Split, Croatia: The Tall, Tan, Young, and Lovely

After my adventures in Zadar, all I really wanted to do was check into the hostel, find something to eat, and then take a nap in a room with A/C. Usually I hate to "abandon" a day, however, the second I stepped off the bus in Split I knew there was no day to be wasted. First, it was 1 million degrees. Celsius. My shoes burst into flames and burned clean off my feet as soon as I set foot on the asphalt. Yet, somehow, I was surrounded- no mauled- by an inescapable sea of Split denizens. First it was a battalion of people offering me accommodation, something I was in no way prepared for, and second came an endless onslaught of tourists pouring from Diocletian's Palace, or the ferries, or the buses, or the restaurants and bars, or some far flung all day/night booze cruise.

It was an absolute hive of activity; something my tender mind, body and soul was not prepared to endure. But I fought on, keeping my head down and squinting through the fractured beams of light, forging ahead through the steady waves of life which battered me with each passing breaker. When I emerged from the other side of the human sandstorm I felt like a hero, a goliath, the people's champion! I had walked two blocks. In this situation, to say that discouragement set in would stretch the word "discouragement" so far beyond its definition as to render it laughably ineffective for all further applications. I was crushed, defeated, ready to throw in the towel. And to top it off, I had no idea where my hostel was in this chaotic sea of humanity.

Luckily for me, an elderly woman sauntered up and verbally battered me into requesting her help which she provided free of charge. She kindly directed me to my destination or a reasonable facsimile thereabout. Why she was so eager to help me I'll never know. Perhaps she saw the desperation in my face. Perhaps my sorry countenance and burned feet were scaring the children. Whatever the case, as devastated as I was to have only found myself 2 blocks from the bus station, I was equally elated to discover I had a mere 3 more blocks of relatively pedestrian free street to cover before I could assuage my tattered being. I covered those three blocks faster than a hungry donkey with a carrot dangled in front of his face.

I've had some hit and miss hostel bookings in the past but I have to say, I dominated this one. To be fair, I did poll my international friends on facebook for their opinions but I made the final selection between 3 highly recommended places and booked the intimate Split Backpackers. This is only a 4 room 25 or so person hostel (contrast to some of the 400+ person mega hostels I've stayed in) that had A/C in every room, a cool little kitchen, and one of the most helpful hostel staff I've ever been around.

I was so excited to just chill out, but first thing's first- I needed some grub. I decided I would go to the first place I found and eat the first thing I saw. That happened to be a "fast food" (common term around the Balkans to mean burgers, pizza, kebabs, sandwiches, etc.) stand and what looked like half a sub roll topped with ham, cheese, and pickle. I bought it for about .60 euro and it turned out to be half a sub roll topped with ham, cheese, and pickle. You would be surprised how rarely that happens. Sated, the remainder of the afternoon was spent lounging around the hostel and collecting my wits for a one-day bashing of Split in the morning.

The main "attraction" in Split is the remnants of Diocletian's Palace. It was built for the retiring Roman emperor as a gift to himself for all of his hard years of service. In my mind the most interesting thing about the palace are the different phases it has undergone over the years. After it was abandoned by the Romans the surrounding citizens moved in and more or less adapted it to their purposes over the years. That includes adding fortifications, removing those fortifications, demolishing old buildings and constructing new residences, businesses, or whatever else the needs of the age dictated. These days the palace is a miss-mash mix of residences, shops, restaurants, ruins, museums, conservation projects, and probably the most notable element, the church and tower.

Also still visible is the old peristyle which led to Diocletian's quarters.

For a paltry fee you can, you guessed it, climb the tower where, you guessed it again, get some good pictures of the city. But... if you guessed that this is where the obligatory photo of yours truly was coming, WRONG! Tough luck, thanks for playing. Unfortunately the tower doesn't provide much window space for a good self-photo. But here's a nice shot of the Split bay area.

Probably the best place to get a nice shot of the tower and the interior of the palace is in the southeast corner where there are some open areas and no one has really attempted to build anything up. I think at some point they were going to put a shopping mall here and an underground parking garage or something but that was all protested into oblivion.

If you're as intelligent as I think you are, and I'm sure you are as why else would you be reading Wanderlust, you will come to the same conclusion I did. The coolest part of the palace is not what you can see above ground- it's what lies below. There is layer after layer of chambers, rooms, and passageways below the palace. A great example of these can be seen in the same southeast corner where an atrium provides a great cut-away view of the numerous levels.

Aside from seeing the former palace and dodging tourists like bullets in the Matrix, the best thing to do in Split (apart from the all night legendary cruises) is walking up the hill to the Marjan park. Actually, to be fair, I would be remiss if I didn't take a brief moment to mention the other main site to see in Split, nay all of Croatia, the Croatian women. They are stunning very much in all of the classical ways. Tall, tan, fit, and leggy- it reminded me of when the big fashion shows would come to NY, except these women are just living their lives. Even for a seasoned traveler, it was a bit surreal. Sorry, no series of creepy pictures- you'll have to go to Croatia and see for yourself (or google "Croatian women bikini" for example).

