just wonging.

In the aftermath of French elections and the revelation that 20% of them are apparently Fascists, the timing could not be more appropriate for a piece on the Romanians. I can almost bet that Sarkozy will promote more closing border crap, making a big fuss out of immigration issues. It turns out that, other than the human rights agenda, Romanians is the only issue that European countries can agree upon, rightly or wrongly so. Perceptions do matter. Talk to a diverse enough pool of people in European countries, like when you do in hitchhiking, you discover that, no matter who they are, they are bound to have something to say about Romanians.  Romanian national history has it that Roman general somehow settled there one day, and suddenly an area appeared with Latin language speaker among a bunch of Slavs. Competing theories exist but that's not the point today. So I was having a conversation with a young educated Hungarian couple, driving from Slovakia to Budapest. At a c...

Day 3 It was indeed simple. A whirlwind couchsurfing night later, I was ready to leave Warsaw. Saw bits of it and had a great conversation with Dominika. 5th year student of physio therapy. Man I almost wanted to get a massage, but apparently they don't do such things. Guess where this is. Warsaw was 70% destroyed during the war, which was unfortunate. It was a lovely day however, and weather does affect mood. Realized that in Warsaw most bars are within the courtyards with a small entrance towards the main street. Rent is cheaper there apparently. Walked also into a plaza that used to be a Jewish cemetery. All flat and burned and rebuilt. And then there was a story about how a father had to pay dowry, but wanted to save money, so he built it right at a corner that still faced the main street, but would pay less for the flat because of the amount of windows it had. And another story records a soldier luring a German tank into a small street and then sets off a bomb. The...

Day 2: truck day I almost thought in the Baltics it was impossible to hitch wtih trucks. The day before none stopped. But there is no absolute in hitchhiking, and trucks were nice to me the next few days. When you see a Soviet toilet, you know it. Only last saw one in Uzbekistan, in much worse condition. Soviets really have their own aesthetic standards, keeping these standards ubiquitous. Quite a challenge to not have a tad bit of creativity. Paulius was a thoughtful host, and I could not have been more grateful. Discussed so much about hitchhiking as it was now my newly discovered passion. And we decided there was basically no fixed rule. Signs are almost a must, but even that might not be needed if you're standing under a road sign. Dark clothes don't repel cars, as I have been wearing black all along. The art of hitchhiking is all about the feel. More thanks to Paulius for introducing me the Marco Polo Euro Atlas, arguably the best. So damn convenient.This just beca...