Travel, Pg 4

Travelogue: An Artist's Journey Robin Ann Walker's Trip to Eastern Europe, October 2003 - Page 4.
October 4, 2003 My first breakfast in Gela included Alka Seltzer. And an introduction to the feta cheese that would grace most of our meals. We quickly learned that just because it looks like a luscious French pastry doesn't mean there's something sweet inside. A mouthful of feta cheese can be a shock if you're not expecting it. This is the restaurant where we have all our meals, three a day. Floor to ceiling windows, so it's like being outside in that pastoral landscape. The sun blasts in here in the morning, which is so welcome when it's cold. You can hardly see faces in this picture, but that's me on the left. There are a few people missing here.
We rounded up this morning to take a walk and explore the country around the hotel. Some of us went one way and others another, but it's just one lovely vista after another, no matter which way you look or which hill you climb. The fields are laced with walking paths, made by man and animals. There is nothing motorized, no cars, tractors, certainly no 4-wheeled ATVs like we would expect to see at home.	Nancy and Bill come across some saddles on the wagon track.		This is a family working the fields - everything is done by hand.
Manually plowing the potato field.	This was my favorite barn. I took about 20 pictures of it in different light.		This church was the subject of many sketches and paintings. This is the first day, and the leaves on the aspens are still green. That changes quickly.
This is where I sat and painted my first plein air painting!	The tombstones in the cemetery all had little tin houses which were for votive candles. They looked like mailboxes. Like you could send a letter to your dearly departed.		The landscape is impossibly serene. That's an observation from a city-living American. It seems unreal. There are no sounds but the aspens, and the tinkling of bells hanging around the necks of fluffy sheep.
		Left photo We meet the sponsor tonight, Zdravko Linkin, (blue jacket) and his wife, Borislava to the right of him. He brings food and wine and Cokes - things we find out later are rare! When I met him I thought he looked like an American football player. Until he spoke! Bulgarian is a difficult language to grasp. Lots of tongue rolling and throaty sounds. The blond girl standing up is Stevka, our one waitress for every meal, every day.	The handsome Nasco, Bulgarian painter, with Zdravko at our welcome dinner.

• Home • Paintings • Travelogue • Art as Therapy • Links • Artist's Bio •