M. said that should there have been any turbulences when the plane took off or landed, he wouldn't go travelling with me anymore. Over Odessa our Embraer was tossed about like a car on the Ukrainian rural roads, but it was still nothing compared with the blizzard in the middle of the Caucasian night when we landed in Tbilisi. So when I said I was still thinking about joining Ant. and him in their travel to Croatia, he seemed enthusiastic. But it looks like my first attempt to have a planned sensible life which will probably be in September, will not include another jaunt for which I have positively no money. It seems that's how one should travel, though. No money, no plans, no sense of belonging. No anchors. An open mind. Anything can happen.
In Odessa, we were free. Or at least that's what we thought. But then, what's the difference. – That's how Stasiuk wrote about his life in Grochów.
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