All posts filed under: People

Friendship, a story (For Julia)

At first glance, we may not be an obvious match. She, with one more child than me and therefore two years extra sleep deprivation, always looks a million dollars. I favour the dishevelled look. Her home is spotless, with shiny crumb-free surfaces and clothes smelling laundry-liquid-fresh. Even before my home was a van, my hygiene standards were ‘relaxed’. She moves quickly and busily, I slower and more ponderous. It’s no surprise that her thyroid is over-busy and mine can’t be arsed. She and I met when we were pregnant, her body coping well with the extra demands of gestating a life, mine struggling to support my disproportionately massive belly and the behemoth growing inside. It was at an antenatal class which fortunately turned out to be full of people who got along. We were but a roomful of innocents, our heads still full of fuzzy images of snuggly sleeping babies and ‘family’ times. We couldn’t have known that we were standing at the threshhold of a world full of chaos. In those first awful weeks …

Tomo, Tomo, Tomo

I just had to write a little post about our wonderful stay at Buffet Butina in Kuterevo. We don’t eat out all the time as funds generally don’t allow it but sometimes, when we’re tired, ¬†we just can’t resist. Particularly when the restaurant in question looks like the cosiest, most Tolkienesque place you may ever indulge in a plate of food. Fortunately for us, not only was the food delicious and the surroundings bewitching – our host, Tomo was also a superstar. We were given a sweet and safe place to park the van for a couple of nights, more homemade rakija than we really should have drunk, a family of hand carved spoons, and a welcome that makes a weary traveller’s heart thump with joy. Tomo’s place, like the rest of Kuterevo, feels ancient and magical. The light seemed to fall with intentional care and the combination of old wood with old embroidered and woven textiles cast a time-travelling spell. We ate vegetable soup, the best mixed grill of our lives and ustipci (a …