Exploring Slovenia

On our following day in Slovenia we decided to rent a vehicle. As good as public transportation is, there simply are no buses that go over high mountain passes, along scenic routes or cover the entire country in a matter of two days. Turned out that we tracked down a fantastic deal through a company called Sixt. We got ourselves a brand new Hyundai (with 1500km only) for a mere 80 Euro for three days.

First we headed south to the Skocjan Caves which are noted on the UNESCO World Heritage List primarily because they contain one of the largest underground canyons. While walking the 3.5 meters underground we had to cross a bridge 45 meters over the river that flowed at the bottom of the canyon. Quite the impressive sight. It was not necessarily the caving experience I was looking for, but still quite different from the cave in Lebanon and “civilized” enough for Julita to have enjoyed it.

From there we drove further south to the Slovenian coast and the tiny town of Piran. It was truly one of the most picturesque coastal towns we had seen – and much nicer than most of the towns in Croatia. Situated on a peninsula that juts into the Mediterranean Sea it has water on three sides of it. Although there is no real beach, there are plenty of access points to the crystal clear water and paved docks where you can stretch out, suntan and simply relax. The water was so amazingly warm that you did not want to climb out. It must have been at least 3 or 4 degrees warmer than the Red Sea.

In Piran we roamed the little Venetian Style alleys, admired the churches and chapels as well as the clock tower which was constructed to mimic the ones in Saint Marco’s Square in Venice, had the most delicious dinner for 10 Euros and then relaxed at the sea until the sun went down.
The most amazing part of this day is the fact that we went from the northern/central part of Slovenia all the way to its southern coast in 1.5 hours. Everything here seems to be within arm’s reach, especially in comparison to the distances at home.

The following day we started bright and early and traveled north. The journey took us into Italy for long enough for Fido to track my movements and to send me a welcoming text message into yet another country. Within 20 minutes we were back in Slovenia and heading toward Bovec, a little town that is likely the adrenaline capital of Slovenia. From here you can go on white water rafting trips, kayaking excursions, caving, canyoning, paragliding and I have no idea what else. My choice this time round was to try out canyoning.

So while Julita rested her swollen ankle in a café I went for a two hour hike along the Soca river and then on a 3 hour canyoning excursion. Photos from this might follow as I was joined by a Dutch couple with a waterproof camera. For those who might not know what canyoning involves the recipe is as follows: (1) freezing cold glacier water (probably about 5 degrees); (2) a wetsuit and helmet; (3) a ½ hour steep hike upstream; and (4) some momentary insanity which results in all common sense being thrown out the door. The 4th element is absolutely crucial since no one of a sane mind would decide to make their way back to the starting point sliding and jumping off of boulders inside the river. The return journey involved a combination of walking in the narrow river, swimming in it, sliding down natural rock slides and jumping off of cliffs. Some slides were innocent enough, a meter or two long and nicely slanted. However, others were 5 – 8 meters high, nearly vertical so that the guide had to hold you by your wetsuit while you got in the correct position, then release you into the unknown. Most of the time you would go on your back (arms and legs crossed), but at other times you’d slide down head first either on your belly or your back. Some slides went into caves, others had really narrow “landing” ponds where you were instructed to make sure not to reach out with your arms because that would result in them being smashed against the rock.

The slides alternated with jumps: spots where the rock was not smooth enough for you to slide down, but where the drop off was too high to simply climb down. In those places you had to find your own courage since the guide could not give you the necessary push, and for someone like me, who is terrified of taking that leap, it took quite a bit of willpower to jump off the 6 or 7 meters.

But I must admit that I chickened out of the last slide. This one was again virtually vertical and 12 meters long. I just could not get enough courage to go on this 3 second ride.

From Bovec we returned back to Kranj via a mountain pass route that took us along 50 serpentine turns from about 650 meters to 1650 meters. There were 25 turns going up and another 25 going down. Despite the massive rain clouds the views from this road were stunning. The greenery in this country is insane and if not for the rain hiking in these mountains might have been irresistible. Slovenia’s highest peak can be summated in a day or two, so there definitely is no shortage of hiking options, from the easy strolls to more challenging mountaineering.

Back in Kranj we went out for some drinks with Florjan and his friend then returned to the hotel to chat late into the night. Our following day was spent with an excursion to Lake Bohanj, were we again got caught by a massive storm. This was followed up with an incredibly entertaining conversation with Florjan’s father (in what must have been 5 languages). Florjan’s father asserted that since Polish and Slovenian languages are so similar, we should be able to understand each other if we spoke in our respective languages. This was often interspersed with German and English when Florjan would come to our assistance and translate and augmented by Serbian which at times had more appropriate vocabulary. Apparently many Polish words are not Polish enough: diabel (devil) is too Italian; urlop and wakacje (vacation) were too German and to English respectively. There is also some word in Slovenian for peach which is something similar in Serbian and apparently refers to woman as well but the Polish equivalent for it evaded us, so we are not sure what it was. Florjan was too hesitant to translate this part of the conversation.

