industrial - Roman

The meeting was held in a new building of the organisation which was our host. It was a kind of aula… what a terrible place… it looked like a shop floor or storehouse in some horrible factory. Around us was a lot of concrete elements of the construction and air-conditioning. Such kind of industrial architecture is very similar to The Museum of Modern Art in Paris. I like it very much, but in this case it hasn’t its charm and beauty. Beauty is beauty after all… for example this Roman bridge in Cordoba. Very nice, isn’t it?

The Mesquta

I have already been in The Mesquta. I don’t remember a lot from that time. Only a forest of columns and my thoughts about the price we must pay for ours decisions. Now I would like to keep in my memory also an orange’s garden, pavements made of small stones completed in mosaics and a mascaron – a dog or maybe a devil on one of decorative bars in the Cathedral.

Black dog

One day, when I was going to the Conference Center, I saw dogs playing on the beach. They were small and had long coat. One was black the other was white. They were running with unbelievable speed. Depending on where they were at the moment, the goal was to run out the water or get into it as quickly as possible.

mime in San Sebastian

I had a cold in San Sebastian. It made my willpower less strong. I escaped from some presentations at The Conference. I went for a walk on a beach but for it I was also to weak. Finally I got in a café. I chose a table with a beautiful view for the sea and mime on the street. For more then half an hour nobody had given her any money. She was dressed in white clothes. Her face was also white. On her hand she had white gloves. Going back to Conference Hall I gave her some change. I had expected some movement, maybe a bow, waving hand… She looked at my eyes and shake my hand. It was so nice.

Helga

Spain, but it’s raining all the time. It’s deny the stereotype telling that Spain is warm and sunny country. For me it is like Bieszczady. Rain, rain rain… One day we went to a Basque restaurant in The Old Seaport. I was observing a waiter. She was fat. Her hands were roughened. Her hair was messy. To be honest she was not very pretty, but I liked her. She hold with iron hand everything in the restaurant. She didn’t make any unnecessary movement. In her free time she was joking, dancing, teased her colleague. She didn’t work, she enjoyed her life. It was beautiful!