Demonstration for democrazy in Tbilisi From a low wall diagonally opposite, there’s a good view of the Georgian parliament: a carefully tended strip of green, bubbling fountains of water, columns of the Stalinis monument, and yellow tape cordoning off the entire area. “Do not cross” is even printed in English. The parliament has been declared a restricted area, at least temporarily, on this scorching midday. A few camera crews have set up adjacent to the barrier tape - anythin

The Dogu Ekspresi from Ankara to Kars It’s still light, the air still hot, when the conductor at Ankara train station gives the signal for departure. At 6 PM, the Dogu Ekspresi sets off. On time, of course. The name indicates the direction: this is the train heading east, from the capital to the end of the Turkish world, to Kars on the border with Armenia. Crossing Anatolia, a route of 1,310 kilometers, with 47 stations and a journey time of 26 hours. If it stays on time. In A

Namik Çolpan at his Pudding Shop in Istanbul He sits quietly in front of his restaurant, a glass of tea in hand, his gaze fixed on everything: cars zipping along the street; people hurrying past between the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia; and, of course, especially those turning in from the sidewalk and passing him to enter the Pudding Shop. Namik Çolpan watches them with satisfaction and says, “We are world famous.” He’s actually right, and he should know, because he owns the

Votsala Hotel in Lesbos Whenever Zaki must leave his refuge, he prepares for the worst: being jostled. Having people demonstratively hold their noses as they walk past him. Having them shout, „go back to where you came from! We don’t want you here.” He says he’s experienced this often enough since arriving on the Greek island of Lesbos as a refugee in 2017. Mytilene, the island’s lively capital, has always been tricky territory for him. But Zaki, who out of caution only gives

Banieres of Nafplio Greece II: In the Pool of the Gods Three powerful strokes to the edge of the pool, one more inhale, and then the turn. How wonderful it is to breathe in the sea air; to feel the saltwater carrying you; to see the sand, the stones and the seaweed at the sea bottom; to feel like a fish among fish - and all for exactly 20 lanes. That’s already a nice morning workout: 20 x 50 meters. And where could it be nicer than in this pool in the sea? Building a swimming

The ancient synagogue in Ioannina: Jews only come as visitors The synagogue lies hidden behind a high stone wall. The Hebrew words “Baruch Hashem,” blessed be God, or in colloquial usage, thank God, is carved into the stone. This was once a place of living prayer. Today, it is above all a place of remembrance. “Five thousand visitors come here each year,” says Allegria Matsa over the phone. “They come from Israel, but also from the US, Sweden, and France.” But anyone who arri

The Alps in Albania - Tourism is coming On the terrace of Bec Villi, paradise is close at hand. Lush greenery surrounds, crowned by the rocky cliffs of the Albanian Alps, and a bright blue sky stretches above everything. Birdsong, of course, and a pleasant breeze. But from down in the valley below, the sound of a new era is already dawning, with hammers, with drills, with saws. On a steep slope halfway above the mountain village of Theth lies the Bec Villi Guesthouse, named ep

Sarajevo, a deadly war zone for many children Nina was a happy child. A pretty twelve-year-old girl with brown hair and a bright gaze. She loved dancing, and she hated the war. Her name is inscribed on a plaque on a corner house in the Gorica district of Sarajevo: “Dear Nina, you walked down this street to school, and from this street you left for eternal rest. You will live on in our thoughts.” It has been 30 years now since the war raged in Sarajevo. From April 1992 to Nove

Jeruzalem in Slovenia, vineyards and more High up on the hill sits the village, entwined with green vines, surrounded by gentle silence. Is this paradise on earth, the city of heavenly peace as the holy scriptures promise? Of course, the town sign leaves no doubt: Jeruzalem is written there, in black on yellow ground. But this Jeruzalem is spelled with a “z,” and this small letter marks the difference. Jerusalem with an “s” lies in the so-called Holy Land, it is the City of Da

Off into the World! My wife and I are going on a trip around the world, and when we tell people about it, we usually receive either nice or envious comments: That’s great, I’d love to do that sometime, and so on. Of course, it’s good for us, this balm of something special; it empowers and flatters us. But the trick didn’t work with one old friend. He simply said: “Oh, and I like sitting on my couch sometimes.” So we have been happily talking about where we’re going. And sudde

Gasthaus Rebhuhn Berggasse 1090 Vienna It had been a while, the memories had faded a bit, the taste of the food had long since vanished from the tongue, but the longing remained: to return to the Rebhuhn, to sit at one of the wooden tables in the back corner, to eat a Wiener schnitzel in Vienna. Is that still considered wanderlust or already homesickness? It doesn’t matter. It becomes clear that even the longest journey to the Rebhuhn is worth it when the waiter behind the co