"A Storm of Swords" by George R. R. Martin

Just finished second part of George R. R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" fantasy saga and loved it so much that without any pause I decided to continue with a third part, which truth to be told looked a bit frightening because even my copy is paperback it has more than thousand pages so I was aware that this will be a task that would probably take enormous amount of time to finish and I could easily read two books in the time needed for this only one. But guess what, even though I am fully aware of massive volume in my hands, I swallowed the first 100 pages in one sitting! The unexpected Flu slowed me down somewhat but right now I am enjoying it so much that I have no doubt that I will finish this book in no time - and after all, its not about number of books one reads but how much one enjoys them. 

Yesterday I was in Dubrovnik (Kings Landing in TV serial) and bought myself a nice wall map of the whole Westeros and the rest of magical kingdoms - still need to put it on my wall, but it is thrilling to see it all clearly. As I expected, story jumps from one place to another, from one character to another and often I wish Martin just sticks to one character and his adventures, but he is the author and we just have to follow. Of course I know perfectly well what will happen, except that novel is far richer in characters and details so it really feels like a completely different experience. And while in TV serial I was basically bored with parts that dealt with Daenerys Targaryen here I have no problem with her at all, its all very well written and I can easily imagine all the places, clothes and faces author suggests. I think Martin had hugely re-invented the whole fantasy genre and it is thanks to him that it created huge success not only for his, but many other fantasy novels that used to be kind of cult favourites so far. Every few years new publishing phenomenon comes along - usually completely unexpected trend - be it Dan Brown conspiracy theories, Tudor dynasty historical romances and now this explosion of fantasy, it is interesting to see how some people are trailblazers and than the whole industry follows with countless similar titles until the market is saturated, until we all become tired of it and than somebody else comes along with something new that will become the next big thing. The sheer Gargantuan volume of this novel promise that I might need a break from Westeros after a while, we will see. In some countries it was actually published in two volumes.

Buco i Srđan

It was a completely casual listening trough old pop festival albums - usually completely unassuming and without expectations activity, where I am mostly familiar with performers - that brought me to acoustic duo Buco i Srđan who turned out to be my new discovery. How they ever slipped trough the cracks and fell under my radar, I have no idea but finally I seem to have catch up with them. They were Croatian version of Simon & Garfunkel and if you mix everything you always knew about people like Hrvoje Hegedušić and Ibrica Jusić but add extra ingredients of two harmonious voices with far more musicality (sorry Hrvoje and Ibrica) and gentle, troubadour sensitivity that in hands of these two guys feels natural and appealing, you get this music duo whose music was quite captivating.

Veče je nas prijatelj (1974)

First LP album by now legendary acoustic duo is still a thing of beauty. 

Composer Đelo Jusić stands behind this so naturally it has that particular magic of Dubrovnik renaissance troubadour magic, the album actually opens with bells ringing from a church tower and you can clearly imagine guys sitting on some steps and gently crooning & strumming their guitars. Jusić might have arranged and wrapped everything in a cellophane as a producer but guys both wrote most of the material and it is a enchanting collection of acoustic, late-night romantic ballads, very poetic and I dare to say, timeless. Just listen to "Život je lijep" if you want to hear true local evergreen and now-classic. There is a gentle nod to Edgar Allan Poe and legendary local beauty Cvijeta Zuzorić with occasional upbeat song between haunting ballads, however it is when two guys join their voices and you hear that soft, particular, lovely dialect  from Dubrovnik (pronounced in words žar, dar) that true stardust comes along and your heart melts. Absolutely beautiful. 

Zagreb '73

The way these pop festivals go, 1973 was actually not a bad year at all. 

Sure, mammoth orchestras were still plodding behind performers and strings were swirling to the skies, but same things were happening everywhere else at the time, from San Remo to Eurovision so I guess it was unavoidable. You can just imagine conductors twirling the batons and backing choruses clapping hands in unison, big and very lacquered hair, however the victory is between the lines in a small steps: old dinosaurs are slowly being replaced with fresh, new artists and the impression is that old festival actually promotes some different, promising names instead repeating same old names again and again. Where in 1950s and 1960s this festival constantly had same list of performers, now we actually have some young voices who would later mark the decade.

