18th of November, Train: Northampton-London
November rain and busy London. Train full of people reading newspapers. A British obsession for rumors and safety.
Voices all around. Young, old. Kids laughing.
I close my eyes and enjoy the simple feeling of being present.
Euston Station
A few hours in search of urban cuteness.
The commercial face of Christmas on the other side of every window.
And many people rushing around.
The intensive smell of coffee and expensive perfumes.
French people looking for the perfect breakfast in English patisseries.
Coldness, fog and rain.

Music and street performances.
London is alive, has a pulse.
London is the right place to be at my age.
London, Madrid, Cluj..

The urban gigantism.
The official cover of the city. Serious, grey and sober buildings.
Parliament, ministries, huge cathedral, large streets and lots of semaphores.
And the disappointing Buckingham palace. Small and far from the promised elegance.

And somewhere there the small lovely streets. Bohemian hidden corners. Waves of incredibly beautiful people. I could look at them for hours, wandering. Catching pieces of conversations.
That caressing accent.
Long loud silence into the eyes of lonely strangers.
Clumsy boys in costumes and elegant men in hoodies.
Finally the metro sound and the underground world I’ve missed so much.
And Subcarpați at the end of that journey.

One day in London and the first in UK, as I always imagined it has to be…



On this day I learned to fly
But suddenly life cut my wings
Vicalvaro, Madrid. September, 6th 2016.
Metro at midnight, lonely streets and the lonely soul of mine
If only I could return for just a second…
If only I could feel my steps walking on the same roads
If only…

What’s left after a dream comes true?
Ashes and dust
Nostalgia and echoes

La capitală

Veri aride, uscate
Fierbi în proriu-ți sânge
Clădirile fumurii nu mai fac umbră

Rata de nesimțiți pe metru pătrat e mai înaltă decât oriunde
Și probabilitatea de a te simți extrem de prost e destul de mare
Contactul vizual fiind primul punct de plecare spre o experiență neplăcută

Străzi și gropi
Gropi pe străzi
Case multe, înghesuite
Vile și curți cu suprafața unui parc
Vechea reședintă a lui Ceaușescu
Bulevardul Eliade plin de verde și de clinici, cladiri, magazine care-i poartă numele

Arcul de triumf falnic în mijlocul străzii

GreenSound Festival
Gazonul proaspăt
Gherete cu haine, mâncare
Cu orice ar aduce profit
Muzica sunând tare din difuzoare
Adolescenți trăgând cu poftă din țigări scumpe
Atât de fragezi și atât de iraționali
O generație a tehnologiei
Una cu prea multe defecte și fițe

90 minute de dor, iubire, folclor
Tot atâtea de emoție, nebunie și infinit respect…



First Romanian escape

Cluj-Napoca – Sighisoara

Two Australians waiting for the train
“Are you travelling alone”
“Yes, yes I do, and I love it”
Nice talk, warm goodbye

The jeans jacked reminding me the day trips near Madrid
I found the hills of Aranjuez, the forests of El Escorial, the small streets of Cervantes’ city in its pockets.
A nostalgic smile
A closed door behind

Train sound, heart beating fast
Sichisoara’s small streets warmed by the sun of March
A lot of secret places
A lot of colors
One delightful day to let yourself seduced by the enchanting lullaby of the roads


Once the heart of Latinity
Now, its ruins
The symbol of glory
The perfect mix of styles

Narrow streets, awesome old buildings
Colorful walls, amazing balconies smelling of spring
Quiet Tevere following its path
Beautiful people, words that simply flow gently touching the soul
Italian elegance, Italian guys and Italian food

Rome on two wheels
The happiness in its purest form
Falling in love
Embracing everything with my eyes, my soul and with my whole existence…
And why is it always so hard to leave?