After our multi-lingual conversation we headed a couple villages over and took a nice stroll with Sana’s dogs then packed our bags and headed back to Ljubljana were we are currently sitting and waiting for our train to Pecs, Hungary. This won’t depart until 2am and will take us back across the Croatian border (where we will be woken up by the border guards), into Zagreb, from there on to the Hungarian border (where will again be woken up by the border guards) and then into a town on the Hungarian side where we have to change trains and eventually arrive in Pecs after what is promising to be a rejuvenating and sleep filled night.

The next post will be from Hungary.

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Slovenia: From Ballet to Tractors

From Ljubljana we headed to Lake Bled where we were picked up by Florjan, our next couchsurfing host. He took us around the lake where we got to photograph what must be the most prolific postcard setting ever: a little island with a church in the middle of the lake. We also got to go up to the castle to have the traditional view of the lake from up above. However, as per Florjan and his cousin, there really isn’t much at Lake Bled and the locals don’t really understand why all the tourists seem to always go there.

So the rest of the day’s itinerary was left in their hands. We first headed to what used to be his family farm. Now the farm serves only their needs as opposed to being a business operation. There we were greeted by his grandma and grandpa (93 years old) where I got interrogated by his grandfather in German about how we know him, what we do, where we are traveling, the political situation in Poland and my relationship status. We also met his mother, uncle and aunt as well a number of other cousins.

After a delicious snack of homemade juice, fresh bread, good cheese and homemade salami we headed out into the fields on their tractor. Since Julita had mentioned earlier that she used to drive a tractor when she was younger, he insisted that she give it a go and later on made me have a go on it as well. It was truly the last thing I ever expected to do in my life, and definitely not on this trip, much less a mere 12 hours or so after watching ballet in the main square of Ljubljana.

From the stunning views of the fields, with horses in the foreground, church towers somewhere in the distance and the Alps in the background, we were taken up to Kravecen, their local ski resort. The views would have been stunning if not for the clouds that had rolled in. Nevertheless we went on a walk through the green ski slopes and admired the number of chairlifts and routs available (all for a mere 20 Euros per day).

With the evening upon us, we headed back down and were told that we’d be picking up Florjan’s brother from somewhere. This turned out to be a mere rouse to get us up on yet another hill. Here, instead of chairlifts at the summit, there was a beautiful hotel. Turns out that it is a family business and that this would be our accommodations for the following three nights. (From the top of the hotel you can see nearly 20% of all of Slovenia.) We even got to go into the local chapel, climb into the bell tower and ring the giant (and incredibly loud) bells so that our wishes could come true. After a dinner with his cousins and his mom we retired into our luxurious accommodations and went to sleep still in awe of the hospitality that we had been shown and the entire day’s events.

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Ljubljana: A fantastic introduction to Slovenia

Well, Zagreb might have free public transportation in its city center, but Ljubljana has the free concerts and festivals in its main squares happening throughout the entire summer.

I did not mention it before, but yes, Zagreb did have completely free public transportation in its city core: this included all buses and trams and was introduced to decrease car traffic. However, this failed to compete with Ljubljana. When we arrived at 10pm, we found the city center alive with classical music only to find out that they were having a Ballet Festival lasting the entire week. We caught the tail end of the contemporary ballet performance that night, but on the following evening were privileged to watch a beautifully choreographed ballet opera to Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. All this takes places right on the banks of their river and starts at sunset.

When the Ballet Festival is over, it is followed by the Jazz Festival, then the Ljubljana Festival, then some other festival etc. etc. etc. The free performances simply do not end and most of the time you actually have to choose which event you want to see on any given night. Couple this with the fact that the garbage man wear black dress pants, black dress shoes, a white shirt, a bowtie and white gloves while walking down the street with brooms and those dust pans on a stick, there truly can’t be a better capital than Ljubljana.

Like Sarajevo it is a relatively small capital city, but then so is Slovenia. It is a tiny country, about half the size of Switzerland with just over two million people. Pretty much from anywhere in Slovenia you will not be more than 50 km as the crow flies from the border of a different country, whether it would be Austria, Hungary, Croatia or Italy. They call it “Europe in Minature”, “The Sunny Side of the Alps” or “The Green Piece of Europe” and all of them seem quite appropriate, especially the last, given that with more than half of its total area covered in forest, Slovenia is one of the greenest countries in the world.

We were hosted about 8 km outside of Ljubljana and as a result got to spend an entire incredibly hot day roaming and enjoying the town. The cleanliness, the cute little streets, the great service, the smiling people, the fantastic food and the absolutely amazing ballet performance made it a fantastic day.

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Croatia in Closing

Given the amount of hype Croatia gets as a fantastic tourist destination, I must say I expected more and am not sure whether it would place anywhere near the top of my must see or must return to list.

First and foremost we found most Croatians that we encountered to be quite rude. A perfect example of it was the hostess in a highly recommended restaurant. We wanted to see the menu prior to deciding whether or not to stay. Since there was no one around and I saw the menus lying on a stool just inside the door, I stepped in and started looking for one in English. The hostess then came towards us, abruptly stated that she would give me one and then told me to get outside the restaurant and wait outside. When we finally decided that we did want to stay we asked her if she had room for three. She turns to us and says: “Does it look like there is room for three?” (All tables were full in the garden that we could see, but since we couldn’t go inside we didn’t know if there was more to the restaurant than that). Too stunned to respond to a comment like that we kept our silence and the hostess finally turned around and said: “But there is room inside across the street.”

