Jos Graf asked:


Here, on the Western côte, the salt of lava avisé régulièrement against the sea of greenery. à ‰ cologisation and l& #39; éthérique expansion to prévaloir, germination, Holling the flora développe and reproduces, s& #39; enracine in crescendo constant. Here, none can détourner, because all the directions are exposés. And null cannot hold in échec the force wheeling which lève, not more than l& #39; amplitude of the marées of l& #39; océan can cease its breathing without end. & lt; br/& WP; à € ground, like l& #39; Outgoing Ã… “ it and the cÃ… “ ur rassasié croître on splendour, and to turn à l& #39; intA©rior to look at à through the forêt of soulhood, the applicant meets gusts of wind, gémissant unceasingly in sound, blowing silence against all the forces of connection, the service of wind-in-connects songs à a public wild and vigilant. & lt; br/& WP; & lt; Br/& WP; In this domination côtières one finds a range d& #39; inhabitants in habitat, the kinglet of diminutive, mouse, birds, in its forêt of fougères sling, jusqu& #39; à compete with of old man géants of the growth of the trees, which, in this océan-environmental of point, have évolué of powerful forces d& #39; rooting for résister with the high winds which règnent à through water. & lt; br/& WP; In the lumière of the morning, the sea forces me à to open my wings above marée à dish of the vision. The day, I will sing you a tree. I will dance to you a brook. And when the evening fall, I go ORATE for you a sunset, of voluble heat and color in distance measurements. & lt; br/& WP; A bird mA©lodic small déploie its wings by the remainders d& #39; algae of the mascaret. sérénade bunting singer, the phrasé suave in l& #39; saline air, is drawn up like one of the favourites green dividing into sheets mélodie under Usnea, madly bearded lichens drapées on the course infA©rior of branches of conifèrés. & lt; br/& WP; And I walk slowly, posément, à through the forêt of seaside, oà ¹ the mice flies Wren furtive, à pains felt, à a under-history of the fougère and salal, à through a history, attractive and complex. & lt; br/& WP; & lt; Br/& WP; Here, nature déploie its large-mère chief-d& #39; Ã… “ uvre Genèse by the edge of the riffles, on the sea surface of l& #39; attribution. nature large-mère, in a spirit of prospérité and layers of weaving, is useful in place d& #39; an author écrit à l& #39; ink of junction and l& #39; in-depth rooting provision. & lt; br/& WP; And late in the night, à the enthusiastic sea même, but low in l& #39; other, well with-delà gate calms sunset in Dreamtime animals, the howls of the wolves bores the veils of primordia aménagé of such kind of l& #39; man knowing with the barks. & lt; br/& WP; During nine years, they waited, covering puppy-cap for aînés, à through d& #39; the innumerable moons alpha. And then, like the calendar of l& #39; inspiration came à the wheel in a complete circle, désormais under the rain of the night, the créativité wolf strength né détient are not outstanding. & lt; br/& WP; maintaining the howls sings in l& #39; agitation of the cross-pieces, in spaces d& #39; éveil. through the sea of the liberté and l& #39; imagination the pack of wolves launches its résonance of guérison, of sounds forming in a vessel which sails on the tumult d& #39; à catches  the surface of the ground savages and less étang. & lt; br/& WP; & lt; br/& WP; The moon stimulates l& #39; éveil of our animal nature. C& #39; is why, so often at the time of full moon, l& #39; insomnia is provoquée in these sensitive à l& #39; influence l& #39; environment. à l& #39; intA©rior of the psyché, the moon à to raise qualités proper à this landscape côtier – rooting, tentacular, rain, infiltration, dripping, of l& #39; climbing of the waves on the waves, tête of overhead travelling crane à through l& #39; âme. … & lt; br/& WP; I am amené (by me) for être functional and/or créative. However, in this moment I am more in the need for centering me-même. Indeed, to ask à my heart deeper for the direction. Qu& #39; this is I am désireux of s& #39; to engage, in this moment, of my center? & lt; br/& WP; By seeing me, then, aligning à l& #39; impulse of cÃ… “ ur, à each turn, while passing by the voice intérieure, is the même like candidate à to fill my incarnation – or, in other words, me-même armé knight with the Drunk service of Lady. & lt; br/& WP; Meanwhile, drops some by the base d& #39; one géant old fir trees of growth, oà ¹ attentive patience prête passage à through a gate underground, d& #39; rooting takes place, corrosive in the ground counterpart of the forces of the human volonté. Food of need for l& #39; âme to hold good face à l& #39; étendue, l& #39; tree of large-parental fredonne its firm tone, without never céder à the dissolution of the common world. & lt; Br/& WP; & lt; br/& WP; Within this framework, the milding of the product of tempérament à a rate/rhythm régulier. & lt; br/& WP; Here l& #39; True occident. & lt; br/& WP; And in this place à l& #39; west, grounds of ground (physicalité) réunit the vast domain of the métaphore Spirit (l& #39; water). & lt; br/& WP; So l& #39; Occident as a préside a certain threshold. & lt; br/& WP; eyes, glance intA©rior, here, on l& #39; extrémité Incarnation of the voyage. Après its arrivée here, à this réunion métaphysique-ground of the sea and the shore, one can be turned and to explore is one of North, the South or the way. Or l& #39; one can fully turn, to l& #39; is and Wend a manière in arrière, régresser à époque old and the circumstance. & lt; br/& WP; Or, more often, than l& #39; spirit tightens à to have his façon, one can s& #39; to delay here, centré Westerly – for a durée which can même last with-delà d& #39; a thousand of palpitations. & lt; br/& WP; Which portée can section d& #39; a destiny without limits? & lt; br/& WP; To see l& #39; article unit visits vision of Earth à www.evsite. Net & lt; br/& WP;

