Oxford

One Sunday we went to Oxford. The day before I complained about the lack of the rain - I got what I wished for. The rainy Sunday...bare foot... in flip-flops, of course... It wasn't so bad, you know. After 30 or 40 min the foot stoped feeling the cold, the rainwater, the wind, in fact stoped feeling anything ;)  and I could just enjoy the visit!
Strange...nothing happened this time - I didn't smashed anything, I didn't give accidentally my number to a crazy homeless person, I didn't loose my documents. The only thing happened to me was... me pressing the "stop" button while actually I was trying to close down a little an air condition. But it doesn't matter, there are no stops on the highway.

Let's say ...the rain is warming-up ...

Of course when we got to the University it was (that day or generally?) "closed for visitors"

 In real life there was a big crowd in that most famous room...but for your satisfaction I photoshoped them all ;)
The place had not only huge meaning in history (which no one remembers now), but also played an important role
in pop culture being
the Hogwart's ballroom :)

Ok, I'm not going to explain this. I just like bicycles. Full stop.

Hm, apparently a British speciality - entertainment places on the grave yards. Kind of creepy, kind of quirky, kind of...liked it :)  In case you've missed - a close-up...

Candles&cakes

For those who don't believe me when I say the clouds are different there...THEY ARE

Lines

Made in Italy

Being currently in London I've noticed I'm speaking more often Italian than English or even Polish.
There are some political and economical reasons behind the constantly increasing rate of Italian immigrants, but I'm not going to analyse this. The daily presence of Italians, sound of Italian language and aroma of the cooking pasta reminded me my longer and shorter trips to Italy. The pictures came from different places and different periods.

Rome, September 2007. 
First one is the staircase in Vatican Palace, designed to be used by cavalry.
Second one is another popular place - the St. Angel's Bridge which had a special meaning for me, because I passed across it every morning going to school (language school :)) and afternoon - coming back. And yes, I loved Bernini's sculptures,...all of them.
And third, well, I don't think it needs a comment :) Just one thing - I took this picture on a rare, rainy day of that September. So, Forum Romanum after a still summer rain... 

Bolonia, 2010

I came to watch the thesis defence of my friend and celebrate her MA, which is quite a tradition in Italy (meaning a lot of drinking and eating:)) But in the meantime I walked around this lovely town famous from its arcades (and not eaten there - spaghetti bolognese).

Bicycles, July 2008

in Florence

 in Lucca

Not only pictures

From time to time I commit something literature alike, so this is one of the texts I wrote some time ago and recently translated:

At Snow Queen's

The clacking noise of high heels once bounced – gets back

Before a cool breath fights the way through the furry barricades

Before it'll freeze into the icicle garlands at the top of the ceiling

It is not true I've got an empty house – I'm a queen after all

I spared no expense in getting furniture: chairs, armchairs, couches,

chaise lounges, tableware, golden fittings and handles

Why did you pull your hand back then?

'Cause there's no fire place?!

But there are the mirrors instead – Their Highnesses Crystals

Frozen in the beauty and perfection

The clacking noise of high heels echoed from all the walls

As a cry of despair runs towards the windows

Where the panes of Venetian glass brightly shine

It's not my fault, so what was that all about then?

The carpets made the fragile icy floor melt

And you didn't have follow me, you know,

I've never forced you to do anything

I'm not bad, maybe just a little tired and deafened al ready

But I was glad, seriously, I was really glad

There was nothing to be afraid of, wasn't it?

You knew so well what to do, learning quickly

To sit only on the couches, do not take your shoes off

When you're rearranging the mirrors and silvers

Somehow that clacking noise of high heels was getting quietened down

as well as my migraine

and that annoying ringing of icicles startlingly played along the sound of

forks, suddenly broken glass, sheets of paper strewn all over

How did she guess? Did she figure it out by herself? Or was it because of the shine?

And why did she come here, anyway?

The migraine tears apart my head

and the clacking noise of high heels bounced once

with the unbearable tempest, strikes me down