Jurnal de calatorie: 7 Aprilie 2019
Numele meu este Olivia. Nu inteleg inca de ce, dar parintii mei m-au adus in Bruges. Inca de cand am iesit din gara si am simtit piatra cubica sub rotile carutului in care ma deplasam, m-am relaxat si am adormit. Am visat ca ma mutasem in acest oras si ca datorita frumusetii locului, eu si parintii mei am fi putut trai 100 de ani. Casele cochete, strazile curate, ciocolata din abundenta (eu nu am voie inca), linistea zilei dar in special a noptii, toate erau un remediu eficient impotriva stresului pe care il resimt frecvent cand mananc lapte si ma plimb pe bulevardele aglomerate ale orasului in care traiesc.
Dupa cateva minute de masaj pe piatra cubica, m-am trezit confuza. Ajunsesem la hotelul unde urma sa fiu cazata si sa mi se schimbe in sfarsit pampersul. Eram treaza, dar nu intelegeam de ce auzeam ca intr-un cosmar o voce neprietenoasa care-i repeta tatalui meu: “fara bebelusi in hotelul nostru”. Eu stiam ca tatal meu achitase cazarea si totusi nu puteam ajunge in camera. Am inteles ca nu este cazul sa intervin, pentru ca este posibil ca parintii mei sa fi facut greseala sa nu citeasca cu atentie termenii si conditiile hotelului, care stiti si voi ca sunt scrise mic, in locuri in care sa nu le gaseasca bebelusii. Dar ceea ce nu am inteles, a fost modul de adresare al celui de la hotel. Si eu mai plang cand fac pe mine, dar niciodata nu “sun la politie daca vad un bebelus in hotel”. Speranta noastra de viata s-a scurtat rapid cu vreo 20-25 de ani.
Eu am deja 8 luni de acasa, asa ca am invatat ca nu trebuie sa-mi fac o parere dupa o singura experienta. Asa ca am asteptat ca parintii mei sa caute cazare in alta parte. Au gasit repede un loc in care oamenii au fost draguti si m-au asteptat cu ciocolata. Mi-ar fi placut sa o gust, dar dupa ce am mai tras un pui de somn, ciocolata disparuse. Parintii mei mi-au marturisit ca nu stiu nimic despre asta. Totusi, speranta de viata crescuse din nou spre 100 de ani.
Apoi, tot restul zilei, am alergat dupa doi oameni mari pe care am inteles mai tarziu ca ii chema Ana si Beni. Parintii mei ii fotografiau, dar eu admiram usile caselor. Le-am dat ideea sa fotografieze cat mai multe din usile acelea, pentru ca am inceput sa plang fix langa cea mai frumoasa. Sper ca au iesit pozele pentru ca tatal meu parea ca nu prea stie ce face. Pe curand!
Travel Journal: 7th of April 2019
My name is Olivia. I don’t understand why, but my parents took me to Bruges. Ever since I got out of the station and felt the cubic stone under the wheels of my stroller, I relaxed and fell asleep. I dreamed that I had moved to this city, and because of the beauty of the place, my parents and I could have lived for 100 years. The stylish houses, the clean streets, plentifully chocolate (I’m not allowed to eat it yet), the quietness of the day, but especially of the night, all were an efficient remedy against the stress I often felt when I was eating milk and walking around the busy boulevards of the city I live in.
After a few minutes of massage on the cubic stone, I found myself confused. I had arrived at the hotel where I was going to be accommodated and have the diaper finally changed. I was awake, but I didn’t understand why I heard like in a nightmare an unfriendly voice that repeated to my father: “No babies in our hotel.” I knew my father had paid for the accommodation, and yet I could not get into the room. I understood there was no need to step in, because my parents may have mistakenly not read the hotel’s terms and conditions, which you also know are small, in places where babies can’t find them. But what I did not understand was the receptionist’s way of speaking. I sometimes cry when I wet my diaper, but I never “call the police if I see a baby in the hotel”. Our life has shortened rapidly by about 20-25 years.
I already have manners, so I learned that I don’t have to form an opinion after a single experience. So I waited for my parents to look for accommodation elsewhere. They quickly found a place where people were nice and they waited for me with chocolate. I would have liked to taste it, but after I had a nap, the chocolate disappeared. My parents told me they didn’t know anything about it. However, life expectancy had risen again to 100 years.
Then, for the rest of the day, I ran after two big men whom I later understood they were call Ana and Beni. My parents photographed them, but I was admiring the doors of the houses. I gave them the idea of photographing as many of those doors, as I began to cry next to the most beautiful one. I hope the pictures came out well, because my dad didn’t seem to know what he was doing. See you!