Outfit of the Day: blue Burberry swim pants; trench colored Burberry polo shirt with classic house check collar; black Guess Jeans; black vintage Gucci sunglasses and classic house checked hight-top Burberry sneakers again accompanied by the beige colored bag I bought at the market in Zagreb.
Change of an Outfit for the Evening: black big checked Burberry shirt; trench colored Burberry Trousers; classic bow tie from my childhood (yes, this bow tie really is about 17 years old!) and black shiny Burberry shoes accompanied by my Petar Petrov silk evening jacket and vintage Longchamp bag.
Breakfast not at Tiffany’s but on our very own terrace. Since my sister decided to stay awake with three others until 6.30am we were the only one having breakfast together. Thank Burberry she doesn’t need that much of sleep because of sleeping through the days before. After half an hour of eating and enjoying the sun we diced that again the motto of the day has to be: ‘Summer, sun, beach read and Burberry.’ And me in the middle lying there with a perfect tan which seems to be a mixture of shiny red and most beautiful brown.
Thoughts by the sea: ‘I sit here with my book on a stone in the middle of the sea. It is so cold that it is quite hard to keep my feet in it longer that a few seconds. Usually I am quite tough but it is relatively hard today. Maybe because I was lying in the sun for about two hours heating up my body. That makes it ten times worse. So I just sit here with my summer read ‘Summer and the City: A Carrie Diaries Novel’ by Candace Bushnell and think about how life could be in New York City and if my dreams of being a famous writer will ever come to life. You never know. I never know. I can’t know. Right now I doubt a lot. I am doubting myself 24 hours a day. I can’t stop it. I can’t stop myself from doubting myself and now I sit here wondering why the hell I am not where I should be at the age of 25. Well, should I be here at the age of 25? Or, who decides where I should be? Are my goals set too high or am I becoming a failure? I am afraid of becoming a failure. Really, really afraid. How can I stop it?’
The day was quite calming and relaxing with a bit of lying in the sun, a bit of eating ice, a bit of cooking and a bit of walking through the city of Klenovica discovering a view secrets in a ruined hotel. To be honest, we had to climb over a fence which was quite hard wearing my trench colored Burberry Jeans and my black shiny shoes but I did it anyway because my thirst for adventure was too big to hold back. I was so impressed by the charm and image of the hotel that I have decided to dedicate a bigger entry to this wonderful picture after a bit of research.
While being in this ruined house I was wondering about its history and at the same time about my own history and how it could be compared to some rooms of this historic building. Walking through the rooms, along the narrow spaces that once where from what I imagine it sparkling hall ways I felt as if I somehow belonged there; as if something was touching me. Maybe that is the reason why I feel the necessity of researching more about the history of the building and about what happened to the people inside it. Did they come out alive? Did they die? It is weird but I could almost feel them screaming while running for their lives in the war. And that is what it looks like. Destroyed by war. Clearly. Undeniably. Irrevocably. But I guess I should wait with suspicions and impressions like these until I know way more about the history. It was obvious that the country still had to recover from all the terror going on between the years of 1991 and 1995 and one could feel that there still was a lot going on in dealing with what happened to the country and to the families living in it. Life marked them in a way they can never forget.
R, Speedfreak, Markus and I decided to hide a secret message that I wrote to the four of us. I hid it in a very special and secret place not to be found by anyone else except for ourselves in one year. This message will be a very inspirational thing for me because even if we do not return in one year I know one thing – we were there in Klenovica. Together. And we shared a few days of summer and of our youth where we were free, happy and full of energy. I will relish this special day and this special message that only I know for I wrote it and let no one read it. So it marks me, and accompanies me on my ways to wherever I go knowing that friendship can be found wherever the heart is and wherever people are honest with one another.
Right now I am just covered in a black Guess Jeans and a cashmere Tommy Hilfiger sleeve drinking a glass of white wine while chatting with the guys I came here. Eight other people. 4 Women. 5 Men. Everyone for himself / herself great in a very special way. And of course the three people I shared a house with. There is my sister who is my number one; maybe even my closest friend besides K. Maybe even the only friend whom I will keep for the rest of my life. Maybe even the only one I feel the necessity of, come what may, live and breathe and fight for. Then there is Speedfreak, someone I think of as being truly intelligent and made for something incredibly special but whom still has to find his place in this world. With Speedfreak comes Markus – his boyfriend. One of the kindest, most decent and most modest people I have ever met and for whom I have the greatest respect for being simply honest and down to earth. Three people I had a lot of fun with BUT still I want to say thank you to all eight of them for having the nerve to have me around all the time. I really enjoyed the time with each and every one of you and believe me – you all are great, special and intelligent and I appreciated the time we spent together.
For now, I have to say goodbye because I have to pay my attention to the crowd sitting in this room with me. We have some things to talk about, to discuss and to remember. So farewell, my dear reader and we’ll see each other for the season 2 finale of ‘The Diary of the Traveling Burberry.’
P.S.: All pictures taken by Speedfreak.