My name is Nadia (Veneta Brooke), I`m a Bulgarian and this is my horoscope page, which I created in 2002. The advice I give and the predictions I make are in order to give you a different perspective on your daily life and on the things in life. Above all, however, you must follow your own intuition and your own destiny. The purpose of my horoscopes is not to determine your actions and decisions, but to help you to organize your thoughts and priorities when you need such help.

I would like to share with you my hobby and desire to create a collection of postcards from all the small villages and towns where you live. One day, I will make this collection public to visitors where I live. Each of my followers will have their own page in this collection where I will put the postcard, the country and place it is from, and anything else you decide to share with me. It is possible to add this collection to my horoscopes page https://astro.velida.net, as well so that it is public to all followers as well. I will be glad if you support this idea of mine! With warmest feelings to you all: Nadia
My mailing address is:
Kosovo village 4240
Plovdiv Province
Veneta Brooke Nadia


The woman from Saint Sophia

(notes from my diary)

Just a few days ago, I had no idea what experiences awaited me at the beginning of November. My life went on in the usual routine: home, work, family...
The invitation to travel to Kuwait came unexpectedly. On the one hand, I needed variety, but on the other hand, flying is always scary, especially in light of recent events... I later found out that there were two plane crashes on the day I flew...
The plane ticket was Bucharest - Istanbul, change and then Istanbul - Kuwait. The difference between the two flights was about an hour and a half, more than enough to successfully connect from one flight to the other.
The problems started at Bucharest airport. The flight was too late almost 30 minutes. When I entered the plane, it turned out that my seat was in the last row, the last "seat" next to the window. Everything seemed to be predetermined from the beginning.
When we landed in Istanbul it took me at least 20 minutes to get off the plane and that was the end of it. The flight to Kuwait was closed for me. Panic is a normal state at such a time. Thank God my knowledge of English was sufficient to understand that since the delay was not my fault, Turkish Airlines provided me with a hotel and food until the next flight the next day in the evening. The idea of staying in Istanbul was scary considering I didn't know anyone here and didn't have any Turkish Lira.
The way to the hotel was boring and long until the moment I saw her the great Constantinople Church/Tsarigrad Mosque of Hagia Sophia... Our first mutual look with her was special, magical. I felt that he had a lot to tell me, but the time had to come. It wasn't a sense of something seen before, more of a place I needed to see to get my message. I was sent to meet someone I knew nothing about.
The Grand Washington Hotel was far from what its name suggested, but inside it was clean and cozy. I hurried to feel the touch of the pillow, tired from the tension of the last hours
The next day at 5.25 a muezzin from the neighboring mosque woke me up inviting me to the first morning prayer. I could clearly hear the imam's words and as an echo I could also hear the voices of the other imams from the surrounding mosques. It felt good but too early for me :)
After breakfast I decided I should go out. The day would be too long if I had to spend it only in the hotel.
I decided to try to withdraw money from an ATM, without thinking that they would not give me information about the exchange rate in euros or leva. When I saw that he was offering me to withdraw various amounts in Turkish lira, I realized that I was still somewhere in the clouds :)
Listening to my inner voice I decided to withdraw fifty pounds and when I turned to see what direction to take it the church-mosque shone again in all its light in front of me as if to say to me: "Good morning! I have been waiting for you for a long time.. ."
I entered through the entrance, to the left of which are stone graves. Suddenly, a wave of sorrow and tears splashed in my face, and unexpectedly for myself, I cried myself filled with sorrow and sadness without being aware of why this was happening to me. I leaned on a tombstone, and somewhere under it, it seemed like a 14-16-year-old child was sending me signals... It was strange, I was not prepared for such a meeting, for such a "welcome" in the morning. These emotions weren't wanted, they weren't expected... even meeting "her" was too strange...
My walk around the temple inside was not long, I felt empty, I felt nothing... not delight, not joy, not any other emotion. My heart was left there outside next to the stone graves. In the afternoon hours as I was sitting on the laptop I suddenly felt a strong desire to eat something sweet, very sweet. I quickly got dressed and jumped out.
From the hotel, different streets led in different directions. I had forgotten where I was looking for a pastry shop in the morning, so I set out blindly. The sellers from the stores offered me their goods in Russian, apparently they were treating my "Slavic" vein. There was no pastry shop in the first street and I turned back to the hotel. I didn't want to go too far because I was afraid of getting lost in the crowd. Contrary to my expectations, almost no one here knew English…
I went down another alley and still nothing. I went back to the hotel and took a different direction and back again and again...on the fourth time I found it. A flaky patisserie with large display windows with a variety of delicacies. I didn't know what Kahraman's baklava was :), but I decided to let my inner suggestion go. I ordered two baklavas and rice milk, which had a creme caramel topping. And when I sat down at the table by the window, the church-mosque again showed itself in all its glory. I stepped in... Did she call me here or was it all a coincidence?
And as I pondered this, watching the passing cars and buses, "SHE" appeared, the woman with a veil on her head and an ethereal dress, in a pale color with a bluish blue tint.
"I am the sister of Vespasian - the emperor! When we were here, all this was gone, it was a small temple-chapel that my brother built as thanks to God for the child."
"Which kid? And what's your name?" - I wanted to ask
A slight smile and silence... The wind seemed to gently blow the ethereal veils over her. Silence and I heard nothing more, I didn't feel, I didn't understand...
She was standing next to the church, and I could see her human-sized standing next to me. It was strange...as if she had been waiting for me. He knew I would see her and he wanted to remind himself. She had stayed here for some reason. Is the child

Part II. On departure from Istanbul, Thracian Byzantium, Roman Constantinople...
She, the sister of Vespasian, remained there in ancient Constantinople, guarding her secrets and those of the empire which the Flavians ruled successfully. When I saw in the encyclopedia that he was born on the 17th of November, I thought that because of the approaching day, what happened might be related... His only sister, Flavia, died as a child. What is the connection with it and the Thracian Byzantium (Constantinople) I do not know.
Vespasian the emperor began his public service as a military tribune in Thrace.
In the late afternoon of the same day, I started getting ready for the next flight. The directions of Turkish Airlines were at 5 p.m. that a car will come to pick us up. I and two Arabs were left from last night's "hartisali" group. It's 5 p.m. but there was no car. The men then suggested we take a cab and split the cost (very nice of them). Leaving, I sat in the back with the older one, and the younger one who knew Turkish sat in the front next to the driver. I was chatting with my neighbor. He turned out to be a Palestinian in Morocco, a "stick" in the field of education, who was traveling to a conference in Ryazan, Russia. The man was on foot in a panic of panic....All the while he was waving at the driver shouting: "Sadi, Shuf, Shuf....." then he would start mentioning Allah and making dua after dua....All this was done with a big waving of hands and shouts of loud louder….Hardly ever Allah was mentioned so many times in such a short time by one person…..
The fortress walls of Constantinople rose to my left... At first I thought it was something like a set for a movie, it looked so majestic and preserved. But the kilometers went on, and the fortress continued to wind, where it was preserved, where it was less... but overall very majestic. It was all really a surprise to me. I had no idea what was left of the old Byzantine capital, I always thought that everything was destroyed, probably comparing it to what was left of Tarnovgrad. There is no doubt that only Jerusalem could rival this city in splendor.
But where Christ has remained outside the heart, Mohammed has entered without a problem...
Atatürk Airport is really huge compared to the airports in Bucharest and Kuwait. But the chaos is complete, the security too low for such an explosive place. Compensation for that was the sumptuous food on the plane :)