Bratislava: Ghost-town.

Bratislava is small, empty, historic, eclectic and just a wee bit boring.

From Bratislava Castle.

In Europe, there are some heavywieght cities. Rome, Paris and London are Metropolises. Amsterdam, Berlin and Barcelona and cultural hubs. Bratislava is not a heavyweight or a cultural hub, but, god love it, it has a go anyway. There are art exhibitions in the street, old town sights with accompanying legends and cafes with massive outdoor dining areas; unfortunately, no-one is paying attention to the art, the legends are mildly uninteresting and the cafes are empty. In fact, I couldn’t get over just how quiet Bratislava was. The streets were mostly empty during my visit. The real action was outside the city at monuments, sights and wineries, where I got to know a more exciting Slovakia.

Night-time in the main square.

Sometimes when I explain things the I do when I’m travelling to the people I love I feel a bit silly. Like some of the things are a bit too crazy to be true. This was one of those occasions. On my travel day I had breakfast in Slovenia, lunch in Austria and dinner in Slovakia. See? ridiculous. Especially for an Australian who could drive for 20+ hours and still be in Australia (or the ocean, depending on the direction I tried). The Austrian stop was the small city of Graz, famously the birthplace of the world’s most famous Austrian, the Terminator, Arnie; but also a really lovely place in its own right. There was only enough time for schitzel and strudel before getting back on the road to Bratislava. Upon arrival we set out to explore the city by night. My first taste of the city was that same emptiness. There was simply no-one around. Massive outdoor dining areas were barren. The streets were quiet of all but a few people wandering around. When I got up in the morning to explore some more, it was the same story. No-one on the roads, or walking around the old town, no-one stopping cafes for a coffee before work, an outdoor art exhibition with no viewers, empty squares and public spaces. It was a bit sad, really. I’m not sure if that is what it is always like, but there was no atmosphere.

Main square by day.

As I mentioned before, getting out of the city is the best way to enjoy Bratislava and Slovakia, so we embarked on a day trip all around the area. The day included a trip to the sight of the old ‘Iron curtain’, the border between Slovakia and Austria. As Winston Churchill famously stated, the borders between East and West “From Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic” had fallen to communism and now sat behind an Iron Curtain. Here there is a memorial to those who lost their lives trying to escape, right next to a set of children’s play equipment. Probably symptomatic of the need to move on after such oppression. Now, you can stand on a bridge and be standing in two countries at once (I love that sort of stuff!) and play and ride your bike along the paths that cross in and out of both, now borderless countries with ease. Very unlike the old days.

Iron curtain monument.

From there we went to the ruins of Devin castle. Built in the 860s, it was an important strategic location as its owner could control passing traders. During the Cold War it was the front line of the Eastern Bloc. The castle is quite well preserved considering its age and location. You can climb to the lookout and see the confluence of the Danube and Morava rivers. Here, I hijacked a kids’ medieval learning centre and learnt all about money and trade, got to dress up in Medieval gear like swords and shields and stopped short before getting out the bow and arrow for a bit of archery. Why? Because I noticed that the people who I was with were not being half as silly as I was! Oh well.

Castle ruins at the confluence of the Danube and Morovia rivers.

In the afternoon we visited the TV tower for amazing views into 4 countries and food, went to the communist monument (I don’t care what you have to say about politics, but those communists sure know how to make a monument), Bratislava castle which is perched on the hill above the city and a real-life WWII bunker that now houses a military museum of sorts. The bunker was definitely a highlight, a group of locals have restored the bunker (mostly) and filled it with real historical items from the era. The evening was time for Slovakian wine tasting. We went to a lovely local winery. I even enjoyed the red wine and port. Scene missing.

The bunker.

I haven’t discussed accommodation much in this blog, mostly because my blog is not an ad and because if I want to vent I can do it where people will actually read it on hostelworld.com; but I feel this one warrants a mention. I stayed for the first time on a botel. That’s right, not quite a boat, not quite a hotel; its a little bit of both. Our noble vessel is permanently docked on the banks the beautiful blue Danube. The current is quick around these parts, but the strong mooring means you don’t feel even the slightest rock when you’re inside.

Bo-tels on the Danube.

So it would seem the best way to enjoy Bratislava is to leave Bratislava and enjoy the action outside the town.

Lake Bled: cakes and views.

Lake Bled is beautiful, quiet, relaxed, stunning and quite possibly one of the prettiest places I’ve seen.

Lake Bled.

Don’t get me wrong, I love big cities. I feel at home in them, I like the grime, the noise, the mayhem, the arts, culture and history. But, sometimes Europe can feel like one big city after another. They are wonderful places, but they need to be broken up so they can be fully appreciated. So when I saw the opportunity to visit Lake Bled, I took it. And I am so glad I did. The place looks like it should be a piece of art, a post card and a tourism dream. It is so beautiful.

Bled from above.

