The End of this Road

I started writing this a few days ago, and now I'm back in the states, waiting to take off on the last leg of the 14 hr journey today.  

   As I write this, I'm sitting in a farm yard in the south east part of Croatia. Far off the tourist trail.  Rick Steves doesn't even give this area a mention in his book.  Today, I was driving toward Zupanja, the last town on my trip's itinerary.  On the way, I meandered through a UNESCO world heritage "intangible treasure" area of this varied country.  I saw a sign for "Ekoturizam", guessed there were rooms for rent and stopped for the night.

  During this adventure, I've been in 3 countries in the Baltic region: Bosnia, Slovenia, and here in Croatia.  Plus, almost 3 weeks in my beloved Italy.  I got to practice my languages, and stretch myself by going to completely new places, which means: new money (3 different currencies), new languages, new rules, laws, architecture, religions, cultural norms, fashions, and personalities.  

     The region where I am now makes me think of the stories my grandma, Nana, told me when she returned from here some 40 years ago.    This inland area, still recovering from the ("stupid mistake") war 20 years ago reminds me of the feeling in the states 40 years ago.  I finally found my villages of clustered wooden houses, farmers with their sheep and chickens, and a slow, quiet lifestyle I've always dreamed existed in Croatia.  I'm staying in a dollhouse like place with geraniums hanging and sheep wandering through the yard helping to keep the grass down.  I'll have a breakfast of eggs fresh from the hen house and bacon that aged in the barn.  All this beauty, peace, and fulfillment of my dreams for $36.00 for the night!   

I'll be heading back to the states and directly to my classroom on Wednesday.  This summer will pass into memory, and those I love will be happy to see me and comment on my tan.  They'll ask me "How was your summer?" How, exactly, does one answer this question?  How do you explain to someone about walking on roads that are older than your country? 

 How can I convey the sound of the 3 piece combo that sang songs in 3 languages outside my window for tourists from all over the world in Dubrovnik? 

How can I tell them the exact color of the sea and the sunset in Brela - we don't have  a word for those colors. 

 What can I say that will pinpoint the exquisite taste of the best pizza ever?  (Surprisingly in the Istria {Croatia} town of Rovinj, not in Italy!)  I can think of myriad adjectives to explain this summer; unforgettable, a dream, indescribable, life changing.  But that tells you nothing.  

Starting with a week in Roma, revisiting my old haunts and brushing up on my Italian, I walked the Roman roads and ruins, stared in disbelief in the Pantheon, strolled the neighborhoods and churches to find the gelato and statues I remember.   Lots of fountains were waterless.  Many churches' statues were covered or removed, most of the center was devoid of Italians.  Yet, it was the best way to begin this summer's adventure.  I settled into my European self easily, taking off my "teacher" mantle and putting it away for awhile.  

My painting class was such a great experience.  I met folks from other English native language countries.  I practiced skills I haven't used in years.  I slept in the shade of umbrella pines and ate truffles found in the garden by the new puppy.  I got to be the student and it was a nice change.  I learned from Julian, my teacher, how to be a better teacher myself.  Success.

The Croatian coastal towns of Dubrovnik, Brela, Split and Rovinj all gave me the dose of seaside I crave all the time in our (mostly) land locked state.  The water was clear and cool, brushing the land in a repetitive, hypnotic rhythm that calmed and refreshed my soul.  

The big cities of Zagreb, Osijek, and Ljubljana (Slovenia) gave me the thrill of good foods, art nouveau buildings and people happy and eager to help while practicing their English. 

The nature of Croatia just blew me away...mountains, coastal beaches, heavy forests, water falling lakes, wide, lazy rivers,  islands large and small, rocky plains, and wide open fields of corn and sunflowers! I took as many "little roads" as possible just to see what was around the corner.  

I also experienced heart breaking sights.  There are many villages and towns that seem to be half missing.  Ruins that used to be family homes are now overgrown and caving in.  Many currently lived in places had gunshot (I assumed) holes in a spray pattern.  Some patched over, many not.  I could tell the places that had been repaired, they had new orange roof tiles.  I went into a church that had been repaired from more than 16 grenade hits.  I was asking the guide if the columns were granite, and he said "Yes, grenades."  Several people I talked to about the war sadly stated it was a huge mistake and they were sorry that the whole thing ever happened.  How could they not be sorry?  They turned the guns on their own neighbors for the sake of how they pray.  Tragic.  Nobody wins in a war.