The rudeness extended to store and bank clerks as well as some of our bus drivers. By no means am I saying that all Croatians are like that, but our general experience over the 11 days was that they were stuck up, thought themselves better than everyone else and considered it too much effort to have a smile on their face and to address others politely.

As for the beaches and towns along the coast: yes it is a beautiful coast, but so is the rest of the Adriatic and Mediterranean. Put together with the fact that many of the old towns look very similar Croatia seemed to be a nice enough place to visit if you have a chance to, but not necessarily a highlight, and especially not given that it is relatively pricey compared to its neighbours. If I had to choose, Slovenia would be much much much higher on my must-see list than Croatia.

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The end of Croatia: From a pleasant jungle to a concrete jungle

After 8.5 hours, 16 lakes, 18 km and nearly 500 photos we can finally say that we saw Plitvice Lakes National Park. It was definitely one of the highlights of all of Croatia and a place not to be missed.

The Plitvice Lakes National Park lies between Zadar and Zagreb and is comprised of 16 lakes that are separated by natural dames of travertine. Encrusted plants and bacteria accumulate on top of each other forming travertine barriers which grow at a rate of about 1cm per year and thereby continuously change the landscape.

The lakes are separated into an upper and lower cluster from by runoff from the mountains, descending from an altitude of 636 to 503 meters. One of their greatest appeals is the distinctive colours which range from azure to green, turquoise, grey or blue.

As mentioned we spent the majority of the day wandering along the boardwalks and trails connecting these lakes loving every moment of it. It was a kind of cross between a miniature Iguacu Falls and Niagara Falls but different. So, as the Thai would say it, “Same same but different.” Every corner you poked your head around greeted you with yet another fantastic sight: a different color of the lake, a different kind of fish that you could spot swimming in its depths, a stunning waterfall or simply another cascade that meandered its way along and underneath the boardwalk you were walking on. We walked for well over 8 hours that day and did not feel the least bit tired. It was the most rejuvenating day I’ve had in all of Croatia.

What makes this park so much better is how easily accessible it is. I have traveled a lot through various parks both in Europe and in North America and quite often unless you have a vehicle and a tent they cannot be accessed or at least not easily. Here there are regular buses between Split and/or Zadar and Zagreb that drop you off right at the park’s entrance (although if coming from Split or Zadar you would want to be dropped off about 1km before the park entrance in Jezerce). Secondly, Jezerce contains an endless array of little alpine-like houses each offering rooms and apartments for rent and quite often at very reasonable prices (if you know how to bargain). As such, with both transporation and accommodation not being an issue, the park becomes an easy stop of point on any backpacking circuit. Furthermore, the park itself is incredibly well organized and maintained. The info desk provides you with various walking itineraries depending on how much time you want to spend in the park, there are little trains and boats that take you to various starting points along the trails and everything is incredibly well signposted. As such, Plitvice should be a stop for anyone traveling on this route.

Zagreb on the other hand has turned out to be a concrete jungle. Maybe our first impression is biased by the insanely oppressing heat and high humidity that have made walking amongst all the concrete simply unbearable. However, the city does not seem to have too much to offer. Its old town is desperately lacking, there seems to be a shortage of pleasant little cafes or restaurants, and an incredible shortage of trees (in the Old Town). The end result of this oppressing heat wave is that we’ve spent some of the time roaming the town, but mostly just trying to avoid the heat by going to the movies, visiting the museums and seeking any shade possible. Tonight it’s off to Ljubljana where hopefully it will not be this humid.

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Split: Where modern meets traditional

Split is Croatia’s second-largest city with a population of over 180,000, yet when in the Old Town you feel as if it is a city of several thousand. It is free of the mass tourism that plagues places such as Dubrovnik, but it is nevertheless always buzzing: whether hosting fashion week with its runway shows (which we got to see), or open-air operas and concerts in the Old Town (which we unfortunately will not get to see). The Diocletian’s Palace is a Unesco World Heritage site and one of the world’s most impressive Roman monuments. It faces the harbor and was built as a strong rectangular fortress, with walls measuring 215m from east to west and 181m wide at the southernmost point. Situated in the heart of the Old Town it becomes one with it. The residences, mausoleum and temples are all sprinkled amidst these walls and the narrow alleys.

The Old Town is in essence a vast open-air museum. But it is not a museum that you would ever think of. Rather, around every corner, tucked into every ancient corner, amongst the crumbling buildings and the cobblestone streets are a myriad of cafes, bars and restaurants. The old and the new intermingle with absolutely no dissonance. The harmony is what adds character and atmosphere to the old walls and you truly see that life in Split has gone on in similar fashion for thousands of years.

And if we thought that the marble streets of Durbovnik were slippery, we quickly reconsidered that assertion upon our arrival in Split. The cobblestone here is polished to such an extent that walking down stairs and stepping onto slightly slanted stones will immediately result in you sitting on your ass and trying to figure out what happened, and it hasn’t even rained. I cannot imagine what kind of safety hazard these stones are when they are wet. I wonder if you can hold the city liable if something were to happen to you.