Jos Graf asked:


Aquí en la costa oeste, la sal de coladas circunspectas constantemente contra el mar del verdor.   La extensión Greening y etérea prevalece, el brote, moiling la flora prospera y reproduce, se arraiga en un crescendo constante.   Aquí, ningunos pueden dar vuelta lejos, porque se exponen todas las direcciones.   Y ningunos pueden llevar a cabo en cheque la fuerza que rueda que se levanta, más que la gama de marea del océano puede cesar su respiración sin fin. En tierra, como el ojo y el corazón crecen saciados en brillantez exterior, y dé vuelta dentro a la mirada a través del bosque del soulhood, los encuentros del buscador un viento del embate, ceaselessly  lamentándose en silencio acústico, soplando contra todas las fuerzas de ramificación, entregando viento-en-rama-canciones a una audiencia salvaje y vigilante. En este dominio costero que encontramos una gama de habitante-en-habitat, del wren diminuto, ratón-pájaro, en su bosque de la helecho-fronda, hasta los gigantes del árbol del viejo crecimiento, que, en este océano-borde rodean, hemos desarrollado fuerzas de arraigo de gran alcance para soportar los grandes vientos que prevalecen de enfrente de las aguas. En la luz de la mañana, el mar me obliga a que abra mis alas sobre el marea-plano de la visión.   Por día, le cantaré un árbol.   Le bailaré una corriente.   Y al igualar caídas, orate para usted una puesta del sol, un calor y un color trenzando en medidas distantes. El pequeño pájaro melódico de  A separa sus alas por los leavings de la alga marina del alesaje de marea.   La serenata del gorrión de canción, redacción dulce en el aire de la sal, se levanta como melodía verde-que hojea debajo de las barbas del usnea, violentamente liquenes barbudos cubiertos en los alcances más bajos de las ramas de la conífera.  y yo caminamos lentamente, con la deliberación, a través del bosque del mar-borde, en donde revolotea el ratón-wren furtivo, detectado apenas, en una debajo-historia del helecho y salal, con un argumento, obligando e intrincado.  aquí, naturaleza de la abuela revela su obra maestra de la génesis por el borde del riffling, sobre la superficie del mar de la asignación.   La naturaleza de la abuela, en un alcohol de la prosperidad y de las capas que tejen, sirve para arriba una profesión de escritor encerrado en la tinta de la confluencia y de la disposición profundamente de arraigo.  y tarde en la noche, por el mismo mar entusiasta, pero la abajo-costa adicional, bien más allá del portal reservado del ™ s del € del sunsetâ en el dreamtime animal, el grito de lobos perfora los velos del primordia dispuestos para guardar saber humana en la bahía.  por nueve años él esperó, atravesando la perrito-capilla a la anciano, abajo a través de las lunas alfa incontables.   Y entonces, como el calendario de la inspiración vino rodar adentro el círculo completo, ahora a través de la lluvia de la noche, el creativo, la fuerza lobo-nata se sostiene no más en la suspensión. Ahora el grito canta en el stirring de durmientes, en los espacios de wakening.   A través del mar de la libertad y de la imaginación que el paquete de lobo lanza su resonancia curativa, suene de formación en un recipiente que navegue sobre el tumulto que levanta sobre la superficie de la charca salvaje y sin riberas.  la luna estimula despertar de nuestra naturaleza animal.   Esta es la razón por la cual, tan a menudo a la hora de la Luna Llena, insomnio se induce en ésos sensibles a la influencia ambiental.   Dentro de la psique, la luna realza esas calidades peculiares a este landscape costero  – arraigando, arrellanando, lloviendo, filtrando, goteando, onda que sube en la onda, rodando a través de la playa de desembarco del ™ s del € del soulâ. Me conducen (por uno mismo) para ser funcional y/o creativo.   Sin embargo, en este tiempo soy más necesitando el centro.   Es decir, de pedir mi base más profunda la dirección.   ¿Cuál soy que quiere enganchar, en este momento, de mi centro?  para ver la visión entera de la tierra de la visita del artículo en www.evsite.net