Ex-rocker Dalibor Brun leaves Rock music for good and strikes biggest hit of his career with excellent, soulful ballad by husband & wife tandem Hrvoje Hegedušić and Maja Perfiljeva whose songs brought huge hits to many artists at the time. "Otkad si tuđa žena" was kind of "When a man loves a woman" ballad and its still played on the radio. For a moment it seemed that Brun might became interesting artist. Instead of him, the next big thing would became  young, fresh-voiced singer from Sarajevo named Zdravko Čolić who was here making his first steps on serious, bigger music scene and although this particular song was not very memorable, he sings like a dream and very soon he will explode like a supernova, his truly great moment is just around the corner so its interesting to hear him in this moment, everything is ready, he just needs the right song. Usually I don't care for Miro Ungar at all and his quasi-intellectual intro here is irritating, but it soon it turns into passable Tom Jones imitation and refrain is surprisingly danceable and even energetic in "She's a lady" kind of song. Judging by this LP, ladies were not particularly inspired this year: even last year winner Josipa Lisac had a forgettable little ditty (but than again, her team was busy creating her now-classic debut album and the first Croatian rock-opera simultaneously, so its a wonder they ad anything for her at all). However, the prettiest surprise was a acoustic duo from Dubrovnik called Buco i Srđan whom I vaguely remembered just by name and always thought it must be something wimpy where in fact they were actually darn excellent. On this festival they had now-classic song "Dobro jutro Margareta" that we all remember today from a cover by completely another singer and it came as surprise to find out this was original and very, very beautiful indeed. I liked the sound of these guys so much that I did some more research about them later.

The Magic Kingdom: Malta

Since I wake every morning in a different place, no wonder that with years I slowly lost enthusiasm for sightseeing - Europe is still my all-time-favourite place in the world but even here it all comes down to three main things: post office, supermarket and Wi Fi. I have walked up and down trough Lisbon, Gibraltar, Barcelona, Nice, Cannes, Monte Carlo, Genova, Livorno, Rome, Naples, Palermo, Venezia, Dubrovnik, Athens and Istanbul so many times (and this is just the Mediterranean) that nowadays its hard to find something interesting that would thrill me again like the first time when I saw these places a good decade ago. However, there is always something that inspires me and reminds me of a beauty of travelling - this time it was prettiest little forgotten corner of Mediterranean, Malta. 

Malta stands roughly halfway between Europe and Africa. It is not just a island but a true archipelago with only three of the largest islands inhabited (18 much smaller islands are still completely empty) and millions ago this was land connecting us with Africa. It also means that this was the place where all sorts of different  cultures, languages, races and traditions were mixed, not to mention wars fought for this particular spot. There are two official languages spoken here: English and Maltese, which is some combination of various influences (Italian, French, Arabic and Semitic) and local people are the sweetest, friendliest and happiest people I have ever met in all the years that I travelled around the world. I noticed long time ago that when long-faced and serious people enter my shops they are usually from Northern Europe and if they come in a large, smiling and chatty group, speaking the language I don't recognise, they are usually Maltese. 

Being where it is, at this strange geographical point neither here or there, Malta was probably first populated by people coming from Sicily, which can still be seen with naked eye on a clear day from here. We know next to nothing about first, original islanders except that they left impressive temples behind them, lots of underground cemeteries and all sorts of figurines of people sleeping. And they disappeared suddenly. So this temple-building people were the oldest known Maltese people but somehow they ended forgotten by history and would stay forgotten if not for a chance accident some 100 years ago when some builders fell trough a hole in a basement and discovered impressive labyrinth of underground temples, true prehistoric secret world. And a lots of figurines of people sleeping which even today nobody can explain. Sleep? Death? Cult of death? Another interesting curiosity are absolutely mind-boggling wheel tracks in a stone roads that nobody can explain logically. I mean, we are talking about stone age so what kind of transport left marks in stone roads? Everything else that came after was less impressive - Bronze age people came later with their weapons, Romans, Carthaginians, Byzantine Empire, Sicilians, Muslims, Knights of Malta, it was all well documented and true, there are some interesting stories about them but these first mysterious Maltese, I tell you, this was Atlantis. 