Unsurprisingly we love Split. We love the atmosphere and the architecture, and in Julita’s case the endless designer stores as well as the pasticada (a traditional Croatian gulash like dish served with gnocchi). The only downsides of our stay here have been the insanely stifling temperatures (it must have been well over 35 degrees today) and the fact that our little apartment with a kitchen has a malfunctioning stove which means that it is merely a little apartment, minus kitchen.

Tomorrow morning Paulina will be splitting from us (forgive the bad pun) and heading up to Poland. Julita and I will be continuing on to Plitvice Lakes National Park with the hopes of cooling off in 16 supposedly very picturesque lakes.

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The Croatian Coast

Over the recent years, Croatia has become a massive tourist destination and deservedly so. With over 1700km of coastline and over a thousand islands dotting the turquoise waters of the Adriatic, there truly aren’t many places that can compete with it.

We started our last day in Dubrovnik with a 4:30am wakeup and were greeted by a gorgeous morning. The streets of the Old Town were deserted. Seagulls and pigeons were fighting over various crumbs and leftovers that had been dropped from the numerous cafes and restaurants lining the main street the night before. They had to make quick work of it as by 7am everything was cleaned up and polished by the garbage man that came out in force. The swallows danced in the hundreds in the sky above us, chasing one another between the buildings and along the red shingled rooftops. Aside for their chatter the city was quite, all its inhabitants still asleep and all the tourists still safely cuddled up in their beds.

At 6am a few of the café staff began to appear and slowly begin to open up their premises, pulling out the tables and chairs. By 7am the garbage man were wrapping up their work and some of the local market vendors were beginning to haul in their goods. By 8am a few adventurous tourists began to appear, some with suitcases, clearly just having arrived, others with their cameras, hoping to get some early morning shots.

At 8am we were the first to get our tickets for the fortification walls and to climb to the top of them. These walls are deservedly Dubrovnik’s main claim to fame. Overall they are over 2km in length and offer stunning views into the city as well as over the water. They hug the cliff’s edge then proceed inland with giant defense towers encircling the entire town. We spent over an hour exploring their length snapping endless shots in every direction.

From Dubrovnik we caught a 3 hour bus to the Island of Korcula (via a short ferry ride). Korcula is a relatively small town with an even smaller Old Town. We found accommodations in the heart of the Old Town in a little three story apartment. From here there are endless options in terms of occupying your time: you can rent a sail boat, you can go kayaking, you can head on an excursion to one of the nearby islands, there are mountain biking trails, vineyards to visits, cafes to sit in or beaches to lounge around. If you want something more extreme they can arrange diving trips, donkey safaris or trekking excursions. We opted for a semi relaxed combination of beach bumming and hiking (or rather walking along the coast to the beach where the rest of the day was spent alternating between cooling oneself off in the amazing waters of the Adriatic and lying on the beach like a pancake that is slowly being melted away).

Tomorrow morning will hopefully entail some more beach bumming followed by a 4 ½ hour ferry ride to Split.

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Dubrovnik: Croatia’s southern-most gem

It’s Thursday evening and the sun is about to set. I’m sitting on the windowsill of our little room looking west. If not for one house in front of me I would have a clear view of the Adriatic and the setting sun. But life is not perfect so I won’t complain if the tip of its roof covers the last bit of the setting sun. To my left I have Dubrovnik’s harbor below me. The sunlight is playing off of the white and cream facades of all the buildings and shimmering in the water as the clouds progressively become more yellow, than orange and finally achieve a shade of purple. Just behind the harbor are more green mountains as the land loops in on itself creating a little bay in which all the little boats can calmly dock. When the mountain slopes descend a bit the Adriatic Sea and some nearby islands are revealed. If I poke my head out and look behind me (East), the Old Town should be visible, but my position on the windowsill is a little too precarious to attempt such a maneuver.

The house in which we managed to secure a “Sobe” (a room), is situated on a relatively steep hillside overlooking Dubrovnik. Like in Veliko Tarnovo the two main directions seem to be up and down and there is no shortage of stairs.

This will now be our third night in Dubrovnik and our wish for nicer weather was only partially fulfilled. When we left Kotor the prior night’s storm had all but disappeared and we were greated by a gorgeous blue sky and a shimmering bay. Our drive north-west along the Adriatic coast was simply mesmerizing and this weather kept up on our first day in Dubrovnik.

After securing our accommodations we headed to the Stari Grad (Old Town). It was much larger than Kotor’s and in a way much more pretentious, but deservedly so. The light glistened off of its marble-like pavement that was so polished by the thousands of feet that crossed it daily, that one could organize sliding competitions on it. The glorious cathedrals and churches appeared around every corner and all of this was encompassed by the magnificent fortification walls that surrounded the entire city. Sitting on the patio of a restaurant in one of Dubrovnik’s many squares, the city reminded me a little of Venice, minus the canals. It had the same grandness to it, an ageless quality that takes your breath away.

Maybe Dubrovnik would not have made the same first impression if the weather had not been so perfect. But the white stones of the old city, its grand clock towers and walls all set against the crisp deep blue sky dotted with little white fluffy clouds made the city appear fairytale-like. The sun reflected off of the turquoise water and the buildings and at times was bright enough that you almost forgot the thousands of tourists jostling in the streets alongside you. I think that was Dubrovnik’s main drawback: the endless busloads of tourists that inundate nearly every corner of the Old Town’s little streets (and it’s not even high season yet).