Arriving in Bled on a sunny afternoon was the perfect way to see it. The sun glistened on the water and the almost-cloudless sky framed the cliff-top castle beautifully; It was pretty as a picture. Have you ever taken a picture of something and thought “no, that doesn’t capture it at all! It’s much prettier/bigger/more interesting than that!”? Well, I don’t think I got any photos that will do Bled justice. You’ll see them in this post and on my Slovenia page, but I really am unsure if I was able to show just how beautiful the place is.

Bled Castle and the Julian Alps.

Activities in Bled are outdoorsy, so I aimed to do as many walks, boat rides and hikes as I could cram in. I began by riding a chairlift up to a glorious viewpoint of the lake. Here idiot tourists like me get a shot of them jumping high in the air over Bled. But how to get down? Here there is a crazy luge track with twists, turns and drops to navigate. Kids streak through the course with impressive speed and old ladies ride the break all the way down. I found that my ride to the bottom was somewhere in between. This was super fun and I certainly let out a few little squeals on the crazy corners and quick drops. I also took the time to walk around the lake (about 8 ks) and watch some local rowers competing for a spot on the Slovenian Olympic team. Besides my hectic trip down the side of the mountain, there is no rushing in Bled. The walk around the lake could be more accurately defined as a stroll and even the stand-up paddle-boarders in the lake seemed to be taking it easy. Sitting on the banks with your feet in the water watching the friendly swans (in white of course), eating cakes in small cafes. Europe is a crowded place. There are people and travellers, tourists and holiday-makers everywhere. It makes sense, there is so much to see and do here. For some reason, not too many people were in Bled while I was. I’m not sure if that is a symptom of shoulder-season or the fact that this little gem is a secret of Europe, either way, escaping the crowds, the lining up and managing to get some photos without a million strangers in them was refreshing!

Chairlift up, luge down.

I also took the time to visit some sights around the town. In the grand tradition of devotion in Europe, the church is on a remote island in the middle of the lake called Pletna. You can pay a few Euro to a captain who will row you out in his noble vessel (mine was called Sonja). From here you can climb up to the church and its tower and wander around the gardens. The legend tells of a woman who cast the golden bells of the church tower to honour her dead husband. People come to the island today to pray to St. Mary, take selfies from the viewpoint and to eat cake from the cafe.

Pletna Island.

Speaking of cake, this entry would not be complete without talking about my favourite part of Bled. Cream cakes. Kremna Rezina. Not quite a vanilla slice, not quite a custard tart, but all delicious. These are a speciality specific to the area of Bled. They are available in most cafes in town, I went to two (purely for comparison, of course). One who claimed to have the original recipe from the 1950s and another who made no bold claims, but matched the original in creaminess and pastry flakiness. I think by now you all know I love food and have a bit of a sweet tooth, but even I found these a bit rich. I would have been happy with one half the size, but those generous Slovenians wouldn’t have it any other way. So of course I had to finish.

I love you, Bled Cake.

My escape to Bled was so relaxing. I adored the vistas of Bled’s lake, I enjoyed my strolls around the lake’s edge and of course, as expected I loved stuffing myself with delicious Cream Cakes. All in relative peace.

Day tripping: Ljubljana.

My first taste of Slovenia was its charming capital city. Ljubljana is artsy, funky and very pretty. It has all the classic European elements, the castle on the hill with great views, an old town filled with boutiques and little stores; but there is a little more to like here. The sun was shining down on us on this day so the visit was made all the more pleasant.

From the Castle.

Sundays in Europe are as notorious as Mondays. On Sunday there are no shops open, on Monday, no museums. It seems to throw a spanner in my plans every week without fail. As my trip to Ljubljana on the way to Bled was on a Sunday, I thought it was to be a quiet afternoon. Not so. Everyone is sitting around having a coffee, visiting food markets, riding the funicular (as I did) to the castle and having more coffee up there. The atmosphere is social and buzzing from the fancy restaurants of the waterfront to the hipster cafes of the back-streets. Everyone was out; local families and teens, delightful older tourist couples and tour groups. There were a lot of people in the city centre, but there was never a claustrophobic or overwhelming feeling like there is so often in touristy cities. It just felt like a vibrant place with lots to do and see. Maybe this is down to the attitude of the people. No-one was rushing or too worried about anything except finding a place to sit and relax with a coffee.

Bridges.

My afternoon in Ljubljana was about doing my favourite thing: wandering. Put me anywhere and I’ll just wander. I won’t really know where I am going, but I’ll go anyway. I won’t be too sure of how I’ve gotten to a spot, but that isn’t a problem either. I hope when I get home I can continue to wander and enjoy it as much as I do here. I feel I have become some sort of expert in it. I suppose I should be after doing it all across Europe for the past 6 months, but I digress. I enjoyed meandering all around Ljubljana. From the three bridges on to the dragon bridge, up to the castle, to the fountain and to the park, from the market to graffiti-filled alleyways (which I explored with much interest). I covered plenty of ground; walking from one side of the city to the other in only a few short hours.

Dragon Bridge.

