Travelling

I went on a weekend trip with my aunt and two uncles (all three of them my mum's siblings). I was doing nothing - and feeling fabulous - at my cousin's place in Tartu when my uncle called and invited me. My cousin had such a good laugh about it. She pictured my aunt and uncles sitting around a table and discussing which one of the younger generation to take with them. And then they, my cousin believes, wrote down the names of all 16 children (yes, it's 16 of us) and one by one crossed out the names until only mine was left. The real story was much more earthly, I'm sure.

Whatever made them invite me, the trip was lovely. We drove some 2000 km through Estonia and Latvia and Lithuania, did a lot of sightseeing and some fine dining, we talked about theology, I heard a million stories of their childhood, and we also got on each others nerves a bit. Just like on any other trip when you spend too much time with people you are not used to be around with.

My uncles are true gentlemen. Everything was always "the lovely ladies' choice". They really did take good care of me.

My favourite day was the one we spent in Lithuania. We wandered through moorlands and high sand dunes and it all looked a lot like Jane Eyre's world. Well, I still seem to be under the spell of the Brontë sisters and their haunting books. In any case, there's something about those open, untouched landscapes that do good to one's soul.

And it was the first time I actually started liking my fancy-pancy camera. I couldn't bring myself to take pictures of manor houses and palaces and resorts we visited. They don't interest me much. But I am much more interested in little details and fleeting moments. They tend to stay longer with me.