaming colours are not only due to the tropical climate and humidity but also Indonesia’s high volcanic activity. Volcanic ashes in the sky reflect the light and make the colours so powerful. When Krakatoa exploded in 1883 the sunsets were screaming orange and blood red as far as in Europe for a year or two. I remembered this while watching the show, and remembered something else too. There was one painting in my mind all the time. This:
The Scream by Edvard Munch, 1893
The Scream (all of its versions) has been painted about ten years after Krakatoa sunsets. I remember from my Art History classes from uni a heated debate about weather Munch painted the real sunsets of Krakatoa or not, a debate which has hottened art circles ever since the painting was fresh. Some claim Munch is an expressionist and wouldn’t have had painted anything realistic but express his inner feelings. True, yes, but in this case bullshit. I claim now after seeing the volcanic ash sunsets that this kind of powerful views ink to your mind so strongly that it will come out some day in some form, especially if you are an artist.
Munch writes to his diary himself in Nice in 22.01.1892 about the birth of The Scream: “I was walking along a path with two friends—the sun was setting—suddenly the sky turned blood red—I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence—there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city—my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety—and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.”
In Kuta Beach, late December 2008 the sunsets were as intense. Close to winter solstice, when the sun is close to its lowest point, a huge bright red-orange sun will approach the horizon of Kuta like a giant juicy blood orange, descending ever so slowly. The water reflects the gold and orange, the sky is painted first to more impressionistic flashes of honey, gold, rosy pink, malva and forget-me-not blue, then the colours intensify to expressionistic level: to burned sienna, flaming orange, blood and burgund, indigo and azure. Broken pieces of cotton clouds march across the sky like soft silk fabrics, and rays of the dying sun colour them with a thick brush.
When the sun has disappeared behind the horizon, the sky and the sand still reflects the colours for a long time.
The feeling was really strange, like sitting on the last beach of the world, or just minutes before the world’s end. We joked about that, and felt like living in a sci-fi movie setting. Always when the sun went down I held my breath for a moment for something bad to happen, but it never did. But the hold of the sun was like a magnet, and I understood well why the ancient people were sun worshipers. Well, in many temples in Bali they still have the special sunset rites and offerings even today, and the local people also came to beach to put a small, floating offering of flowers, incense sticks, fruits and snacks to the Gods.
Sunsets were definitely the best time in Kuta. When your eyes were fixed on the sky, you didn’t see all the trash which was floating all over the shallow water. Plastic bags, ice-cream papers, water bottles, used condoms, broken flip-flops, even dead fish. You name it. The colour of the water reminded of watery oatmeal, gray and more solid than water should be, and foul-smelling.
Water was so disgusting I had no intention to swim in it. I was planning to get some surf lessons, but after seeing the water (and smelling it!) I decided otherwise. An English couple we met in the hostel pool had had some lessons but cut them short when they discovered a dead, rotten fish size of their surfboard almost floating nearby. Locals say its only now on Western wind season, when the wind blows everything into the bay, and other times of the year beach is clean, but I don’t know. I have my doubts. Even the local hospital warned on its fliers not to swim on rainy season, especially near the street-water sawyers. So much for the famous surf beach, then, and we spend most of our time in the pool.
I will try to put some more photos from Bali to Flickr soon. When the connection here in Borneo allows…
Maiku
Try to imagine this: a Tuscany hill surrounded by wine yards, a country house from 1700 and something. Wisterias and lilacs blossoming, and there is three wolves in the garden. Well, not exactly wolves, Czechoslovakian wolf dogs. Wild enough though to bite your head off if you do a wrong move. Which meant simply: not going out without the permit of the master of the wolves.
But for a reason or another, wolves seemed to like me. There were a male, female and a puppy, not family though. Puppy was a normal puppy, playful and biting with sharp baby teeth. Female was timid and shy, but for the surprise to everyone, she jumped and licked my face – a gesture she hasn’t done to strangers ever before. Because of this trust, I was also allowed to stroke the male: a huge, strong adult wolf dog, tame with the owner on the leach but unpredictable without. Anyway, he licked me too.
Even the cats (five of them) liked me, especially Alexander – named after the Great one – Alex to friends. He slept on my armpit warming me, and kissed me good morning on my mouth so passionately Sasi was jealous. Sasi said it was a bit like living in a zoo, since on top of all these, there was uncountable number of frets. Just what we belong to, a zoo.
After we left Pistoia, it has been feeling a bit like being thrown to wolves, since we were not able to find a place to stay. Sasi went so far he held a paper asking for accommodation on the streets of Siena. We got a lots of smiles but no host, so we ended to a pension which was held by a great Italian elderly lady. Tonight we were able to get beds in the youth hostel.
On the other hand, it is nice to be just two of us just for a change. Couchsurfing, as awesome as it is, can be a bit tiring sometimes since you have to socialize with your hosts. It has been really nice, but after weeks, you need quiet time on your own, at least me being a unsocial and quiet Finn (har har).
