A Green River and a Horse Hamburger, Ljubljana, Slovenia May 12,13
--12
After devouring one last kebab at the Budapest train station, I get on the train and head off to Ljubljana. What is supposed to be a pleasant night ride through the countryside of Hungary and Austria, turns into an unpleasant night sleeping in a train station somewhere in Austria. What is supposed to be a good night sleep on a comfortable bed in a dark train car, turns into a terrible night sleep in a hard chair with bright lights (the ones that buzz with the abundance of electricity running through them). Finally and luckily, what is supposed to be a solo journey, turns into a journey with friends.
Through no fault of our own we (myself, a Canadian, and two Bosnian girls) miss our train connection in Austria because the first train gets into the station late. Upon learning that the next train leaves in the morning, our only choice is to wait the night out in the empty cold train station. I learn that the three are traveling together. The two girls from Bosnia fled to Canada during the war, now they are returning to do some traveling in their home country. Interesting folks.
I arrive to an old city with a green river running through it. People are outside enjoying the weather under terraces and umbrellas that line the river. Colorful artwork (read: graffiti) is splashed around some of the historic buildings and a castle sits on top of the hill above the city. I like this place.
--13
I decide to wander around the city for the day. The only thing on my itinerary is to get a horse hamburger for lunch. I learn that there's a reason why most people eat cows instead of horses (except India of course). Don't get me wrong it is delicious, but not as good as the beef variety.
I climb up the mountain to see the castle just for the hell of it. It probably sounds ridiculous but even mid-evil castles get old when you see them almost everyday. Great view from the top though.
Great day...off to Bovec.
Nature At Last, Bovec and the Julian Alps, Slovenia May 14,15
--14
After waking up, I walk over to the large glass door and swing it open to reveal a beautiful early summer day in the Julian Alps. A warm breeze blows into the room. Looking out, I see the mountains rising from all directions, white at the top and green everywhere else. I start the day off debating whether to go mountain biking, hiking, or paragliding in the alps. Not the worst problem in the world to work out on a Monday morning, I know. I'm glad to be out of the cities though. There's something about them that suck the life out you ever so slowly. Getting out into nature, especially the ridiculously untouched variety that exist here is refreshing.
With a bit of hesitation over the cost of paragliding and the uncertainty of where to rent a mountain bike leaves me walking. I learn from the man at the front desk that there are hiking trails all around the town marked by sign posts. The best one, he tells me, starts at the church so off I go. Late Spring/early summer here is incredible. Wildflowers grow in large fields in the valley, the air smells like watermelon (literally), and the sun is just warm enough to counter the cool breeze. The church bells ring every hour and ring through the valley. It's a place where you feel bad about throwing a banana peal on the side of the road.
I pass by small cottages with gardens starting to grow, mountain streams with crystal clear water, and friendly people who say hello to me in Slovenian. I move a snake off one of the mountain roads so it doesn't get run over, and kick a large rock off the road that has fallen down from above. My good deeds are done for the day. I pass by a turquoise lake in the woods, and sit on a bench to enjoy the scenery. On the way back to the hotel, I buy some strawberries from a local guy on the street. They are bright red and so sweet adding sugar to them would have made them inedible. This place reminds me of New Zealand a little.
Back at the hotel I relax for awhile and do some internetting. I then decide to go out and do some more exploring. This time I head down by the river. The water is so clear and green that it looks fake. Thirsty, I walk down to the water and drink some. It tastes like melted snow. The church bells ring through the valley again. On the way back I meet a local girl walking her dog; a big black lab. The dog sees me and stops and sits down waiting for me to walk up to the best of the girls pulling. Good dog! I say hello and walk back to town with the girl and Ari. She tells me I came at a good time since there are not many tourists here yet. She recommends a good restaurant and shows me the way. We part ways.
After walking around all day my feet hurt. I do however, make the decision to go paragliding tomorrow. The scenery from the sky must be quite nice.
15---
After waking again to an open window and a warm mountain breeze, I decide to spend the sunny day mountain biking to the top of the highest mountain pass in Slovenia, then going paragliding in the evening when the winds are calm. It is a good decision.
