Oh, I see! moments
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So Far, So Fab, Sofia!

by Joyce McGreevy on September 6, 2016

Alexander Nevsky Memorial Church is one of the most popular sights in Sofia, Bulgaria. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Russian-inspired and relatively new (1924), Alexander Nevsky Memorial
Church has become the most recognized landmark in Sofia.
© Joyce McGreevy

Wanderlust Leads to Sofia

If you visit Sofia, Bulgaria, prepare for the inevitable response.

“Bulgaria? Bul-GAR-ia? Where IS Bulgaria, exactly?”

The only European country never to change its name, Bulgaria is in the Southeastern European peninsula known as the Balkans.

Balkan means “a chain of wooded mountains,” and Bulgaria epitomizes this. One-third forested and teeming in biodiversity, Bulgaria borders the Black Sea to the east, Romania to the north, Serbia and Macedonia to the west, and Greece and Turkey to the south.

“Why Bulgaria?”  This could take a while, given the rich culture, thoughtful people, affordable prices, fabulous food, excellent public transportation, and natural wonders.

Seven Rila Lakes in Rila Mountain, south of Sofia, inspire wanderlust to visit Bulgaria. Image by Filip Stoyanov

South of Sofia, Rila’s glacial lakes mirror the sky 6,000-8,000 feet above sea level.
“Seven Rila Lakes in Rila Mountain” by Filip Stoyanov is licensed under CC BY 4.0

Collage of Cultures

Start with mind-blowing history. Bulgaria is a collage of ancient cultures: Greek, Roman, Slav, Bulgar and, above all, Thracian. Orpheus the musician was Thracian. So was Spartacus the warrior.

In 342 A.D., when Sofia was called Serdica, Alexander the Great’s father loved it so much that he declared, “Serdica is my Rome.” By the 1200s, the Bulgarian Empire was the dominant power in Balkan Europe.

Then came conquest by the Ottoman Empire, re-emergence as an independent state, and the post-WWII years under Soviet Communism.

Ancient ruins amid a modern cityscape are one more reason people with wanderlust visit Sofia, Bulgaria. Image © Joyce McGreevy

A single view encompasses ancient Roman ruins, Byzantine churches,
Ottoman mosques, and signs of post-Communist commerce.
© Joyce McGreevy

In 1989, the Berlin Wall fell and so did the Eastern Bloc. Westerners may be surprised to learn that the transition to parliamentary democracy was far from celebratory. Shortages, crime, and uncertainty hurt living standards until the mid-2000s.

Bulgaria’s admission to the European Union in 2007 and ongoing reforms have been welcomed. If the performance of some post-Soviet governments have proved unsatisfactory, today’s Bulgarians are free to protest.

One urbanite installed on his balcony a giant sculpture of a hand pointing a certain finger toward the National Assembly. That’s a universe away from when the mildest political joke could lead to arrest, or worse.

Party House, the former Communist Headquarters in Sofia, Bulgaria are now scenic details for tourists with wanderlust. Image © Joyce McGreevy

The imposing former Communist HQ, now an archive, brought new meaning to “Party House.”
After 1989, the giant red star was removed by helicopter and replaced with the Bulgarian flag.
© Joyce McGreevy

Likewise, the post-1989 diaspora, which saw 1 million Bulgarians emigrate, has slowed. Bulgarians who travel abroad (565,000 in 2015) now have more reasons than ever to return.

College is free, the tech industry is thriving, and creative small businesses are on the rise. According to Eurostat, unemployment in Bulgaria is steadily decreasing, from 9.8 to 7.4 percent in the last year.

Ancient and Eternally New

Remember this if wanderlust inspires you to visit Sofia, Bulgaria: Cities are works in progress. Initial views from the airport taxi are dismaying—peeling stucco, exclamatory graffiti, the skeletons of Communist-built apartment blocks.

But here, too, are signs of restoration, renewal, and reinvention.

Vibrant murals and leafy green public gardens. Dazzling Orthodox church interiors, honey-colored mosques, and Art Nouveau synagogues. Street music and courtyard cafés. Grape arbors and roses encasing wrought-iron balconies. Markets where tomatoes actually taste like tomatoes.