One thing I did notice on my wanderings was a few strange menus. A burger bar had beef, chicken and horse for sale. Now, I know any vegetarian or vegan will tell me how hypocritical it is for me to eat one animal and turn my nose up at eating another; but I think horse is a bridge too far and a quietly forgot about my promise to say yes to everything when walked past the store and went to buy the safe option of noodles a few doors down.

 

The Castle.

So I guess that’s why there’s not to much concrete stuff to report from this visit. Besides sounding like a hippy or Denis Denuto and saying that I loved the ‘vibe’, there isn’t much else to say. A lovely day trip.

Zagreb: Back in Euroland.

Zagreb is vibrant, relaxed, clean, youthful and quirky.

From the top of the funicular.

My trip around Croatia has focused on its coast of beautiful islands and old towns like Dubrovnik, Split and Korcula. Making it to the capital was like stepping back into Europe. Away from the famous beaches and sunshine and into a not-so-big and vibrant city.

Ban Jelačić Square.

This place doesn’t feel like Eastern Europe. The old communist apartment blocks of New Zagreb sit on the outskirts of town, the main street is still named in honour of everyone’s best pal, Tito, as they have in all of the former Yugoslav cities I have visited, but in the centre of town it was more of a European feel. I know that sounds strange. I haven’t actually left Europe for the whole 6 months I’ve been away from home. Even at my farthest Eastern points, Bulgaria and Romania are still EU countries. The Austrian influence is strong here. Hapsburg yellow buildings, old cobbled streets, statues of men on horses and churches. It’s nice to be back.

Dressed up and going somewhere.

Zagreb is a youthful city. Students fill cafes drinking coffee and market stalls fill town squares. Artists display their modern and interesting work on easels on the streets. Music pumps out of stand alone speakers. The place is pumping and the action is out on the street. When the sun goes down people fill the streets in cafes, bars and restaurants. There was a big concert in the main square and people were every where. Laughing and talking loudly over a coffee or a beer. People are celebrating everywhere. I saw 6 separate weddings  going on in one square on Saturday afternoon. There was even a guy dressed as one of the Seven Dwarves hanging out trying to get people’s attention. We spent our night at a brewery with big plates of food and dark ales. Then on to a store that specialises in 6 different types of brownies. Zagreb is a fun place to be.

‘Street’ art.

Zagreb is most proud about its funicular railway. 65 meters in height and much slower tha just walking up the stairs beside it, its quite a funny place. I think Zagreb needs to change its focus. For me, the real highlight of this place was The Museum of Broken Relationships. This museum is dedicated to items that people have donated to signify the breakdowns of relationships. The range from the hilarious, like a toaster that has been labelled with ‘ha! I took your toaster. How are you going to toast bread now?’ to the devastating, like suicide notes and positive heroin tests. People have donated these items from all over the world and they all represent relationships that last hours to decades. I loved the highly personal aspect of this place. It is normal to mourn the loss of a relationship but often, people are not given the public space to do so. Here in the museum, there is that space. I think it may be one of the best (and quirkiest) museums I have been to on the whole trip and perhaps even ever.

The Museum of Broken Relationships.

Another short entry. My whirlwind trip through Zagreb meant I did not get to spend as much time here as I would like, however, the place has certainly charmed me with its combination youthful vigour and easy coolness.

Croatia Sailing.

This entry is particularity hard to write. Not just because most of the week that I cruised from Dubrovnik to Split there was a fair bit of booze flowing, but because it’s hard to tell this story. It is too personal for this blog. It is too full of in-jokes that no-one will really get, but will still make me smile in the years to come.

Our noble vessel.

I genuinely have great affection for everyone I met on that boat. I was so afraid I would be stuck with a bunch of people who I didn’t want to be for a week bobbing around in the Adriatic. Fortunately it turns out they are people with humour, vigour and spirit; the type of people I like to be around. We laughed, often. and I know it sounds cliché to say, but after a week, we were a family.

An early morning dip.

So, I could write about: “you go girl”. Sad Jack. Daphne. The game of life. Raves in Caves. Crazy girl dance floor antics. OSB vs YSB. Serenading strangers with Whitney. Being smowesome. Keeva. Ricky Gervais. Ciko’s playlist on repeat. hugs. Gaudi. Chopping it. Scavenger hunts gone wrong. Inbox. C-strings. Low water. Dos Locos. Boom Booms. ‘quiet’ nights. Being ‘obnoxious’. Out of control canoes. Dance-floor tears. Bike hire. Love-fests. Tiesto. Pirate parties, engagement parties, birthday parties and failed pirate weddings. Poorly attended breakfasts. Campbelltown. speeches, (so many speeches). Green-light Milly the baby bear. Crazy scales. Not swimming in the port. The list goes on.

Classic Croatia.

Instead, I can say all the places we visited were gorgeous. (SEE ABOVE!)

Our first stop was in Mljet National park that had gorgeous salt water lake and greenery. We continued on to Korcula, a mini-Dubrovnik walled city with lots of back-streets to explore. Then it was on to Hvar, playground for the rich and famous and where we took part in a tasting at a local winery. After that we had a fun day of water-sports at Makarska. I went Para-sailing, which was so much fun and something I had never done before. Then we had a day in Omis, where we climbed up to a mountain top fortress. Before our final stop in Split with its amazing Roman palace ruins. An amazing week. Croatia’s Islands are a beautiful place. But this trip was made all the better by the company I kept.

