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After returning from the Ski Championships museum, I walked straight to the city. I had not known the shortcuts yet, the gpeaceful graveyard would have been discovered two days later. I walked by the highway and ran into my friends heading to the festival area. It was still about 2,5 hours before the start, and i told them I wanted to get something to eat. They said they had some snacks, and I gave up. We all walked to the festival area, drinking beer and picking blueberries along the way. I wondered if there were any trolls in Swedish forests. In Norway, there's no doubt about that. In Sweden, it doesn't look that way. Well if there are any, they are certainly not in this area. Too many people, too much noise, and a graveyard. Not the best place for trolls. My friens told me they've been to the mine (everyone's been there but me) and I told them about the hills (no one's been there but me! gee, I'm unique).

We had a small picnic in the shadows (I quickly froze and returned to the sunlight; I keps freezing because I've taken only summer clothes with me, and it's pretty cold in Sweden; besides, I love sun and heat), then my friends received their VIP bracelets (I asked if they were available for the last day only and was offered to wait until the last day), then they went to the area and I skipped to the campside to change and leave the tropheys. I rejoined them in the line for Sabaton signing session. There was still an hour left but the line was HUGE. My friends were amongst the first 30 people in line. I joined them. I wans't planning to ask for Sabaton signatures, but then changed my mind when Mary showed me her train ticket from Arlanda Airport to Falun. "They've signed everything I had", she explained. "So now it's only the ticket left". Ow yeah. She travels to every Sabaton show within her reach. I've only been to three shows before. I pulled out my train ticket and thought it was a good idea. They would see I had come from far away.

One hour of waiting, and the band appears. We all sang "Happy Birthday" to Thobbe Englund who was turning 36 that day and proceeded to the tent. I held a small photo camera in my left hand and kept taking pictured every moment.

Thobbe was the first to sign my ticket. "You're welcome, Jelena", he went. "Any wonders why I know your name?" he asked, seeing that I was not surprised. "It's written on your ticket".

"Well I know your name too", I laughed. "I even know you have a birthday, and I know how old you are. So happy birthday". He smiled at me and I moved on, giving my ticket to Hannes Van Dahl.

"Where are you from?" he asked. "Lithuania", I replied. "Slovenia?" he went. OH MY LORD. Usually I tell strangers I'm from Slovenia because I love this country, I lived there, and it certainly feels like it's my spiritual homeland. It was so sweet of Hannes to mishear the name of my country that way. "Lithuania", I repeated, "but Slovenia also. Thanks".

Mary had taught Par Sundstrom to say "naprimer" somewhen before. Well it means nothing. It's "for example" in Russian, but my friends and I use it a lot in many meaning. Now she was in front for me and I heard her saying "Thank you naprimer" after receiving Par's signature. I found myself in front of Par. "Hello naprimer, could you sign this naprimer?" I went. "Naprimer", he replied and left a signature. "Thanks naprimer", I said. He kept looking down in some kind of suprise all along. Okay, maybe that wasn't a good joke. Joakim Broden and Chris Rorlund quickly signed my ticket, and we all left for a drink.

I returned there almost three hours later, and there were still people waiting to get their signatures. I walked to the merchandise and asked if there were any Falconer T-shirts. Not yet, they said. There were more people asking the same, and the seller told us to return the next day or the last day when Falconer were supposed to arrive. They had to bring some memorabilia with them, he said. I ran into a lady wearing a self-made Falconer tee and asked her where she'd gotten it. She suggested to take my contacts and aks her friend to make one tee for me, but it would take time. No thanks, I said, I want it now. I scattered the tents but there wans't anything I'd like to buy. The merchandise at Rockstad Falun was way too small. There was a lot more stuff at Kavarna Rock where I've been a year before.

The line of Sabaton signature hunters has almost disappeared when my new friend Karin showed up. She and her husband walked to the band and I joined them. Didn't expect myself to visit the Sabaton signing session twice, though. While she was taking autographs and her man was taking pictures, I was just standing in front of Thobbe and Hannes, exchanging smiles. They didn't say anything like "You again!?", they seemed pleased to see a fan second time aroung. I raised my camera, and Hannes pointed a finger towards Thobbe's face. I missed catching the moment. "Once more", I asked. They did it once more. Thank them.