Murals created by locals will delight you if wanderlust leads you to visit Sofia, Bulgaria. Image © Joyce McGreevy

From metal gates to utility boxes, any surface can be a canvas for Sofia’s muralists.
© Joyce McGreevy

It’s like hearing the melody line within a layered jazz composition. Once you perceive Sofia’s beauty, it surges to the forefront.

Sofia disproves the notion that you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

It sets crumbling sidewalks at your feet and raises golden domes over your head. It begins interactions with solemn expressions, then breaks into smiles. It sends dishes out of kitchens slowly, the better to create unforgettable feasts. It surrounds you in a maze of streets, then makes it a pleasure to wander.

Ulitsa Karnigradska is one of the charming streets that inspires wanderlust to visit Sofia, Bulgaria. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Sofia boasts the longest boulevard in Europe–but don’t miss the charming side streets.
© Joyce McGreevy

In Bulgaria, even brusqueness isn’t always what it seems. On a rural day-trip I asked about buses back to Sofia. Suddenly, station personnel barked commands and practically carried me onboard. Sheesh.

Turns out the last bus of the day was about to depart and they were making sure I didn’t get stranded. It became one more reason to say Mnogo blagodarya, “Thank you so much!”

Perhaps the best way to be in Bulgaria is to find your “aylak.” That’s a Turkish word Bulgarians use as slang for going with the flow.

At Zoya on Aksakov Street, people with wanderlust to visit Sofia, Bulgaria find organic, vegan, and gluten-free fare. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Zoya Organic led Sofia’s trend toward grocery-cafés that offer vegan and gluten-free menus.
© Joyce McGreevy

Beyond “Fascinating Facts”

Travel blogs about Bulgaria are replete with “fascinating facts”: Bulgarians nod for no and shake heads for yes. Sofia has an actual yellow brick road. “OMG, Bulgarians play the bagpipes!”

Go beyond factoids and learn from locals. Sofia’s walking tours are among the world’s best and cover everything from arts and culture, traditional and contemporary dining, nature hikes, and even a candid history of Communism. (The latter stops at a leading North American coffee chain.)

Fun and sociable, the tours are also in-depth. Most are free. Tipping is good manners, but you won’t be pressured.

The benefits go beyond photo ops. Consider the perspective of Martin Zashev, whose nonprofit association has welcomed visitors to Bulgaria from more than 125 countries: “We believe in a world to know, to understand, and to improve. When people know each other—their cultural and historical backgrounds—they understand each other. And when you understand each other, you don’t fight.”

 

Martin Zashev, a guide for Free Sofia Tour shares a wealth of knowledge with all who visit Sofia, Bulgaria. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Personable guides like Martin Zashev of Free Sofia Tour and Hristina Bareva of Balkan Bites (below)
offer insights that you won’t find in any guidebook. 
both images © Joyce McGreevy

Hristina Bareva, a guide for Balkan Bites enlightens all who visit Sofia, Bulgaria about its eclectic cuisines. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Sofia Moments

Many who visit Sofia consider it a stopover to Black Sea beach resorts. That’s a pity. Stay a while, and along with architectural treasures, you’ll experience moments that become great memories.

Summer evenings when the air smells of rose oil and grilled red peppers. Filling a bottle with cold, refreshing water from an ornate fountain. Seeing the full moon illuminate Mount Vitosha.

My Sofia moment happened at a café near my Airbnb apartment. When I bused my own table the counterman looked surprised. Had I committed a gaffe?

“You’re becoming Bulgarian,” he said. Then smiled.

I’ll take that over a beach selfie any day. Oh, I see: When you visit Sofia, Bulgaria, wanderlust leads to lingering.

Flowers on a balcony delight those whose wanderlust inspires them to visit Sofia, Bulgaria. Image © Joyce McGreevy

May Sofia flourish!
© Joyce McGreevy

Explore Free Sofia Tour and Balkan Bites.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Wordplay: Wit and Wisdom in Public Spaces

by Joyce McGreevy on August 16, 2016

A hair salon in Glasgow, Scotland typifies the wit and wordplay of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Hair-salon puns, like this one in Glasgow, Scotland, are permanent highlights of signage.
© Joyce McGreevy

Reading the Language of Signs Worldwide

Maybe it’s a sign, you think. You mean that literally. It’s Day 1 in Sofia, Bulgaria, and you’re staring at a wall of words that may signify the name of the street. Or a local ordinance. Or the route to Romania.