We decided that we had to see the city without the crowds and planned on waking up before sunrise and making our way down to the Old Town to see it empty and then to explore the fortification walls before the arrival of the crowds (since they charge 10 Euro to climb them, we figured we’d better be the first ones there).

Unfortunately on the following morning the weather was not very cooperative. Rather than heading into the Old Town we decided to catch a ferry to the nearby island of Mljet famous for its Salt Lakes, National Park and the numerous hiking and biking trails. Without the sunshine the Adriatic lost most of its appeal but the weather seemed to be good enough for a bike ride along the island.

So once there we rented ourselves some mountain bikes and proceeded up hill and towards the lakes. Once there the water proved enticing enough to warrant a swim, although I was the only one to do so, and as per the warning sign, I made sure not to do this in a “natural” fashion since no naturalism was allowed. After the swim we continued biking along the lake shore, past the little lake and along the large lake, only to come to the edge of the Adriatic. Apparently their name is only partially accurate. Yes, the lakes are indeed salty, since they are connected to the sea, but given this connection, it seems a little bit inappropriate to call them lakes. But semantics aside, it started raining, and not just a little drizzle. We managed to wait the worst of it off under some bushes and then proceeded to make our return journey as quickly as possible. Once back in the port we returned the bikes and warmed up over a delicious lunch in a little restaurant overlooking the tiny harbor.

Four our third day in Dubrovnik the alarm was set for 4:30am, yet the unrelenting splish-splash of the pouring rain outside of our window resulted in its resetting to 6:30am. By that time the rain had eased up to a drizzle and we began to entertain thoughts that it might indeed clear up.
We headed out around 8:30 arriving in the Old Town when there still weren’t too many tourists and roamed its streets for a while. However, in the colder and grayer weather the town had lost some of its charm. The rest of the day was spent exploring the less touristy corners of Dubrovnik and visiting a fantastic photo exhibition entitled Troubled Islam and Ex-Jugoslavija 1991-1999. The photos of Ziyah Gafic were essentially short stories from the aftermath to recent conflicts in Bosnia (tales from the dark valley), Palestine (land without people for people without land), Lebanon (against all odds), Iraq (Saddam city), Afghanistan (damaged people, damaged landscape), Pakistan (short notice), Chechnya (the scariest place on earth), and Northern Ossetia (love thy neighbor). As powerful as these photos were, they provided a sad reminder of the ongoing struggle for daily life, whether it be a struggle to stay alive, for food, electricity, a home or the security from prosecution.

Tomorrow we’re off to the Island of Korcula but first will make yet another attempt to see Durbovnik at sunrise. Hopefully the weather will cooperate and for now I’m optimistic. Although the sky behind me is dark with clouds, but in front of me the setting sun had just turned entire patches of it an amazing purple color. The benefits of traveling in off-season are lesser crowds and no need to book accommodations in advance. The downside of it is the unpredictable weather.

PS: I'm posting this post at just after 6:00am while sitting on a terrace patio in a yet to be opened cafe and watching Dubrovnik slowly wake up as the birds still have the rule over the streets and the sky. We could not have wished for a nicer morning.

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Montenegro: Kotor and the Adriatic Coast

From Mostar we headed via Dubrovnik straight on to Kotor, a little town on the shores of a fjord-like inlet. There truly could not be a more picturesque setting. The steep mountains start virtually on the shoreline leaving the town to hug the small sliver of land at their base. Surrounded by fortification walls that then continue up the steep slopes to a dizzying height, the Old Town is a maze of tiny cobblestone alleys, numerous churches and endless cafes and restaurants.

We managed to find a gorgeous little apartment right at the south gate to the Old Town and made this our base for three days of exploration. The first of these was spent recovering from the previous day’s miserable tour around Mostar and roaming the Old Town.

The second day started with a 5am wakeup and an ascent up the 1350 steps to the peak of the fortification walls to watch the sunrise. Unfortunately although we found ourselves at the top by 6:30am, the sun remained hidden by a cover of gray clouds.

Given the early hour we figured there was no point to commence our descent immediately. Instead, we found a little whole in the fortification walls with markings of further trails and proceeded to visit an adorable little church built on the mountain. From there we found signs for Lovcen peak, one of the highest peaks in Montenegro. Unfortunately none of the markings included distance or time calculations. We continued climbing for another 3 hours but having reached the summits of the local hills and having views of the entire fjord-like peninsula and beyond, we decided it was time to turn around. Lovcen’s peak was, according to our best guess, at least another 3 hours hike and we did not have enough food or water for such an endeavor.
We returned back into the Old Town just as all the tourists were starting to emerge from the recently docked cruise ship. After a delicious breakfast and some well deserved relaxation we caught a local bus to the little town of Persat. This proved to be even smaller and quainter than Kotor with two little churches on tiny islands a hundred or so meters off shore.

Our third day was an excursion to the nearby town of Budva which was to have a similar reputation to Kotor. However, we found that it lacked Kotor’s charm. It had greatly outgrown its tiny Old Town and the development of large scale hotels, apartment blocks and shopping centers greatly detracted from any charm that it may have once possessed. But it did have some pretty nice beaches that for now were not yet crowded. After a bit of beach bumming and a short swim we headed off to Sveti Stefan. This tiny island resort, although quite picturesque in its own, did not make much of an impression on us. Maybe the fact that we were not able to enter it played a role, but once again, the charm possessed by Kotor simply seemed to be missing.

