Lovely, but wet and cold, Novi Sad
Building facade in Belgrade
Restaurant sign in Zemun

Belgrade, Serbia

I wasn't going to go to Belgrade because for some reason, it just didn't have enough appeal for me. But plans change and so I ended up there and surprised myself by how much I liked it. So much so that I ended up staying for 8 days, the longest stay of anywhere on my trip so far! I can't really put my finger on what it is about Belgrade (Beograd) that caught me up. The energy of the city is attractive, in that even though it is big, it isn't frenetic like most big cities. It has a quiet sort of style that is classy and classic, as well as a fresh energy of a hip, educated generation moving up and on after the dark, bad days of the war. I didn't notice any signs of reckoning or remorse over the years of aggression in the Balkans conflict. Belgadians appear to have put the whole thing behind them and are looking ahead to increased prosperity and growth. There is a lively performing arts scene, and loads of bars and clubs playing the very latest in electo music trends.

Belgrade is stuffed full of buildings from the Austro-Hungarian era. Most of them could do very well with a damn good scrubbing to enhance the handsome art-deco facades. Each one has it's own special styling and allure that I never tire of. I go around cities like Belgrade looking up at the buildings and bumping into street lights and garbage cans! So much style and panache. Too bad for us back in Canada that few, if any, of our edifices can boast these artistic and graceful details that beautify a city. Amazing what a bit of creativity and plaster can do!

At the hostel in Skopje, I met a couple from Switzerland. She works in Belgrade and he works in Tirane, so they decided to meet half way, in Skopje, for a long weekend together. When I left Skopje for Belgrade, Sophhie and I contacted each other, and we were able to rendezvous a couple of times while I was there. One of those times, we decided to take the bus to near-by town of Novi Sad. By this time, Carly, my young Australian friend, had arrived in Belgrade as well, and since she was staying at the same hostel the three of us made a day trip out of it. Unfortunately the weather was pretty cold and wet, but we found a lovely town with elegant buildings and churches and a fortress on the hill. (Sounds familiar, right?)

Another day trip I did was to the now annexed suburb of Zemun. Not so long ago it used to be a separate municipality, and as such it had, and still has, a distinctly different ambiance from Belgrade. I guess a bit like the difference between Edmonton and St Albert! No need for a major commercial centre, with Belgrade just across the river. Again, a lovely community to explore and wander through, even in the cold and wet. Zemun lies along the banks of the Danube, and obviously that draws significant summer tourist traffic, with restaurants and pensions and inns along the waterfront, all low-rise and oozing charm. A lot of fish seems to be hauled out of the Danube, but I am unconvinced about the wisdom of eating anything from that river...

I saw a production of Swan Lake in Belgrade. There is a fine theatre building there dating back to the mid to late 1800's. Small and intimate, the audience seemed to know everyone there, except me! So many pretty little girls all excited about the ballet and seeing their favorite ballerinas on stage. The Prince was the weak link in the production, the choreography for whom had obviously been dumbed down in order to accommodate his limited capability. He looked a little like Superman, whom after all looks pretty good in tights as well!

Belgrade has more or less laid claim to Nicola Tesla, even though he was actually Croatian. There is a tiny Tesla museum, displaying a few of his belongings and artifacts regarding the inventions of this super genius. If you don't know who Nicola Tesla was, you should Google him, and then say "thanks, Nick!" I'm not sure if either Edison or Westinghouse thanked him, but they most certainly should have!

I was lucky enough to strike up a friendship with one of the hostel workers, Igor. He was great fun, and took some pleasure in showing me around his favorite parts of Belgrade, after he finished his shift. One of the most interesting places was an old communist tavern, that was in its heyday during the days of Tito. Here communist ideals were hammered out, debated and refined in this still busy locals' hot spot. Interesting bits of communist memorabilia cover the walls, and line the book shelves.

Igor convinced me that I should go to Sarajevo, to get a completely different spin on the Balkans area, from what I had so far experienced. So after 8 nights in Belgrade, I was heading west to Sarajevo, maybe the saddest city in the former Yugoslavia.

