Darius Hero

City of romance and love and shit…

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I got to spend two whole days in Paris, waiting for my truck-ride to arrive in Germany, so I can start heading that way for the rendezvous. I changed two host apartments in Paris with different people living in them, trying to get to meet as many as I can.The first two, Vicențiu and Ioana (photos in previous article) are a Romanian couple living in Paris and soon to move to Madrid. They live close to the crossing of Avenue des Maine and Rue des Plantes. And they make some fair pancakes.

The other four (Ștefan and flat-mates, I slept in the same bed with this guy) work in constructions in the French capital and live near Gare de l’Est. So I got to cover a lot of Paris. They rent a small but warm apartment (partly because of their 7 meter diagonal plasma TV). I watched some French TV again, which reminded me of my night in Calais when I found myself zapping through TV stations that I didn’t understand anyway. I finally watched gardening, by the end.

I also met “veteran” Jeg reader and young blogger Dan Toader (blog here) who sponsored my stay with 30 euros, 6 sandwiches and 10 metro tickets (plus biscuits and a Coke – so full menu). His contribution got me up the Eiffel Tour, into Louvre and basically everywhere I wanted to go.

I then visited Marius (an ex class-mate’s brother) and got to eat as much food from his birthday party I could stuff into me.

I also had a nice traditional french lunch, right next to Louvre… in a McDonald’s restaurant. The menu was called “M” and I think it stands for junkois des merde, but my French is kinda rusty.

If you visit The Louvre Museum to see Mona Lisa, be sure to check her out real good on the posters on your way in, ’cause once you’ll find the original, well, you’re really fucked then.

For all us people galloping to the really only relevant salon 6 of the 1st stage in Louvre, having to pass through centuries of all that kissing angels kiddy porn as Jesus dies on the cross babies sucking fat-ass mother’s boobs in public renaissance crap, it comes as big fucking surprise to glance at the real-life Gioconda from a roughly 10 meter distance. My compact camera can’t even zoom that far. I see two large differently colored pixels of the damn thing. And if I want to take a photo, nooo, the protective glass doesn’t reflect flash light, in case I wanna remake that in Photoshop and sell it.

Apparently, if you’re not paralyzed from at least waist down, you can’t even get near the freaking frame. Yes! For some reason, only disabled people get to see it up close. I don’t know if that’s a perverted way to bring them some kind of creepy closure to their suffering, but be sure to bring a wheel-chair for the race across the safety cable. Like I’m gonna harm the painting by pulling my teeth out and throwing them at the bullet proof window or something.

Also, if you’re already in a wheel-chair, please do not stand up and try to walk towards Mona Lisa, because they’ll tackle you straight down, they don’t care it’s a miracle.

So bare in mind: signs directing you to it are better than real thing.

I also found out that my black leather jacket has been to Paris before me. And people actually knew my jacket and they didn’t know me. It was found in a coffee shop around Arc de Triomphe, where a Romanian worked as a bartender a few years ago. From there (as no one came back to claim it), it got sold for a beer to Arpi (who also worked in Paris) and from whom I mainly stole it afterwards. Publicly, the story is I exchanged it for one of my jackets (that I didn’t know how to get rid of).

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Where were we? Ah yes, then I left Paris and now I’m in München. I got a ridiculous 200 euro donation from buddy Markus (he’s German, but has a company in Romania). I’ve slept part of it off in the night train to here and saved some extra for beer, as he advised.

I got picked up by hung-over Vlad, a fierce foot-ball hooligan (not!) and Poli Timișoara fanatic. He has a photo archive with faces of opposite teams’ ultras so he knows them around the stadium before and after important matches. That way he doesn’t crack strangers’ heads by mistake. And his girlfriend gave him a photo-mousepad of herself, as a present. Ok?

[And thus one’s a first, hehe. Weird, since I credit music usually in the description. No, I didn’t buy it for the movie. But it’s not in a commercial use either. Anybody got a clue how I can make a fuss out of this and scream abuse? Just kidding.]

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[later edit] I’ve spent all day with my host Vlad and his friend Bălti, touring München and playing mini-golf war. Luckily, my truck driver was late, so I got to edit a short clip about it and how I managed to screw up my camera. Vlad managed to kick Bălti spot on in the forehead with a golf-club. Vlad won 5 points ahead of my 57, while Bălti was way behind with 66 and disoriented with his concussion.

Vlad, after viewing my brother’s photo-blog, which he didn’t appreciate too much: “I used to be an amateur photographer, but then they stole my camera from my room…

After hitting my camera with the golf ball (no, I didn’t have several tries, I was aiming for something higher), my camera bent in the lens area. Vlad is lending me his compact Canon to use instead.

34 comentarii

  • mda. darius vad ca trece sub tacere faptul ca ne-am inteles ca doua pasarele. el cuc si moi pescarus. darius era inca sub socul noptii de la granita cu spania si drept urmare spunea lucruri fara sens, eu ma trezisem de la 5 fiindca fiica-mea avea chef de joaca, am lasat masinile mergand singure ca sa il caut prin zona de la defense. drept urmare spusele mele aveau acelasi sens cu ce zicea jegstarul… no, el batea campii, eu, apa in piua. in fine, il iert acu’. incepand cu 1 iunie nu mai cetesc bloguri oricum.

