After a summer in which we hammocked under the Perseids and in the salty sea-breeze we packed up our equipment. It was far from us being afraid of the cold weather of the autumn season of course. We actually extended our vacation by three Balkan-style fairytale days and nights, in which we hung from the backbones of the Uranus Garden. In the middle of the gray skeletal streets of Bucharest the garden seems to defy the specific bustle of the city center. We entered into this fair-atmosphere that was born to the rhythms of Rahova and hit-songs in the advertising center of the town, in Piata cu Flori (Flower Market), at Balkanik Festival.
We hung our festive hammocks that harmonized with the kaleidoscopic decorum of clothes and jewelry. Pantilica quickly became friends with the haiducii (“outlaws”), sheltering mustached coffee-lovers in the close proximity of archers and bales. He integrated very easily into the sea of shawls and hats specific to the chromatic scheme of the Balkan spirit. Thinking nostalgically about bygone road-trips and camping through the bowls of the map spread out in front of him, he enjoyed the stories of his guests be them crafts men, circus performers, fortunetellers or kids that were eager to gambol around.
The hammocks met free-spirited people who weren’t afraid to use the colorful swings intensely, as if imitating the swinging motion of the accordions in the background. As guests we’ve had individuals with a bit of a sweet-tooth, who after filling their bellies with cauldron-cooked food were looking for a comfy MinorSwing hammock to doze off in. Others, who were far more experimented with grape must and liquor than with culinary specialties loosened their tongues and lunged into long conversations in the intimacy and shade of the hammocks.
When the energy of the instrumentalists headed from the stage to the audience, the cords hugged the trees and learned their traditional dances, fluttering and swaying in their motion the ornaments and shawls of the girls. We participated in the festival surrounded by colorful carpets and stilts. We were delighted by the soap-bubbles and with seeing old friends of our hammocking activities and we now are ready to plan our itinerary for next year so as to gracefully slide on the fields of time.
Text: Carla Schoppel
Foto: Silviu Ghetie