Back to the park. It was first developed under Diocletian as recreational space for himself and the thousands of minions it took to keep him in the lifestyle in which he had become accustomed. Because of the rugged terrain it was never developed as the city expanded and is now a representation of the Croatian wilderness and a symbol of pride in Split. Practically, it is an arid park, never moreso experienced than when you are soldiering up the hills through the sea of pines with the sun searing the top of your head. About half way through the massive park I gave up and sat on a bench to catch some rays. On the way down I got a great shot of Split from on high (really the main reason to come here).

After nearly drowning in tourists and sun it was time to repair to the hostel and accomplish some administrative tasks. While hanging out in the common room I met new friends Monica and Jocelyn from Australia who Mauthed me into agreeing to come on the infamous Tower Pub Crawl. I have to admit, it was a solid pub crawl- run by I think the same people who run the one in Prague. Similar program, unlimited time, then off to a few bars then clubs, etc.

This particular one they had a beer pong tournament and a Lan, a kiwi girl, and I finished third. Booyah! Also, this was the first one I've been on where they didn't "run out" or just not have any shirts. I got a very offensively Halloween-orange pub crawl t-shirt which I immediately converted into a makeshift bandana. For good measure, here is a funny shot of Joc, I, and some other awesome folks on the way to bar 2, bandana in full force.

At some point I took this picture of the group. It seemed innocuous at the time but check out the pair of glasses one of the guys is wearing. I crack up every time I look at this. No idea where he found those.

The next day Monica, Joc, and I awoke at the crack of 7:15-ish to go down and get ferry tickets. Let me just say, the ferry system is either the most backwardly organized enterprise in all of the Balkans or a complete sham. They won't let you buy a ticket to the ferry the day before. Seems odd, but alright. The first lady told me to get to the kiosk to buy my ticket between 9-9:30am for the 11:30am ferry. Wait, what? Why so early? The second lady (at the actual kiosk) said between 8:30-9am. A girl at the hostel said 8-8:30 and the guy at the front desk of the hostel said 7:30-8. Every time I asked someone else it got earlier and earlier! By the end of the night I was planning to go straight from the bar!

Anyway, I got up and was down there right after 8am and there wasn't a soul in sight. I was the only one not only at the kiosk but pretty much in the entire harbor area. This has to be a joke they play on foreigners just to laugh at them dragging themselves down there at such an absurdly early hour. But I had the last laugh as I went back to the hostel and fell back asleep. So shove that in your smug anti-toursit pipes and smoke it! I will say, though, much to my surprise the ferry did end up full. But Monica, Joc and I all made it, for better or worse or varying shades therein, and we were off for 3 nights on the island of Hvar.

I was going to Hvar (and hostel Skansi) specifically because I had been told by nearly everyone I had met in Croatia that it was an absolute must-do. Including the English guys who ko'd me in Zadar. You would think I would have learned my lesson, dear reader. And you would be right... if I wasn't in Croatia. Heading to an island. On a boat. I got my swim trunks, and my flippy floppies.

Zadar, Croatia: Bumming the Dalmatian Coast

As you could probably tell from the ending of the prior post, I arrived in Zadar weary, confused, and a bit insane. To make matters worse, I couldn't figure out how the bus station was oriented or even if it was near the train station which what I was familiar with. Normally in a situation where I am required to take a night bus or train that gets me in at an absurd hour (2am-8am), I will employ the Mike Steele 2-for-1 hostel play. This is where I book the second night at the hostel and then turn up whenever my overnight transport gets in and simply crash on a couch at the hostel for a few hours.

So far I had achieved universal success but when I booked my night at the Wild Fig in Zadar I noticed that they did not have a 24hr reception. I emailed the hostel to see if someone could be there to meet me when I got in but they wouldn't be able to do that unless I booked a room for the first night. That's ok, I thought, I'll just hang out in the bus station for a bit and then show up at 6:30-7 when the reception opens. I was assuming there would be some sort of indoor station where I could find a bench, throw on the ipod and just chill. Much to my surprise, it was not that kind of bus station. The only indoor part was completely locked up. I did manage to find the train station though.

The worst part was that immediately to the left of this picture was an open room that looked like it was used as a heroin den as recently as moments ago. Thus, the train station being extremely sketchy, I opted to return to the bus station which was relatively well lit and my only real concern seemed to be the host of bums circling about like buzzards waiting to pick clean a corpse. I was able to find some reasonable looking benches more or less away from the bums where around 3:45 I set down my pack and tried to get some sleep. It was cold but I thought I could manage.