Sunset at Omis.

I loved my days in the boat. Every day had the same 4 components: swimming, lying in the sun, exploring and partying, but every day it was different and there was a new story to tell and a few push ups to do (sorry, another in-joke slipped in there) So, this 7 days worth is actually the shortest entry in my whole blog so far; but it is also one of the best parts of my trip too. I love you, OSB. We destroyed that scavenger hunt too.

Dubrovnik: more than Tyrion’s place.

Dubrovnik is beautiful, clean, expensive, a tourist mecca and a great place to nerd out.

Dubrovnik and Lokrum.

My last stop on my 3 months around the Balkans was to be Croatia. My Croatian adventure begins in the walled city of Dubrovnik, a gorgeous step back in time that is the real ‘King’s Landing’ from Game of Thrones. Like Brasov, I had first seen Dubrovnik on The Amazing Race, but it was in my research that fell in love with the idea of the place. It seemed to have been created by the very gods of tourism. I had built it up in my head and I was a bit concerned that it wouldn’t live up to my lofty expectations. Luckily for me, Dubrovnik is one of the nicest places I have visited, not without its faults; but fun, full of things to do and lots of sights to see.

The main square.

I walked the city walls for great views over the city and the sea. I caught a ferry out to the island of Lokrum. The island was lush and green, filled with peacocks, forts and nudist beaches (no, I did not partake). I sat on the cliff-tops for a drink. I lay on ‘the beach’ on slabs of concrete to catch some sun before a dip into the crystal clear waters of the Adriatic. I got great views from high above the city as I walked its walls. I got lost in the back-streets. I wandered up and down the hundreds and hundreds of stairs. I visited old forts. I explored an amazing and moving War Photo museum to get the Croatian piece of my Balkan war puzzle. I people watched. I ate the freshest seafood. It was gorgeous. Dubrovnik is a place you want to visit and stay in. I had 4 days here, which is much more than a place its size would usually get, but it was worth it.

A swim at Lokrum.

But like I said, the paces is not without its faults. It is expensive, often unreasonably so, and the crowds are horrendous. I quickly learned the expense of Dubrovnik while trying to book a hostel. The average was triple the price I have been paying in the region. When I arrived it was a similar story, expensive food, day trips and tours were the norm. I found ways around the expense through a lovely cheap bakery that a quickly became a regular at and picking up food at the supermarket,but when I was inside the walls of old town, it was stupidly expensive. Even after stints in cities like Paris, Rome and Barcelona these prices made me blush. Again, this is a tourist city, only 800 people live inside the walls of the famous old town. By day the streets are filled with tour groups coming in off the huge cruise ships that line the port, by night the young backpackers take over filling out the Irish pub and clubs that fill holes in the city walls. One day I tried to enter the Pile Gate, which is a small door at the front of the city. There was pushing and shoving, umbrellas in eyes, yelling and general rudeness from the most delightful little old people from the cruise ships. it was then that I knew Dubrovnik was serious business.

Walking the walls.

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I am a nerd and I love little more than having fan girl moments. Dubrovnik is King’s Landing. You know, where Tyrion lives. I was so excited to see where one of my favourite shows was filmed. When I walked through the gate it felt like a step back in time. High stone walls, white paved streets, statues and intricate archways. Yes, I forked out for the Game of Thrones tour. I couldn’t leave without doing it. A walking tour through the city where I followed an amusing man with screen shots of the series and a few tasty tid-bits about filming. This was quite a funny experience. The crowd ohh-ed and ahh-ed when he said things like ‘Joffery stood over there’, they took photos next to objects that they saw on the screen shots like lanterns and our guide shoo-ed away eavesdroppers while hiding his precious screenshots. Yes, of course, the cost of the tour was much more than it should have been for what it was. But when I stood where Sansa did, saw where the purple wedding was held, and posed as The Hound in a cheesy tourist shot, I too was genuinely excited.

Littlefinger V Cersei.

In the grand tradition of this blog I seem to always need to discuss the weather, or as a new friend of mine called it ‘the great flood of Dubrovnik’. Of my four days in Dubrovnik two were glorious sunshine, one was grey and overcast and one was the most intense rain I have seen on the trip. I’ve said it before, rain is traveller kryptonite, but in this instance it led me to a lovely moment with some locals that I won’t forget. I was cowering under some shelter on the side of a restaurant, hoping the rain would slow down. when a woman opened the door to let me and a fellow traveller inside. I though this was lovely and we stood out the back of the restaurant with the workers having a smoke break. Then the women emerged with a tray of fresh, hot brownies and we ate them with the staff. She must have known the way to my heart is through my stomach.

A grey day in the back-streets.

Dubrovnik is so many things, and despite a hole in my budget I did not intend on, I had an amazing time frolicking in the water, learning, wandering, eating brownies and pretending I was looking for my dragons in the house of the undying.