No one wanted to join me at Cryonic Temple signing session which took place a bit later. The line was much shorter. I wasn't the first in line but I didn't have to wait for an hour to get my turn. With a camera in my left hand and a train ticket in my right hand, I reached the table. I'm not a big fan of this band, I don't listen to them much, but I sure like thier style. Okay, I hardly remembered their names when walking towards them.

Matthias Lilja, the lead singer, was first in a row. With his short hair and white tee, he didn't look like a metal performer. Whell, I've seen 'strange' looking metalheads in my life, and I'm actually one of them (I'm not a performer, though, just a fan). Their guitarist Markus Grundstrom wasn't looking like a metalhead as well. Okay, back to Matthias. He signed my tichet with one hand and pulled out a CD with another. "Here's our new demo for you", he went, and I asked hime to sign the cover while giving my ticket to Markus. The latter asked me where I was from. Lithuania, I said. "What? Romania?" shouted Micke Dahlkvist the drummer who was sitting fourth, and added a word in Romanian which I didn't understand. I waited for Markus and the other guitarist Esa Ahonen to sign both ticket and cover and stepped forth to Micke. He told me he'd never been to Romania but had visited Moldova once before. He was so excited that I didn't tell him he'd misheard what I'd said. After Roland Westbom signed for me, I rejoined my friends who were perfectly seated on the grass. It was pretty cold, but none of them wanted to go to VIP area where bag chairs were provided. Too bad for me. I found a hole in the fence and sneaked there several times. Joined by no one.

Cryonic Temple were scheduled to play at 22:00, and by that time I almost froze to death. I didn't care much for the other performers. I always knew, the first day would be a Cryonic Temple day for me. Finally, I went to the slam zone for the first time this fest, and it became lots warmer. The band sounded unexpectedly well, and the performance was awesome. Oh they deserved a lot more attention that we gave them. What a pity their show was so short. They played only five songs, but the last one was my favorite, "Eternal Flames of Metal". As soon as the show ended, I tried to round the stage and get to them, but there were fences all around. I watched them pack their gear and made sure they were leaving for good. Well I gave them all the attention I could give. They deserve it. They deserve more time on stage as well.

I started shivering again and went to say good night to my friends who stayed for Raubtier and Orphan Gypsy. I could have listened to them form my tent. The campsite wasn't far away. All I wanted was to pack myself into my thermo clothes and sleeping bag before I get ill. Well, it was a long and good day for me. Visiting skijumping hills and skiing museum, picking blueberries and searching for trolls, chatting with friends and attending two signing sessions, getting a free Cryonic Temple CD and enjoying their gig. Pretty enough.

To be continued...

Falun City at Rock, part 1: The Hills

"Rockstad Falun" is translated as "Rock City Falun". Well, there are lots of rocks everywhere, and also a lot of rock music. Everywhere I went I kept hearing Sabaton's "To Hell and Back". Got enough of it.

Everyday in the morning I was escaping from the festival campsite to the deserted places, like top of skijumping hills, graveyard, riverside or city centre. Falun city centre is pretty calm and quiet, especially on working days. Spending time "Somewhere Alone" is a part of my nature. I try to interract with other people as much as I can but I can't do it too much. In the last days I stopped using the pedestrian roads along the highway and started walking to the city through the graveyard. This way it was more peaceful and took less time.

Nevertheless, "I Came to Rock". Rockstad Falun took three days, from August 13th to 15th, and also a pre-party on 12th. It actually ended on August 16th at 2 a.m., so it lasted from Wednesday to Sunday. Five days of heavy rock. Pretty much. But a lot of free time as well, and a lot of places to visit.

The guy who'd been sitting next to me on the train had recommended me to visit the mining museum. There's a complicated relationship between me and mining museums. I wanted to visit one in Velenje, Slovenia, but never got a chance. Once I applied for a all-around-Slovenia trip which included Velenje, but on the last momnet they went, "There's nothing to see there, we'll take you to Ljubljana". Hello, I've been to Ljubljana lots of times and I've even lived there! Well, I had to go there once more, and I never got an opportunity to visit Velenje on my own. The second mining museum I never visited was in Straetkvern, Norway, right next to my house. I've lived there for two months and I had plenty of time to give it a look, but I never did.