The only problem is that about every 10 minutes or so one of the bums would shuffle by and stop directly in front of me, presumably checking to see if I was asleep, in which case I would have to open my eyes and stare at them until they left. Eventually one guy came and even after I did the haka-esque eye maneuver he continued to mill about until finally I lost it and just yelled "aaaah balahaha balahaha blabalahbalah!" and waved my arms around frantically. That sent him scurrying. But any chance of sleep was doomed. I spent the next 2 hours in this position:

Finally around 5:45 I could sense the day breaking and I decided to set off in the direction I presumed the hostel to be. I have to admit, the road the hostel is on looks way more intimidating in low light than it does in the clear light of day. I did eventually make it to the hostel and much to my simultaneous relief and chagrin, I was able to walk right in, set down my bag and take a nap on the couch. I could have done that right from the start! But it doesn't matter, I was there safe and was able to get a few hours of sleep. Plus now I can say I've officially (tried) to spend a night in a bus station. Now that I've thoroughly terrified my mother with this story, we can move on to the rest of my time in Zadar, ha. 

After my brief but refreshing nap, splashed some water on my face and headed out to tour Zadar. The hostel I was staying in was a good 15 minute walk to the east of the old town (also on a peninsula like Piran), and I chose to walk first further east so I could stroll along the entire coast leading to the old town. It was my first glimpse of the Croatian coast and it was beautiful.

As I strolled along I noticed a woman sitting down on a dock just reading a book in the early morning light. It made for a great photo opportunity (and I have to be honest, I jealously wanted to join her).

After a brief stop for some stretching I made my way into the old town. Zadar's old town is chock full of old Roman structures (and tragically had much more until the wars of the past 100 years), so check out flickr for all the columns, gates, arches, and other structures. I'll just post the highlight pictures on here, the first of which is the Church of St. Donat with it's bell tower which is located on the site of the old Roman Forum.

Similar to most places in eastern Europe, you can climb the church bell tower for a modest fee. Those are Roman columns, structures, and wall foundations in the foreground. Before I climbed the tower, however, I stopped to sit and listen to a man who was playing guitar and soak in the early morning ambiance of Zadar. As I did such, I wrote the following:

"Sitting in the old Roman Forum square. Listening to a Croatian man play guitar, first traditional Croatian music, then 'House of the Rising Sun.' I have chill bumps. The clock tower bell rings. Pigeons take flight. Kids dance on the ruins while their grandparents smile knowingly. The sky is crystal clear. The sun is warm on my skin and there is a cool breeze. I am happy. Whatever else today brings, I am happy."

From atop the tower you can see how the church sits astride the rectangular outline of the old Roman Forum. This is an absolutely amazing site.

Also from the tower you can get nice views of the surrounding area including a direct line down the main boulevard back toward my hostel which lies somewhere off in the distance.

As I walked around the top of the tower, gazing down at the ruins of the Roman Forum below, I had another series of thoughts:

"Walking around Zadar brings sharply into focus two areas where as an American, you do not really have the capability to comprehend the scope of: (1) the Roman Empire; and (2) World War II. The extent to which the first stretches, the monuments, edifices, infrastructure is so mind bogglingly expansive and done with such precision that you see countless examples of it from northern England to Africa. Egypt to Turkey. Through the Balkans and up into Germany. That those structures exist in such a well preserved (and often functional) state is a testament to just how incredible and far reaching that Empire was.

And the latter of those two is probably the single greatest force in destroying the remains of those great building projects, bringing conflict to nearly every territory of the former Roman Empire. And that, of course, only being one of two theaters of that great war. The scale of both of these is so gigantic, so colossal, that one struggles to even attempt to grasp it- even after seeing the scattered bits and pieces of the construction of the former and the destruction via the latter first hand around the globe."

Also from atop the tower I noticed something funny and scribbled, "there is a guy next to me on the bell tower who literally just took over 100 pictures in less than 3 minutes. Overkill. And notably not Asian." Calm down Asians, I kid. ;) Also in the Roman Forum still stands one of the two original columns that occupied the north-central portion of the Forum. Incredible that it has survived so long.

The other main attractions in the old town are the sun dial thing and the "sea organ." The "sea organ" apparently makes sounds when the waves crash against it but it didn't sound very musical to me. Just like waves crashing against stone... maybe it was the wrong time for the tide? Frankly I didn't find either of them that impressive in comparison to the incredible Roman ruins scattered about the city, but I was informed that tourists often get drunk and jump off the sea organ into the ocean around 4am. So I guess it has that appeal.

Having completed my tour of old town, I returned to the hostel, donned my trunks and headed to scout out a spot to soak in some rays and take a dip or two. You'll find a common theme across the Croatia entries in that there is a distinct lack of "beaches" in the way we think of them, i.e. expansive white sand crashed upon by surf. In Croatia it's more like rocks and some lightly jostling waves. But, the water is absolutely crystal clear blue. Gorgeous. I found a nice little spot on a rock and prepared to get after it.

After sunning for a while, I joined some locals for a swim and diving contest and then it was time to retire to a place I had eyed earlier that morning, Tequila Sunrise, for a much deserved beer and sandwich. The view from the deck of TS is well worth posting the picture. Also, every now and then people would rise from their seats, walk to the edge of the balcony and plunge into the sea. Then come back up and resume their coffee/beer.