Kotor: A great base.

Kotor is beautiful, quiet, chilled out, fortified the perfect place to explore Montenegro from.

The Bay of Kotor.

Over the last few days I have used the gorgeous Montenergrin town of Kotor as a base for exploring the country of Montenegro. When I was originally planning this trip, Montenegro never came into my mind. That’s one of the reasons I have loved these last few months of wandering around Eastern Europe and the Balkans. I have planned as I went, a few extra days here? Sure! Heading in another direction? Why not! It has been liberating and for a person who is prone to be addicted to organising, a welcome relief.

Bay of Kotor.

Montenegro, meaning ‘black mountains’, is a small country. the population doesn’t even crack one million people. The cities and towns are not on the scale that I have come to expect in Europe. However, that is not the draw of this place. Montenegro is beautiful: mountains, canyons, rivers, forests, bays, beautiful views and some of the best scenery I have seen on this whole trip.

Kotor.

As I mentioned, my base was the small fortress town of Kotor. Here the contrast between old and new is prominent, but charming. The enclosed old town is built behind high fortified walls, with a moat. outside of these walls are expensive yachts the bob up and down and the towering fjords of the bay. inside the walls it was reminded a lot of the charming cobbled streets of Italy. All my favourite things, the stone walls, window boxes, shutters, winding alley ways and, of course, the stray cats (some so friendly they will jump on your knee if you sit for longer than 5 seconds). Above the old town is a towering mountain. perched on top of that is the old fortress, which is the highlight of the town. Climbing up the fortress will cost you 3 Euro, but not if you’re a resourceful backpacker. if you walk outside of the city walls you’ll find a goat path that leads up to a woman’s kitchen where you can drink home-made rakjia or pomegranate juice or chow down on bread and cheese. Just for the record, I went for the pomegranate juice. The view from her patio is spectacular and it was a great place to rest my unfit bones that had just scaled a mountain. From here you can sneak across and enter the fortress from a hole in the wall and continue the climb to the top. Up here, the view is even more amazing. the climb down is actually hard. the pathway is rocky and slippery. so I’m glad I didn’t climb up it. Other than that in Kotor I wandered, went to the cat museum, meandered and walked the city walls. Inside the walls this is very much a tourist town, so local interactions were only really with the awesome staff at the hostel and the team who took us on the day trips who were funny, charming and silly. I like the Montenegrin sense of humour. Kotor is a comfortable day trip, but I’m glad I stayed here a few days, because that meant I was able to see even more of Montenegro.

Streets of Kotor.

The hostel offered two trips across Montenegro which I was able to take. By doing this I have seen a big chunk of the country without the hassle of moving from hostel to hostel and catching public busses. Maybe as I am getting further into this trip, I am a sucker for convenience at a decent price. The first trip journey up north to Durmitor National Park. On this day, we crossed from one side of the country to the other to see turquoise lakes, giant mountains, deep canyons, pine tree forests and winding rivers. The drive took us from Kotor, to party town Budva, through the forests and windy roads around the mountain ranges. We saw the Morača River canyon which is over 1000 metres deep. Nearby there is a quiet monastery that sits in the mountains. It was so peaceful here and Orthodox priests in robes wandered around tending to the garden and the water supply. After Monastery Morača we visited the Djurdjevića Tara Bridge. The bridge is gorgeous, is over 350m long and it stands 150m above the Tara river. So of course this is the perfect place for a zip line. This was amazing fun. I ‘flew’ from one side of the canyon to the other, past the bridge and mountains and over the river and trees. I’m so glad I did this. take off was a bit scary, but from there the view was magnificent. We also ventured to Crno Jezero (known as the Black Lake) for a hike. This place was so beautiful it was like being inside a postcard. the water is turquoise blue on the edge and black in the middle, the mountains surround the water covered in pine trees. The day we were here was rainy and misty, which only added to the mystique. Unfortunately for me, I had clearly done too much fun and adventurous stuff that day so I took a tumble on the hike down the rocks and almost into the water. I have huge bruises on my legs and arms and I’ve pulled a muscle where I tried to grab the rocks to stop myself falling. It seems I should remember how unadventurous I actually am and not extend myself! Seriously though, it was a great day and the sights were amazing.

I zip-lined over that!