And now the Falun mining museum. On Thursday morning I asked my friends to pick me up on their way there, but the didn't get the message. Well? Attempt #3 has failed as well. Okay, forget it. I had two good reasons to come to Falun, and they are called The Lugnet Hills. I'm a huge skijumping fan and I climb every skijumping hill I see. The most important thing is that the smaller hill still holds the record of 105.0 m, set in 1996 by my biggest skijumping idol, Primoz Peterka. I just had to pay him a respect by visiting that hill. And thanks to my lousy phone operator who fails to deliver text messages on time, I had several hours to explore it.

So I bought a ticket at the Lugnet sport center and headed to the funicular. The walls of the sport center were decorated with portraits of famous athletes, including the most known Swedinsh skijumpier Jan Boklov who invented the V-style back in 1980s. After observing all the pictures, I stepped inside the funicular and pressed the '1' button. It was supposed to take me to the judges' tower, but didn't work. Okay, I hit the '2' button. A few minutes later, I was on the top of the hill, next to those two towers and a small shop. I looked around, took some photos, and entered the large hill tower where the museum was located. It suprised me that none of the rooms looked the same way as on TV screen. Where is the waiting room, for goodness sake?

The exhibition started in a room dedicated to the 1954 and 1974 World Ski Championships held here in Falun. I read the whole stories, took a look at the inventory, and watched a long footage of the competitions which was provided by Swedish television. It's always interesting to watch the old videos of skijumping, even if there are no athletes known to me. Skijumping has changed a lot in all those years. There is no parallel style (thanks again to Jan Boklov), knitted hats and hopping out to inrun anymore, it became safer, more effective and better organized. For me, it was fun to watch the 1974 champion Hans-Georg Aschenbach (the Austrian! I keep saying they're always winning) performing his jump the old-school way. I came back 25 minutes later to re-watch it.

I went to the inrun. The floor was a bit shaky. Well, the jumpers are used to this. I'm not. I've been to the top of the other hills before, but the Lugnet Large was the most impressive. The inrun was covered in ceramics, but the sides of it were made of slippery rubber, and I didn't take a risk stepping on it like the staff does. There was no start bench anywhere, where does it go when it's unused? Well, no answer. Looking down was not scary, but I decided not to walk down the stairs. I returned into the tower and ascended to the room of 2015. Falun is very proud of the recent Championships, and it's not for nothing. After seeing the pictures and reading the inscriptions, I proceeded to the room of handprints. There were handprints of all the Falun World champions of 2015, safe for the Team Norway, champions in skijumping large hill team competition. Or maybe I've missed it. I pressed my hand to the handprints of the other skijumping champions: Carina Fogt, Richard Freitag, Rune Velta and Severin Freund. Then I walked to the TV corner to watch the footage from the champs. I didn't last there for long. The memories were still fresh.

The 1993 room left me unimpressed. I quickly looked around, read the story, pictured the mascot (the eagle owl), paid my respect to the picture of 1993 silver and bronze medalist Andreas Goldberger (I remember him being an active jumper, nowadays he's a skijumping expert and commentator but he hasn't lost his jumping skills, he even jumps from large hills with a TV camera and a microphone), and climbed to the very top of the tower. The views were stunning all aruond. The lakes, the woods, the town, the festival area, the campside (I photographed my tent, haha) and the old skijumpind center (with no facilities remaining) could be easily seen from there.

I went down and left the tower. I clibmed to the top of the smaller tower (which has given an inrun to the Primoz Peterka's record-setting flight) but the way in was locked. I coundn't access the takeoff ramp either. So I walked back to the large hill. There was a metal fence and a sign, telling there's no access to the takeoff ramp and landing zone, but I saw a big hole in the lower part and squeezed through it. In the forbidden area, I looked around, checked out the plastic grass (first time I touch it), climbed the coaches' platform, got to the takeoff ramp and did a selfie on it. Then I went under the inrun and saw how the skijumping tower looked from "inside". Then I squeezed myself back through the fence and peeked at the grill/BBQ house. Why the hell do they need that? Who's making picnics here? Well, there is a hiking/jogging/cycling path next to the hills and some tables near the souvenir shop where you can have a drink, but BBQ? Come on.