I rent a quality bike from the bike shop and head out on the open road. I chat with the woman for awhile and she offers these parting words: "good luck and tell Zep I said hello. It's a tough ride but you'll enjoy it." Zep is one of the resident para-gliders, and the one who is going to take me up later. I set out on the open road with my phone/camera/GPS and an apple for lunch. I figure I an get water at the river along the way. I love the idea of just stopping by the river for a drink. The water comes straight from the mountains so it's cleaner than tap water. As I ride down the road, I pass little farms, green pastures with wildflowers, a couple bridge crossings with the river, churches, and small towns. The mountains are ever present above. There's a certain feeling of freedom, peace, and solitude riding out into the unknown on a nice day, wind blowing through your hair. It reminded me of this Irish saying:
Back in the town, I return the bike just in time to meet up with Zep. He is an older guy who speaks good English and I hop in the car with his girlfriend and dog. We drive off through the mountains and eventually stop at our landing zone to check the wind. If the wind it too fast it makes it difficult to land. It is perfect today though. We talk for awhile and the dog gets out and runs through the fields. Back in the van we ride to the top of the mountain pass. Upon arrival we meet up with 6 others who are jumping/riding that day. We end up hanging out for about 45 minutes to wait for the sun to descend to the proper spot. We all suit up and we watch a couple others run off first, then run off ourselves.
We fly around for almost 2 hours, catching thermals higher and higher then flying around to different parts of the valley. Zep informs me that we can see parts of Italy and Austria from up here. We actually have to watch out for the other riders. It's cool being able to watch them fly around with us in the valley. A couple of them have trick shoots so they can do spirals in the air. At one point we see some hawks in the valley with us. Zep tells me that there's no reason for them to be up this high. There's no food here. Perhaps, they are just having fun flying with us.
When the sun gets too low to catch any more thermals we head down into the valley to land. Zep yaks on one end of the controls and we go spiraling down into the valley. I actually had to close my eyes for a minute because it is dizzying. In the end though, the ground gets closer and closer and we have a perfect landing. We pack the shoot up and head back to town. Good times.
Broken Relationships, Zagreb, Croatia May 16 2012
Pushing out of Slovenia, I take a bus and train to the capital of Croatia. I arrive late in the day so time is of the essence. I find a hostel that is close to the bus station which happens to be unexpectedly awesome. It is brand new and the owner and I talk for awhile about the hostel business and Croatia in general. Being an expert hosteler now, I offer some advice;
-Make people take their shoes off. It makes it feel more relaxed like they are at home and keeps the place cleaner.
-Make sure to tell people to rate the hostel on hostelword.com. Many people get their information from there.
-Offer free breakfast, coffee, and tea.
-Make a big, central, comfortable communal area so people will come out of their rooms and hang out.
...I could go on.
Eventually I tell the owner that I'm going to hit the town for awhile and ask how much the tram tickets cost. His friend, who is sitting next to us, tells me that she got to the hostel without paying; just hopped on the tram. "Just don't bring your passport or ID, then they can't do anything to you if you get caught." I respond with a "How about I buy a 1 way ticket and don't scan it. If they ask, I'll just tell the tram worker that I forgot to scan it." "Yeah, yeah that's perfect" he shoots back. I only have one night so I picked something that seemed fun and different; The Museum of Broken Relationships it is. It won an award for the best museums in Europe. Sometimes you get tired of the same old art and history museums. As I walk in this is written on the main wall:
Whatever the motivation for donating personal belongings-be it sheer exhibitionism, therapeutic relief, or simple curiosity -people embrace the idea of exhibiting their love legacy as a sort of ritual, a solemn ceremony. Our societies oblige us with our marriages, funerals, and even graduation farewells, but deny us any formal recognition of the demise of a relationship, despite it's strong emotional effect. In the words of Roland Barthes in A Lovers Discourse "Every passion ultimately has its spectator... (there is) no amorous oblation without a final theater."
Cold Water and Warm Sun, Split, Croatia May 17,18 2012
Split is a coastal town on the Adriatic sea; an unusually bright blue body of water between Croatia and Italy. In fact, it's a little too blue. I stay in an old fort where the cobblestone pathways are polished to a smooth finish from the people walking over them for the last 1000 years. You literally don't even have to pick your feet up. I consult Google maps at one point to find the hostel, and it tells me that the hostel is in the middle of a square. Obviously Google maps doesn't work so well in medieval forts.