The second day trip went through central Montenegro. Again, the landscapes were simply stunning, but it was not the thick pine forests and canyons here; it was soaring rocky mountains and winding roads. We stayed a short while in Lovcen National Park to visit the Mausoleum of national hero and writer, Njegosh. But the important thing here is not the man’s grave, it is the stunning view across the whole national park that people come here for. In fact, I didn’t even go inside the crypt; I spent my time enjoying the view that went all the way to Albania. As it often is, one of the highlights for me today was the food. Firstly, we visited a village famous for its smoked ham called “prshuta” as well as smoked goat cheese; served on two thick slices of sour dough, it was simple, but amazing food. We washed it down with some not-so-delicious rakjia and oh-so- delicious home-made honey wine. Secondly we had amazing fresh fish caught that morning from the river by the restaurant. All amazing and quite cheap too. From there we stopped in at the old capital of Cetinje where we wandered the streets and visited a monastery. Sorry if I sound nonchalant about that monastery, but our new stop eclipsed most of the monasteries I’ve ever been to. Ostrog Monastery is a pilgrimage site for believers of Orthodox Confession and for Catholics and Muslims as well. It is carved in the cliff in mountain Byelopavlichi by St. Basil of Ostrog in 17th century, the most notable Montenegrin saint. His bones are kept inside the chapel, which is actually a small cave. They are considered a relic, a sacred item, and are said to have healing powers. I walked into the room where the bones are kept. They are covered by an embroidered gold blanket and many pilgrims kiss the bones. I felt quite awkward at this point, not because of the kissing of bones, but because I felt I had no right to be there as a non-believer. I shuffled around the cave and when I was told to approach I sort of backed away. it wasn’t that I didn’t feel welcome, it was that I felt like a fake being there. I have been to a lot of religious sights on this trip, but I have not felt this way before. it was very strange. When you climb to the top of the Monastery there is a beautiful view (are you sensing a theme?) over the Byelopavlichi plain. From the monastery we finished the day at Lake Skadar is the largest lake in the Balkan Peninsula, which of course was, you guessed it, beautiful to look at. Our driver on this day was a proud Montenegrin who had a talent for mix tapes. When he found out I was Australian he pulled out a CD and winked at me, saying, “you’ll like this”, after a lot of rock ballads, on came Midnight Oil, Savage Garden and Natalie Imbruglia. I was like being home, but in the 90s.

Lovcen.

I have really enjoyed bouncing from one side of Montenegro to the other, mainly because everywhere you look is towering mountains, impossibly deep canyons, turquoise rivers, lush National Parks, cliff-face monasteries and dense forests. Maybe I should have called this entry ‘Montenegro: always a beautiful view’.

Mostar: Rain or shine.

Mostar is busy, touristy, beautiful, postcards and totally dependent on the weather.

Mostar and its famous bridge.

What is the secret to tourism success in Europe? After spending the last 5 and a half months visiting some of the most popular tourist destinations in the world, I think I have figured it out. Firstly, a well preserved old town will give your city charm and history. Fill those old buildings with restaurants and souvenir shops and you’ve got a decent money spinner too. Secondly, a picturesque setting will get visitors rolling in, mountains, rivers and lakes help. Finally having at least one sight that is a ‘must see’, something that people will journey to your town to see without knowing much else. In short, history, looks and fame will bring the tourists in. In Mostar, south east in Bosnia and Herzegovina (actually, in the Herzegovina part) the tourists are well and truly here, me included, in droves.

A rainy day in Old Town.

After an easy bus from Sarajevo through more amazing mountains and forests, I arrived in Mostar on a very wet and rainy afternoon. As you all well know, rain is travelling kryptonite. It ruins all plans to meander, wander and dawdle through towns. On day one here, it rained so heavily. I was soaked to my socks and it made for an entirely unpleasant experience. I spent some time in a gallery filled with photos of war time by New Zealand photographer James Mason. I hid in cafes and drank tea and ate Baklava. I looked extensively at souvenirs I had no intention of purchasing. I sat in the hostel and read. visited churches and mosques. All to get out of the rain. The next day, the sun was shining brightly and it was a whole new experience. I walked up and down the cobbled streets and crossed the famous bridge over and over. The town itself is beautiful, like a postcard. Couples canoodle around every corner. The water of the river is a deep and beautiful blue, mosques, churches and old buildings stand on the water’s edge and mountains loom in the background. Obviously, this is much more enjoyable when the rain stays away.

Hiding from the rain.

Like my time in Sarajevo, the war was never to far from my consciousness. Everything in the old town is rebuilt and tourists are funnelled away from the bombed-out buildings. When I walked away from old town and the bullet holes are prominent, craters in the pavement are obvious grenades and many buildings are empty except for rubble and the plants that have grown through the floor over the last 20 years.  There is much more damage here than I saw in Sarajevo. There is no money to repair the damage and there is so much to fix. Many buildings have signs warning passers-by that they are highly dangerous. Look inside and you’ll find signs around the city remind you to ‘not to forget ’93’. Much like Sarajevo, it was devastating. The old town itself appears untouched, but, economically this was an important area to fix first. People’s houses can have shrapnel holes, the charming old town and tourist mecca can not.

Shrapnel holes.