Skopje, Macedonia

Macedonia is where Mother Teresa was from. Not Albania, apparently. There is a museum in Skopje in her honour, and of course a statue. There are several statues and sculptures along the main pedestrian boulevard in downtown Skopje. Some are of important historical figures, and some are more whimsical depictions of everyday sort of folk. This city has a real sense of sophistication to it, especially after Albania and other parts of Macedonia! It is big and busy with lots of traffic and pollution, but a huge improvement on Tirane. It also sits at the foot of a rather large hill, almost a mountain, which has several hiking trails up to the summit. Locals seem to be avid hikers, as we found out for ourselves, when we decided head up. At the top is a refuggio with a basic canteen selling instant coffee and hot chocolate and snacks. Many hikers were enjoying their packed lunch with beer and homemade rakia.

It was one such group of comrades that invited us to join them at their picnic table and share their local specialties, including cheese, olives, meat, bread and rakia. Rakia is not too different from grappa, and is found all through the Balkans. It is often home made, from plums, apple, walnut, quince (highly prized), or anything that grows and bears fruit. Clear and cold, and dangerous in excess.

A lively conversation ensued in all directions, and the most outspoken and flamboyant member of the group was an opera singer! In fact, he was the one who invited us to join them. Cigarettes and rakia apparently are not damaging to an opera singers throat. Well, he is a bass anyway! We all discussed many things, as many as language limitations would permit. The sun was just beginning to show signs of tiring, so we all headed back down the trail to the parking lot together.

There is an obscure little "mountaineers hut" nearby the trail head, and since 3 or 4 of our host party were heading there for beer and song they insisted we come along too. A tiny little hut with a long table, benches and a few chairs, and a custodian who provided the beer, it was soon vibrating with the voices of the bass opera singer and his buddy, neither of whom I can remember names for. It turns out the other fellow is a high level executive in the Macedonia Central Bank. These two gentlemen were real characters, and they were absolutely in their glory playing guitar and singing the songs of their land, with great gusto and passion. It was pretty amazing to hear them go from one song straight into the next, pausing only to drink more beer and rakia, roll another cigarette and pass around the guitar. It was non-stop, and soon the three young men who were already there when we came along were compelled to join in and sing and play along as well. And along came another fellow who was well acquainted with this gang, a joining in for a time as well. When I made it absolutely clear to him that I would NOT marry him, he left!

After at least 3 hours of singing and drinking and laughing and telling lies, the custodian, who was about 70 yrs old, announced it was time to pack it in. It was now raining quite heavily, but is was easy to turn down the offers of a ride back to town, some 3 kms away. Of the entire group, I have to report that I was the only sober one there, preferring not to drink beer on cold days, and being extremely wary of the rakia. It was far too dark to use the trail, so we said our good byes and trudged off in the rain down the road to town. By the time we got to the bottom we were drenched and cold and hungry, and practically on the doorstep of the British Embassy, which was gated and guarded. And to our amazement, it was only 7:00p.m.. It seemed like mid-night! That's what happens when the partying starts at 2:30!

There was a rather lovely hotel and restaurant that beckoned us to come in, so we decided to treat ourselves to a proper restaurant meal and dry out, literally and figuratively. Fortunately we were the only guests, and so we didn't embarrass the staff too much by taking off or sodden footwear and socks! They were very sweet and understanding. And the food was delish and we deserved!

Macedonia

It was a real treat to arrive at Orhid in Macedonia, just over the border from Albania. It is a very beautiful summer resort city situated on Lake Orhid.

When we (Carly, Carlos and I) arrived in Orhid from the Albania/Macedonia border by taxi, we were let out at the top of the main square. Having no map and no knowledge as to the layout of Orhid, we must have looked dazed and confused. In fact, we were! As it seems to happen more often than not in these situations, we were spotted by an opportunistic but friendly fellow who asked us if we needed accommodation. We did, so he offered to show us his tourist apartment just a few minutes walk away. He just happened to be marketing when we showed up, and if not for him, I guess we would have attracted a different entrepreneur with available accommodation. But his apartment was clean and modern and we agreed to take it for a few nights

Orhid is a city worth visiting and touring around on foot. Lots of history and ancient sites, and a gorgeous location. We took a short boat tour of a small part of the lake. The boatman was super friendly and pointed out a few of his favourite spots. He was very deliberate about turning his boat around at a certain point - the Albanian border runs through the lake, and he seemed to know exactly where on the water that line is. One doesn't mess with the Albanian border, apparently.