Upon arrival, I meet up with Ella, an old friend from England and no later do we head off to the crystal clear blue water to swimming with a couple Americans. We find the beach and climb over to some rocks. My suspicion that the water is cold turns out to be absolutely correct. In fact, it's so cold it reminds me of doing the Polar Bear Plunge in the middle of winter in Maryland. It takes your breath away. The fact that it's salty as hell is also odd because the water is so clear, you wouldn't expect it. While swimming back to the rock, I yell up to the other American that the water is "not that cold" as I struggle to breath. Haha, he'll find out soon enough that the rest of us didn't want to act like babies. We jump in a couple more times and decide to get some warm coffee on the beach.
Later that evening we go out to dinner and a bar to celebrate the anniversary of the hostel. It is really just a reason to go out and have a good time...not that we even needed a reason. At dinner the American guys decide to have a verbal sparring match. Two people who like to talk nonstop and impress others with their stories at the same table is a relentless. One tries to out do the other, one implies how rich he is, one how many girls he can get, and it turns into a scene where I (and the others) at the table just dissociate after awhile. It was like they were practicing on us, not actually enjoying the company.
It's an odd thing which happens after you meet people from different places, you almost don't want to meet other people from your own country. Ok, it's nice sometimes to just relax and talk to someone with much of the same background and general mindset. You already have a lot in common and don't have to work as hard to have a conversation, for example. Still, many people I talk to would rather not meet someone from their country. I think those who travel for extended periods of time like to think they are different than their country folk back home. To see someone from home takes this illusion away in many respects. Many people want to be the sole representatives from their country, to be the good American or Frenchman or Englishman. There's probably more to this, but I'll leave it at that for now.
We head off to the bar and find some distance. It's cozy, smoke filled, and fun. I meet a local guy a the bar who has obviously been there for awhile. Upon learning I'm American he proceeds to scoff and tell me jokes about America. I try to temper the "We're better than you and we know it" attitude some people walk around with. And it's not just Americans I might add. In the end I kind of ignore him and he proceeds to vie for our attention the rest of the time we are there. There's also a large dog walking around the crowded bar for some reason. We decide to move on.
Outside we meet two locals who we take a liking to. They are cool and take us on a tour down by the beach looking for an open club. It's off season so many of them are closed. We end up in a small local bar with doing shots of some local liquor. After a couple hours of revelry and good fun, we stagger back to the fort, our home. Night.
---
The next day Ella and I head out on the town. We eat at a dinner and have some Vegemite with bread. I've never had it before but apparently it is common in Australia. It's a salty yeasty concoction. It gives us the energy to go out exploring.
A Fortress by the Sea, Dubronik, Croatia May 19,20 2012
Dubrovnik is a tourism overload but a really cool town. There's a reason Mediterranean cruise ships let out boatloads of people here. It's because its an incredible city. The bright blue water which surrounds the fortress walls combined with the white stone buildings with orange clay roofs creates an incredible place. There's a reason Game of Thrones was shot here. A picture is worth a thousand words.
--12
After devouring one last kebab at the Budapest train station, I get on the train and head off to Ljubljana. What is supposed to be a pleasant night ride through the countryside of Hungary and Austria, turns into an unpleasant night sleeping in a train station somewhere in Austria. What is supposed to be a good night sleep on a comfortable bed in a dark train car, turns into a terrible night sleep in a hard chair with bright lights (the ones that buzz with the abundance of electricity running through them). Finally and luckily, what is supposed to be a solo journey, turns into a journey with friends.
Through no fault of our own we (myself, a Canadian, and two Bosnian girls) miss our train connection in Austria because the first train gets into the station late. Upon learning that the next train leaves in the morning, our only choice is to wait the night out in the empty cold train station. I learn that the three are traveling together. The two girls from Bosnia fled to Canada during the war, now they are returning to do some traveling in their home country. Interesting folks.
I arrive to an old city with a green river running through it. People are outside enjoying the weather under terraces and umbrellas that line the river. Colorful artwork (read: graffiti) is splashed around some of the historic buildings and a castle sits on top of the hill above the city. I like this place.
