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Planet Earth, Singapore

The Pinnacle@Duxton – the bird’s eye view at Singapore

posted by Aleksandra Wisniewska
Nov 15, 2016 8061 0 0
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Lego-like containers are piling up in a tiny port. Mini-cars speed up in webs of mini-roads. Red roofs of mini-shophouses flash between green canopies of mini-trees. With an eagle eye, we are trying to spot a familiar looking place.

And there it is – ‘Kiosk’. Our weekend oasis of relaxation and good beer. Its tiny contours cut off from the surrounding strands of narrow streets and a parking lot in the size of a fingernail. From the bird’s eye perspective at 150 meters, it looks even more charming than usual.

Skyscrapers, less lofty than usual, rub shoulders with clay-red squares of construction sites. Ant-sized people rush for dinner at anthills of food courts. Lines of lazy-Sunday walkways pulsate with colourful patches of street performances. The distance makes them into blurry, shimmering spots of colours. Sound – only it remains clear and loud.

We admire fiery red streaks of the setting sun which cross a dark vastness of the evening sky. Mesmerising colours compete with black and silvery-grey clouds of a looming thunderstorm. A breeze on the top of the urban world is getting fiercer. By tangling our hair, it lets us know it is about time to evacuate. Fifty floors below, we join ant-sized people seeking shelter from the first drops of rain.

 

The Pinnacle@Duxton – the unique viewing deck

The Pinnacle@Duxton – a massive complex of government housing blocks (HDB), consisting of seven 150-meter towers, connected by two 500m long bridges. The bridge on a 26th floor is available only for the tenants, while the bridge on a 50th floor is available for the general public. It offers a phenomenal, panoramic view of Singapore and surroundings (if weather permits of Indonesia). In addition, the bridge is divided into thematic sections with garden-like zones in each. And so we have, for example, “a beach” with an imitation of a sandy sea-shore and sunbeds, “rocks” with the mini climbing wall, “a romantic sanctuary” with a charming gazebo sheltered by green grove, etc. An extraordinary half kilometre length makes the structure the longest sky-garden in the world.

The building houses an enormous number of 1,848 apartments. There are following amenities available for the residential use: a food court, a day care, basketball and futsal fields, as well as sections with equipment to exercise.

Thanks to an interesting architecture, the building has won numerous awards in local and global competitions. Over 200 companies from 32 countries entered an initial competition for The Pinnacle design in 2001. In the end, it was won by a local company ARC Studio Architecture + Urbanism. A process of building the massive structure according to ARC plan took four years, and it ended in 2009.

The Pinnacle@Duxton is not only an architectonical icon but also a historical one. Its location is the very same spot where the first two HDB blocks were built in 1963. They stood only at 10-sotry height, though.

Know before you go

  • TIPS
  • LOCATION
  • TIME
  • PRICE

TIPS

The best time to visit sky gardens is during the “blue hour” (from 6:30 pm till nightfall). It is then when you can admire a fantastic colour transformation of an azure sky, turning dark blue and finally black. The whole spectacle is further embellished with a unique colour palette of sunset. Despite favourable circumstances – fantastic views, lovely relaxation areas, and green zones – food and drinks are not allowed it the sky gardens. Smoking is prohibited. Pet owners also would need to leave their furry friends at home.

Visits during thunderstorms are to be avoided at all cost. Storms in the open space at the 150m are as spectacular as dangerous.

LOCATION

1 Cantonment Rd, Singapore 080001

The nearest MRT (Singapore subway) stations are Tanjong Pagar and Outram Park. From both, you need to walk about 10 minutes to reach the destination. However, buses 167, 196 and 75 will drop you off just next to the building itself.

TIME

Daily between 9 am – 9 pm.

The bridge may be closed during holidays and special events organised there. You should also keep in mind that a daily limit of visitors is 200. Unfortunately, entry pass cannot be booked in advance.

PRICE

5SGD/4USD

Admission pass can only be bought with the EzLink card, used in the whole public transport in Singapore. A payment machine is located on a ground floor of the block 1G.

You can reach the sky garden by any elevator in each of the building towers. Also, there is an entrance gate in each of them. To go in you need to use the same card you made a payment with. There is no time limit for staying on the bridge. However, you need to enter within an hour from pass purchase. Afterwards, entry pass will be terminated.

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Ambulance around the world. Karetką dookoła świata.
From Poland to Alaska.

Peryferie is feeling lovely at Narwiański Park Narodowy.