In my blogs I often discuss the people I meet along the way; locals, backpackers and lovely old ladies from Chicago at train stations. I have to say, I am over half way and I have had so few bad experiences with people that I feel very lucky. The famed Parisian rudeness was nowhere to be found, people often approach me to help if I look lost (which I often do) and I have seen so many acts of kindness that I am kind of awestruck by how helpful people can be. This story, however, is a little different. It would be naive of me to think all people are good and kind, I was approached by a young man while I was walking around the town in the rain. He was interested in me, but he was quite pushy about it. He wanted to know my name, where I was staying, who I was with and what I was doing that evening. I laughed off his pushiness, told him I had a partner and hoped the matter would be settled. He continued to follow me. In fact, being such a small town, he found me several times over the next few hours and day with the same questions and, to be honest, the same intimidating tactics. In our last ‘chance encounter’ he told me I was rude.  I do not understand how I am the rude one for refusing his advances and politely telling him I have a partner whom I love very much. I really hate that intimidation and him feeling that because he asked he should receive (so to speak). The best part of the story is that I was spending time with a Spanish girl from my hostel. He walked past us in the street, she said “that guy I asked me out this morning”, I said “that guy asked me out this afternoon”. We laughed. Hard. Obviously a class act.

Minaret by night.

But this city is all about the bridge. Mostar sells itself on the bridge. Luckily for them, the thing looks magnificent. This is Mostar’s must see. Built in the 16th century, destroyed in 1993, rebuilt and reopened in 2004 and now an icon; the bridge is the reason many people come here. Mostar’s young men jump the 20 metres off the bridge in an annual competition during mid-summer, but Mostar’s young entrepreneurs collect cash from tourists who want to see someone jump any day of the year. It is quite spectacular to see. Beautifully constructed, on a grand scale and simply gorgeous. I found myself spending a lot of time at the bridge. Finding exciting angles to take photos from, looking out over the city and river from it, listening to the hypnotic vocal rounds of the call to prayer pump out from the mosques from it, enjoying some solitude on it at night when the day-trippers had been bundled on to their buses and left the place a ghost town and crossing it time and time and time again. The bridge is the centre of any Mostar experience.

A jumper.

Mostar has found the secret to tourism success, now if only it could control the weather.

Sarajevo: yet to heal.

Sarajevo is devastating, wounded, disenchanted, impoverished, but somehow, an utterly charming place.

Sarajevo and the mountains from The White Fortress.

The capital city of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Sarajevo is a cosmopolitan city of many religions and races set in a valley with towering mountains all around. They say that Sarajevo captured the attention of the world 3 times in the past century. Firstly, when a terrorist group assassinated the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his pregnant wife which was said to be ‘the spark’ that led to World War I. Secondly, during the 1984 Winter Olympics. And thirdly, during the war here in the early to mid-90s, when those religions and races who had lived together turned on each other and those beautiful mountains became a source of fear and terror. The Archduke and his wife have a little plaque to commemorate them; souvenirs of the games can be purchased, but the Olympic sites mostly lay in ruins; and the war is a constant cloud that hangs over the city. During my visit, there was no way to escape the realities of what happened here. They are horrible and upsetting. Somehow, through all of that, there is still so much to like about this city, its people and its admirable resolve.

The plaque to commemorate Archduke Franz Ferdinand.

After an 8 hour drive, my bus from Novi Sad rolled in to the East of the city the scale and beauty of the place became evident. The houses clung to the side of the mountains, seemingly hundreds of minarets poked up from the valley below, the lights twinkled and I thought it was one of the most spectacular views I’d ever seen. (this of course inspired me to get out and climb those hills later on and view the valley below from the yellow and white fortresses that used to protect the town) The bus came in and I was greeted by my new host. My WWOOFing host was a former resident of Sarajevo and she very kindly organised for me to stay with her friend and her friend’s daughter. This was most certainly my favourite part of staying here. I stayed in an apartment in a suburb called Dobrinjia, which felt like a lovely, welcoming home for me. Hostels are great; you meet many wonderful people, but there is something to be said for being a guest in someone’s home. I organised the finer details my stay with the daughter, as my WWOOFing host’s friend and I don’t speak the same language. I was all set to go when the daughter informed me that she wouldn’t be there for a couple of days. I was worried. How would I live in a house with someone I couldn’t speak to? Luckily, I’ve learned that you don’t need to be able to speak to someone to show them warmth and kindness. I have been shown nothing but that (and maybe some occasional light-hearted teasing) during my stay here. Those couple of days we were alone were full of colourful hi-jinx. We could barely understand each other, but for some reason it was not frustrating. We even organised to meet on her lunch break without being able to talk to each other: time, place, everything was covered. We spent so much time laughing. We walked around the city laughing, we ate Cevapi and we laughed. I locked myself out (twice) and we laughed. We couldn’t stop ourselves. I don’t think I’ve ever made a friend with someone I couldn’t talk to, but I have here and it’s such a special feeling. The daughter returned, bemused by the in-jokes we had formed without language, which made us laugh even more.

Sarajevo from The Yellow Fortress.