As we were wandering about the grounds of one of the old churches, I met another young Aussie traveler, (I think that there are more young Aussies out of their country than in!). Later that day, we bumped into him again near the market, and we made arrangements to go for a hike in a nearby national park the next day. We rendezvoused at the bus stop at 8:00 am next morning, but were unable to squeeze onto the already over-crowded bus. Of course, there was an unofficial taxi there, willing to take us to our destination for slightly more than the sum of 4 bus fares, so off we went.

The somewhat bemused driver dropped us off at the park border, where we set out in search of a trailhead. We found the park map, with trails marked on it, and chose the one we thought was appropriate. Turns out to be an old road, up through the trees, arriving eventually at a summit. No big deal - just an easy hike up a dirt road. Until the park warden showed up, that is. He and his sidekicks came along in an SUV, and warned us to not go any further, that we were almost at the Albanian border. He demanded to see our identity documents, and told us to turn around and go back. Albanians were out there, with guns and it was a dangerous place to be!

There were other interesting sites within Orhid itself, including a re-construction of a magnificent Orthodox Church on the original foundations, and Roman amphitheatre and fortress.

It is a beautiful and restful spot and after a few days in Orhid we felt refreshed and ready to move on to the next destinations: Bitola, Kavadarci and Skopje.

Bitola seems smaller than it is, with a surprising population of over95,000. There are some lovely old buildings from the 18th and 19th centuries, but a lot of them are in a "quaint" state of disrepair. There is a large market and pazar area with many craft and artisan shops. The cafe culture is alive and well in Bitola, centred mostly on the main pedestrian boulevard bisecting the central business district. This is where you will also see dozens and dozens of very young gypsy kids, with or without their very young mothers. These kids apparently don't attend school and are extremely disadvantaged, judging by their lack of warm clothing and footwear. They are constantly on the look out for cash handouts, which apparently goes straight to the gypsy mafia in Romania. At least that is the general consensus, and so they rarely if ever receive any support from the citizens of Bitola. They take it all in their stride though, and seem undaunted by their low success rate.

Bitola is where we parted company with Carlos, who went straight through to Skopje, the capital of Macedonia. Carly and I had decided to check out Bitola and the wine district of Tikves, first. Macedonia has very good wine, and the Tikves region has the largest winery in Eastern Europe. A closer look was recommended by the Lonely Planet guide. Read on.

We left Bitola for Kavadarci, the heart of Tikvis. (There is supposed to be a little smile on top of the "s", but my anglo keyboard does not provide for that punctuation, so you will just have to imagine it being there. What that does to the "s" is it turns it into "sh". Tikvish.) Upon arrival at the bus station, I made an enquiry about the winery and accommodation options. As soon as I spoke, I was waved over to a young woman sitting in the waiting area, who obviously spoke English. In fact she was an American Peace Corp worker, and indeed, she did speak English! She was also functional in Macedonian. She was amazed and concerned that we had come to Kavadarci as tourists, and she wasn't even sure if there was a hotel in town, nevermind a hostel! She made a phone call to her local friend who told her that there was ONE hotel, and it was right near the bus station. She also pointed the way to the winery, and basically wished us good luck!

That was when Carly bailed. She said she really wasn't interested in seeing the winery or the area and that she was going to get on the next bus to Skopje ("j" sounds like "y") and get to the big city in time for the weekend party scene. So that left me stranded for the full shot for a hotel room, but I figured "whatever".

I took and paid for the hotel room, put my suitcase inside, and started making enquiries about the winery tour. The receptionist was unable to get me the necessary information, but promised to try again in the morning. Meanwhile, I decided I might as well walk over there, since there was nothing else to do.

After a 20 minute high speed walk, I located the visitor kiosk at the winery entrance, and found the attendant doing his day-end bookkeeping. I managed to get through to him that I was interested to do a tour, but he indicated that the last tour for the day was done (4:00) and that there would be no tour the next day - "Subato!" Saturday!!!! Oh no! I quickly decided to high tale it back to the bus station to find out when the next bus to Skopje was, and if there was a chance to get it I would grab my suitcase and head that way, rather than spend the night in this dreary, grey, grim city.

The next and last bus was leaving in 5o minutes, so I dashed back to the hotel, pleaded my case and managed to get my hotel fee back, since I had not used the room for anything other than to put my suitcase in. I had a few minutes to grab a quick bite to eat at the restuarant attached to the station, but got most of it packed up into a doggie bag. I made it on the bus with seconds to spare, and got the last available seat. And who should be on that bus, but Carly!