We managed to return back to Kotor just in time. It had started to drizzle and by the time we were done eating our home-cooked spaghetti on the patio, it had began to pour.

Hopefully the weather will be nicer in Croatia as the plan is to head to Dubrovnik tomorrow morning.

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Sarajevo & Mostar: More food, relaxation and frustrating tours

Our second morning in Sarajevo started with an attempt to wake up for the sunrise. Our alarm was set for 5am assuming that sunrise was closer to 6am. Unfortunately this assumption was based on our experience in Istanbul and failed to take into account the 1 hour time change. We managed to hike across town and up a hill arriving at about 7am, so two hours after sunrise. However, the view was still gorgeous and it was nice to see the city slowly come to life.
After descending back into the streets of the old town, we spent a few hours in a café people watching and relaxing. We followed up by lunch and a tour of the Sarajevo History Museum with its touching exhibit of photos and items from the civil war.

After that it was time to catch a train for Mostar. Again the scenery that we drove through was simply amazing. As the train meandered along mountain ridges, high above valleys on both our sides, we lost count of the number of tunnels that we had to go through. While it remained light outside there was really not much point to sitting down, as every few minutes we would jump up to the window pointing out yet another gorgeous view.

Mostar was one of the most devastated cities in Bosnia following the war. By 1995 it resembled Dresden after WWII with all of its bridges destroyed and all but one of its 27 Ottoman era mosques utterly ruined. As such there is a stark contrast between the quaint cobblestone streets filled with endless millhouse restaurants and trinket sellers and the ruined buildings still lining many of the side streets.

Mostar’s chief attraction is the “Stari Most” or old bridge. The original survived 427 years including both world wars, but was eventually destroyed November 1993 by Bosnian-Croat artillery. It has since been rebuilt and forms a picturesque arc over the turquoise waters of the fast flowing river Neretva River and the medieval towers on either side of the bank.

We spent a day wandering these cobblestone streets and then headed towards what had only a decade earlier constituted the front line. There we managed to climb up the remainders of a staircase in a multistory bank that served as a sniper nest throughout the war. The building was completely gutted with parts of it burned out, all the windows blown out and much of it devastated by bombing and shelling. I think the photos speak for themselves. What was most amazing to me was that a mere meter or so from this building life continued as normal. As I ascended the windowless stairwell I could look into the apartments of the people living next door: I saw their tables set for lunch, the laundry hanging out the window, the things cooking on their stove. The scars were ever present and to them a constant reminder every time they looked out their window, yet life continued.

Our following day was to be spent with a much raved about tour of the countryside. Our hostel was ran by the fabulous Majda and her brother, Bata, organized these tours that everyone seemed to praise everywhere from Sarajevo down to Dubrovnik. The tour was to start at 10:30 am and to go until about 10:00pm if not later and was to take in the major sites in the vicinity including Medugorje (a pilgrimage site where the Holy Virgin apparently spoke to six local teenagers in 1981), the Kravice Waterfalls, Pocitelj fortress and Blagaj with its Dervish House.
Bata turned out to be an over-the-top, crazy, insane Bosnian. He was loud, did not stop with the rapid-fire jokes and puns and was simply a Bosnian reincarnation of Robin Williams on speed. As entertaining as this was for the first half hour it got a bit tiring when you had 19 people crammed into a cargo van that should officially have seated 10 or 12 people. Add to this his insistence to drive the van to the beat of the music, jerking on the gas and breaks respectively, blaring Serbian Turbo Folk music at absolute max with a subwoofer right under our seats making any kind of conversation with your sandwiched neighbor absolutely impossible and his determination to keep us all awake by swerving the vehicle from side to side tossing us against one another, the 14 hour tour without air-conditioning more closely resembled a nightmare than a highlight. I’m not quite sure how but others were surprised that we did not enjoy it, especially since some of them had done it three times already (at 25 Euro per tour where a vehicle rental for the day might have cost a maximum 50 Euro divided between the number of passengers). As informative as Bata was the tour simply dragged on and could easily have been completed in 6 hours.

The waterfall was a very miniature version of Iguacu Falls in Argentina/Brazil, quite pretty but not quite breathtaking. The fortress at Pocitelj offered spectacular views but we weren’t even given the opportunity of walking down to the base of the mountain to visit the mosque. The Dervish House at Blagaj was amazingly located, at the foot of soaring cliffs topped with the Herceg Stjepan Fortress and at the mouth of the Buna River emerging straight out of a gaping cave. However we arrived there when it had already become dark, were not given the opportunity to go into the Dervish House or to climb up the fortress. We arrived at the hostel just before midnight exhausted and disappointed vowing not to do any more tours on our trip.

From Mostar it was off by a 7am bus to Kotor, Montenegro. However, more about Kotor in a day or two after we have more to say about it aside for mere exultations on how beautiful it is.

