Slovenia // The Legend of Erazem Prediamski (a toilet story)

I hope you learn how to love yourself the way you love others. - unconditionally and without hesitation. - [unknown quote]

Tonight... from a train which rides from Ljubljana to Vienna with a lovely story to share...

This morning I was on a mini van with the guide (Tine) and a Russian couple living in Norway.

(voice-over: Russians and Norway OMG!!!)


During the trip to the Predjama Castle, I have lernt two things:

1. That Tine (my guide's name) in Norway is a milk brand

2. That several Slovenian words related to the world of cars come from German, that means that I can speak Slovenian as well ;)

But... let's talk about what I wanted to tell you... that is

[drumroll]
[drumroll]
[drumroll]

... the Legend of Erazem Prediamski AKA a toiltet story...

Let's start from the beginning...

Once upon a time Slovenia used to have its own Robin Hood, the Knight Erazem - the robber baron.

Everything was almost fine until Erazem killed the kinsman of the Holy Roman Emperor, Frederik III. ------> NOT GOOD 

Frederik was so furious that he forced the baron into hiding in his castle.

But  Erazem was too clever. He managed to survive thanks to a secret passage between the Castle and the nearby Postojna Cave. For an entire year + 1, the baron smuggled food and drink through the tunnel till one of his soldiers betrayed him.

Since the weakest part of the castle was the outhouse on a high floor of the outside façade, they decided to attack him once there. And that was the place where the toilet was (the hole you see on the top left of the picture here).

Guess what happened... yeah.... it's exactly what you think...

The servant raised a flag and a cannon shot blasted the baron off the toilet.

Might be a legend, might be the truth... but it made me smile, thanks Tine!

"Consider nothing impossible, then treat possibilities as probabilities." - D. Copperfield

France // Caraïbos Lacanau Pro - Everything started from a picture

I am the shore and the ocean, awaiting myself on both sides - D. Stojanovic

A few months ago I saw a nice picture taken by a girl I met in Pyrmont (Sydney). It was just
a view of a fence some grass and sand with the sea in the back.

The caption was "Lacanau-Océan" and I told to myself, my next trip will be there. Honestly I am saying that about many other places and I would have never thought it was going to happen this year.

Well, Ryanair has played a part in that ;)

Lacanau Pro  -20th August 2017

My sister and I got there on the last day of the Lacanau Pro, which is a surf competition held in Lacanau every year and it attracts many sufers and fans from all over the world.

The first edition was in 1979 and it usually takes place in mid-August. It is one of the steps to the World Qualifying Series (WQS), which will then lead to the World Championship Tour (WCT).

Needless to say that the power of the ocean has always had some magic spell on me. Though with big waves, I love the peace within the water.

We got no troubles... life is bubbles under the sea. - Sebastian

The two winners of this year's Lacanau Pro were Philippa Anderson (Australia) and Marc Lacomare (France).

Philippa

Marc

Philippa is an enfant prodige, grown up in South Africa deeply in love with her element (ed. the Ocean) while Marc is winning whatever.

...and the ocean taught her how to drown in all the things bigger than herself. - R.M. Drake

He said: Surfing's one of the few sports that you look ahead to see what's behind. - L. Hamilton

--- oUr sToRy----

We didn't try to surf... too hard ... we just enjoyed the sea and the beautiful wind of a Summer afternoon ;) --- as you can watch in our funny video ;)

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
admit impediments. Love is not love
which alters when it alteration finds,
or brends with the remover to remove.

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
that looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
but bears it out even to the edge of doom.

                                                 If this be error and upon me prov'd,
                                                 I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

                                                                                               (Sonnet 116 - W. Shakespeare)