2 months ago

Peryferie
Mr. Czarek is climbing Giewont. He's climbing because he doesn't want to take the cable car. That would be a bit like cheating. Like putting a motor on a shallow, wooden punt boat. An acquaintance of his suggested it. An electric one, and cheap, but Mr. Czarek said no – he prefers an oar. A wooden one, three meters and thirty-seven centimetres long. It's perfectly enough on the Narew because it's a shallow river. You can walk from one bank to the other without even getting your waist wet. And this year, it's very shallow indeed. He has never seen the water so low. Though on the bends, it can still reach up to three meters. The whole oar disappears. And with an oar, you can probe the bottom. You know where there’s sand, where there’s silt, where there are stones. With an oar, you get to know the riverbed by Braille. By touching. Motors only scare the fish away. And some people still use petrol ones. Even though it's forbidden in the Narew National Park. What can you do? People are irresponsible.Mr. Czarek is climbing Giewont. He listens to the birds and thinks how different they are from the ones back home on the Narew. There, in the reeds, live the reed warblers. Tiny, inconspicuous little birds, but they screech to high heaven! Non-stop, as if their tiny lungs didn't even need to draw breath. They screech but beautifully, not like rooks. He recently saw a kestrel chasing them off. They were probably attacking its nest. All by herself, smaller than two rooks, the kestrel didn’t back down. A tenacious parent. Here, on the way to Giewont, he thinks he hears finches. There, by the river, there are red-backed shrikes. They rarely sing, but when they do, they can weave imitations of other birds into their characteristic calls. Why do they do that? Who knows. They have another name, too – butcher-birds. That one comes from the way they impale what they catch – insects, caterpillars – on thorns or sharp twigs. By the Narew, you can also hear willow warblers, skylarks, and cuckoos – measuring out time rhythmically, reliably, and slowly. And on the river, time itself seems to flow in slow motion. The river, too, flows unhurriedly. Its current rarely speeds up. Well, unless a storm is coming. Then it ripples restlessly, combed by the wind. Mr. Czarek doesn’t go out on the water in a storm. It’s terrifying. It gets so dark you could poke your eye out. Lightning cut the sky like a luminous scalpel. Not at all from top to bottom, as gravity would have it. Sometimes sideways, defying physics. The Narew itself sometimes stands defiant against the world's order. It can flow against the current. That's because of the Vistula, which it flows into. When the queen of rivers swells too much, it pushes into the Narew's channel and shoves it upstream.Pushes it upstream, just as Mr. Czarek pushes himself up Giewont. And why is he pushing himself like this? And why these mountains, anyway? Well, somehow, in his old age, he decided to climb Giewont. Because why not? It was always the river, so for a change, he decided to carry his sixty-plus crosses up and place them next to the one on Giewont. He’d only ever been to the Czech Bohemian Paradise once. Beautiful! But the water was expensive as hell! Beer was twice as cheap, but water?! What a scheme they came up with! And Mr. Czarek doesn’t drink alcohol. He used to drink a beer now and then, but he no longer likes the taste. Non-alcoholic? He hasn't tried it. Is it any good? Well, you have to know which one to get and to know that, how many would you have to try.Mr. Czarek is not complaining, absolutely not! He's in good shape. His health is holding up. It's probably because of the Narew and the oar. He keeps moving. He pops out for some fishing almost every day. He likes catching pike the most. But only the big, grown ones. He releases all the small ones. Some catch even the fry. What can you do? People are irresponsible. And then there are the poachers. They cast nets and catch whatever they can. And the police? Well, what about the police? The police know exactly who, where, and when. But they do nothing. Mr. Czarek, in fact, usually releases what he catches. He only keeps enough for himself and his wife. A pike, a perch. He's heard you can catch an eel, but he never has. He heard it from someone he can trust. Others sometimes tell tall tales. There are also asps. Those aren't very tasty. There was this one fellow here who would catch fish and sell them to buy booze. The priest's housekeeper once asked him to catch her something, just not an asp, because it’s not tasty, and the priest would be angry. As luck would have it, an asp was all that bit. So what did he do? He took it to the presbytery. The woman knew nothing about fish, so she didn’t even recognise. Well, what can you do? People are irresponsible. They don't respect the river. And the Narew, though narrow and shallow, can be surprising. It is, after all, still an element. How many times have people drowned? A group of young people were once walking along the bank. Right by the water's edge. And the bank is undermined, of course. The grass covers the washed-out patches, and you don't even know when you might fall into the river. And as luck would have it, a girl fell in just like that. Mr Czarek happened to be fishing nearby in his punt. He fished the girl out, too. God, how scared she was! She'll remember it for the rest of her life. He's pulled out people who couldn't respect the river a few times now. That's why he prefers to stay away from people these days. Such human irresponsibility is too much for his nerves. He prefers to float into