So we both ended up in Skopje at the same time after all, and the icing on the cake was that Carly's bus seat mate (a young woman living in Skopje) offered, no - insisted, on getting us to our hostel. That was very kind and generous, because we would have had quite a time finding it ourselves, late at night. And on top of all that, our friend Carlos was staying at the same hostel, so we had another re-union the next morning!

Skopje will need an entry of it's own. Stay tuned...

Albania

How do I even begin to describe Albania?

Getting from Budva, Montenegro to Tirane, Albania was a whole different experience from previous travel arrangements. Basically, it was a matter of trusting fate. There are no scheduled buses in Albania, and in fact there aren't even bus stations. We did take a bus from Budva to near the Montenegro/Albania border. From there we had to get a taxi, which took us through the back roads to the crossing, and into the "city" of Shkoder, Albania.

Shkoder is unbelievably filthy and littered. The roads are mainly unpaved, and garbage is strewn absolutely everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. There is barely any patch of ground where it isn't evident - it's really just a matter of how deep. I believe it's safe to say that there is no waste management program. No landfills, as such, and no garbage collection. The capital city, Tirane, does have collection, but there is still an unbelievable amount garbage piled up and strewn about.

Our taxi dropped us on a back street in this mess, and pointed us toward a "furgon" or mini-bus, for our onward trip to Tirane. There was no indication that this was a passenger bus going anywhere, but the driver knew where we were headed (we certainly weren't staying in Shkoder!), and so we hopped on. Happy to get moving right away, we set out and picked up and dropped off local passengers along the way. The "highway" was a tangle of traffic, potholes, mud, dirt, gravel, tractors, mule carts, motor scooters - you name it! Incredibly, no one crashed, although there were numerous close calls. The litter and filth is a constant feature, where ever you look - piles of it. Everywhere. And air pollution, the like of which I have never encountered.

I didn't take many pictures of Albania, and none of Shkoder, so if you want to see for yourself on Google, bear in mind, that from what I have seen, the photos must have been "photo-shopped" to not reveal the litter and pollution. One reason I took so few photos was because of the air pollution, which makes for a really boring picture. The smog seems impossible to escape, even away from the cities. In fact, I think a lot of it is from wood smoke, with a large contribution from diesel engines that need tuning up. Albania is a very poor country, a long way off from being an EU member. Third world for sure. I remember what Afghanistan and Pakistan looked like in 1974. This is 'way, 'way worse...

When the furgon (minibus) arrived in Tirane, after about two hours of threading through dense traffic on atrocious roads strewn with construction rubble, we were deposited on the side of a busy road, who knows where? But of course there was a taxi waiting to take us the final leg of our journey, to our hostel. Once we were able to communicate successfully where it is located (across from the Arts High School - ah yes! Addresses mean nothing.), we settled on the price and within 15 minutes we were shown our dorm room in the hostel. It was a great relief to arrive, and we four were glad to have had each other for company on the rather mysterious adventure of getting to Albania.

Tirane is a very busy and dirty (surprise!) city. It is really like a very large village. People are very friendly and willing to help where they can. As in all countries in the Balkans, almost everyone smokes, and there is nowhere that is off limits to smoking. It is very common for people to light up during a meal in a restaurant, regardless of children or other patrons. Caffe's are particularly bad, where men gather for long visits over an espresso and multiple smokes.

Having said that though, it is the first place since leaving Italy where I got a decent cuppa java (Lavazza), and as far as restaurant food goes, it is the BEST food on my trip so far! We were recommended a restaurant not far from our hostel, and it was so good that we ate there three nights in a row. Quite rich, and heavy on the meat, but very well prepared, incredibly delicious and the prices are ridiculously low. Even the hole-in-the-wall vendors' food is super delicious and of course, super cheap. We stumbled across the main market on our second day in town, and we were absolutely blown away by the high quality of the produce and the variety of foods stuffs available. Nuts, beautiful cheeses and dairy products, honey, fresh fruits and veggies, dried fruits, pickled and stuffed peppers and eggplants and zucchinis, olives, fish and meat, even tobacco (of course!). It is by far the best market I have been to yet.