The place I felt the most tension and fear was in Mostar, Bosnia.  That city is still full of resentment and suspicion.  There is a tenuous peace, but it feels strained, like everyone is walking around very carefully so as not to offend anyone or shake things up.  

Then there's here, the inland part where there is almost no American tourists.  This is where I feel the heart of Croatia. Where there's 100 year old wooden or hand made brick houses.  There's organic family farms and one lane roads, but that's wide enough because there isn't much traffic!  Where all the houses of the village face the road because all the land behind the houses is where they keep the livestock or grow the corn in neat manageable plots.  

The most impressive part of all of Croatia, however, is the people.  Those people who when I stopped to ask for help would lead me in their cars to where I needed to go.  Those folks who shared drinks with me because we had terrace space in common.  The friendly strangers who got goosebumps when I told them I came to their country because I wanted to see where my greatgrand parents were from.  I experienced so much joy and helpful kindness by these countrymen, it makes me feel proud to say that these are my people.  I was never treated like a random tourist (aside from the whole lodging thing in Dubrovnik), but as a friend they hadn't met yet.  

The sun is setting over the barn, and three kids on roller skates just rolled by being pulled by a tractor.  The mosquitos are out in force and the pace of this place is pulling me to my wooden bedroom and hand embroidered linen sheets.   All I can say is I am so grateful.  

This will probably be the last post of this blog until my next trip, but perhaps not...maybe I'll add little funny stories or beautiful pictures when I'm reminiscing. From the positive feedback, I think most folks have enjoyed reading the stories I shared this summer.  Thanks for reading.  Cheers and ciao, Christine

The whirlwind after the calm...

Last week, I had 4 quiet, peaceful days on the beach in Brela, Croatia, about halfway between Dubrovnik and Split.  The water was a beautiful color of blue and soooo clear, I could see the bottom more than 50 feet down.  I swam and floated and watched the clouds and the people, and meandered along the car free-seaside walk.  It was a beautiful few days.  I hade a "fish picnic" scheduled, but the weather turned rough on my last day, so it was cancelled.  I was perfectly happy to stay and play in the waves and paint.  

After bidding the sea farewell, I headed up the coast to Split, where I fought through the throngs of tourists.  It was culture shock!!  Having to step around people stopping to gawk, stopping short when others suddenly turned or looked at something on offer on the already crowded sidewalks.  Split is a very busy, modern city which began on an ancient nucleus.  

The Roman emperor Diocletian retired to this coast and built a modest retirement place for himself...

He died, Rome fell, the palace still stood.  After awhile, the local folks used the walls of his palace as a wall of their own homes - hey, one last wall to build, right?  So now there's old (medieval) buildings built into and onto the ancient walls of a columned, marble Roman palace.  There are shops in the basement and churches in the wings.  There's a baptistery in Diocleatian's temple to Venus (?) and bars put pillows on the low walls for their customers to sit and people watch while sipping high priced beverages that sweat in the heat.  

I opted for a one hour plane ride to Zagreb over an 8 hr. bus ride.  I was loathe to leave the seaside, but v. excited to get to Zagreb, because my mom, sister and Auntie Alice arrived two days later!  

Zagreb is the capital of Croatia.  I stayed in the old town area and wandered around looking at the buildings, going into churches and museums and stopping along the pedestrian streets for drinks and food and people watching.  

Most of the old town centers are car free zones and it makes it SO easy to be there and really observe the area.  One can stop and look around and check the map or take a picture without being buzzed by motorbikes or trucks.  Plus, it cuts down on the noise so sitting outside in cafes is pleasant, refreshing.  And, since the road is for people, the sidewalks can be for tables and chairs without squeezing out the pedestrians.  

Finally, the day came -August 2, and I went to the airport to pickup the three ladies!  Late flight, missed connection, long wait...finally 5 hrs late they arrived bleary eyed and ready to go to the zoo.  (Literally, Robin got off the plane and said "Let's go to the zoo!"). After changing money, potty stop, getting a map, and finally getting to the car, we opted out of the zoo because the trip to our first night's lodging 

was over an hour away and I didn't want to drive in unfamiliar territory without the benefit of daylight. (I rented us a car for the time they're here.  Such an expensive luxury!)  