--13
I decide to wander around the city for the day. The only thing on my itinerary is to get a horse hamburger for lunch. I learn that there's a reason why most people eat cows instead of horses (except India of course). Don't get me wrong it is delicious, but not as good as the beef variety.
I climb up the mountain to see the castle just for the hell of it. It probably sounds ridiculous but even mid-evil castles get old when you see them almost everyday. Great view from the top though.
Great day...off to Bovec.
 |
View from castle |
Nature At Last, Bovec and the Julian Alps, Slovenia May 14,15
--14
After waking up, I walk over to the large glass door and swing it open to reveal a beautiful early summer day in the Julian Alps. A warm breeze blows into the room. Looking out, I see the mountains rising from all directions, white at the top and green everywhere else. I start the day off debating whether to go mountain biking, hiking, or paragliding in the alps. Not the worst problem in the world to work out on a Monday morning, I know. I'm glad to be out of the cities though. There's something about them that suck the life out you ever so slowly. Getting out into nature, especially the ridiculously untouched variety that exist here is refreshing.
With a bit of hesitation over the cost of paragliding and the uncertainty of where to rent a mountain bike leaves me walking. I learn from the man at the front desk that there are hiking trails all around the town marked by sign posts. The best one, he tells me, starts at the church so off I go. Late Spring/early summer here is incredible. Wildflowers grow in large fields in the valley, the air smells like watermelon (literally), and the sun is just warm enough to counter the cool breeze. The church bells ring every hour and ring through the valley. It's a place where you feel bad about throwing a banana peal on the side of the road.
I pass by small cottages with gardens starting to grow, mountain streams with crystal clear water, and friendly people who say hello to me in Slovenian. I move a snake off one of the mountain roads so it doesn't get run over, and kick a large rock off the road that has fallen down from above. My good deeds are done for the day. I pass by a turquoise lake in the woods, and sit on a bench to enjoy the scenery. On the way back to the hotel, I buy some strawberries from a local guy on the street. They are bright red and so sweet adding sugar to them would have made them inedible. This place reminds me of New Zealand a little.
Back at the hotel I relax for awhile and do some internetting. I then decide to go out and do some more exploring. This time I head down by the river. The water is so clear and green that it looks fake. Thirsty, I walk down to the water and drink some. It tastes like melted snow. The church bells ring through the valley again. On the way back I meet a local girl walking her dog; a big black lab. The dog sees me and stops and sits down waiting for me to walk up to the best of the girls pulling. Good dog! I say hello and walk back to town with the girl and Ari. She tells me I came at a good time since there are not many tourists here yet. She recommends a good restaurant and shows me the way. We part ways.
After walking around all day my feet hurt. I do however, make the decision to go paragliding tomorrow. The scenery from the sky must be quite nice.
15---
After waking again to an open window and a warm mountain breeze, I decide to spend the sunny day mountain biking to the top of the highest mountain pass in Slovenia, then going paragliding in the evening when the winds are calm. It is a good decision.
I rent a quality bike from the bike shop and head out on the open road. I chat with the woman for awhile and she offers these parting words: "good luck and tell Zep I said hello. It's a tough ride but you'll enjoy it." Zep is one of the resident para-gliders, and the one who is going to take me up later. I set out on the open road with my phone/camera/GPS and an apple for lunch. I figure I an get water at the river along the way. I love the idea of just stopping by the river for a drink. The water comes straight from the mountains so it's cleaner than tap water. As I ride down the road, I pass little farms, green pastures with wildflowers, a couple bridge crossings with the river, churches, and small towns. The mountains are ever present above. There's a certain feeling of freedom, peace, and solitude riding out into the unknown on a nice day, wind blowing through your hair. It reminded me of this Irish saying:
"May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, the rains fall soft upon your fields and, until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand."
I stop at an old church to rest for awhile and eat my apple. I see motorcycles racing past and experience a fleeting jealousy. Climbing a mountain on a bike is hard work, especially going in the up direction. Little did I know that for the next 25km that fleeting jealousy would become permanent. The mountain road became a series of steep switchbacks and walking was far easier than riding in most areas. Hours went by and my GPS told me the unfortunate truth that there is no way I would make it to the top in time. I did have to run off a mountain with a parachute attached to my back later in the day. I suppose in hindsight it is a bit foolish to try to bike the highest pass in the country...my ambition far exceeded my endurance.
