Torun = rooi kol.
Dit was 'n lang dag op die KLR. Reen. Wind. My kaart verloor. Nog 'n stad verskyn voor my. In my kom reeds die gevoel van sukkel. Sukkel om borde te vind in snaakse tale. Sukkel om op die regte pad te bly.
Die stad se naam is Torun.
Torun word vir my toe die mooiste onder die mooi wat ek al gesien het.
Net voor die stad steek die son skielik sy kop uit en verlig die stad in die mooiste geel.
Die ou blokwoonstelgeboue uit die kommunistiese tyd staan soos piramides voor my, maar hulle is nie lelik nie. Al die geboue is in die mooiste kleure geverf. Skielik lyk selfs dit vir my mooi.
Die pad in stad toe is breed. En daar is min motors. Dit voel sommer of mens in gly in die stad in, sonder moeite.
Toe kom die mooiste groot rivier met spanbrue oor, die Vistula. Die vroegaandson gee aan die water die kleur van vrede. Watter kleur is vrede? Vir my was dit goud-bruin-blou-groen, die water van die Vistula.
Die pad vat my nog 'n paar draaie deur die stad. Ou geboue. Mooi geboue. 'n Oustad-gedeelte wat uitnooi om te stop. Hotelle, modern en oud, iets vir elke smaak.
In die oustad-gedeelte (medieval old town, as my Afrikaans snaaks klink) is Kopernikus gebore. Dit is ook gelys op Unesco se Wereld Erfenis Lys (kappie op e)
Ek kom by 'n groot sirkel, ry tweekeer om die sirkel, nie omdat ek pad soek nie maar om die 360 grade panorama te geniet.
Ek stop 'n paar keer vir 'n foto. Deur die lens kry ek nie die gevoel van die laatmiddagson, outydse grasie en die wonderlike argitektuur nie. Ek sit finaal die kamera weg sonder om een foto te neem. Dit is eerder tyd vir kopfoto's.
Toe ek daar wegry, voel ek vergenoegd, tevrede. Hoe beskryf mens die skoonheid van 'n vrou? Jy kan nie. Vir die volgende een mag sy minder mooi wees.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Ek het Torun op my lys gesit van plekke wat ek weer sal wil besoek, soos St. Petersburg en die Amber Room.
Torun, the most beautiful of all.
I am making myself guilty of subjectivity. It is probably human.
It was a long day on the KLR. Rain. Wind. I lost my map. As another city appeared before me, a feeling of unease settled in me. I had trouble finding direction on signboards in strange languages. I had trouble staying on the correct road.
The city’s name is Torun.
Torun then became the most beautiful of all the places that I have seen.
Just before I entered the city, the sun came up and lit up the city in the most beautiful yellow.
The old blocks of flat dating back to the Communistic era, stood like the pyramids in front of me, but they were not ugly. Al the buildings were painted in the most beautiful colours. Suddenly, even that looked beautiful to me.
The road leading into the city was broad. And there were very few cars. It almost felt like a person was gliding effortlessly into the city.
Then, the most beautiful river with bridges over appeared before me, the Vistula. The early evening sun gave the water the colour of peace. What is the colour of peace? For me it was the gold-brown-blue-green, the water of the Vistula.
The dwindling road took me through the city. Old buildings. Beautiful buildings. A medieval part of town that invited one to stop. Hotels, modern and old, something for everyone. Copernicus was born in the medieval part of town. It is also listed on the Unesco World Heritage List.
I then arrived at a large circle, drove around it twice, not because I was searching for a road, but to enjoy the 360 degree panoramic view.
I stopped a couple of times for photos. But through the lens I couldn’t capture the feeling of the late afternoon sun, old time grace and the wonderful architecture. I finally put away the camera without taking a photo. It was rather time to take headphotos.
When I drove of, I felt content, satisfied. How does one describe the beauty of a woman? You can’t. For the next one she might be less beautiful.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I have put Torun on my list of places to revisit, like St. Petersburg and the Amber Room.
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