The city was just a bus ride away and I spent most of my time wandering around the streets and enjoying the fact that you can walk from one side of this cosy city to the other. ‘Meeting of cultures’ is written on the pavement as you cross from one area of town into the other. This doesn’t actually describe it. It’s more like crossing borders and finding yourself in a whole new country. Sarajevo was a part of the Ottoman Empire, so the old town and the Muslim neighbourhoods in the hills or ‘Mahala’, look like they belong in Turkey or the Middle East. The library, now town hall is a beautiful building designed in the Moorish style. Despite being destroyed during the siege, the rebuild is stunning, inside and out and is filled with the intricate painting, stained glass and arches of the Ottomans. There is also a house from the 15th century that has been maintained. ‘Svrzo’s house’ was owned by the most influential family in Sarajevo and is now kept as an example of Ottoman architecture and lifestyle. Sarajevo was also a part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, so some of the buildings like the Fine Arts Academy and the university are reminiscent of the grand buildings of Western Europe. Statues, roses and many other types of decorations adorn the facades. Of course, Sarajevo was also a part of the former Yugoslavia, so there are also the infamous concrete blocks with a nice layer of grime on them to remind you of the city’s communist past. Unfortunately, the other thing that stands out about the buildings is the damage. Bullet holes, shrapnel marks and fire damage are evident on a very large number of buildings in all corners of the city. The people don’t leave them as a reminder, the do it because there is not enough money to make repairs. As you walk around the town this damage is everywhere, from the walls to the pavement. There are even some buildings that have been completely gutted that still stand in the city centre with trees growing out of them and shooting up towards the hole where the roof used to be.

The Town Hall.

So, as you can imagine, with all of this damage and evidence of war still prominent throughout the city, it is hard for the people of Sarajevo to not be reminded of what happened. There are also many who live without loved ones and with injuries they will not recover from. These reminders of the longest siege in modern warfare (some 1,425 days) exist everywhere and because it only happened 20 years ago it is still fresh in the mind of residents. Although no claim to fame, the largest cemetery in Europe is here. Memorials and tributes are in expected places like the local parks and on the sides of buildings, but are also in market places and on the pavement. Things are commemorated on the spot they happened on here. ‘Sarajevo Rose’ is the name given to a special type of memorial that can be found throughout the city. Shrapnel holes are filled in with red resin to commemorate the person who died on the spot. There are so many; which makes them all the more upsetting.

A ‘Rose’,

In part, these memorials encouraged me to learn more about the siege. As I mentioned in my blog about Belgrade, I found many Serbian people and guides quite closed off to discussing the war and their role in it. I had a few conversations with people in the village about what happened, but even after a few rakijas, they weren’t too forthcoming. In Sarajevo, this has not been the case. I suppose telling your story is different for people who see themselves as victims. I went to a museum and gallery with information about the siege as well as going on a mini tour to ‘Tunel Sapska’ (The tunnel of hope) with a Bosnian ex-police officer. ‘The Siege’ exhibition was a good overview of the events of the war in Sarajevo, most of the information was given very factually. Gallery 11/07/95 is a permanent photography exhibition showing the works of photographer Tarik Samarah. Samarah took photos of the aftermath of the Srebrenica genocide where over 8300 Muslim Men and boys (confirmed numbers, hundreds more are still ‘missing’) were murdered in a small town in East Bosnia. Accompanying this was a short film and a guided tour of the gallery to explain each of the images. A temporary exhibition of photographs of the siege was also held there and the short film ‘Miss Sarajevo’. Now, I make no secrets of the fact that I am a massive sook. As I get older and slowly morph into my mother, it has become harder for me to deal with emotions internally. So crying here was not unexpected for me. But when I saw the big Aussie ‘bloke’ wiping away a few tears and the young French woman sitting next to me during the film sobbing, I knew that it wasn’t just me being over-emotional again, this place was simply devastating. No other word captures it. As I mentioned, I also went on a mini tour to the tunnel that was built under the airport runway to bring vital supplies, medicine and food to the people living in the war-zone. At the museum you can walk through a section of the tunnel, watch a video of it in use and learn more how people lived during the siege. This was fascinating and slightly more positive than the other exhibitions I had been to, because it was about resilience and ingenuity. The people taking action to save themselves and their loved ones. But of course, many aspects of the guide’s story were just as upsetting as they were his stories about his friends and his life in shambles. In addition to this, my hosts were able to speak openly and honestly about the war, which I appreciated deeply considering that they lost so much while it raged. The common theme for the people that I spoke to here is a distrust of politicians and the need for reconciliation, but mostly the need of financial security and work. The country has over 40% unemployment and that is what most locals wanted to discuss.

Inside the Tunnel of Hope.

To think that this city is just about the past is a mistake. It would be remiss of me to not mention the thing that I have loved most about my days wandering around Sarajevo – the food. I ate a lot of cevapi, delicious little sausages (similar to a kofta) with mince and spices, served in a flat bread with onion and a thick, creamy cheese called kajmak. Bureks are on sale on many street corners. Hearty soups and stews are a staple too. Everybody is out and about and socialising at all times of the day. The streets here are always busy, the park at the source of the Bosna river is full of life and both are full with friends meeting up for a coffee. The atmosphere is vibrant, fun and social. I was told in Sarajevo people ask “what have you been doing today? or have you just been drinking coffee?” I love that.

Cevapi!

Sarajevo is a complex place. I hope one day it can catch the attention of the world once again, but for something positive. There really is a lot to like about the place.