Our first stop was in the north east of Croatia.  A town called  Verazdin is not on the main tourist trail yet and it was such a pleasure.  We were there on a lazy Sunday and almost had the quaint, easily walkable town to ourselves.  There's a castle that looks like a fortress, there are blocks of baroque buildings, there's the most interesting cemetery I've ever seen.  

Along the road, there are people selling the veggies out of their gardens.  We stopped at one and bought enough veggies for a tasty meal of salads, and corn - $6. We're not in the tourist area any more!  They were so happy to choose tomatoes, peppers and greens as fresh as it gets.  

Since they're only here for about 7 days and we've already booked our lodging for their whole trip, we've got a lot of ground to cover.  We spent yesterday morning in lake Bled in the mountains of northern Slovenia - yes, another country for us! We took a boat ride to the island where there's a church, and had a piece of the world famous custard cake.  

We spent a rainy evening walking around Ljubljana.  It's a fairy tale city of bridges, fancy architecture and young people.  We heard the organ in the Franciscan church, a trio (piano, violin, cello) concert in the city museum, and ate in the arched basement of a pub while waiting out the rain.  We even made a late night Mc Donald's run for coffee with milk.  That place was hopping at 10:00 on a Tuesday night. There were people sitting outside on the terrace, and loads of locals getting their Big Macs on! 

We're staying in an "Eco hotel".  It's a working farm where they raise horses and livestock, and among other things, make hemp products.  Here's the tags on the sheets. 

 

There's also hemp oil, shampoo and soap.  

They built this building using all renewable resources, sustainable heat and electricity, all the products are organic and I've had two very restful nights on those sheets! 

We're leaving right now for the coast of Croatia.  Rovinj is said to be a picturesque, stone walled town here in the north of Croatia. We'll spend two nights there, so hopefully, we won't have to drive anywhere tomorrow.  Maybe we'll just have a beach day.  

This week is flying yet, we're doing and seeing what's on their list:

 ice cream-check,

 Castle-check,

boat ride-check, 

classical concert- check,

Having a wonderful holiday-check! 

  

 

My Mecca

So today was the day I spent all day painting THE BRIDGE.  If you don't know, I'm in Mostar, Bosnia (county #5 for the summer).  This bridge is a reconstruction of the original bridge built in 1566.  That bridge fell into the water when it was bombed during the savage civil war that happened here in 1993-4.  It was built exactly the same, they even got the stone from the same quarry, but it's not the same, is it?  It's all shiny and new, not 400+ years old.  This bridge represents a connection between east (Muslim Mostar) and west (Christian Mostar).  There are again guys jumping off the apex for money, there are again hundreds of tourists daily that hold onto the railings while crossing the slippery, smooth stones. There are again lots of stalls selling exotic wares from Turkey and further east.  

Yet, there are still many many buildings that are riddled with bullet holes, roofs caved in, with signs saying "stay out".  I have walked past dozens of burned out shells of buildings that obviously had someone living in them until they got bombed.  

The first couple of days I was here, I could feel the sadness and anger in the atmosphere.  I didn't really want to go out into it, so I stayed in.  Then I decided, "Well, I'm here, this painting is the whole point of the trip, get out there and do it!"  

So, yesterday, I did a couple of studies, to get the angle right etc.   And today, since I'm leaving tomorrow, I brought a cushion, my paints, and not enough water to the riverside.  I let myself get distracted, I watched the jumpers and and jumpers in training,

 

I walked in the water (very cold), I talked to a couple of other tourists, I looked and looked for the just right angle, then there was nothing else to do but begin.  And before dark, I was finished.  

The angles aren't quite right and I could hear Julian (my teacher in Italy) saying, "I'm not convinced by the rocks yet." I kept fiddling, then I decided, stop! As I was walking to a restaurant, I stopped to admire another artist's work.  He asked me to show him my painting.  I did, although I was embarrassed.  He said, "You have to be proud, you're an artist!  I've painted 1000 pictures of that bridge, you're just beginning."  And I thanked him for reminding me.  

I'm relieved, really to have this finished.  Now, I can just play for the rest of my time here.  I will paint some more, I'm sure, as I've discovered I really enjoy it.  It's quieting and while I'm painting, my mind is peaceful and absorbed. 

While walking from my place to the bridge,  I've enjoyed looking at all the beautiful things for sale, pretty cheap here.  I've almost decided to buy a painted bowl.  I have all this money that I can't spend anywhere else!  