an oxbow lake.They call the Narew the "Polish Amazon" because it has so many backwaters, estuaries, and channels. If someone doesn't know it and goes kayaking, they can get lost. Not Mr. Czarek. He knows the Narew like his own backyard. The one in front of the house that was built in 'thirty-seven. Only that one and one other survived the war. He moved here from the town next door. Their borders meet, and if it weren't for the sign, you wouldn't know where one ends and the other begins. You enter the smaller one from the bigger one as if walking from a living room into a hallway. A natural extension. He used to live in an apartment block. This house was in his wife's family, and she inherited it. Maybe someday they'll move to the county town. When their strength runs out. Their daughter lives there with her husband. She's doing well for herself. She lectures in mathematics at the university. A smart girl. Sometimes, he and his wife pay them a "parental inspection" visit. They show up unannounced to see if everything is all right. And the daughter supposedly isn't expecting them, but she always seems to know. Her mother probably calls beforehand. Mr. Czarek doesn't call. He doesn't even answer. For him, the phone might as well not exist. He will, indeed, reply to a text message. But not right away. He doesn't take it to work – he's a welder – because what for? You either work or you make calls. Not when he's fishing, either, because it might fall into the water. And they make them so flimsy these days that a bit of rain is enough to make them stop working. He once had a flip phone. Damn! It fell in the water, he took the battery out, dried it, and it worked like new. And now?In the mountains, he would prefer not to have too many people around. Though he doesn't want to go alone either. Because if you don't know the way, you can get lost. This way, you can latch onto someone. It's different on the Narew. There, he floats with no one around. He'll glide into an oxbow lake, and it's as if he were sliding over a carpet. Leaves of yellow water-lilies and reeds. As if nature were casting a tapestry under his punt. He glides along, his punt a breaker of green, and sees paths woven into this tapestry with black, muddy threads. They are trodden tirelessly by the hooves of deer and wild boar, the claws of beavers, and the webbed feet of ducks.Nature rarely surprises Mr. Czarek, but sometimes it manages. He's fishing one day. Moored in the reeds as usual. He's smoking a cigarette – one for three sessions. It's healthier that way. And suddenly, he hears: splash, splash, splash. Splashing comes from the bank. A person couldn't get through those reeds. It must be an animal. But what kind? It's splashing loudly. Powerfully. It must be a moose. And indeed, out of the corner of his eye, Mr. Czarek sees a moose cow and her calf entering the Narew. Oh, it's a good thing they passed him by because he would have been no match for a worried mother. Not even with his oar – three meters, thirty-seven centimetres – which he had prepared just in case. And he probably wouldn't have used it anyway. He'd sooner swim to the other side. Mr. Czarek likes nature. Respects it. His dog used to sleep in the house and ate what the people ate. But only from your hand, because if you put the same food in his bowl, he wouldn't touch it. He recently saw on TV somewhere a dog drowning in a firefighting reservoir. There was another dog with him, and when it saw its friend in trouble, it ran to get a human. And went straight for a firefighter! Finally, it jumped into the water itself to save its companion. And let someone try to say that animals are not intelligent. That they have no soul! And that's why, for anyone who hurts them – the highest penalty. Or do the same thing to them that they did to the animal, like that senator who dragged his dog on a leash behind his car. Tie him to a car and let him feel what suffering is. Well, what can you do? People are irresponsible.Mr. Czarek walks up Giewont to place his sixty-odd crosses next to the single one, and he thinks. He would maybe go somewhere in a camper van, but his wife doesn't want to. She's gotten a bit lazy. He even has to pick her up from her sister's in the neighbouring town. Nine hours at work, and then off to fetch her. But he goes because he feels sorry for his wife. Thirty-six years together. A lifetime. You have to learn to compromise. You have to learn to be there for better or for worse. And that's why he will keep driving to fetch his wife. And he will drive her to do the shopping, and on Saturday, when she cleans – because she always cleans on Saturdays – he will escape the house so as not to be in the way. He will escape to his punt. To the Narew.The Narew is calm, unhurried, shallow. But it can surprise you. It can unexpectedly send a fire station and young firefighters who don't know if anyone in the area uses a punt. But his father will surely know. Oh! There he is now. The father – Piotr – is coming out of the little shop by the fire station with a beer and some crisps, and he knows. And he calls. He calls Mr. Czarek's wife because everyone knows Czarek won't answer. For him, the phone might as well not exist. His wife answers and arranges everything. Tomorrow at twelve, because Czarek works until eleven. He will be waiting behind the playground by the kayak rental. With his oar – three meters, thirty-seven centimetres long. It could be ten past twelve or even twenty past. He'll wait a bit. Well, unless there's a storm. Not then. He doesn’t go out on the water in a storm.#Narew #narewnationalpark ... See MoreSee Less