After relaxing and doing a little reading/writing, I returned to the hostel for a shower and to finish sorting out everything through Sarajevo. It was there I met a couple guys from Wakefield, England who, upon hearing I had been there, demanded I go out with them. Now, there have rightfully been a couple nights on this trip where I've had a few too many and woken up with a due hangover, but I haven't (thankfully) had any nights where I was passing out or just falling down drunk. Well, the Wakefield guys sorted that out with some sort of cocktail they had the bartender at the first bar concoct.

After 2-3 bars the guys wanted to go to the club but I never made it. One of the last pictures I have of the night is them disappearing in the distance over the bridge out of old town and over to the club. Evidently, I got about 2/3 of the way across the bridge, sat down and just went to sleep. The guys found me an hour later napping nicely, and being the English gentlemen they are, woke me up and helped escort me home. How embarrassing. But, not as embarrassing as the fact that between the bridge and the hostel, I lost my iphone, new headphones, and shoes. Yea, shoes!

They deposited me in the hostel lobby and instead of going to my room, I simply laid back on the couch I had spent part of the prior night on and wend to sleep. Bum style. I didn't wake up until around 10:30 and most of the hostel had been up for hours and no one had the courtesy to wake me until my English friends got up. In any event, I realized my stuff was gone and utilizing the tactics from The Hangover movie, I retraced my steps from the night before. I did find my shoes in a bush right outside the hostel (no idea why I thought that was a good idea) but had no luck with the iphone or headphones.

Chalking them up as a lost cause I headed back to the hostel only to discover that a nice Bosnian man had found them in a tree (TREE?!?) and had returned them to the front desk. I was so thankful I think I hugged him 4 or 5 times. Anyway, in all the excitement I had missed the bus to Split I had intended to take so I rushed out of the hostel and totally forgot: (1) to pay them; and (2) to collect my passport. Got all the way to the bus station before it dawned on me (though luckily I didn't leave the city!), and I went back and rectified the error. Thoroughly flustered by the ordeal at this point, I made it to the bus station, caught my bus, and crashed hard for the entire ride down to Split.

I've prided myself on being a great drinking ambassador to the world on this trip but never overdoing it to the point where I'm a liability to myself or others, but even the most seasoned professionals can be outdone from time to time. And Zadar, you got me. Needless to say it was going to be a very sober and recuperating evening when I arrived in Split, and I made an internal commitment to go very easy on my ambassador commitments once I had made it through Croatia. And even in Croatia I was going to be especially watching myself. Lesson learned. All told, considering I bested a Wakefield man in Le Mans, it made perfect sense that a Wakefield man would administer that overdue lesson. I hate to be proven wrong, but I do love the symmetry.

Piran, Slovenia: How to Stopover Like a Boss

When I was hammering out the next week of my Balkans plans the most challenging element was trying to figure out how to get from Lj to Split. The direct bus was a long overnight one and I wanted to see some thing in between, but what, and how? I eventually decided I wanted to see something of Piran, Rijeka, or Zadar. Some brief research led me to the conclusion that Zadar was a more attractive option than Rijeka- there was more stuff to see/do and it was closer to Split. I can't remember how I got tipped to Piran, but I looked at a few google images and decided I had to go. 

To accomplish all this I came up with he following itinerary: 8:30am bus from Lj which would get me into Piran at 12:00. I would then have about 4 hours to tour Piran before catching the 4:30 bus to Postonja getting in around 6:30 where I would connect with the 8:20 night bus to Zadar. Because I wouldn't be arriving in Zadar until 3am, I thought it was foolish to book a hostel for that night. But I'll get to that part of the story later.

Everything for the fist leg went off without a hitch and I arrived in Piran at almost exactly noon. The bus station is right along the water and only about a 5 minute walk from the main square. I know what you're probably thinking: "ok, you plan to tour the city in four hours but what are you going to do with your pack? Surely not carry it around in the heat for four hours?" The answer to that question is simple: you think like a boss. A BOSS. Which means you employ a strategy developed many years ago by my ex and I during our travels: the classic Random Hotel Drop and Run.

To execute this maneuver the first thing you need to do is locate the nicest hotel within a reasonable proximity. It's important to pick a nicer hotel because the classier they are, the less likely they are to hassle you or ask questions. Second, you walk in and locate the bell boy if there is one, and if not, proceed to the front desk. Then simply and confidently deliver a line such as, "it's ok if I leave my bag until my bus departs right?" I find this method most effective because you're not really asking if you can or can't, you're simply asking for confirmation that you can. Which means for them to say no, they are going to be contradicting what you already believe. Also, by providing no other information the natural inclination is to believe you are a guest of the hotel and therefore prompt no further inquiries. So, if they are operating under the assumption that you are a guest, it is inconceivable that they would deny you bag storage.