Steppes Travel asked:


Trying to get over my disappointment of children always come in second in beauty contests the monopoly, I traveled to Niger. Gerewol More specifically, the festival of Wodaabe, who numbered among the nomadic past of the Wodaabe Africa.The landscape is rough dwell: in central Niger, between the great Sahara desert and grasslands, lies a vast steppe, scattered with scrawny bushes and acacia trees sturdy. For nine months of rain a drop down slightly. The days are torrid, the nights sometimes freezing cold. And the harmattan, the hot wind off the desert, blows up relentlessly, filling the air with a sandy haze. Through this no-man 's land Wodaabe herd of cattle, migrating north in the rainy season and south again in the dry months and leaving no ninguÃŒ?? No trace of their travels as they go. And then every year after the rains, the purses of Wodaabe for Gerewol, the highlight of their calendar and a celebration of male beauty, as young men paint their faces, sing, dance, discover their teeth and roll their eyeballs in an attempt to look their best. I use 'calendar' in its most sluggish: being nomadic there is no fixed date to the festival – is usually in September. Also, worryingly as we drove through rolling grassland, no fixed location. The goats gallop through long grasses, camels wallowed imperiously across the horizon, white donkeys stared back at us. We stopped to ask youth pastors, we stopped at the campsite of the Tuareg, little more than animal skins stretched over wooden platforms only a couple of feet tall. Every time we pointed vaguely forward, every time we gave a different estimate of the time it would take to get there. Was that on foot? Do you have an inkling of how long it would take a car? For nomadic people, were surprisingly vague about the distance but then being constantly in motion his concept of space is very different from ours. While the light was fading and my hopes of finding the festival, the empty expanse of yellow grass and bushes of the acacia thorn led to a temporary encampment of fires bustling, shopping, laughter and dance. Groups of people, speeding their passage in advance, ahead loosen and tighten around a dance. The dancers line up, bobbing rhythmically, rising and falling on your toes, arms that rise in waves. Sing – the frantic singing – accompanied only by handclaps, which rises to a crescendo. They are striking and impressive in the necklaces, earrings, plumes adorn their headgear and bells on their ankles. The makeup accentuates their long faces and delicate features – red foundation, lipstick charcoal black, eyeliner – as young men grimacing to show the whites of their eyes and their teeth to attract girls. For dancers the prize is to be chosen by a girl and then mate off, perhaps for the union, usually just for the night. The biggest prize is the Wodaabe social cohesion and the continuation of a way of life restores collective ties is an occasion to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of camaraderie and the company before leaving with their flocks. There are three balls of the men of the account but the numbers look far more. The women were dressed in their best clothes, children running around, men, armed with swords, some on camels for additional advantage. The dance continues long into the night. The rising sun slowly breathes life into the field. Fires burn, ceremoniously poured tea from tall women walk on a line field, carrying bowls of food, millet and milk to their menfolk. The bands of men in suits and flowing heads covered in turbans walk aside from area to area. They crouch down in front of a family and the see-sawing gentle greeting begins. Respects are paid and move on. Later in the day, the heat is intense and the undermining of energy. Yet despite the sun that the dance continues, the song is in the air stifling. In a line rise and fall, crowds gather, a selection of brightly colored umbrellas compete for the position. There are no such let off for the dancers, the counting of the sun and the viewer is relentless. The gerewol is proof of force – is turned on for hours in the afternoon despite the painful heat. I, like many, feel less energetic and watching the comings and goings. Women walk elegantly across the horizon, food bowls balanced on their heads with tolerance, to fortify those who sit in the shade. The men in white turbans, black, green, red, carry water kettles, swords rake slung across their backs. The inquisitive children gather around the show in the festivities – we gawp at the latest. Young girls are in black, whose borders are given the character color embroidery and white trim. Around their necks and wrists are the necklaces and bracelets live yellow and red beans. They stare at the hair on my arms. Gently squeeze the ends of my fingers. In the late afternoon there is a flurry of last minute preening. The mirrors are held high, up examination, puckered lips, teeth bared. The words of advice given last minute. Enthusiasm, encouragement and enthusiasm. In line with singing rhythmic click, hiss and stamp their feet. Rolling his eyes and showing his white teeth, trying to win the approval of the young women of another race. The young woman is nervous, discouraged by the choice before her. The decision making is made easier by a coven of older women who walk up and down the line that cuts down a shortlist.