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Bosnia and Herzegovina: Sarajevo

So if you think that the Sea-to-Sky Highway used to be narrow and windy, think again. The road between Belgrade and Sarajevo would have put it to shame. Our bus covered the distance of approximately 325km in just under 8 hours. The reason for this was twofold: firstly we seemed to be traveling through every small village possible; and secondly, once we crossed into BiH the road was so narrow and eternally S shaped, that there simply was no way to cover the distance any quicker. That last stretch of road was at the bottom of a valley with steep mountains on either side of a narrow one lane road (which in fact was a two lane road). Immediately to our left would be a giant green wall continuing seemingly eternally upwards, on the immediate right was a little mountain river with an equally giant green wall on its other side.

And once again I must admit that I have been taken completely by surprise. Just as I had certain preconceptions about the appearance of the Middle East, I also had a preconceived image in my mind about Sarajevo. This turned out to be completely false. I must say that I don’t think there are many capital cities that could compete with Sarajevo in terms of charm.

The guidebook describes Sarajevo as a cozy, vibrant capital whose humanity, wonderful café scene, attractive contours and East-meets-West ambiance are increasingly making it a favorite summer traveler destination. This description is definitely accurate. The green hills rise out almost from the very center of the city. There are virtually no high-rise buildings, no office center. Instead, the hills are spotted with little white houses with red shingled roofs with an occasional minaret interspersed amongst them. It feels like a cross of an Austrian alpine town with a Muslim accent. Half of the center is in a European Austro-Hungarian style and the other half with more of a Turkish character.

The very recent turbulent history is evident on almost every step. Although many buildings have been rebuild and there are very few completely destroyed buildings left, there is no shortage of shelled walls. In the outskirts of the city nearly all blocks and buildings are dotted with bullet holes and holes from the artillery shells that hit them. Many have patched up sections where bricks were used to fill in the larger holes or to rebuild parts of the walls. Other buildings still contain numerous apartments that remain deserted, burnt out during the war or destroyed to such an extent that there was little to save.

For some further info, please check out the following couple of links. The first is a compilation of documentary footage from the war put together to "Crazy" by Seal. The second is a website with photographs from throughout the war. There are various albums on the website all with amazing shots. The photo that is linked to directly entitled Novo Sarajevo shows the building in which we were hosted. Dario lives, and at time time of the war, lived in the building on the left on the 9th floor.

We spent the day roaming the old town and the many pedestrian streets. However, our sightseeing was primarily contained to a two block radius filled with fanatic cafes and restaurants. We started with a traditional Bosnian lunch comprised of cevapi. From there we walked about 20 meters to another restaurant for some delicious Sarajevsko pivo. Feeling too guilty to simply move over to the seats on our right we decided to walk around the block and came back to a third restaurant for some fantastic Bosnian ice cream. From there we went on to meet up with Dario, our amazing CS host and with him swung by a fruit market where we stocked up on strawberries, bananas and apples only to proceed home and make another trip to a bakery for some bread. At least we made up for it by walking up the 9 flights of stairs.

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Serbia: Belgrade

From Bucharest we headed by a 13 hour night train to Belgrade. Finding our seat on the train was an adventure in itself. We couldn’t sort out the car numbers, but when we found our seat numbers, we figured we were in the right place. When the conductor came by she started pointing us down the corridor towards the next car. So we continued our journey with the giant bags occasionally hitting a few of the seated passengers over the head and stopped two cars down at seats that again contained our numbers. This didn’t last long since when the conductor came by again we were informed that we had to keep on going. Moving from a semi new car to a rickety old one we thought we had the right spot only to be informed that no, we should continue on further. On second thought the conductor took pity on us and indicated that since this part of the train is nearly empty we should stay where we are and make ourselves comfortable.

We did exactly that. Our compartment had two cushioned benches running along either side. Paulina stretched out on one and Julita and I on the other. After about ½ an hour Julita decided that the floor would be more comfortable and took out her rain poncho, stretching it out on the floor, pulled out her sleeping bag and proceeded to fall asleep on the floor of our compartment.

This comfort lasted until about 2am when they decided to turn on the heating. The vents must have been directly under the benches as both Paulina and I were getting roasted alive and all the hot air was blowing directly onto Julita. There truly was no helping it. We opened the window in our compartment as much as possible; opened the compartment door to have some breeze; and opened every window in the corridor. Yet we continued to roast. Finally at around 4am someone must have realized that a trainload of roasted passengers is not the best way to cross a border and the heat was turned off.

We arrived in Belgrade semi-refreshed and were greeted by Ray, our next couchsurfing host.
Belgrade proved to be a much nicer capital city than Bucharest. It was much smaller, had a pleasant old town, quaint pedestrian streets, nice citadel, beautiful government buildings, an amazing Orthodox cathedral as well as some fantastic food.

I think the highlight of our visit was our dinner at the Little Bay restaurant. This restaurant is designed as a small opera house, with our table being located in one of the balcony booths. Normally, every day of the week there is live opera performances. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us, on Sundays this only takes place during lunch. As such we had to make do with fantastic three course meal and opera music from the sound system. It has been a long time since I had a meal like that: artichoke and mushroom salad, shrimp and avocado salad, stuffed sweet peppers, duck with vegetables, cheesecake and some fantastic Serbian wine. You can’t go wrong when the bill comes out to a mere $25CAD per person.