You know this much: it’s definitely in Cyrillic. Suddenly, you’re back in the pre-literacy of early childhood, experiencing the world as a dense forest of language whose mysteries you’re not yet able to penetrate.

Oh, I see: Signs are an indispensable element of our public spaces.

Showing Obvious Signs

Some signs require no language at all to make their messages clear. Glasgow University uses creative visuals to dish up directions to the student dining hall.

A sign for Glasgow University's student dining hall shows the wit of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

At Glasgow University, wordless signage offers a running commentary.
© Joyce McGreevy

Some wordless signs are obvious. Very, very obvious. At one of Glasgow’s most popular attractions, The Lighthouse, this sign helps get visitors where they, ah,  need to go.

A sign at The Lighthouse, Glasgow, Scotland shows how wordless signage complements wordplay signage in public spaces.Image © Joyce McGreevy

This is not the universal symbol for a Scottish jig.
© Joyce McGreevy

Adorable  Doors

Other signs are Austen-tacious. Planning to visit the city of Bath, England? Simply trust your own sense and sensibility when choosing a loo.

A sign at the Jane Austen Centre, Bath, England, reflects the wit and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

“She had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.”

A Mr Darcy sign at the Jane Austen Centre, Bath, England, reflects the wit, wisdom, and wordplay of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

“I’d say this qualifies.” 
© both images by Joyce McGreevy

Please Do Not Read This Sign

Some signs get right to the point. They are down-to-earth so you won’t end up down-to-earth in the worst possible way. Still, getting close enough to read this warning in Co. Clare, Ireland, could defeat the purpose.

A danger sign in Lahinch, Ireland lends drama to the wit and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

An edgy danger sign high above Lahinch, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

After all, isn’t the whole point of such signs to keep you from getting to this point?

A rollercoaster sign in Iowa reflects the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Pat Hawks

A rollercoaster sign in Iowa generates “Likes” from some, “Yikes!” from others.
The Point of No Return” by Pat Hawks is licensed under CC BY 4.0.

What’s Your Mirth Sign?

Some shop window signs are all about the jokes. Like the bakery chalkboard that asks, “Pilates? Don’t you mean pie and lattes?” Or the marquee  that drily declares “If it’s in stock, we have it!”

Or this deli sign call-to-action: “Ban pre-shredded cheese. Make America grate again!”

Shop window signage in Ireland reflects wordplay, wit, and wisdom. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Truth in advertising . . .
© Joyce McGreevy

Shop window signage for beer in Ireland typifies the wordplay, wit, and wisdom to be found in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

. . . Irish style.
© Joyce McGreevy

 

Uniquely British Signs

In London, the very quest for precision can lead to confusion. For instance, in the Underground, Way Out doesn’t mean “Exit,” but the path toward the exit.

One day I watched as a small group of people stood around a trash can attempting to decode the label, Residual Waste Only.

“Isn’t all waste, by definition, residual?” inquired one.

“Indeed, but this bin is for waste that’s left over after one has sorted out all the other waste,” clarified another.

“Ah, so it’s truly residual,” averred a third.

“Precisely.”

I can hardly wait to see the dramatization on BBC.

My favorite British signs are often snarky. This one puts a different spin on being calm and “carrying on.”

A sign in London about the Little Book of Calm shows the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

It’s a hardback life.
© Joyce McGreevy

Signs of the Times

Some signs shed light on old sayings. At Senglea Harbor, Malta, benches are labeled with sailors’ proverbs, some in English, some in Maltese.

A sailors' proverb on a bench in Senglea, Malta typifies the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

A bench in Malta sums up my affection for the town of Senglea.
© Joyce McGreevy

A view of the Mediterranean Sea is en route to Malta, where signage reflects wordplay, wit and wisdom in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

What, no For Sail sign? En route to Malta.
© Joyce McGreevy

Signs to Bookmark

Some literary signs invite us to go by the book. In Dublin, Ireland, well-trodden pavement plaques let you follow in the path of the fictional Leopold Bloom from James Joyce’s Ulysses. Now that’s a footnote.

A pavement sign in Dublin, Ireland commemorating James Joyce's Ulysses reflects the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

A street-smart sign in Dublin, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

In Paris, signage, like everything else, becomes art. Fellow OIC Moments blogger Meredith Mullins discovered a creative French take on literature  in the Palais Royal gardens.

