Blue mind

Probably just hungry

Must write more. Must read more. Must talk more. It keeps me seated.

Mid-October

I am home. At last.

City visions

To truly understand living in Edinburgh, you have to accept that it is all about changing elevations.

There is no direct route to from anything to anywhere in Scotland's capital. The only straight line in Auld Reekie is for tourists. It runs from the Palace of Hollywood House up the Royal Mile to Edinburgh Castle, and as a student elbowing your way through the crowds of Spanish backpackers and Americans on the trail on non-existent roots will make less and less sense the longer you spend studying here.

Instead, seasoned Edinburgh students learn that getting from A to B has little meaning here; paths take you down dark dripping closes, through derelict breweries and along overgrown canals- always rising and falling with the land, one minute along broad leafy terraced streets, the next pulling past derelict tenements and warehouses. You won't have to be drunk to wind your way home at night.

Living in Edinburgh is about suspending your sense of place, distance and direction. Roads run under roads, streets lie buried under buildings; the Queen's Scottish residence sits next to social housing; facing it the Scottish parliament, a squat, defiant and angular expression of nationalism set among baroque spires, pebble dash and the green slope of Arthur's Seat. Bankers and insurance salesmen fill the same club nights as students and wideboys. Anywhere else, the jumble wouldn't make sense. May be it doesn't here either.

The profusion of landmarks would seem to affirm Edinburgh as a national capital with its royal residence and parliament 'all our ain', but at times it seems like a little more than a village. If you live within a few square meters from the Shore to the edges of the semi-detachedd-dom of Morningside, as most students do, walking around you will see the same faces a over and over – friends, classmates, lecturers, the guy who served you your pint the night before, the girl that you didn't call back the morning after.

Other than the risk of getting smacked with John Knox's pants at graduation, the city wears its weighty cultural history lightly; first year University of Edinburgh English Literature undergraduates walk nervously up the stairs to tutorials for which they haven't done the reading in the building that Francis Jeffrey founded The Edinburgh Review in. Napier students drink at the union bar in the shadow of Merchiston Castle – John Napier's birthplace – and get lost in the halls of the former psychiatric hospital at Craighouse, deliberately designed like a maze to prevent patients from escaping.

What does it say about Edinburgh that the same is true – except it happened by accident?
(The Skinny, 2010-2011- couldn't have said it better)

Gone bamboo

There is a reason for this current mental state, unable to grasp reality. It's not only me, its hundreds of people out there who weren't able to return home. Anthony Bourdain explains what is it about this place that changes you, why and how have we gone bamboo.
(Part 4 is about my personal infatuation, my own going bamboo time, substitute the pig parts with the culinary veggie magic I had in Ubud, and the music.. oh that gamelan )

Is it may be the end of the road for me as well?

Gastropods

Not having time to eat, means that life has triumphed. Days start and end in a haze. No time to comb my hair, no time to read a book, no time to answer emails, no time to write, no time to lough, no time to live. Where is time? Where has it all gone? Who deprived us from our leisure? Arranging bills, ordering furniture, opening bank accounts, sub-renting rooms and taking pictures of garages. What is life? IKEA shopping. Just don't want to be here most of the time. And it's always been like that. Counterbalance all this with researching river catchments in Indonesia and deforestation rates in Costa Rica. Home work case studies: An Earth-system perspective of the global nitrogen cycle. Wake up and ask myself, what am I doing here, why did I chose this. Better never ask these questions again. Let it all go, let myself go even if it is a struggle. It is always a struggle and it shouldn't be. Search for peace and simplicity in every day's niches. A cup of tea, a warm embrace, a sunny morning. Learn the features of all gastropods, go to the beach and name them all. Bake birthday cakes at midnight. What else could I do? Please help. I'm lost again.

Babies

This documentary will truly make you smile. It could be quite disturbing at times, forcing troubling impressions. But recommended if you, just like me, enjoy celebrating the richness of life on Earth.

We still got the taste

Housekeeping

Always fun. Sometimes dysfunctional. Never unnecessary.
Hostels.
Waiting for 15 minutes for the toilet is probably not the most amusing beginning of the day.
Listening to the girl under you on the bunk bed snore is may be not the best way to end a day.
But the community, fun and chaos are invaluable.
Considering the idea of creating a new blog with only the most bizarre, random and hilarious stuff that happens in hostels around the globe.
I am sitting in a hostel just now and the idea of this post entry actually came from my slightly hungover head. We had a party last night here at the hostel and today everyone is slow and jolly. Both management and guests seem a bit confused. Its 10:00 am and they are opening a second bottle of vodka. My food is gone. I eat other people's food. Two Australians knock on the door “Housekeeping”, enter and start searching the bed of the girl who did not make it back to the room last night.
Me, confused: “What are you doing guys?”
Aussie 1: “Housekeeping... stealing shit”
Aussie 2: “She is a she-male, man, look at all this pink stuff around here”.
Me: “Aha.. all right”
You get used to it. To the noise, to the complete absence of privacy. To hasty people, calmer people, all foreigners like you sharing a building, looking for temporary friendships, uncommitted love and a good time. Those who stay long seem to have shut down all needs and private priorities, do not mind the couple shagging on the adjacent bunk bed or the constant noise in the living room.
This is my 3rd week in a hostel and sometimes I am about to explode. They will always be necessary and they will always lead me to life-changing individuals, housemates, soul-mates and partners. They must be endured and appreciated.
I just needed a place to stay until I find home. If ever.