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Peryferie is at Kapadocja-Turcja.

2 months ago

Peryferie
Wraz z Onet Podróże zapraszamy w podróż do niezwykłej, bo... śnieżnej Kapadocji 😁🤩#kapadocja #turcjaOdkryłam tajemnice niezwykłej tureckiej krainy. Bajka wykuta w skale: Onet./Zdjęcia własnedlvr.it/TLF0S2 ... See MoreSee Less

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Peryferie is feeling puzzled with Andrzej Wiśniewski in Larnaca District, Cyprus.

6 months ago

Peryferie
He called me. The rate was standard for the first zone of the European Union. The connection was surprisingly good, considering he was calling from the 4th century BC.So, he calls and says that he was born here. Here in Larnaca, although then it was still called Citium. His name is Zeno. I know that because it showed up on my phone. I also scanned the QR code from the monument myself. I probably wouldn't have answered if I hadn't known who was calling. I usually don't answer calls from strangers.He introduced himself politely. Plus, his voice was pleasant and deep - a pleasure to listen to. So, I listened. And he says that he is the son of a merchant. The family was doing well; they lacked nothing because, in his time, Citium was a prominent trading port. He helped his father at work like a good son, being prepared to take over the business. Once, he sailed with goods - fabrics - to Athens. Normal thing - sell and come back. Not this time. The ship crashed, but he survived the disaster.This event changed his life. Yes, disasters tend to change lives. And contrary to popular belief, it is not always for the worse. Zeno himself sees the whole affair at sea as an extremely happy event. Thanks to this, he ended up in Athens, no longer as a merchant but as a man seeking knowledge and understanding. And he sought them from the great Greek philosophers. He soon became one of them himself. He taught that man should live in harmony with nature and accept everything that it sends with equal calmness. Even what is bad and negative from a human perspective. He delivered his teachings in the porticoes of the Athenian square called stoae. Hence, the name of his philosophy is Stoicism.I was surprised by his public speaking because, at the beginning of the conversation, he admitted that he did not like crowds. That he prefers nature, its harmony, wisdom and peace. I completely agree with him here, but apparently, the desire to spread knowledge was stronger than the self-preservation instincts. So, he went to the agora and preached his teachings. And in order not to be unfounded - he lived by them. He renounced wealth because it leads to nothing good. It only deepens divisions: the rich get richer, and the poor get even poorer. And he firmly believed that all people should be equal because equal they are. Period. The Athenians (certainly not all of them) liked his teachings so much that they gave him the Golden Laurel - a great distinction. What's more, they offered Zeno Athenian citizenship. However, he politely refused because he did not want to betray his native Citium.Zeno lived in Stoic tranquillity for a long time—for 98 years, he says—until finally, the Earth called him. How?"One day, I hit my toe; I think I even broke it. I knew right away that it was the Earth's calling. What to do. I said to Earth: "Yes, yes, I hear you! No need to shout like that." I lay down, closed my eyes, held my breath and died. But I've been talking here for far too long. And yet a man has only one mouth and two ears, which means he should talk less and listen more. Now go and explore my Larnaca, my Citium - says Zeno and hangs up.So, we're exploring. We explore the museum with the temple ruins of Citium. Maybe one of them was next to Zeno's house? Maybe. History locked in the remains of earthen walls is silent. But behind our backs, a lively and loud one unfolds. The ear-piercing screech of a beautiful blue parrot echoes. The elderly security guard catches it to his collection. According to the olden method, he put sticks smeared with a sticky substance on the pomegranate tree right next to the fruits, so plump they burst. If you put your finger on it, it will come off without any problems. The bird's tiny paws will not. It will get stuck until someone releases it. Or until it dies of hunger and exhaustion. The guard catches the parrot for his collection. Poachers en masse catch small migratory birds to the point of extermination of entire populations. They sell them to restaurants for bird shasliks - a traditional Cypriot dish. And what would Zeno say to that?He says nothing. Doesn't call anymore. Even when we visit his second monument on Europe Square. Around there are colonial buildings that once housed the port manager, the customs office and warehouses. Today, it is the City Hall, gallery and archive. Opposite is the promenade and marina with luxury yachts. And Zeno is nowhere to be seen. We walk, we search. We even illegally peek behind the ugly metal fences of the amusement park that is being dismantled. And we almost missed him, among the cables, scaffolding, metal parts and colourful lights that only yesterday were still carousels. He stands on a pedestal, which now serves as a stand for toolboxes, work gloves and half-empty water bottles. He stands in complete and utter chaos. And he stood like that when, for many months, human feet swirled above him. He stood in noise, din, and commotion. He stood and did not move. So stoic.Would he be just as stoic if he wasn't encased in stone?#cypr #cyprus #larnaka #larnaca_city #zenoofcitium #stoicyzm #stoicphilosophy ... See MoreSee Less

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Peryferie

6 months ago

Peryferie
WOW!That's so unexpected and fantastic! 🤩FB has just reminded us about one of the most amazing experiences of our pre-travel life. Back then, ages ago (or seven years to be exact 😉), we were called Singapura as we still lived in the Lion City.This is a memory of our visit to Rakkhiththakanda Temple in Sri Lanka during the Vesak Day. One of the most important Buddhist celebrations of the birth, enlightenment and death of the Buddha. We had such an amazing time there - including sharing food with the pilgrims and having hours-long conversation about Buddhism with the local monk. Apart from the gorgeous video by one and Andrzej Wiśniewskiewski, Aleksandra Wiśniewska (still then Tofil 😱) also published an article about this experience in the Singaporean magazine Departure - link in the comments for anyone interested 😁Ah, going to feel sentimental for the rest of the day 😅 ... See MoreSee Less

Rakkhitakanda - Buddhist Temple in Sri Lanka

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Rakkhitakanda - Buddhist Temple in Sri Lanka, celebrating Vesak Day - Buddha's Birthday

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Peryferie is at Exil Eberswalde.

6 months ago

Peryferie
Jest nam niezmiernie miło donieść, że zadebiutowaliśmy na łamach Tygodnik Powszechny tekstem o niesamowitym miejscu i ludziach Exil Eberswalde, którzy w niezwykły sposób pielęgnują pamięć i historię.Zapraszamy do lektury 😊📰Aleksandra Wiśniewska📸Andrzej Wiśniewski„W tym miejscu historia nie umiera, tylko przechodzi w muzykę” – w barakach obozu pracy w Eberswalde, gdzie 80 lat temu młode Polki produkowały broń dla Wehrmachtu, dziś odbywają się koncerty punkowe i alternatywne wydarzenia, które łączą pokolenia. Historia, która przeszła z rąk do rąk, ale wciąż pozostaje żywa dzięki muzyce i pamięci o przeszłości. 🎶Przeczytaj więcej o tym niezwykłym miejscu, które łączy historię z teraźniejszością 👉🏼 www.tygodnikpowszechny.pl/czy-mozna-pic-piwo-i-tanczyc-w-miejscu-gdzie-cierpieli-ludzie-lekcja-hi...📸Koncert zespołu Antispielismus (w baraku „koncertowym”). 8 grudnia 2024 r. // Fot. Andrzej Wiśniewski#Eberswalde #lekcjahistorii ... See MoreSee Less