I only hesitate because pottery isn't the easiest to travel with, however, I tend to buy some everywhere I go...maybe a small pitcher.

Talk about east meets west, in one ear, there's this repetitive, strong beat, dance music.  In the other, there's a call to prayer from the mosque.  All this auditory stimulation is giving me a headache! 

So, tomorrow I'm headed to the beach for a few days.  I'll be staying in Brela, Croatia before making my way up the coast then inland to Zagreb, the capital of Croatia.  There, on August 2, I'll be picking up my mom, sister, and auntie Alice at the airport for a full week of travel and touring.  

I've just paid for dinner and I have some marks left...good thing I have to walk through the market to get home.  Time to head home and pack...I need to figure out where to pack a piece of pottery!

A (sort of) Croatian in Croatia

 After 3 lovely days with my Danish friend, Elizabeth, in Castagnetto Carducci on the coast of the Mediterranean, I'm now in Dubrovnik, Croatia.  I had a hard day of traveling yesterday - planes, trains, automobiles and even busses to arrive at this fairytale city at the golden hour.  

I got off the bus at the ancient gate through which world wide visitors have been pouring for centuries.  Immediately, a young woman came up to me and asked if I was looking for a room.  We negotiated a bit and I agreed to a room for the three nights I'll be here.  Simple, basic, expensive. She said there was wifi, there wasn't last night, but there is this morning.  She said it was a quiet room; it isn't, unless I shut the window (good thing there's a fan). She said the bathroom was private; it isn't, I share with the lady who lives here, who came into my room last night when I wasn't here. And woke me up this morning when she unlocked the door for some unknown reason. (She doesn't speak English either)

Quite a change from this: my beautiful room in the BnB in Castagnetto. Which included the beautiful breakfast and daily maid service.  

I can see just from this room that these folks have had some hard times, some might say Soviet times.  This room is perfectly functional.  It has all the basics.  Everything I need...and not one thing more.  They even took the sheet and pillow off the other bed after I picked which one I wanted to sleep on.  

While we were negotiating, she said it was in a good location, not a lot of stairs, near the church.  This is true...

This is my view...captivating, enchanting, the whole of the city walks right under my window.  Ok, can I just say, the sound of tourists on a bender in a city made of rocks just reverberates into any open window.  And, bars and clubs serving up loud music and cold beers stay open late here! So, it was not my most restful night of sleep last night.  I finally gave up this morning and shut the window when the church bells just went nuts around 7. 

Last night, after a dinner of "tuna pâté", mussels and fries, and wine, I went to a concert given by a nationally famous pianist, Andrea Padova.  It was given in a place called "Rector's Palace".  This building is a stone facade, of course, built around an open courtyard.  The steps, floors, wall, even the bannister holders are all stone.  I sat up in the loggia, on the wide stone benches between the columns.  It was magical watching and hearing such beautiful music waft up from the grand piano below.  When Dubrovnik was its own republic (middle ages -1880), this was the place where the mayor of the city, called the "rector" lived.  It was open to the public who came in and washed their clothes in the fountain in the courtyard and sat and gossiped.  (Picture of a picture)

This city was built on cash coming in from trade in salt, and other staples.  It rivaled Venice, and if it hadn't all been burned down in 1660's, it would look very much like Venice does today.  There's still a busy harbor, but today it's mostly trading in cruise ship parking and tourists going from the mainland to one island or another.  There's a LOT of tourists here.  I can see why.  It's a charming, car free city of white stone streets and buildings.  The locals all speak English very well and they charm you as you spend kuna after kuna.  5 kuna = $1, so something that's 100 kuna = $20. Easy math yet it sounds expensive when they tell you the price (and it is expensive- no eastern block pricing here).  

I got a bit choked up last night as I was walking down here with the girl who sold me this room.  She said this lady I'm renting from is her grandmother (I don't think she is).  Anyway,  I told her that I'm here because I remember my grandmother, Nana, telling me about this city and several others when she took a trip to Yugoslavia in the mid 70's. In fact, her stories about this place were the whole impetus for writing the grant in the first place.  I have always known that this region is someplace I've wanted to explore.  It's in my blood, this place.  People know how to pronounce my name here.  The couple of words I learned from a phrase book don't feel uncomfortable when I say them.  It feels comfortable.

Being here is literally a dream come true for me.  I'm going to go out and explore a bit more.  So far, I like what I see.