I have visited capitol of Malta on many occasions before but this time I had a mission: to finally go to the local National Museum of Archaeology and see with my own eyes the famous The Sleeping Lady, the figurine from thousands of years ago. Valetta is one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I have ever seen in my life, magnificent medieval town built by Knights of Malta right after the horrific Siege of Malta in 1565 when Ottoman Empire tried unsuccessfully to invade the island (and locals won the heroic victory over ten times more powerful army) - thanks to historic documents we actually know the exact date when first stone of the future new town was placed, it was on 28 March 1566. It feels and looks completely fantastic, like some fairy tale about knights and dragons, actually it looks like much bigger Dubrovnik, in a way. Valetta is also very crowded with tourists not only because of the beauty of the place but also because it has warm climate and it feels dreamy and heavenly there. Palaces, churches and museums all over the place. I can only imagine what it looks like in the evenings, it must be out of this world. Well, this time I was absolutely determined to see The Sleeping Lady and went to the museum immediately, even though the heat was truly killing me - true African heat - it turned out to be really pretty palace and exposition about prehistoric Malta was actually very interesting, these first people have left quite a few figurines of chubby, sleeping people behind but this one is the only one that survived several thousands of years. And there she was, the mysterious Sleeping Lady of Malta in her own room, under one dramatic light just like Nefertiti (but much, much older) - I almost squeaked with delight for finally finding her and was happy as piglet. She is adorable figurine (not bigger than palm of the hand) of chubby lady sleeping on her side and since she was found in the underground temple that also served as cemetery, I think she probably represented death. But since my impressions were excitement, happiness and joy, I got nothing negative here, the vibes I felt were love, peacefulness and comfort. Being a secret pagan, I have my own vague ideas about reincarnation and possibility of re-visits to the places we knew from before so this all makes perfect sense to me. I had the same feeling in Jerusalem, the whole experience left me thrilled, excited and happy like I had just visited some place from a dream. 

Compassion

Recently I have visited Split and after I finished all the business I had in mind (because my travels are rarely without things to do like obligatory banks, post offices, work materials, keys and such) on my way back to the port I was stopped by a obviously embarrassed young man asking for a small change as he was stranded without enough for a bus fare. 

Now, I am first to give small change away, left & right, to anyone who asks.

Not because I am naive or stupid or because I have millions to give away but because I truly believe that compassion is the most important thing in our lives. It is something I feel with deepest conviction at the very core of my whole being and everything else is our own little preoccupation, our private little world focused on ourselves - our friendships, loves, family, colleagues, plans and ambitions - but showing a compassion to a fellow human being (or animal, for that matter) is where a person shows his quality or lack of it. Often I was shocked to encounter homeless people or beggars in the streets of so call metropolises around the world, where thousands of people ignored them and just passed by without a glance, where perhaps a small donation would mean a world to these unfortunate people. And I don't care a fig for cynical voices advising me not to bother "because he is just a lazy, professional beggar" or "you know, he is just pretending, he got more money than you can imagine", I always help whenever I can and often later I laugh at myself because it is this given coin that I miss when its my turn to pay in a shop counter but I don't care. I believe in Karma + it makes me feel good that perhaps I have helped someone. Not just beggars, sometimes I simply gave a small gift of candy to my cabin cleaner or that tired bartender on my ship, without a particular reason except to cheer them up and show them they are not alone in this world, somebody noticed them and understand them. Often friends would ask me why did I give a coin to the beggar woman circling the coffee terrace tables, "because I can see this is a person down on her luck and I see it in her eyes" is my answer. It is oh-so-easy to judge and smirk at people less fortunate, who might have all sorts of problems but I also think there is a very thin line between you sitting there with your coffee and that beggar next to your table - the roles can switch suddenly and they do. As for professional beggars, come on people, this is not Charles Dickens, this is real world, show me one person who would rather walk around in the wind and the rain than having some sort of security and comfortable place to work & live. I remember seeing TV news about homeless man sleeping in cemetery (because this was the only place he could find) and it upset me so much, I was thinking each night about him as I snuggled in the warmth of my bed and it was freezing November outside, until I contacted TV station and found a way to send him some money for the at least temporary rent.