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Fragment podcastu, na całość zapraszamy do Dzia Fragment podcastu, na całość zapraszamy do Działu Zagranicznego.
[English below] Stolica Estonii to Stare Miasto. B [English below]
Stolica Estonii to Stare Miasto. Brukowane kręte uliczki, które proszą, żeby się w nich zagubić. I szynk w ratuszu – III Draakon. Znów podróż w czasie i przestrzeni. Wchodzimy do ciemnego wnętrza. Pachnie kamieniem, wilgocią, gotowanym mięsiwem i piwem. Siadamy przy drewnianych ławach. Łokciami przyklejamy się do blatu z warstwą zaschniętego chmielowego napitku. Szynkarki odziane w średniowieczne stroje, nastroje i maniery.

- A co mi tu będzie wydziwiał! Jest zupa na golonce, golonka z ziemniakami i piwo. Nikt go tu na siłę nie trzyma. Chce czegoś innego, to niech sobie znajdzie! – podparta pod boki kobieta krzyczy po angielsku, wymachując wielką drewnianą warząchwią w stronę klienta. Klient, cały dżinsowy wprost z nowoczesności, posłusznie kładzie uszy po sobie. Prosi o zupę. Szynkarka nabiera hojną porcję z gigantycznego kotła zawieszonego nad paleniskiem i podaje wystraszonemu mężczyźnie.

- Na zdrowie niech mu będzie – rzuca z szerokim uśmiechem, odwraca się do dwóch pozostałych szynkarek i już po estońsku z chichotem obrabia biedaka.
(link do całego tekstu w bio)
-----------------
The capital of Estonia is all about the Old Town. Winding cobblestone streets that beg to get lost in them. And a tavern in the town hall - III Draakon. A journey through time and space. We enter the dark interior. It smells of stone, dampness, cooked meat and beer. We sit on wooden benches. Our elbows stick to the countertop covered with a layer of dried hop drink. Innkeepers are dressed in medieval costumes, moods and manners.

“And what are you fussing about?! We have pork knuckle soup, pork knuckles with potatoes and beer. That's it! If that's not good for 'the sire', go and find something else! No one is forcing you to stay!" the woman, with her arms akimbo, shouts in English, waving a large wooden spoon at the customer. The all-denim customer, straight out of modernity, shrinks and asks for the soup. The innkeeper scoops a generous portion from the giant cauldron suspended over the hearth and hands it to the frightened man.

“Enjoy”, she says with a broad smile, turns to the other two innkeepers, and giggles at the poor man.
(link to the whole txt in bio)
Five years ago, we left Singapore. We sold out al Five years ago, we left Singapore.

We sold out almost seven years of life there, and what was left fit in three bags per person.

A perfect lesson in minimalism before an even bigger one - squeezing life into a homebulance.

We managed.

Just like, we managed to leave stability, safety and comfort behind. Exchange them at a very low rate for the inconvenience, uncertainty, and often pure fear.

What for? To have an adventure? Enjoy the adrenaline rush?

That too.

But most of all, to find what is important in yourself and follow it to the end.

Even if the mind loses its mind, and common sense tears the hair out of its head.

They quickly came around.

Because it was worth it. Because it is worth it.

Our journey continues. It takes different directions, but it's getting us closer to Alaska every day. Even when we're staying in one place. Every day we walk the path we chose five years ago, and every day we appreciate it even more.

Even though sometimes we don't feel like it and think that maybe enough is enough. But then we look back. At all the road turns we overcome, all the ups and downs, all the tears of frustration and happiness. And all the people who have blessed our path with their existence.

Then we look ahead. At the road turns that wind before us, and everything that awaits there. Mystery? Sadness? Joy? Friendships?

And let Alaska be somewhere there, far away. Let it exist so that it can be reached.

But let the journey itself last as long as possible.

#aroundtheworldintheambulance
Z okazji Dnia Kota - wszystkie koty Baku 😍🐈🐈‍⬛
... W całej pracowitej przyrodzie tylko ludzie tr ... W całej pracowitej przyrodzie tylko ludzie trwali bez ruchu.

Wędkarz w łódce po drugiej stronie jeziora zmienił się w konar z ramionami i wędką zastygłymi nad wodą.

W swoim domu kaszubski gospodarz Franciszek, do którego należy ziemia nad jeziorem, jeszcze nie odstygł z bezruchu snu. Otoczony domkami na dzierżawę, pełnymi snem letników, przekręca swoje osiemdziesiąt dziewięć lat na drugi bok. Gospodarki już nie ma. Już nie musi wcześnie wstawać.

Ale, kiedy się zbudzi, też będzie zajęty.
Najpierw sprawdzi obejście i swoje rzeźby: chłopków, co grają na organach i zagryzają fajki pod wąsami z szyszek, dwa białe zające, fliger, czyli samolot i działo ze szpuli po kablach i rury kanalizacyjnej. I wiatraki. Ten, co pokazuje czy bardzo dziś wietrznie – bardzo prosty, ale skuteczny, te wysokie z wnętrzem smukłych wieżyczek zdobionych kinkietami w kwiaty i ten jeden, jedyny, co zamiast czterech boków ma sześć.