Speaking of those tables. A middle-aged Swedish couple was having a coffee at one of them. As I walked by, they asked me if I've taken any pictures at the ramp. They sait they've seen me sneak there, but promiced not to tell anyone. Thanks, I guess.

Souvenir shop was my last place to visit. I gave a thumb pick through all the books and chose the one called "License to Jump!", providing the history of women' skijumping. It featured some of my favorite jumpers as well. The other books available were about the preparation for 2015 World Championships and its process. Next time, I thought. I have room only for one book. I also took a pin, but the seller didn't notice it. So I've got a free Falun pin now, with the silouettes of both towers on it :)

On the funicular, I pressed the '1' again, but it still didn't want to take me to the judges' tower. Okay then, next time I'll go there by foot. But not now. I've spent 3 hours here, and I have to go find something to eat before the festival starts, there's not much time left. I pressed '0'. The funicular slowly took me to the bottom of the hill. I will return in 20 years for the next World Champs, I thought. For sure. And now, metal fest awaits!

To be continued...

Стихия года и фэн-шуй

Когда-то читала про фэн-шуй, так что знаю =)

Узнайте про вашу стихию

A je?

Мне стало интересно, в какой зарубежной литературе упоминается Словения.

Я могу назвать три книги. "Поющие в терновнике" Колин Маккалоу. Даже не Словения, а Югославия: герой проезжает Любляну по пути в Грецию, в погибель свою.

"Историк" Костовой. Автор отдаёт честь полуродной стране. "Не хочу, чтобы этот город наводнили любопытные туристы, поэтому буду называть его Эмона". Я долго ухахатывалась :)

И "Вероника решает умереть". Только сегозня узнала про экранизацию, в которой действие перенесли из Любляны в Нью-Йорк.

Дальше только развести руками и продолжить поиски :)


Back again

Снова захожу сюда, чтобы обозначить некий момент в истории, когда нужно зайти именно сюда, а не в перегруженный дайри, и пролистать опустевшую ленту, в некоторые особые блоги заглянув ещё до ленты и заметив, чтО надо будет прочитать полностью, а не по диагонали, ибо глаза очень устают после бесконечного чтения и телевизора, и главное - кто бы заставлял читать и смотреть, сама ведь всё делаю для собственного удовольствия :)

Удивительно, но у меня тут хуже, чем на Майспейсе, там хотя бы написано в профиле, что мне 21, а не 17, как здесь :) И это при том, что скоро мне 25. Исправила, хотя кому это нужно :)

Я по-прежнему сижу на краю Вильнюса, работаю переводчиком и в свободное время, для себя и нескольких читателей, перевожу словенские статьи о словенских спортсменах. Переводы со словенского мне заказывают очень редко, а работать в этом направлении хочется. К прыжкам с трамплина добавился шоссейный велоспорт и горный сноуборд, и ради некоторых несловенских велогонщиков приходится учить языки, далёкие от словенского, например, испанский. Я ещё не полностью овладела искусством убивания времени ("Время, убитое с удовольствием, не считается убитым", - сказал Джон Леннон), но получать от этого удовольствие вполне научилась :)

Захожу, чтобы подготовить почву для опубликования нескольких постов, которые уже не пойдут на дайри, а то и так слишком много там всего. Собрать воедино всё, что уже давно крутится в голове, а то совершенно разучилась писать. Даже о том, что называю ласковым словом "словень".
Это мне нечего делать, пока я в ожидании заказа сижу. Обещали прислать до обеда, а я уже хочу обедать. Кроме этого заказа, есть масса других, которые нужно сделать до четверга, но я лучше пройду по ссылке на дайри на гадание с котиками, чем буду работать или готовить обед.
Вроде бы ничего в Норвегии не забыла, и самолёт, который привёз меня оттуда, уже давно обратно улетел, и радужное западное побережье только в памяти осталось. Нет, ничего там не забыто, а дальше посмотрим.
Вот и зашёл на жж, чтоб спамеры "заброшенный" блог не засорили =)

Точно. Я уже несколько месяцев учусь чему-то новому, но, может быть, следует сделать что-то СОВСЕМ новое, а не развивать старое? Только что?..