Sometimes, however, they will follow up and ask if you are a guest in the hotel. At this point you have two paths to go down: (1) bluff that you are (or were) a guest of the hotel and perhaps create a back-story; or (2) tell the truth and as sweetly and kindly as possible throw your mercy on the court in the hopes that they will feel empathetic and help you out. Alternatively, if it is a bell boy you can flash a few small notes and say, "it won't be a problem for a few hours will it?" 

I've had success with nearly all variations of this method over the years and it has proved handy time and time again. In Egypt I left a bag in the Sheraton hotel for over a week, in Athens I left my large bag for 5 days, and recently in Nice I left my bag in a hostel for 3 days (though that was more out of kindness than employing the Boss strategy). But I only needed to buy four hours on that particular day and so I went into the first nice hotel I found, within a few meters of the station, and using the low information play, the lady at the front desk gladly accepted my bag.

Now rid of my cumbersome burden, I was ready to rampage through the streets of Slovenia's most beautiful coastal town. The first thing you see is walking from the station is the main "square" which is actually an oval. At one point it was a small inner harbor which was subsequently filled in and made into a trolley roundhouse. After the trolley system was removed, it was filled in with polished marble stone. It is called Tartini Square, named after the famous violinist who hailed from Piran. You can see a statue of him in the center and the large yellow house is the one he grew up in.

Piran isn't a very large town- you can probably stroll the entirety of the old town in an hour or less. The old town itself is a triangular shaped peninsula with two main streets on the outside meeting at the tip of the peninsula. Seafood restaurants and ice cream shops populate the storefronts along these main streets, patrolled by attractive young Slovenian women soaking in the sun.

At the end of either street you will find the Church of Our Lady of Health and the annexed lighthouse. I particularly like the design of this old lighthouse- I can't say I've ever seen anything quite like it.

In between the edges of the peninsula are a maze of windy alleys, filled with houses, shops, and restaurants. Many of the houses burst with color- reds, yellows, blues, oranges, and greens all make appearances. Definitely worth checking out on flickr. As you stroll through the middle of the old town, life seems to slow down. Even dogs find it easy to nap away the day.

If you proceed to the north side of town and ascend the ramp, you can climb the bell tower of St. George's church where you will find the best views of the city as well as a great place to take your daily obligatory photo of yourself on your travels.

Just be careful climbing the stairs of the tower as they were old, rickety and wooden. They reminded me a bit of the stairs that Nick Cage is trying to climb down at the end of National Treasure and everything starts collapsing. The other main attraction in Piran is the old city walls which also provide some nice views of the city.

The stairs to the walls are also very odd in that they are cut away to one side making it impossible to climb them but with a specific left-right combination. What is it with Piran and weird wooden steps?

From up on the city walls of Piran I got to thinking about my travels in the past few days and my traveling philosophy in general and the following ruminations emerged:

"The old adage 'time is money' is almost universally true, perhaps nowhere more so than when it comes to traveling. If time is no object you can accomplish all you want at a fraction of what could be the cost. There is a hefty premium on having things quick, accessible, and easy. Convenience doesn't come cheap.

But if you're willing to be routed on longer flights, take buses instead of trains, cycle instead of buses, walk instead of cycling, your travel costs will plummet. If you're willing to walk further and seek out cheaper food, or better yet, buy groceries and cook for yourself. Wait to visit attractions until days when they are free or at times when they are at discounted prices. Stay further out of the city center. Stay in hostels rather than hotels, or couch surf instead of hostels.

And if you can stay in a place long enough and are willing to do a little work, most hostels will put you up for free and give you food. Take public transit instead of cabs. And trust strangers- maybe it means hitching a ride, maybe it means accepting an invite for a meal or staying a night. The more you are willing to be inconvenienced the more money you will find in your pockets."

Having a little over a hour and a half left to kill before it was time to retrieve my bag and return to the bus station, I strolled down the boulevard looking for a place to sit. Feeling peckish, and not wanting to shell out top dollar for seafood, I spotted a cafe offering very tasty looking pizzas on the cheap and took a seat. From there, I enjoyed an inexpensive but very good lunch and watched the scenery walk by for the remainder of the afternoon.

Finally it was time to hit the bricks and I returned to the hotel, picked up my bag, and headed to the station. On the way I stopped into Tartini Square and got one last shot of the plaza and the famous old Venetian buildings with St. George's in the background.

A few hours later I found myself back in Postonja, for the third time in 2 days, awaiting my night bus to Zadar. There wasn't much open in Postonja so I ended up buying some rolls at a bakery and sitting on the stoop of the station (which is really just a numbered parking lot). Fairly uneventful. The bus ride from Postonja to Zadar, however, was quite the adventure. I documented it freestyle, which I'll post here with the corresponding picture. Beware, as the ride wore on I began to slip slowly into a temporary madness:

9:50
Stamped out of EU. In Croatia. It just got real. No Croatia stamp. Seems sketchy. Arrogance of Croatian overpasses and highways agitates me. "we have cliffs, look we can build pointless overpasses way off the cliff faces with 450 foot concrete support columns. Why, because we can!" Eat a fat one Croatian corp of engineers!