Potem gospodarz podleje kwiaty. Tak jak obiecał żonie, kiedy szła na operację. Teraz od tygodnia dochodzi do siebie u córki. Już, już powinna wracać.

Wreszcie po śniadaniu siądzie do organów schowanych w szałerku. Zagra „Kaszubskie Jeziora”, a głos akordów, wzmocniony starym, ale sprawnym głośnikiem, poniesie się po jeziorze wprost do letników, co rozłożyli się na brzegu w kamperach.

Po koncercie pan Franciszek pójdzie do nich i za postój weźmie tyle, co na flaszkę. Bo tyle, co na piwo, to trochę za mało. Potem rozsiądzie się w jednym z letniskowych krzeseł i będzie młodym opowiadał jak to na Kaszubach się żyło i żyje.

Opowie, jak to za ojców było, kiedy przed wojną Niemiec rządził wioskami, a podatki były wysokie. A potem, we wojnie, jak chodził po domach z listą i trzeba było zdać plony, trzodę, ale tylko tyle, ile gospodarz mógł. I za to miał jeszcze płacone! Tak było we wojnie.

I pozwolenia były na ubój świniaka. Ale jak kto oszukał, to od razu – szu! – brali do Sztutowa! Chłop już nie wracał. A jak wiedzieli, że oszust? Ha! Brali mięso do weterynarza i ten pieczątki stawiał. Na każdym kawałeczku. A jak pieczątki nie było, to znaczy, że ubił drugie zwierzę. Kiedyś jeden nawet za owcę poszedł...

[Cała historia pod linkiem w bio]
Wyszli z niewielkiego czerwonego samochodu. Leciwe Wyszli z niewielkiego czerwonego samochodu. Leciwego, ale zadbanego. Ubrani elegancko. Tak, jak wypada w niedzielę. Nawet jeśli się idzie do lasu. Na grzyby.

Lasom też należy się niedzielny szacunek.

Pani w ciemnorubinowej bluzce z elegancką torebką w dłoni. Pan w wyprasowanej koszuli w kratę, schludnie wpuszczonej w dżinsowe spodnie.

Poszli.

Między drzewami kilka razy mignęła przyprószona siwizną głowa pana i kasztanowe loki pani.

Zniknęli.

Wrócili po dobrej godzinie.

- I jak? Kurki są? – zapytał Andrzej, bo wie, że las z kurków słynie.

- Oj słabo! Słabo bardzo – odpowiedział smętnie szpakowaty pan i potrząsnął reklamówką. – Ja to ledwie dno siatki zakryłem. Nawet wstyd pokazywać. Żona trochę więcej, bo to trzeba dobre oczy mieć. A u mnie już i oczy nie te i kręgosłup siada.

I rzeczywiście, szpakowaty pan zgiął się wpół, przeczekując falę bólu w plecach.

Za chwilę wyprostował się i ciągnął leśną opowieść.

- No i jeszcze, proszę pana, wszystkie nasze miejsca – bo my stale w te same chodzimy, bo wiemy, że tam zawsze kurki są – to przygnietli drzewem.

- Ano tak! Strasznie tam powycinane wgłębi. A to tak legalnie? – dopytywał Andrzej.

- Gdzie tam, proszę pana! Nielegalnie ścinają. Tu dokoła, proszę pana, są domki letniskowe. I prawie wszystkie z kominkami. Bo to ładnie. A właściciele do tych kominków drzewo muszą mieć. Kupić, proszę pana, drogo, a do lasu blisko.

Opowieść zatrzymuje nowa fala bólu. Ale już nie fizycznego. Żałości raczej. Za ściętymi drzewami.

- Ale tu, proszę pana, to jeszcze nic. Ja mam szwagra pod Lubiatowem i tam to tną na potęgę! Dobre drzewa. Zdrowe. A zaraz obok rośnie las. Stary. Chyba za trzysta lat będzie miał. I tam ziemia już tak próchnem nabrzmiała, że te drzewa same się przewracają. I nikt ich nie bierze. Tylko nowe tną. Zdrowe. I dlaczego tak?

Znów grymas bólu...
 [c.d. w komentarzach]
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peryferiemag

Karetką Dookoła Świata
Around the World in the Ambulance
From Poland to Alaska
📍 Our newest post 👇

[🇬🇧ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] Obecnie najczęsts [🇬🇧ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] 
Obecnie najczęstszym pytaniem z jakim się spotykamy jest: „Czy pandemia pokrzyżowała nam plany?”. 

Jasne! 

Według nich, już od ponad sześciu miesięcy mieliśmy przemierzać Afrykę. Prawdopodobnie przejechalibyśmy już zachodnią część, przecięli kontynent i zmierzali wschodnim wybrzeżem w stronę Republiki Południowej Afryki. Stąd mieliśmy promem wysłać „Rafałka” do Argentyny i w 2021 roku zacząć kolejny etap podróży. Tak, żeby wciągu zaplanowanych czterech lat dotrzeć do naszego celu – Alaski.

W zamian za to, już od niemal roku jesteśmy w Portugalii. 

Przez ten czas zdążyliśmy się w tym kraju zakochać bez pamięci – w kuchni, której smaki zmieniają się kalejdoskopowo w zależności od regionu, podobnie jak zmienia się krajobraz i aura. W kulturze i tradycjach, które są barwne, głośne i radosne, tak, jak ludzie Portugalii. Ludzie, którzy przyjmują nas niemal jak rodzinę wszędzie tam, gdzie się pojawiamy.

