The largest Red Army base outside the Soviet Union was a 40 minute drive south of Berlin.
It was just beyond where the new airport — and the old Schönefeld SXF — is today.
Writer, Explorer and Travel Philosopher
The largest Red Army base outside the Soviet Union was a 40 minute drive south of Berlin.
It was just beyond where the new airport — and the old Schönefeld SXF — is today.
I’m moving flats next month and saying goodbye to Tempelhofer Feld, my favourite space in the neighbourhood.
But before I pack up my books and lug them across town, I’d like to tell you a bit about the history of what was once the world’s largest building.
I’m moving flats soon, after four years, leaving this neighbourhood behind for another pre-war altbau in a different part of the city.
Imminent departure has prompted me to poke around some of those minor historic sites I’ve passed so often but never gotten around to exploring.
Kapka Kassabova is taking us back to the Balkans.
I’ve been looking forward to something new from this wonderful writer since Border, which was my top travel read of 2018.
That earlier book touched on the author’s childhood in Bulgaria, and To The Lake takes us deeper as she journeys to her grandmother’s place of origin in the mountainous Macedonian lake district.
A friend asked me this week, “What do you think of the ‘deep state’?
The short answer is, “I try not to.” Mostly because it has no meaningful impact on my life.
‘Deep state’ is the idea that some sort of shadow government made up of rich, powerful actors wields power, either within or behind the legitimately elected government.
In a previous blog, I promised to share my thoughts on the post-pandemic future of Europe, in particular for North American readers who may not be following developments on this side of the Atlantic.
Travel’s off limits for the next several months, so we might as well talk about something.
We left the Pirin mountains the next day and entered the vast flat plain of the Maritza River Basin that connects Sofia to Plovdiv and opens out towards the Black Sea. The was the great path from Europe to the Levant. The road to Constantinople and Asia.
It was time to move on to the Pirin Mountains, and the off-season ski resort of Bansko, where hotel suites went for bargain prices and half the restaurants were closed. The Thracians knew the Pirins as ‘Orbelus’ (‘snowy mountain’). The Slavs associated them with Perun, god of storms and thunder, the most powerful deity in their pantheon. To us, they promised some of the best hiking this side of the Alps.
The beginning of the journey didn’t bode well. Bulgaria Air was nearly two hours late. We eventually boarded an unmarked plane with ancient seats and the sort of old-style seatbelts I hadn’t seen in at least a decade.
Lastovo: isolated Adriatic island of jagged hills clad in holm oak and aleppo pine, where the sea laps sunbleached stones with tongue translucent blue.
Settled by Illyrians and later controlled by Rome, over the centuries it was destroyed by Venice for harboring pirates, joined the Dubrovnik Republic, and passed through the hands of Napoleonic France, Austria, Italy, Yugoslavia, to finally become a part of independent Croatia.
Copyright © 2021 Ryan Murdock
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