10:10
There are 9 of us on this bus after Rijeka. The TV froze playing Cedric the entertainers "The Cleaner." Now Cedric is staring at me with this goofy expression on his face for the whole ride.

10:45
I'm now having a conversation with Cedric. I'm asking him questions to get his reaction. Like "what do you think about me having to spend the night in a bus station?" boom. "how do you feel about the bus driver just picking up a large taped together parcel from two people along side the road and neither of them getting on the bus?" me too. "what do you think my chances are of getting any sleep tonight?" I see.  "of me going 2 nights sober?" haha, punk. "of Croatian highway arrogance?" e-freakin-xactly.

Cedric made it to 11:30. I thought for a minute that they would leave him on making that goofy face all the way to Zadar but alas, he's been put out of his misery.

12:30
Zooming along the winding coast- late at night, high on these rocky cliffsides, with wildlife roaming around- it reminds me of that night burner through the New Mexico desert with Barb back in 06. Couldn't sleep then, can't sleep now.

1:30
Becoming delirious now. I nod off and come to- shadows dance through the bus. I see ghosts of men and women riding with us for fleeting moments. Disappearing just as we go around a corner. I look down and see flashes of light- like firecrackers or the glistening twirling antanea of some exotic insect. I see houses and I believe I am with those people, I live in their village and I know their trades. I am their king and for my benevolent ruling they provide me with priceless treasures. I tower over their buildings as I am a giant and they are but toys, yet I know that one day I will be killed to usher forth a new king and era. My ashes will be scattered in bits atop each of the houses of the village and the rest disposed of at sea. I am dictating memoirs from my deathbed to my son Lawrence. May he have peace with the dealings of my life and return those video tapes I owe.

2:10
The moon hangs low and deeply yellow now. It looks huge, grotesque, and jaundiced. It seems to be getting larger by the second. Our bus is driving towards it. The spirits of the people who built this road soldier past. Everywhere around us is water and rocks. A lagoon of death and decay. God that moon! Look how it just hangs there bigger still. Mocking us. Laughing at our futile attempts to flee this purgatory. In this place there is no time or space. Or words or reason. We are ghosts now and the spirits are the living. For only they can flee this place. The moon, obliterates us with its girth- its putrid yellow beams smother us. The colors have begun to shift in its wake, blacks are reds, greens now deep purple. The moon is nearly on op of us now. So big it appears to dwarf us. I smell it's stench. The hair on my head is standing- pulled by the nearness of the stinking moon. His face is so giddy, so teasing. He knows we are trapped forever. But he is setting. Soon the spirits will be free. When I close my eyes everything is drawn in crayon.

2:55
All is black now. All is ended. We are here and nowhere forever.

Ljubljana, Slovenia: Traipsing in the New Eden

Brief note: As a consequence of me getting so far behind in these entries, I've decided to embark in a new form of writing that will be integrated into the posts. This will likely make them less narrative and more spur of the moment. More almost note-like because, well, it will be notes to myself which are incorporated. This will give you much more depth into the little nuances I come across and also how I feel at that moment. Accordingly, tenses will flip around and it might seem less cohesive. But have courage dear reader. We all must grow and evolve and Wanderlust is no exception. God speed.

What was it that made me so brazenly overlook Slovenia? Was it the location, tucked neatly away between Italy, Croatia, Austria, and Hungary? Was it because of all the pub for Croatia or Trieste or Budapest or Belgrade or Sarajevo? Was it because the name Slovenia in my mind conjures up the word "slovenly"? Whatever the reason, I nearly made a huge mistake in overlooking this amazing place. In fact, the only reason I ended up going to Slovenia was that I needed a flight to or near Croatia for Shengen visa purposes and there were no reasonable flights elsewhere.

Right before I left Mike's to tour the UK and Ireland, I booked a flight from London to Ljubljana, Slovenia for the 24th of August. It was my initial intention to spend just a day there and head on to Croatia, but after doing a little research it seemed at least 3-4 would be required. I booked into a hostel in Lj that during the school term operates as a dorm for university students. Upon arriving from the airport, which is situated considerably far from the city but thankfully has shuttle buses, I checked into my room only to discover that I was going to be the only one occupying what was a three person dorm room. Should make for a few good night's sleep. The room itself was a bit dingy but I suppose that's to be expected.

My first thoughts of Lj: "Why is it so damn hot? Am I back in NC?" It was 96 degrees F. Remember in Nice where white guys vacationed with their Asian girlfriends and everyone else sustained arm injuries? The first people I met- sitting on the bus from the airport- was an Asian girl who had a white boyfriend WITH an arm injury.