A side trip to Kruhje was recommended and so we decided to make a day of it. The furgon takes about two hours to get there, and when we disembarked we made an arrangement with the driver to meet him back at the same spot at 5:00. Off we trundled around this town that sits up high on the mountainside, above the thick blanket of ever present smog, which obscured the views of the valley completely. It was very good being high up in some cleaner air for a few hours, and another nice meal was taken in a lovely traditional restaurant with friendly staff. We had a good look around in less time than we expected to take, and so ended up killing almost an hour just sitting in a square nearby the aforementioned pick-up spot, waiting for our furgon. Two hours later, we were pretty convinced that the driver was not going to show up, and we had to start finding an alternative way to get back to Tirane.

Trouble is, after dark (which it already was), cab drivers won't drive to Tirane, because of the bad road conditions. So that put us in the position of being at the mercy of unscrupulous drivers, offering to take us for exorbitant prices. After more negotiating and searching we we lucky to find someone willing to take us back, for a lot more than it took us to get there, but the alternative was booking a hotel for the night, so we were very grateful to the driver for taking us back to Tirane.

I went to the opera in Tirane, and saw Salome. It was pretty bad, actually! In fact the soprano was awful. But she could dance, and so I guess that's how she landed the part! One of the difficulties for me was that the surtitles were in Cyrillic, and I don't understand any German. So, it was a lot of guess work with regard to the libretto, but I got the gist of it. It's not exactly the most subtle of stories anyway, the general idea being pretty obvious, even in Cyrillic!

After three or four days in Tirane, I had had enough of the pollution, and in fact I was starting to get sick from it. Time to move on and at the last minute three of us decided to head to Orhid Macedonia, rather than south to see more of Albania. Luis, the Spaniard, opted to stay on in Tirane for a while longer, so Carlos, Carly and I headed for the Macedonian border, on another Albanian mystery tour.

The border between Albanian and Macedonia partially runs through Lake Orhid. On the Macedonia side is the city of Orhid which is a lovely resort town attracting thousands in the summer months. In order to get there from Tirane, we had to first locate the street where the fugons to Elbasan (half-way point) leave from. Again, there is no bus station or even a bus stop. It's just the place where these mini-buses leave from for Elbasan. One needs to look for a furgon with particular licence plate numbers in order to determine the destination. Organized chaos, I guess.

The route to Elbasan takes you through beautiful mountainous countryside with small and large villages along the way. Unfortunately, the views are obscured by the air pollution, and tainted by garbage. Such a sad and beautiful country. Once we got to Elbasan, we were told that there were no more furgons, so in order to make the second half of the journey to the border crossing we would have to hire a taxi. This was contrary to what we had been told by our hostel hosts, but seeing no other furgons, we had no choice but to go by taxi. Being a group of three meant that this was not an exorbitant expense, but certainly a lot more than taking a furgon. However, furgons leave only when they are full, and so even if we had found one, we could not be sure how long it would take to get to the border. The second half of the trip to the border was less smoggy so the views from the car were a little better. Within about another hour we were deposited at the border, where we had to hire ANOTHER taxi to take us to the city of Orhid. It was nice to finally arrive, but where to stay?

Kotor Photos

Kotor, Montenegro; fortress walls and footpath; fortress walls!!!!; abandoned chapel.

Kotor and Budva, Montenegro

Another bus trip down the beautiful Adriatic coast gets us to the Bay of Kotor, an amazing geographical feature, that seems more like an inland body of water, or perhaps a fjord, than a bay. The town of Kotor is well inside this bay, and the mountains rise straight up behind it. In pretty much every case, it is the "stari grad" or "old town" that are the attractions in these cities and towns and they are really quaint and historied places, still thriving with business and residences. Frankly, they all start to look more or less the same, having more or less identical histories of settlement and invasion. The Romans were everywhere, and their presence was a huge factor in the establishment of these forts and port towns. And they sure knew how to build things that last! Roads, for instance, and really high, thick walls.

When Carly and I were walking from the bus station in search of the hostel, we happened to cross paths with a wedding party. There was a small band of musicians leading the way, making a merry racket and stopping in the square for the guests and wedding party to do some dancing. It was such fun, and we felt really fortunate to have a glimpse of the local culture.

An interesting feature of Kotor is the mountainous terrain that nearly pushes it into the sea. There is a fortress 'way up high above the town, and stone walls running along ridges, supposedly for the protection of the town against invaders from overland. I have no idea who would even bother to attempt to come across the very formidable landscape of steep and crumbling mountains. I was never able to find out why the walls were built. We did hike up to the fortress and beyond. It felt good to get up high and to scramble around on the ridges, and spend a day off pavement and stone streets! There was an ancient abandoned stone chapel in a lovely meadow, and the sun was just right, lending a peaceful and almost mystical feel to the scene.