It also starts to be a point when you don’t remember clearly where you have been and what you have been doing. We have been offline due to bad internet connections for a while, so am trying to figure where we have visited past week. The things which came to my mind were loads of local train stations. From Bologna to Firenze, from Firenze to Pistoia, and from Pistoia we made day trips to Pisa and Lucca. Then finally a bus to here Siena.
I have spend 2,5 hours of my life in the queue of Uffizi Gallery in Firenze. Folks, if you want to get in there, DO get a reservation of the tickets! It was worth it though. Most of the people went to see Leonardo da Vinci’s and Michelangelo’s paintings, as well as Sandro Botticelli’s La Primavera and The Birth of Venus. Botticelli is nice, except these particular paintings have suffered a bit of inflation due to all kind of posters, mouse pads and fridge magnets. I like his delicate style though, and the other paintings by him in the same hall are almost nicer than these two most famous ones.
I must admit that I don’t admire Da Vinci. I do respect his developments of techniques of painting but the style is… I don’t know. Maybe another inflation. As well as what happened with the leaning tower of Pisa. In real life, that one was not too special at all. I have enjoyed much more about Lucca, which is not the most famous tourist destination in Tuscany. And Siena is just adorable with its medieval narrow streets. I love it. Cant wait to see more.
Maiku, with sore leg muscles after 290 steps of Torre del Maglio.
It is Impressive how you can get into people life. We human look so distant from each other and a few words sometimes can make us the closest person to each other.
One day you are a stranger and the next day you are so involved with the hosting people that you just feel home. Yes, these 2 bambini (children of our great host) that I dedicate my post to are amazingly beautiful and smart and full of life!They are the joy of this visit to Firenze.
And of course comes Michelangelo’s David, a tall statue of 5 meters of a hunk standing there like a god, and allow me to mention that the visit was extremely interesting sine my guide was my great art teacher Maiku.
Staying in the countryside of Tuscany and getting lost there because of my awful directions and some misunderstandings (sorry bella Maiku because i made you walk so much for so long) was a must, the nature view of those hills felt like being in a paradise. Anyhow, I would like to apologize for Maiku for not listening and being stubborn and not knowing how to read a map.
Firenze is very beautiful city and the Duomo was huge again (do these Italians have anything else then big churches, well 200 of them are in Firenze only, for god sakes!) but nothing was or could be compared to the beauty of my statue. Oops! I mean Michelangelo’s statue of David the hunk, but of course I still think I am more charming and have a better shaped body.
We had a quiet day at Florence and it was such an experience to spend our evening with the 2 kids, made us so much feel like home, like if it was our own family.
I cannot say more about Italy, nice people and amazing food, and art art art…
So till next post, keep looking our updated pictures section and Maiku’s amazing posts.
Ciao!
Sasi
There is always moments that are worth of sore feet and aching legs. To summarize a few on our trip so far:
1. The roof of Duomo in Milano. Milano’s cathedral is the largest Gothic cathedral in the world and it is massive indeed. From inside, it is just another Gothic church – just with a bit bigger columns. But when you get to the roof of it, that is heaven. Am not talking about any religious experience of mine, but I just cant help myself of thinking about all the craftsmen who dedicated their lives – sometimes literally – to build these massive and beautiful monuments. On the roof, you can easily see all the lace of marble carvings and statues, all the delicate details and skill of the craftsmanship and sculpting. In 14th century, those were not meant to be shown to mortal eyes. That was their best gift to give on a hope of afterlife.
2. Castello Sforzesco in Milano. Paintings and other stuff is naturally interesting, but somehow the biggest experience was the museum of musical instruments. We were lucky to be present just when an expert was testing the claviercembalos. (Oh, it seems to be harpsichord in English – i learned a new word…) Baroque music somehow brought the castle alive and it felt like there would have been shadowy figures dancing in the corners of eyes. Maybe there were.
3. Verona. Shakespeare obviously never went to Verona but he managed to got at least something right: there is lots of larks singing. Juliet’s “tomb” is situated in the old Capuchin convent outside the town walls. The empty and open sarcophagus itself is quite unimpressive. The garden outside, on the other hand, has some sort of authentic feeling of lost love and sorrow with its mossed statues and cypresses. Larks singing, and the misty mountain tops in horizon.
Says Romeo:
“It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.”
-Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet (act 3 scene 5)
4. Scrovegni Chapel in Padova. Giotto, my Giotto. Giotto’s paintings on the chapel inside walls was one of my absolute favourites in art history classes. Getting in the chapel was an hard task – seems to be protected as well as crown jewels. No wonder, the simple chapel is like a box of jewels from inside. It is unbelievable to imagine how people had felt in 1305 to see these paintings – they had used to see static Byzantine and Gothic paintings of humans, not this flesh and blood with gestures and feelings on their face. The tears rolling down of the mothers’ face, the gossiping people around Josef and Mary on their way, astonishment of the shepherds… And everything absolutely 3-dimensional, especially the clothes which you could almost touch. From where he got the idea of paint like this? No one did that before and not even after him for almost 200 years. Beats me. Amazing guy.
But enough art, am gonna go to drink some wine. Hippies have stolen my husband to the kitchen, God knows what bacchanals they are having there… with Will Smith movie.
Maiku