Tak, pandemia pokrzyżowała nam plany. Na szczęście.

Zatrzymała nas w miejscu na tyle długo, żebyśmy mogli sobie uświadomić, że nasza podróż przestała być podróżą. Stała się życiem. 

Uświadomiliśmy sobie, że cztery lata przerodzą się w cztery następne i następne i następne… Przestaliśmy się stresować niedotrzymanymi terminami przekraczania granic, nieodhaczonymi punktami na liście rzeczy do zobaczenia. Czas, z głównej przeszkody, niedogodności w naszej podróży, przerodził się w największego sprzymierzeńca.

Uziemiając nas, pandemia dała nam możliwość prze-ewaluowania naszych priorytetów. 

Cel jednak wciąż pozostaje bez zmian – Alaska. Wolniej, bardziej świadomie, ale do przodu. 

Zanim jednak ponownie pojawi się możliwość ponownego bezpiecznego przekraczania granic, zabierzemy Was w podróż po wspomnieniach z dwóch minionych lat w trasie… oraz po przepięknej Portugalii.

#portugalia #portugal #regua #altodouro
- Dzień dobry! Co tam? Zima idzie? Krzyknął An - Dzień dobry! Co tam? Zima idzie?

Krzyknął Andrzej. Bo on już tak ma, że jak widzi istotę ludzką, to zagaduje. Ja gadam do zwierząt. Ludzie są jego.
Teraz też krzyknął to swoje „dzień dobry”. Do człowieka oprócz nas jednego jedynego w okolicy. Bo tu, na szczycie grzbietu gdzieś pośrodku Beskidu Żywieckiego pod koniec października prawie nikogo.

To też zaczepiony mężczyzna się zdziwił. Nie dość, że jesteśmy, to jeszcze zagadujemy.

- Dzień dobry. Ano idzie – odpowiedział trochę podejrzliwie. Jakby sprawdzał, czy to na pewno do niego.

- No, my też się szykujemy. Gospodarz lada dzień ma nam drewno na opał dowieźć – ciągnął Andrzej, nawiązując do cylindrów jasnych świeżo porżniętych pniaków, co otaczały mężczyznę jak żółte kurczęta karmiącą je gospodynię. - Bo my tu zaraz obok chatkę wynajmujemy, wie pan.

I nagle, jakby w mężczyźnie coś pękło. Pękła tama podejrzliwości i popłynęła powódź mowy. Kilka słów rzuconych, ot tak, z grzeczności wywołało lawinę relacji, wspomnień, utyskiwań i pochwał. Tego wszystkiego, co to w człowieku siedzi cichutko jak zwierzątka jakieś, gotowe wyskoczyć, kiedy tylko nadarzy się sposobność.

- Ano, panie! Trzeba się szykować już teraz, bo pogoda jeszcze dobra, ale zaraz śnieg sypnie i koniec! A zima to zawsze czai się, czai i znienacka przychodzi. Raz jest pięknie, słonecznie jak dziś, a jutro już świata spod śniegu może nie być widać. Ja, panie, wiem, bo to tu już siedemdziesiąt lat żyję.

Siedemdziesiąt lat! Jezu drogi zmiłuj się! Chłop wysoki, szczupły. Prosty jak struna. Co prawda poczochrane wiatrem i pracą włosy bardziej siwe niż czarne, ale twarz zmarszczkami usiana tylko okazjonalnie. I to tylko takimi, co robią się od śmiechu – w kącikach ust i oczu. Ramiona i ręce mocne i pewne. Machają siekierą bez wysiłku jak skrzypek smyczkiem. A węzły mięśni na przedramionach tańczą w takt wybijanego przezeń rytmu i rzucają ciężkie drewniane kloce na zieloną przyczepkę małego traktora.

Siedemdziesiąt lat! Aż się chce za siekierę i piły łańcuchowe łapać, kloce przerzucać i pracować na taką siedemdziesięcioletnią formę.

- A może panu pomóc?

... Ciąg dalszy pod linkiem w bio :) 

#vanlife #kamper #góry #beskidżywiecki #drwal #podróże
[🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] - Ależ on piękni [🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS]

- Ależ on pięknie wygląda! 

Pierwszy raz na Monastyr Sumela spojrzeliśmy z oddali mostu doń prowadzącego. Potężna budowla wtulała się w jeszcze potężniejszą górę. Bezpieczna w objęciach ostrych, skalistych stoków lewitowała nad falującym morzem zieleni. 

Według legendy, sama Matka Boska wskazała miejsce, na którym miała być wzniesiona budowla, gdzie spocznie jej ikona, wykonana przez Św. Łukasza. 

Boskie miejsce!

Im bardziej się zbliżaliśmy do monastyru, tym większy podziw w nas wzbudzał. Coraz dokładniej widzieliśmy koronki krużganków, którymi kiedyś spacerowali zakonnicy. Coraz wyraźniej wyobrażaliśmy sobie widoki, które musieli widzieć z okien swoich cel. Bezpiecznie zawieszeni w powietrzu na kamiennej chmurze monastyru.