  • ai putea sa te apuci sa le pui (si) pe trilu unde n-are nime treaba cu tine si mere mai bine 😛 Poate, poate donez si io ceva la un moment dat

  • Hehe, iacătă-l şi pe toader într-o poză pe jeg 😀 Era şi logic să se lase el de bloguri căci scopul lor era să-l aducă faţă în faţă cu err jegstăr. Cum faptul s-a consumat, la vie marche devant :mrgreen:

    Cu cine ai dormit? :)) Cum dracu aţi încăput nămilelor în pătuţul ăla supraetajat?

  • ioai, ce fain ii parisu’…imi amintesc de vizita mea acolo, din pacate era ceatza si n-am vazut nimic din turnul apfel 🙁 numa ceatza.
    mona lisa e minuuuuuuscula, dezamagita am fo si io
    iar n-am reusit sa deslusesc ce ai atârnat de ambasada româniei, ai luat prea repede imaginea! asa ca silvuple, traduire !

    (stiu ca ma repet, dar filmul e grandios!)

  • Toader: Minţi printre dinţi. N-ai zis când ai vrut să mă săruţi în gură.

    Sergiu: Ţi-am zis că aşa era ideea iniţial, da’ precum în primele ţări nici nu încărca Trilul… Ştii că tot ce e *cough* 1% *cough* românesc mere doar la Tril.

    Miq: Nu ştiu din punctul de vedere al kilelor, da’ mie mi se pare că mi-a crescut burta, iar unii zic că-s mai tras la faţă. Oricum, eşec, trebuia să viu suplu şi bronzat, divin.

    Matrakuka: Este jeg.ro tag, cum am făcut pe ambasada din Ungaria, dacă te uiţi pe la unul din episoadele trecute.

    Marianscă: Acolo am durmit, cu acea. Ne-am drăgălit. 🙂

    Dragoş: Eh, da’ după ce-mi rup gâtu’ n-o să mai fiu conştient, aşa căci… 😛

  • ma, ar trebui sa spui ca: “sa cretinizam limbajul” sunt eu! (asta-i un motto de la gellu naum, incultule, nu mai intreba in stanga dreapta)

  • D-acolo din Munchen unde o tai?Auzi daca-ti faci o poza cu Machu Pichu pe cuvant ca fac o ditai donatia si te astept la intarcere cu flori si cu bomboane de ciocolata…:)

  • Eheeei, n-o s-o ţiu chiar întins până acolo, da’ într-o zi, cine ştie. An. Deceniu. 🙂 Mă trimiţi în vârf, să nu găs’ Western Union, să te hlizeşti dup-aia de mine pre Jeg.

  • Două întrebări… Mi-am adus aminte, văzând chestiile ale piramidale de la Louvre… ai dat de Graal (San Gréal la Paris)? Băiatul ălă cu Codul lui Da Vinci spunea că e acolo.
    Din cel de al doilea film… TE-AI RAS?!?!?!?! BAD, BAD DARIUS!

  • dar , sincer …devine plictisitor …chiar te vedeam prin India pana acu` … sau nu ? de ce presimt ca nu o sa iesi de pe batranu` continent ?

  • in locul tau…as inota pana in australia sa fug dupa canguri betzi… 🙂

  • felicitări, ţi-am tot citit aventurile şi trebe să zic înc-o dată felicitări.
    mi-ar place să fac şi eu un trip dinăsta (numa să mai cresc umpic) – munchen-ul l-am vazut astă vară şi e magnifique dacă ai timp să-l vezi. cu ocazia filmului tău am aflat k or dat jos schelele de pe primarie şi din odeonsplatz. mult success in continuare…

  • mariansky! pâi bine ma dubaiotule. nu-tz zisai ca inchid blogu’ curand? a? i-am pus tema noua si am scris o poezea tempita.

  • Pe unde ziceai că te întorci, când te vei întoarce?Dacă mai treci prin Paris, vorbesc cu mătuşi-mea.
    Scuze de lipsa de a fi pe fază.
    Cum mai merge excursia? Pe unde mai eşti acu?

  • Darius, ce naiba faci???? Pe unde esti, de nu ai mai postat nimic ???? E MUSAI SA STIM DE TINE !!!!!!……Bafta multa si sa stii ca imi pare rau ca nu fac parte si io din aventura asta (sunt actor si puteam sa fac niscaiva statui …pt bani bai nene…)…:))

  • darius se grabeste ca intotdeauna. atat de tare ca termin eu blogul pana termina el articolul. ce ti-e si cu tineretea asta. cat de navalnic poate fi.

  • eh, trage si el de timp, lungeste suspansul, amâna climaxul, etc etc etc
    dar in alta ordine de idei: lumea e un sat. o strabati in câteva zile 😀

    (ma distreaza ca nu s-o prins lumea ca s-o gatat aventura )

  • eu am vazut gioconda de aproape :))
    aproape, in sensu` de distanta minima ever atinsa de spectatorii de rand.
    e ceva in genu` ‘bai o s-o vedem pe mona!’
    si ajungi colea si…big deal.i mean, toti stau si privesc, unii salivand, altii tragand de cordoanele alea, poate-poate ajung la EA! but hm.n`am inteles niciodata arta.
    macar am magnet de frigider cu ea 😀 :))

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