Since there was a fair amount of daylight left I decided to take a stroll and with my Slovenian labeled map I headed to the most noticeable feature: the Lj Castle. Along the way I passed by the aptly named Dragon Bridge.

Lj Castle is perched high atop a hill overlooking Lj (as seemingly all castles are). There are two options to get there, either pay €8 one way for a funicular or walk up via the steep paths. Not wanting to waste money and always loving a climb I made my way up on foot. In my opinion it's the better of the two because the breaks in the trees provide birds eye views of the town below.

The castle itself has been extensively restored and now features a museum, cafes, shops, an art gallery, and is even used as an impromptu performance hall

To go inside the museum and up in the tower it is a few euros but if you show up an hour before close it's half price. Plus they bought my "I'm a student but forgot my ID" line. The best views of the city are from the tower so it's definitely worth it.

I walked back down from the castle and into old town. One of the most stunning features of the old town is the Triple Bridge, so named because it is in fact 3 bridges. On the side of the bridge closest to the castle hill was something exceptionally unique. A local artist had set up canvases all around and was then posing nude on a chair and allowing others to come up and paint/draw her. I did not expect to find that level of experimental art while wandering Lj.

Also nearby is the town hall, a couple monuments, and the old church. Right across the bridge there was an ice cream vendor selling a very unique flavor which was just all the other favors mixed together. I wish I could remember the name- it was something like Kavko! I'm not big on ice cream but I had to try it. Next I walked up to the University and through the park and finally back into old town by the river. You can see photos of all that stuff on flickr. The riverfront around Lj is about as beautiful as they come with gently cascading water, weeping willows hanging onto the banks, and alpine looking villas colored in reds and pastels providing the backdrop.

I wrote at the time, "Ljubljana is amazing. It's like if Rothenburg odT and Venice had a child and then nestled it between some mountains." From there I walked a few blocks down where you can see an old Roman wall part of the original forum of the city. From there you can branch left and follow the canal back around to the main road which encircles the castle hill. Along the way you'll pass a gorgeous little church and a house where, if you're lucky, the lady who owns it will wave and smile at you from her balcony while she enjoys her tea.

On the way back to the hostel I stopped at the store as got some pesto and a cheap Slovenian wine that I was going to eat with some pasta I had left from Scotland in a quiet night at the dorm. The kitchen of the hostel, however, was a bit bereft of supplies.

I was able to make do with the "pot" and there was one spoon so that's what I ate with. If you are wondering what the paper is on the right: it is the sheet music for 'Let it snow.' Thank god, what kitchen is complete without that? As I ate my pasta (whole wheat rotini with pesto which I've suddenly become a huge fan of) in my stifling non-a/c room, I wrote the following, "Hot as balls. Bargain Cabernet Sauvignon tastes like Franzia. But it will do. Flip flop prints all over the walls from quashing mosquitoes." The last part, of course in reference to the fact that to remotely cool the dorm I had to open the windows which allowed in mosquitoes, ruthlessly hunted by yours truly.

The next miring I planned to take a bus up to Lake Bled. On the way I passed a sign that was so funny it's worth posting the picture here. I believe it means it is a school zone an watch out for running children, but it looks like "Watch out! There are so many children they are literally bursting through walls!!"

Onto Lake Bled. Let me first say that Lake Bled is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. I could easily spend a week there, biking, hiking, swimming, or just lounging about. They have immense campgrounds if that's your thing and also little bed and breakfasts scattered around if you are a tad more refined. But The first thing you see as you approach the lake from the town is Bled Castle which hangs precariously from atop a massive rock outcropping.

The second thing you notice is how blue and shimmering the water is. For fresh water it's unlike anything I've ever seen. I could spend a lifetime traversing lakes and maybe never find one this color again. One one side of the lake is the castle and the church with the main town. Behind them the Slovenian Alps provide an amazing backdrop.

The third most noticeable feature, an probably my favorite is the island in the lake which houses a church. Every so often bells ring out from the church sending a cacophony of chimes echoing across the water. You can take a rowboat out to the church if you want to go in (no motorboats on the lake), or just swim out there if you just want to walk around. From the far side you can get the most picturesque views of the church, but it looks good from almost any angle. Another place worth a flickr visit.

I spent the next hour or so swimming around in the lake (very refreshing) and then gathered my stuff and headed up to the castle. Bled Castle was built in 1011, by the Hapsburg's and has been extensively restored. Similar to Lj Castle it has a museum, cafe, and a restaurant with spectacular views of the lake and surrounding countryside.

Also, there is a special tiny room with a really tiny window that was built facing the church on the island so the family could gaze out on the lake and the church when they pleased. As I was leaving the castle, a trumpeter and herald came down the stairs to announce the day's events as in the old days. A bit cheesy but still good fun. On the way back to the town (where apparently a marathon was being held), I happened upon a massive (almost 4 foot high) swan swimming in the lake. I was a bit tired and out of it so I didn't notice the girl behind the tree who overheard me mumble to the swan "whoa, you are fucking huge dude." She must understand English because she turned around and looked mortified. Haha.