Once again, the hostel where we stayed had fabulous staff who were helpful and fun. When the staff is friendly, it's like all the guest are part of a family, and making conversation and travel plans with new friends is easy. We met an another traveler there, Carlos from Brazil, who was heading in the same direction as Carly and I, and we made subsequent travel arrangements together, booking the same hostel at the next destination, Budva.

Budva is a lot bigger that Kotor, and a lot more prosperous, I think. The marina there had some fairly posh looking yachts with flags from several nations, and the whole beach resort thing is more developed, with loads of bars and souvenir stores, now mostly closed up for the season. Again, the main event (other than the beaches and ocean) is the old city. We had a nice hostel inside the walls, and found it without too much difficulty. The first order of business is to claim a bunk and put the luggage aside. Then it's off to explore while there is still daylight. When we returned from our initial exploration, we were greeted by another traveler in our dorm, Luis from Spain. So we now had a happy foursome, and we spent the next several days together, enjoying the pleasures of Budva, and taking on the perils of Albania!

Dubrovnik; Our hostel hosts (standing) and the gang of travellers; church inside Dubrovnik walls; Dubrovnik on the Adriatic.

Dubrovnik and The Schengen Agreement

If you have ever seen photos of Dubrovnik (or perhaps you have been there) then you know that the old walled city is stunning. It was heavily damaged during the war, by Serb and Montenegrin forces, but fortunately has been almost fully restored. When you look at the map of the areas that sustained damage and destruction, it is truly remarkable because most of it was affected. Unesco designated Dubrovnik as a World Heritage site, as it has done in many, many locations in Croatia, and so with that support, miracles can happen!

The huge, deep harbour and “wow factor” make Dubrovnik a premier destination for cruise ships. The 3 or 4 days that I was there, a couple of these behemoths arrived, and the seething masses of passengers descended upon the small town. It is actually very well set up to receive thousands of tourists at a time, which it does especially in the summer months. There are dozens and dozens of café bars and restaurants, and high end fashion shops and jewellers. And of course there is a charming market where one can peruse the local handicrafts and specialty foods (honey, lavender, figs wreaths, walnuts, garlic braids, et cetera).

On the bus trip from Split to Dubrovnik, I met a young woman, Carly from Australia, who was also travelling solo. I had already made a reservation in Dubrovnik at a hostel, but she hadn’t. The instant we got off the bus, we were approached by a man offering accommodation at this place, and did we need some and would we like to come and see it, he would drive us there right now, yes? This kind of thing happens at most bus stations in eastern Europe so we weren’t surprised, but as usual found it very irritating. Of course he was quite insistent, even though we told him several times that we already had accommodation, thank you very much. Never mind, I will drive you there, he said, after the next bus comes in a few minutes. Another younger man came over and spoke with us too, and he assured us that this was all fine and that the fellow, who was his friend, was just being friendly and helpful, not to worry. Both of them spoke good English, especially the younger one, and so we were able to have a good conversation about Croatia politics and its complex history, and the Schengen Agreement (more about that later…) and the EU. So, 15 minutes later we were indeed being ushered to the hostel of his competitor, with a detour to a viewpoint over the old city, by this lovely fellow who was just being helpful. Croatians are a friendly people.

The hostel was in a private residence, which is often the case. The host family consisted of Mr and Mrs and 2 adult sons. They all spoke English with plenty of proficiency, and were welcoming and enthusiastic hosts. They obviously have a steady flow of travelers through their hostel all year round. There were already another 5 or 6 travelers there when we arrived, 4 of whom were at the hostel in Split with me - two Australian lads, and the two girls from Oz and New Zealand. It was nice to catch up with them, and introduce Carly to some young compatriots.