Stig Kristoffersen asked:


U vindt Kazan, in West-Centraal-Rusland, niet ver van Moskou, waar de Wolga en de Kama Rivieren convergeren. Kazan is de hoofdstad van de staat Tatarstan, in de Russische Federatie. De haven van Kazan en de scheepswerven is een belangrijk centrum voor vervoer over water Rusland. De Universiteit van Kazan is de instelling waar Lenin en Tolstoy bestudeerd. Kazan bekend om zijn kloosters, musea, de Islamitische Universiteit Medrese, en de Islamitische moskeeën, heeft een van de grootste moskeeën van Europa.

Kazan is beroemd voor zijn Opera en Ballet theaters en internationale festivals. In Kazan, toeristen vinden musea en galeries, parken en casino's en de Kazan Kremlin gebouwen. In Kazan, toeristen kunnen genieten van musea, bibliotheken met de nieuwste technologie, pretparken, casino's, rivierboottochten de Hippodroom en het Water Park, die het hele jaar open. Sommige van de nachtclubs bieden restaurants, muziek, dans en andere entertainment en er zijn cafes, restaurants, bars en veel plaatsen om te winkelen.

De Kazan vliegveld is ongeveer 30km van het centrum van de stad en bussen, taxi's, Verhuur van auto's of treinen beschikbaar zijn voor het vervoer naar de stad. Eenmaal in Kazan bussen, trams, trolleys en wandelen zijn de vervoermiddelen. Iedereen reist naar Kazan of een deel van Rusland heeft behoefte aan een paspoort, visum, entry / exit-kaarten, en een reisvoucher. Toeristen invullen Migratie kaarten aan de grens en deze blijven met hun paspoorten. Reisagenten kunnen bieden alle benodigde informatie en kopieën van de formulieren die nodig zijn voor de reis naar Kazan. Travelers uitvoering kopieën van persoonlijke papieren verstandig.