Turning the bike around and blasting down the mountain road is the best part of the ride. In hindsight, I might have asked the woman at the bike shop to drive me to the top, so I could just enjoy the view and coast the whole way down the mountain. Next time. I kept a close watch on the brakes and in flat areas I took my hands off the handlebars and coasted with no hands. Ahhhh it was the best of times.
I stop at an old church to rest for awhile and eat my apple. I see motorcycles racing past and experience a fleeting jealousy. Climbing a mountain on a bike is hard work, especially going in the up direction. Little did I know that for the next 25km that fleeting jealousy would become permanent. The mountain road became a series of steep switchbacks and walking was far easier than riding in most areas. Hours went by and my GPS told me the unfortunate truth that there is no way I would make it to the top in time. I did have to run off a mountain with a parachute attached to my back later in the day. I suppose in hindsight it is a bit foolish to try to bike the highest pass in the country...my ambition far exceeded my endurance.
Turning the bike around and blasting down the mountain road is the best part of the ride. In hindsight, I might have asked the woman at the bike shop to drive me to the top, so I could just enjoy the view and coast the whole way down the mountain. Next time. I kept a close watch on the brakes and in flat areas I took my hands off the handlebars and coasted with no hands. Ahhhh it was the best of times.
Back in the town, I return the bike just in time to meet up with Zep. He is an older guy who speaks good English and I hop in the car with his girlfriend and dog. We drive off through the mountains and eventually stop at our landing zone to check the wind. If the wind it too fast it makes it difficult to land. It is perfect today though. We talk for awhile and the dog gets out and runs through the fields. Back in the van we ride to the top of the mountain pass. Upon arrival we meet up with 6 others who are jumping/riding that day. We end up hanging out for about 45 minutes to wait for the sun to descend to the proper spot. We all suit up and we watch a couple others run off first, then run off ourselves.
We fly around for almost 2 hours, catching thermals higher and higher then flying around to different parts of the valley. Zep informs me that we can see parts of Italy and Austria from up here. We actually have to watch out for the other riders. It's cool being able to watch them fly around with us in the valley. A couple of them have trick shoots so they can do spirals in the air. At one point we see some hawks in the valley with us. Zep tells me that there's no reason for them to be up this high. There's no food here. Perhaps, they are just having fun flying with us.
When the sun gets too low to catch any more thermals we head down into the valley to land. Zep yaks on one end of the controls and we go spiraling down into the valley. I actually had to close my eyes for a minute because it is dizzying. In the end though, the ground gets closer and closer and we have a perfect landing. We pack the shoot up and head back to town. Good times.
 |
| Sat here for awhile |
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| Saved her life, ask me about it. |
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| Paragliding in the Alps |
Broken Relationships, Zagreb, Croatia May 16 2012
Pushing out of Slovenia, I take a bus and train to the capital of Croatia. I arrive late in the day so time is of the essence. I find a hostel that is close to the bus station which happens to be unexpectedly awesome. It is brand new and the owner and I talk for awhile about the hostel business and Croatia in general. Being an expert hosteler now, I offer some advice;
-Make people take their shoes off. It makes it feel more relaxed like they are at home and keeps the place cleaner.
-Make sure to tell people to rate the hostel on hostelword.com. Many people get their information from there.
-Offer free breakfast, coffee, and tea.
-Make a big, central, comfortable communal area so people will come out of their rooms and hang out.
...I could go on.
Eventually I tell the owner that I'm going to hit the town for awhile and ask how much the tram tickets cost. His friend, who is sitting next to us, tells me that she got to the hostel without paying; just hopped on the tram. "Just don't bring your passport or ID, then they can't do anything to you if you get caught." I respond with a "How about I buy a 1 way ticket and don't scan it. If they ask, I'll just tell the tram worker that I forgot to scan it." "Yeah, yeah that's perfect" he shoots back. I only have one night so I picked something that seemed fun and different; The Museum of Broken Relationships it is. It won an award for the best museums in Europe. Sometimes you get tired of the same old art and history museums. As I walk in this is written on the main wall:
Whatever the motivation for donating personal belongings-be it sheer exhibitionism, therapeutic relief, or simple curiosity -people embrace the idea of exhibiting their love legacy as a sort of ritual, a solemn ceremony. Our societies oblige us with our marriages, funerals, and even graduation farewells, but deny us any formal recognition of the demise of a relationship, despite it's strong emotional effect. In the words of Roland Barthes in A Lovers Discourse "Every passion ultimately has its spectator... (there is) no amorous oblation without a final theater."