Artist Michel Goulet has transformed castoff iron chairs into sites for relaxation and versification. Engraved with lines of poetry, the chairs feature ports that let you plug in your earbuds and listen as famous French actors read aloud the complete poem.

In short, why settle for la vie en prose?

A poetry chair created by Michel Goulet for the Palais Royal gardens, Paris, honors Emily Dickinson and shows the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Meredith Mullins

“How good — to be Alive!/ How infinite — to be.”
© Meredith Mullins

A poetry chair by Michel Goulet at the Palais Royal, Paris honors Guillaume Apollinaire and reflects the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Meredith Mullins

“Let night come on bells end the day/ The days go by me still I stay.”
(Translation, poet Richard Wilbur)
© Meredith Mullins

Good Signs

Some signs inspire us to do good. At the Hammer Museum, Los Angeles, a sign for an exhibition by New York-based artist Jim Hodges invites literal and figurative reflection.

A sign at the Hammer Museum, Los Angeles reflects the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

In Los Angeles, simple words herald a big idea.
© Joyce McGreevy

Signs on the walls of Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, Glasgow offer fresh perspective on vision itself.

A quotation on the wall of Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, Glasgow, Scotland reflects the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Pissarro’s “Oh, I see” moment, on view in Glasgow.
© Joyce McGreevy

Signs of Life

Finally, some signs are simply for the birds! Protecting a nest egg is second nature to the denizens of Glebe Gardens in Baltimore, Ireland.

A handmade sign on a mailbox in Baltimore, Ireland, shows the wordplay, wit, and wisdom of signage in public spaces. Image © Joyce McGreevy

A mailbox turns birdhouse for a special delivery.
© Joyce McGreevy

 

So what’s your (favorite) sign? Where have you found wit and wisdom in public spaces?

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

Decluttering to Become a Digital Nomad

by Joyce McGreevy on July 5, 2016

 A living room filled with banker boxes in the midst of decluttering by an owner who is becoming a digital nomad. Image © Joyce McGreevy

I downsized from two bedrooms and countless books to one suitcase and a carry-on.
© Joyce McGreevy

Minimalism and the Art of Travel

It was my travel posters that made me hesitate. For years, I’d decluttered my condo with the passion of Michelangelo releasing sculpture from stone.  Then last year, decluttering took on new purpose: I wanted to become a digital nomad.

But those posters anchored me. So I took a break from filling bankers boxes to contemplate the art of travel.

Toddler at Large

Joyce McGreevy, who is now decluttering to become a digital nomad, with Wallace McGreevy on a TWA flight in 1958. Image @ McGreevy Family collection.

Dad savors a rare moment when I am sitting still, as Mom takes a snapshot.
© McGreevy Family collection

I’ve been a happy wanderer since age two. That January, I wriggled out of my snowsuit, ran naked into our New York garden, and scaled a redwood fence.

What on EARTH are you doing? my mother shrieked as she bundled me back inside. Apparently, I answered in a tone that implied Good God, Madame, isn’t it obvious?

“I’m singing to the snowflakes.”

I loved being outdoors and on the move. When I turned three, my family moved to California. Convinced that my new cowgirl outfit gave me license to roam the Wild West, I set off across the fields one dawn. The Law, a.k.a. my long-suffering parents, quickly caught up with me.

At age four, I crossed the border into Canada, fortunately with parents in tow.

When Freelancers Go Free-Range

Over time, travel made possible my happiest life experiences, from the birth of my son in Ireland to a meeting with Samuel Beckett in Paris. Best of all, travel taught me to feel at home almost anywhere.

This year I am embracing that free-range sense of home.

After minimizing household contents by 95 percent, I sold the house. Then I called my adult son and informed him that his mom had become a vagabond.

Exterior of So's Your Mom, a deli in Washington, D.C., one more reason for decluttering to become a digital nomad. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Being free to travel while working adds variety to lunch breaks, I discovered in Washington, D.C.
© Joyce McGreevy

Eoghan seemed to think this perfectly normal.

Then again, he had just returned to Los Angeles from a research trip to Tunisia and was heading to North Carolina the following day.

Now as I zip up essentials into one medium suitcase, allow me to “unpack” a few concepts.  Like minimalism. And nomad. And What on EARTH are you doing?

