Monthly Archives: November 2006

Slovenia.. not Slovakia..

Greetings from Ljubjana.. presumably beautiful capital of Slovenia. I wouldnt know because I arrived at night and went directly to the neverending line of buses at the bus stop. But now it is morning.. and as soon as I check out of this rediculous half-assed hostel, I shall really have a look around and enjoy what it has to offer.

(photo is a leftover from Verona)

Here’s text I wrote last night:

I could stay on this train forever. It is clean, it is quiet, it is amazingly comfortable, and we are travelling in a land I have never been to in my life.

I write this post from the international high speed train from Venice, Italy, destination Ljubjiana, Slovenia.

I love this train.

Funny thing, to get into Venice this afternoon with only enough time to walk out the door of the train station, snap some shots, buy a sandwich, and quickly get on this train out of town.

Some would say it was shame to miss out on the beauty of Venice. Tis true, it is beautiful. It is exactly as I remember it when I came to spend Carnivale here in the year 2000. Back then, it was my Polish-American friend Jacek and I, travelling for a week in Italy, taking a break from our studies in Aix-en-Provence, France.
But I’m much too excited to see Slovenia and get to know it a little bit.

I’ve been reading up on its amazing history. The story of it’s independence from Yugoslavia in the 90’s. The story of this part of the world in ancient times. It is nothing short of fascinating to see all the different cultures and groups that passed through here and settled, at one time or another.

Add one more to that list… 2006; Portuguese-American podjournalist speeds in on a Slovenian rail pendular train for his first ever visit.

A few nights ago, I was talking with a friend in Paris about life and how things haven’t been working out for me lately and all the uncertainties in my own life. She reminded me of the good life I have.. which, at the time, I argued was not all it is cracked up to be.

Adventures like this, small as they may be, i remember that she’s right.

bmtv28 From Como to Milano


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It is quite a contrast, which I experienced, between Lake Como and the city of Milan. This video is an attempt to show some of that.

Meanwhile, on the Streets of Beirut

It would be nice to just continue to describe these days in Italy. And the plan to head to Slovenia tomorrow evening. But while I stroll and take photos, things are taking a terrible turn in Lebanon.

At a little café here in Verona, we stopped to get lunch, and I flipped through the local newspaper. Right there on the front page: ITALIAN SOLDIERS STATIONED IN LEBANON PREPARE FOR THE WORST. With a subtext about the build up to a civil war.

I’m not going to sit here and predict or expound upon the coming or not-coming of a civil war. I’d rather just say I hope it is not so. I hope it does not happen. But then again, when your country has been bombed into the stone age just recently, after having been bombed into the bronze age only years ago, then conditions are not exactly perfect for maintaining calm and fostering prosperity.

This comes as I noticed last night that the UN released a report siting numerous human rights violations by the Israeli military during their invasion of the country. Not that we needed a report, usually when you invade a country you’re already violating quite a few rights.

My authority on all things Lebanon has long been Chris Albritton, the original blog journalist, in my eyes. But I’ll also keep an eye on my dear friends at This Is Beirut, hopefully proper information can be put forth while a civil war will NOT happen. Hopefully.

Greetings from Verona

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,
And the continuance of their parents’ rage,
Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Adopted By a Milanese Family

My last night in Milano and one of those classic things that always happens to me happens to me. After wandering town all day long, and soaking in what my friend Alberto calls “typical Milanese environment”, ie: cloudy, rainy, busy, noisy; I made plans to meet my friend Sarolina’s parents in order to pick some stuff up to bring back to Amsterdam for her.

To my surprise and to Sara’s approval, her mom and dad not only wanted to say hello and drink tea.. the moment they greeted me in front of Café Zucca the mother says to me “marko… come to our house for dinner”. They seemed like charming people and knowing how great their daughter is, I happily agree.

So there I am, a Tuesday night in November, sitting in a VERY Italian parlour with wall-to-wall books, discussing the history of Portugal with her father.. in Italian somehow. As so often happens, the father was very surprised about how similar Italian is to Portuguese…. which means Italians need to spread the word… they have lots in common with the Iberian penninsula.

In the end, I had a fantastic meal, and great discussion about their travels and life, including the recounting of a journey through yugoslavia, soviet union, turkey, iran, iraq, jordan, and syria back in the 70’s.

“It was an amazing time, the father smiled, “we were so welcome there and you were free to travel everywhere. Not like today, now you can’t get far without being questioned and so much has been destroyed.”

Afterwards they insisted on driving me back to the vlog apartment. Which has gone from housing 6+ people to an oh-so-comfy 3. (I get my own huge bed tonight). Tomorrow we’re off to Verona, where star-crossed lovers used to kill themselves I think.

For those seeking importance in the world: I’ve been listening back and reading through the transcripts that were released, of the military tribunals for guantanamo prisoners.

bmtv27 Mispelling a Beautiful Place


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This is the real deal. The amazingly beautiful Belaggio (which I didnt bother looking up proper spelling cause that isn’t the point, yes now I see I spelt the dam thing wrong.. sorry too late) This vlog starts in Varenna as we take the ferry to Bellagio. VlogEurope 06… beautiful.