Cold Water and Warm Sun, Split, Croatia May 17,18 2012
Split is a coastal town on the Adriatic sea; an unusually bright blue body of water between Croatia and Italy. In fact, it's a little too blue. I stay in an old fort where the cobblestone pathways are polished to a smooth finish from the people walking over them for the last 1000 years. You literally don't even have to pick your feet up. I consult Google maps at one point to find the hostel, and it tells me that the hostel is in the middle of a square. Obviously Google maps doesn't work so well in medieval forts.
Upon arrival, I meet up with Ella, an old friend from England and no later do we head off to the crystal clear blue water to swimming with a couple Americans. We find the beach and climb over to some rocks. My suspicion that the water is cold turns out to be absolutely correct. In fact, it's so cold it reminds me of doing the Polar Bear Plunge in the middle of winter in Maryland. It takes your breath away. The fact that it's salty as hell is also odd because the water is so clear, you wouldn't expect it. While swimming back to the rock, I yell up to the other American that the water is "not that cold" as I struggle to breath. Haha, he'll find out soon enough that the rest of us didn't want to act like babies. We jump in a couple more times and decide to get some warm coffee on the beach.
Later that evening we go out to dinner and a bar to celebrate the anniversary of the hostel. It is really just a reason to go out and have a good time...not that we even needed a reason. At dinner the American guys decide to have a verbal sparring match. Two people who like to talk nonstop and impress others with their stories at the same table is a relentless. One tries to out do the other, one implies how rich he is, one how many girls he can get, and it turns into a scene where I (and the others) at the table just dissociate after awhile. It was like they were practicing on us, not actually enjoying the company.
It's an odd thing which happens after you meet people from different places, you almost don't want to meet other people from your own country. Ok, it's nice sometimes to just relax and talk to someone with much of the same background and general mindset. You already have a lot in common and don't have to work as hard to have a conversation, for example. Still, many people I talk to would rather not meet someone from their country. I think those who travel for extended periods of time like to think they are different than their country folk back home. To see someone from home takes this illusion away in many respects. Many people want to be the sole representatives from their country, to be the good American or Frenchman or Englishman. There's probably more to this, but I'll leave it at that for now.
We head off to the bar and find some distance. It's cozy, smoke filled, and fun. I meet a local guy a the bar who has obviously been there for awhile. Upon learning I'm American he proceeds to scoff and tell me jokes about America. I try to temper the "We're better than you and we know it" attitude some people walk around with. And it's not just Americans I might add. In the end I kind of ignore him and he proceeds to vie for our attention the rest of the time we are there. There's also a large dog walking around the crowded bar for some reason. We decide to move on.
Outside we meet two locals who we take a liking to. They are cool and take us on a tour down by the beach looking for an open club. It's off season so many of them are closed. We end up in a small local bar with doing shots of some local liquor. After a couple hours of revelry and good fun, we stagger back to the fort, our home. Night.
---
The next day Ella and I head out on the town. We eat at a dinner and have some Vegemite with bread. I've never had it before but apparently it is common in Australia. It's a salty yeasty concoction. It gives us the energy to go out exploring.
- We hike past the harbor to a park.
- We hike up to the top of a hill which provides good views of the city and the Adriatic sea.
- We meet an interesting local who we end up talking to for about an hour about Harry Krishna
- We find a giant wizard statue and rub his toe for good luck
- We hag out in a courtyard next to a giant cathedral in the fort and have a beer while listening to a guitar player at night
- We end the night getting ice cream and wandering through the medieval streets
 |
| The wizard! |
Dubrovnik is a tourism overload but a really cool town. There's a reason Mediterranean cruise ships let out boatloads of people here. It's because its an incredible city. The bright blue water which surrounds the fortress walls combined with the white stone buildings with orange clay roofs creates an incredible place. There's a reason Game of Thrones was shot here. A picture is worth a thousand words.
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| city from above |
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| street at night |