Minimalism Isn’t About “Containerizing”

Nor is it about living with bare walls and one potted orchid. It’s about tending whatever you most value and clearing away whatever distracts you from it.

Document shredding/e-waste Roundup in California, a reminder that decluttering is key to becoming a digital nomad. Image by Joshua Barash is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Most communities host free events to help you declutter a wide range of household items.
Document Shredding/E-waste Roundup” by Joshua Barash is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Thus a fridge covered in your kids’ drawings is not automatically cluttered. By contrast, one item too many—an “investment” outfit you never wear, a gadget that doesn’t work, that pile of papers you always step around—is definitely clutter.

Why? Because it literally and metaphorically blocks your way.

Just ask Joshua Becker, author of The More of Less: Finding the Life You Love Under Everything You Own (WaterBrook, 2016). Spring-cleaning his garage triggered a life-changing decision. Three hours into thankless labor, he was no closer to getting time to play with his 5-year-old son.

Then a neighbor said something that sparked an idea: “Maybe you don’t need to own all this stuff.”

Joshua Becker, author of The More of Less (WaterBrook, 2016), the essential guide to decluttering, even if you're not a digital nomad. Image @ Joshua Becker/Becoming Minimalist

“Fill your life with experiences, not things,” says author
Joshua Becker. “Have stories to tell, not stuff to show.”
© Joshua Becker/ Becoming Minimalist

Becker’s family began donating, recycling, and removing whatever subtracted value from their lives. As he researched minimalism, Becker learned that the average American home contains 300,000 items.

Today Becker presents online classes and commentary on owning less and living more. I took those lessons to heart–and to the airport.

The Moveable Office

Meanwhile, my wish to own less and travel more led me to become a digital nomad. Another term for this is location-independent professional. According to Global Workplace Analytics, 50% of the U.S. workforce holds a job that’s at least partly compatible with telecommuting.

A conservatory in West Cork, Ireland becomes an office for a digital nomad. Image © by Joyce McGreevy

An online conference call in West Cork, Ireland connects business team members
from London to Los Angeles.
© Joyce McGreevy

In the digital economy, going to work needn’t mean being tethered to a fixed location. Last year, for example, I was based in Chicago, but met my winter deadlines from islands in the Mediterranean and while visiting family Out West.

Global Localism

What’s the difference between location independence and other travel? Plenty. Instead of frequenting hotels and restaurants, you rent a modest home and shop at farmers’ markets.

Gold ornamentation on St. John's Co-Cathedral, Valletta, Malta, a rich, visual reward for decluttering to become a digital nomad. Image © Joyce McGreevy

The income of a digital nomad is typically modest, but the benefits are pure gold.
St. John’s Co-Cathedral, Valletta, Malta
© Joyce McGreevy

You carry a mobile hotspot, not souvenirs, and develop a fondness for hand-washable black separates. You meet the neighbors, learn the language, and explore local arts and culture.

Yes, working full time while traveling takes discipline—especially during “the festival.” And there’s always a festival.

It’s 9-5 Somewhere

View from a table at Charles Grech Café in Valletta, Malta, one more reason for decluttering to become a digital nomad. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Morning coffee break in Malta
© Joyce McGreevy

Ah, but even the busiest days  end in celebration. You close the laptop, disable the wifi on your cellphone, and give thanks for where you live.

You cross the Galata Bridge in Istanbul as minarets glow in the sunset. Wander a wild garden in Ireland.  Listen to birdsong as you hang laundry on a balcony in Malta.

You meet a friend for tea in Bloomsbury, or Ann Arbor, or Sydney, or wherever your small, uncluttered home happens to be.

Last of the Packing

Remember those posters  I hesitated to let go of? Ultimately, they triggered an “Oh, I see” moment: I could stay at home and have my travel posters—or I could have the travel.

So I began to declutter and became a digital nomad. As time goes by, I hope you’ll travel with me and my fellow writers at OIC Moments. How have your own travels made you feel more at home in the world?

Calligraphy by a friend is photographed as part of decluttering to become a digital nomad. Image @ Joyce McGreevy/Jules Larkin

Some keepsakes can be digitized.
© Jules Larkin/ Joyce McGreevy

Find out more about Becoming Minimalist here.

Learn about responsible decluttering in your community here

Comment on this post below. 

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