The Fisherman’s Bastion litters down the hill, the tongue of its stairs slowly descending towards the city. The view from a delicate mixture of neo-Gothic and neo-Romanesque structure is simply magnificent. After all you are on the hill, looking towards the houses and its red roofs, even more visible during a cloudy day.
I love city breaks! They give me enough time to get the taste of the city and recharge my batteries for the upcoming week of work. For a short period of time I am finding myself in a different country, surrounded by different people, eating local cuisine and enjoying sightseeing to the full. If I could afford it, I would be on a city break every week!
The corridors took us deeper inside the guts of the Labyrinth. The electric lights flickered, and the yellowish glare uttered strange shapes on the walls. The path was dump and mud stuck to the sole of our shoes. The wax figures looked at us with a question hanging in the air, waiting for us to stop and look back at them. We were not entirely sure in which part of the Labyrinth we were. For a moment I had a feeling we were here before, passing through too quickly. The caves seemed cold and hot at the same time…
A church is a sanctuary of silence and darkness. An escape from the noisy streets; from the people rushing around; a temple of thousands of thoughts and prayers. There are sublime shadows hidden in the corners, that are brought alive only by the kind flames of small candles: the eyes of saints tracing your every step, following your soul, probing your feelings and awaiting your attention. The cross on the wall, the stained-glass windows allowing enough light to illuminate the floor, walls and altar, the faces of the saints and the rows of empty chairs. A consecrated space, wearing a dark outfit, with the strings of lights to lift up the mood of the congregation.
The deep blue sky was slowly turning into blackness. The golden building almost touched the sky, caving into the night, changing colours. There were perfect neo-baroque ornaments on the main entrance façade that finally managed to escape from the prying eyes of the crowd, forcing itself into the humid pools. The aim united the crowd: to absorb some sulphate, calcium, magnesium, bicarbonate, which float lazily in the water. We joined in, driven by the tardiness of the intensive day, hoping to regain our lost strengths. Seeking comfort in the caring hands of the two thermal springs, pulsating under the pavement.
Wind Travelers 