Z aparatami w gotowości pędzimy do kasy, żeby jak najszybciej móc dokumentować piękno miejsca. Mimo ucha puszczamy uwagi kasjerki, że wejść można owszem, ale trwają teraz roboty renowacyjne. Kiwamy, głowami, że wiemy, że nieważne, że zapłacimy każdą cenę, żeby tylko zobaczyć na żywo obraz, który już wymalowaliśmy sobie w wyobraźni. 

Z palcami drżącymi gotowością naciskania migawki wpadamy na dziedziniec monastyru i …

...stajemy przed gigantycznym rusztowaniem, które zasłania absolutnie wszystko. Nie tylko sam budynek, ale i widok zeń się rozciągający.

Czasami warto wyciszyć nieco wyobraźnię, a wsłuchać się bardziej w słowa kasjerek.

#turkey #turcja #sümela #sümelamanastırı #sumelamonastery #yourshotphotographer
Five years ago, we left Singapore. We sold out al Five years ago, we left Singapore.

We sold out almost seven years of life there, and what was left fit in three bags per person.

A perfect lesson in minimalism before an even bigger one - squeezing life into a homebulance.

We managed.

Just like, we managed to leave stability, safety and comfort behind. Exchange them at a very low rate for the inconvenience, uncertainty, and often pure fear.

What for? To have an adventure? Enjoy the adrenaline rush?

That too.

But most of all, to find what is important in yourself and follow it to the end.

Even if the mind loses its mind, and common sense tears the hair out of its head.

They quickly came around.

Because it was worth it. Because it is worth it.

Our journey continues. It takes different directions, but it's getting us closer to Alaska every day. Even when we're staying in one place. Every day we walk the path we chose five years ago, and every day we appreciate it even more.

Even though sometimes we don't feel like it and think that maybe enough is enough. But then we look back. At all the road turns we overcome, all the ups and downs, all the tears of frustration and happiness. And all the people who have blessed our path with their existence.

Then we look ahead. At the road turns that wind before us, and everything that awaits there. Mystery? Sadness? Joy? Friendships?

And let Alaska be somewhere there, far away. Let it exist so that it can be reached.

But let the journey itself last as long as possible.

#aroundtheworldintheambulance
“What a gorgeous building!”, we exclaim in uni “What a gorgeous building!”, we exclaim in unison at sight of ancient mud and wood structure. Pale, sun-washed arches of balconies crown the first floor. The ground floor pleases an eye with intricate carvings around the doors and windows. Uneven boards, slanted angles, moss-covered roof – somehow all these imperfections come together in a perfect structure. “It is the 14th-century Amburiq Mosque”, explains our guide. “You see, it is not only one of the oldest mosques in Baltistan but also a symbol of unity. Up until the 16th century, Baltistan was mostly Buddhist. Even though, when in the 14th century Amir Kabir Syed Ali Hamdani – the Persian Sufi – showed up, all the people of the Shigar came together to help him build this mosque. It is a blend of cultures and architectures that you can clearly see in the Kashmiri, Tibetan and Persian patterns, symbols and motifs captured in the building. It is also a symbol and a statement that all the people, no matter the beliefs nor origins, can live together, peacefully side by side. It was created centuries ago, but I believe it is still possible.”
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#lppathfinders #polishtravelblogs #yourshotphotographer #lpfanphoto #travel #nationalgeographictraveler #instatravel #picoftheday #BBCTravel #natgeo #natgeopl #nationalgeographic #aroundtheworld #magazynpodroze #poznajswiat #kontynenty #magazynkontynenty #lpinstatakeover #prostozpodrozy #polacywpodrozy #culturetrip #pakistan #amburiqmosque #shigar #pakistan #aroundtheworldintheambulance
The town of Shigar looks almost deserted. Shops, b The town of Shigar looks almost deserted. Shops, bazaars and tea houses are closed. There is nearly no one in sight. Only here and there, we can see small groups of people gathered around someone’s house. They skin and portion freshly killed sheep in celebration of Eid al-Adha – the Festival of Sacrifice. We drive through an unusually quiet town watching as people get ready to share the meat with their families, neighbours and the poorest. 
Suddenly, an uproar slits through a silent stillness of Shigar. Hundreds of excited voices rise to the sky only to fall down onto empty streets of the town, echoing between stone houses. The upheaval repeats itself over and over again. It gets louder as we drive nearer to the dirt square surrounded by stone walls. Perched on their top, are men in all ages – from few-year old boys to silver-haired gentlemen leaning on the walking stick. All of them gaze hypnotized at the centre of the dirt square.
And there, there is a war. Men on horses charge towards each other shouting. Their mounts glisten from sweat. Clusters of sand shoot out from under their hooves, while the men sitting atop fight with wooden poles for a tiny ball. When one of them succeeds the crowd loses itself in deafening cheer for the winning polo player.
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#lppathfinders #polishtravelblogs #yourshotphotographer #lpfanphoto #travel #nationalgeographictraveler #instatravel #picoftheday #BBCTravel #natgeo #natgeopl #nationalgeographic #aroundtheworld #magazynpodroze #poznajswiat #kontynenty #magazynkontynenty #lpinstatakeover #prostozpodrozy #polacywpodrozy #culturetrip #shigarvalley #polo #pakistan #aroundtheworldintheambulance
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