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Bulgaria: Country with the weird alphabet but fantastic food

We’ve now spent a couple days in Veliko Tarnovo, a quaint little town in the heart of Bulgaria located on the steep banks of the meandering Yantra River. The region is fantastic for day trips, hikes and rock climbing, but all these activities are weather dependant and unfortunately for us, our luck for sunshine has run out.

We are being hosted by three young and incredibly energetic guys who took us out for some delicious Bulgarian food and drinks. Today we spent the day wandering the town and hiking the local mountains while trying to hide from the rain and wind. However, with the weather not cooperating, there is not much to do and as such we will be bidding VT and Bulgaria goodbye and heading to Bucharest tomorrow morning.

It’s unfortunate since it does seem like a fantastic and picturesque country plus the food is absolutely delicious and dirt cheap. Our dinner last night, including an incredibly filling traditional Bulgarian dish, a large bottle of beer and some shots of the local Bulgarian liquor (Rakia) came out to an amazing $7CAD per person. You can get most main courses for anywhere between 4 and 10 lev ($3 – 7).

On a slight side note, we are still getting used to how quite Bulgaria is in comparison to Turkey and especially Istanbul. It is often advantageous to travel in the off season as you avoid the crowds, generally have cheaper prices and never have to worry about tracking down accommodations. The downside of it is that most places you visit are like ghost towns. The hike we did today was one such example. It took us to a nearby picturesque village filled with cafés, restaurants and hotels. This would have been quite pleasant if they had been opened, but when they’re closed, all we could do was walk around and come back home (hitchhiking with the very first car that passed us).

Other than that, there is not much to add. We will write again when we have our next internet connection.

PS: When trying to get hold of our Couchsurfing host and having no luck with the local pay phone I approached a girl sitting at the station seeing that she had a cell. I asked if she spoke English, she nodded her head so I proceeded to explain my predicament and was absolutely stunned when I got completely ignored with absolutely no response. Only later did it sink in that the up-down nod in Bulgaria is a "NO" whereas the side-to-side shake is a "YES". Take my word for it, it takes some getting used to. Our hosts did the same a number of times, each time resulting in the same confused expressions on our part.

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Sozopol: Our first true European stop

We arrived yesterday in Sozopol, a little coast town on the Black Sea, absolutely exhausted. It was the perfect place to rest up and relax and an ideal first stop in a new chapter of this journey. The Middle East and Turkey, as fascinating and enjoyable as they were, have now been left behind. I breathed another sigh of relief, welcoming the more familiar and less exotic scenery.

Sozopol, according to our guidebook, is a little town with a population of 4650 located on a jutting peninsula in the south of Bulgaria. In the early morning hours of our arrival, the population seemed to have been closer to 100 than nearly 5000. Having wandered through the entire town I could have counted on my fingers the amount of people I came across. The absolute quietness gave this cobblestoned town with its century old wooden houses an eerie yet peaceful feel and if not for needing to find some form of accommodations, the quietness would have been a welcome change after Istanbul.

Even in the afternoon the town did not become much livelier. We stumbled on a handful of tourists around some corners; there would be the elderly grandpa doing some gardening in front of his home; a grandma heading back with a small bag of groceries from the corner store; some kids playing in the streets or some men repairing the boats in the small port. But there were no crowds. Most of the stores remained closed, most bars and cafes were empty and the beaches were virtually desolate.

The town was nevertheless pleasant. It would have made a great summer retreat and we suspect that most of the population total is comprised of families who simply have summer apartments in the town but in reality live elsewhere.

In all respects, there could not have been a starker contrast between our previous days: the crowds were gone, the five time daily call to prayer was no longer to be heard; the skyline was free of all minarets; there were no bazaars; there was no hassling or haggling; communication was virtually limited to Bulgarian and not the plethora of languages spoken by most in Istanbul; the alphabet had reverted not to the indecipherable Arabic squiggles, but nevertheless to an equally indecipherable Cyrillic; and most importantly the feel had changed: the town was truly European as was the countryside.

We spent the day soaking all this in with the intentions of catching a 6am bus to Veliko Tarnovo. Unfortunately it proved impossible to get the girls out of bed on time and we opted for the later 1:30am connection.

Now at 2pm I’m sitting in the bus, looking out over gentle rolling green hills occasionally dotted with orchards and pastures. White fluffy clouds dot the crystal clear blue sky throwing moving shadows over the hills. Julita said that the town reminded her of Poland, and in a way she’s right. Both the towns and the countryside have that Eastern European feel to them. They are little villages where life’s requirements are simply the necessities of life. It is not to say that time has stood still here contrary to the impression I got in Cappadocia, but anyone who has lived in Poland or traveled through these little Eastern European towns, will immediately know the character which I’m now trying and failing to describe. Although France and Germany might have such little towns and similar countryside, there is something a bit different about them.

Funnily enough Julita says she doesn’t like it, I, on the other hand, feel at home. Even the Bulgarian is at times sounding an awful lot like Polish. Now if only I could master their alphabet, I might choose to stay here longer.

PS: On an odd note, at dinner in Sozopol we watched the sun set over the water. In the morning I sat on the beach in Sozopol watching the sun rise over the Black Sea. Go figure.

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