On the way back up the hill I was noticing the passersby and wrote the following note: "This land is filled with lean sharp jawed women with powerful hawk like eyes that are cunning and as keenly perceiving as they are penetrating. The women all have long tanned lean legs and love to show them off with the shortest short possible, as if everyday was a leg competition."

The ride back to Lj was nearly as beautiful as the lake. Endless corn fields- neatly rowed. Imposing mountains all around. Houses, towns, buildings poking up where there is the even slightest break in corn. On the way in I noticed a plane towing along a glider. On the way out I saw something completely new: a glider airplane trailer.

The next and final day in Lj I planned to take a bus to Postonja where I could walk about 6.5 miles up the hill to the town of Predjama where the incredible Predjama Castle is located. Unfortunately for me, the particular day was going to be one of the rainiest in Slovenia in weeks. As soon as I stepped off the bus in Postonja it started absolutely pouring. I hid under an overhang for a while until it slowed and then started making my way toward Predjama. I got maybe 2 miles before it absolutely started pouring, amidst a thick blanket of fog. Really not an ideal place to be walking alongside a road. I took one picture but then had to put everything in a plastic bag for fear it would get ruined.

I myself was not so lucky. I marched 2 miles in the downpour until I finally reached this little restaurant. I was completely drenched down to the boxers- shoes soaked all the way through. This woman in the restaurant took pity on me and offered me a coffee and cheeseburger. I wasn't really that hungry but anything to get out of the rain. The coffee was as expected but when the burger came out I nearly had a heart attack- it was massive! Not thickness but it was probably 9 inches wide!

Despite not being that hungry, I was so grateful I ate every single bite. After I was done, she asked where I was going and I said Predjama. She offered to draw me a map with a shortcut but just then a young guy pipes up and offered to give me a lift the remaining 2.5 miles! I love Slovenian hospitality. When we reached Predjama, the rain had finally subsided and I caught my first glimpses of the castle.

Predjama castle was built initially in 1200's into the rock face and surrounding caves as a defensible fortress. It was built to it's current form in 1570 an it's most notable inhabitant was Ezraem Leuger, the "bandit knight." As I got closer the castle became more and more incredible and I noticed something interesting. To the bottom left you'll notice a field and a little viewing box that looks like

a bus stop. It is here where they hold annual jousting tournaments! Awesome.

You enter the castle through the main (and only) gate and proceed up through a series of rooms in the first tower. Wooden bridges connect this tower to the main building and it becomes instantly apparent that the castle is literally built into the walls of the cliff.

Despite its age, this castle had everything- a kitchen, audience room, dining room, toilet, heated living room, lookout post, chapel, and even a torture chamber. And speaking of the bandit knight, during a siege of the castle he was done in by a projectile that hit said toilet- pointed out by a traitor in his midst. If you keep climbing the castle there is a narrow wooden footbridge at the top level that leads you up into the caves. As the very back of the caves is a secret passage that winds through the mountain and brings you out safely by the river on the other side. Very Lord of the Rings.

From the main terrace you also get some nice views of the very small town of Predjama. By the time I has finished touring the Castle it ha started pouring rain again. Not wanting to make the 6.5 mile trek in the rain again I waited by the exit until I heard someone speaking English. It was a couple and they were asking one of the ladies how to get to Postonja. Boom. I walked up and said, "excuse me, are you going to Postonja? I can show you, I'm going there myself and could really use a lift in this rain." They accepted and off we went. Turns out they were a couple from mainland Greece vacationing in Slovenia and Croatia. We had a lovely little chat and the next thing I knew I was back at the Postonja bus station. In a bit of a mystic mood, I had the following thoughts on the bus from Postojna to Lj:

"When you are young you're full energy, piss and vinegar. Everything is exciting. You see in everything beauty and the world exists for the pursuit of joy and dreams. The young sees things how they could be.

When you are old you are skeptical, suspicious, and weary. Everything has been done and the new is foreign and not to be trusted. You see in everything sorrow and the world exists as a reminder of failures and forgotten dreams. The old sees things how they were.

This is why I love to travel at this age. I see things with eyes unclouded. I perceive both the beauty and sorrow in all things simultaneously. The world exists as both an opportunity to be capitalized on as well as a cautionary tale of unsuccessful ventures. I see things how they were, how they are, and how they could be. I could not do that at any other age."

Back in Lj it is still raining and I'm tired after a full day. I headed back to the hostel to cook the rest of my pasta, have some wine, and plan out the first half of my Balkans trip which up to that point was nothing but a vague idea. I succeeded in planning through Sarajevo which was about 1 week out. This included a very aggressive itinerary the next day: Piran, back to Postonja, then on to Zadar on a night bus. As I was planning this an immense storm broke out dumping down sheets of water. I opened up my windows and as I ate, drank, planned, and wrote I was serenaded by a chorus of falling water and caressed by the cool misty after-effects.