Back to my Split guy. I didn't have any money with me because everything was already spent on post office, documents, extra keys and such but as I answered, something in his eyes - silent expression of bitterness, another disappointment, embarrassment, one more rejection - struck me deeply and suddenly I remembered similar situation many years ago, when I should have reacted but did not and regretted ever since. No doubt the similar guy from years ago was genuine, so was this one - I could feel it - his clothes were no dirty and he seemed truly nice person stranded without a money for the bus, which can happen to anybody. So off I went to the ship, turned my pockets inside out, found nothing, knocked on the next door, borrowed money from a colleague and run outside where my guy was already slowly walking away from the port because no luck here. When I called him back and gave him money (and spoke his language) he was actually so surprised and relieved that he started to cry - it turned out he was bound for Međugorje and this being famous religious centre, he must have thought that his prayers were answered. Perhaps they were. This money did not mean absolutely nothing to me because I work and can earn it but to this person right now it was a huge favour that helped him to get on a bus. And I believe 100% that he was genuine, because I could feel & see it on him. I was young and penniless once, in my student days (though I must admit that I bore it with smile and was always cheerful back than, because I kind of saw myself as bohemian and loved the feeling of going trough life with empty pockets) so I know how it is. I floated back on the ship, happy with myself and feeling good about the whole thing - what a lucky chance that I found him just as he was leaving - the only thing bothering me that there were really a lot of people returning to the ship and absolutely nobody helped him, though just one coin would have been help already - I  mean, thousands of these old farts passengers just thought about the heat, their own feet, big asses and cool air condition waiting for them and nobody stopped to help a person asking for a darn coin - which I'm sure they had, otherwise they wouldn't be on a cruise trough Mediterranean. I am also 100% sure they would pass by without helping either me or you if we are drowning, so many people today simply smirk and say something cynical (just check comments bellow the news articles) that as much as I believe in humanity, something tells me people like you and me are actually exceptions rather than a rule. One in a hundred would help, would pull you out of the water, majority would just look and mind their business and hurry home for lunch.

Sometimes I wish some volcanic eruption combined with flood and meteorite just blows the humans away once for all and leave the planet to animals and plants. Even animals have helping instincts. The older I get, the more I prefer animals to people. 

"Elemental" by Loreena McKennitt (1985)

Had she been born earlier, Loreena McKennit would probably be a gentle folkie strumming her guitar and singing about tender & fair maidens. Being what it is, she comes on a 1980s music scene (that was full of synthesisers, colourful outfits and big hair) looking back to what is basically a traditional folk music in a new clothes, now called "ambiental" and "new age". Still, no matter how you call it, the fact is that this music stands in a stark contrast to what was on music charts in 1985, the year of Live Aid, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna and Miami Vice.

"Elemental" is a surprisingly simple, lovely traditional folk album based almost exclusively  on ancient melodies and poetry (W.B.Yeats, William Blake) and because it is so unpretentious it works like a balm against everyday noise. The idea of the album is really similar to what folk singers did in early 1960s except that in 1985 McKennitt could add little touches of studio wizardry to make it sound more like magical, soothing and atmospheric. Being harpist, accordionist and pianist, she uses these instruments to weave the tapestry of something between Celtic and medieval, while her cool, calm angelic soprano sounds just perfect for this kind of music. There is even an instrumental ("The Lark In The Clear Air") serving like a gentle interlude between poetry and affectionate nod towards artist's family roots is represented in haunting ballads "Carrighfergus" and "Kellswater" where we are treated with wonderful cameo by Cedric Smith. 

This, being McKennit's first official studio album is naturally very different from what comes with time - later, her music will get noticed by bigger recording companies and they would help her to metamorphose into full-blown quasi-symphonic, cinematic new age priestess but here everything is still very basic - extremely pretty nevertheless, perhaps because music is so uncluttered with production (it was produced by artist herself and recorded only in a week). Everything you always loved about Loreena McKennit is already here, on her debut, only without massive orchestrations and I don't think it was a matter of budget but artistic decision to keep it spare, with only occasional sound of the rain and distant thunder as decoration to music that is extremely seductive in itself. I have had heard quite a lot of McKennit with years and must admit that this rates amongst my favourite in her catalogue, it really feels like peeking behind the door into some magic, mystical land - once you enter, be warned, you might seriously fall under her spell and stay there. It might be her debut but there is nothing clumsy or unfinished here, it is quite a enchanting, impressive album that would appeal to poetry-loving audiences. Personally, I am surprised how much I enjoy this album and constantly rediscovering new beauty about it.