Eternal summer – Večno poletje

Summer travelled with us towards South. Our hair is still curly and even though it’s October we still have summer in our pocket. Indian summer. I wish it’s sun would never set. We like to keep company to the sand and it’s nudity, especially now, when there aren’t so many people on the beaches anymore. In the morning we wrap ourselves in a gentle blanket.

Poletje je z nama potovalo proti jugu. Najini lasje ostajajo skodrani in oktobra je poletje še vedno v najinem žepu. Indijansko poletje. Želim si, da njegovo sonce ne bi nikoli zašlo. Rada se druživa s peščeno goloto, sploh zdaj, ko na plažah ni več toliko ljudi. Zjutraj se ovijeva v nežno odejo.





One of the loveliest things was to reunite with Jaione, a girl who we met in Slovenia on a circus exchange in July. During the summer she lives in a trailer in Laida where she works to save for a cycling trip. Let’s not mention she is an astonishing person.


She shared her home with us and took great care for us to feel in peace after some time. Especially I was not so cheerful and struggled with the sence of being at this time at this place, consequently being guilty about all the downers. I knew this was about to happen. Probably becasue I was already exhausted when we left. This place was the beginning of realizing we really are on the way. Sometimes topless, sometimes fully dressed, sometimes naked.


But the sea in front of us is always broad. Good to see that.



Waiting for the waves to come. Pretending that we are waiting for the surfers’ ones. In the meantime Jaione was running around with the camera taking pictures and doing cartwheels. Energy in person.







After a month of being outside constantly the difference between human and fish becomes more obvious.


Having lunch with the toilet. It was a whole lotta summer meal finishing with Jaione’s brother arriving on a motorbike to invite us go climbing. There were always friends around and something going on. Different to our constant dual in which we became, like Slovenians would say, “ass and shirt”. Uroš is shouting: “I am the ass!”



~ “Summer, you old Indian summer. You’re the tear that comes after June-times laughter. You see so many dreams that don’t come true. Dreams we fashioned when summertime was new” -Tony Bennett 




Text: Eva

Photo: Uroš, Jaione and Eva