Okay, here it goes - I will tell you about the Schengen Agreement, in case you don't already know. I certainly didn't. Never heard of it, in fact. It is an agreement between European nations (all western, central and some eastern) that provides free and easy access to citizens from member countries for travel and business. As the years go by, more countries sign on to the agreement. It is a separate entity from the EU, and not all EU nations are part of it, and not all nations in Schengen are EU. But for the most part it, they mirror each other. The hitch is in how the Agreement affects foreign travelers. As a non-Schengen traveler, you are only allowed to be inside Schengen countries for a TOTAL of 3 months within a 6 month period. Once you have used up your 3 month welcome, you must leave and not return for another 3 months, at which point you will begin a new 3/6 month period. As more and more countries sign on, the harder and harder it becomes for non Schengen travelers to enjoy lengthly stays, because the allowable time period remains the same. At this point some of eastern Europe is still open for non Schengen travellers, but countries like Slovenia, Slovakia, Czech Republic, Hungary, Poland and Greece are all included in Schengen. So, if you are planning an extended period of travel in Europe, be careful to figure out where and how long you want to stay in each country, 'cause if you get caught overstaying your welcome you will be deported with a 400 Euro fine. It is my understanding that this ruling is primarily to keep folks from countries like Albania from coming to member nations and staying. But it certainly applies to travelers and is proving to be a real thorn in the side.

I learned about this from Carly, the young traveler from Australia. She encountered difficulties crossing from Slovenia into Croatia, having spent 3 months in Italy and having more than used up her allowable time. She had never heard of this agreement either, until the border officials took her aside, and threatened her with a 400 Euro fine. Luckily, one of the officials was sympathetic to her ignorance and her youth, and she was waived through to Croatia without penalty. But she has had to completely change her travel plans to Europe, which is fine, but still the risk of trying to get back into a Schengen nation is too great for her to contemplate until she has stayed out for 3 months. We have met others who are having to be extra careful about their travel plans. There is more or less a consensus of opinion that if you fly into, stay inside and fly out of Schengen, then no one will bother you, presuming that even if you stay longer than 3 months the very fact that you are getting on a plane and flying out should be satisfactory to authorities. However, you just don't know until you try....

Meanwhile, back in Dubrovnik, the weather was greatly improved and holding steady at well above seasonal norms and dry. This made for lovely views from up on the city walls, and out to sea. There are many beaches for swimming and lazing about, but not in the late fall. It is a great town to meander around and sit and people watch. I stayed for 3 nights, and enjoyed the friendly atmosphere at the hostel with the other travelers and with our hosts who invited us all up to their dining room to share potatoes and local brandy and wine, and laughs.

Carly and I decided to team up and head to Kotor, Montenegro as our next destination.

Split and Trogir

Trogir church, Split, Trogir

Split, Croatia.

Traveling by bus in Croatia is quite comfortable, as the coaches are clean and quite new. The coastline is stunningly beautiful (even if it is raining...), and the large windows offer great views as you travel along. The route along the coast from Zadar to Split was no exception, and my head was turned as much to the landward side of the road as it was to the seaward side. The mountains are rugged and spectacular, and as we passed by the area close to one of the Croatian national parks, I was kicking myself for opting to not go to Plitvice Lakes National Park, on account of the cold and wet weather. I have since learned that it IS a must see, and so I will endeavour to get there on my way back through Croatia in December, when it is certain to be cold and snowy! But, I'm from Alberta so it should be no problem for me, ha ha! Sensible footwear will be the key.

Upon arrival in Split, I found my way to the hostel that I had booked, and then proceeded to explore the Old City. This is really an amazing place, because it is what built by Roman Emperor Diocletian as his retirement palace, between AD 245-313. It measures 215m by 181m, and contains not only the original structures such as his mausoleum (which was turned into a cathedral), but structures added over the centuries by subsequent occupiers such as the Venetians and Hapsburgs. It grew into a residential community, and still is today, home to several hundred residents along with banks and shops and tourism related businesses. It is really quite fantastic, with all the architectural styles of the various influences over the ages. I love the small details that are evident here, there, and everywhere - carvings, loges, balconies, windows, doorways, decorative motifs. I did a guided tour, one on one, with a very good guide who was extremely knowledgeable and passionate about the history of his city.

The hostel brought me into contact with some young travelers from Australia and New Zealand, about the age of my daughter, Caitlin, and a little older. It was really nice to sit with them and chat about many things, and share some laughs and some food. It was also a real treat to finally get to a hostel where I could cook my own food. There was a nice market very nearby, and so eggplant was on the menu, cooked up with onion and paprika and topped off with pomegranite and yogurt. Yumm! And of course some wine. This is where I first discovered Macedonian wine. Very good!

I went to the town of Trogir as a day trip from Split. A one hour bus ride away, it is a lovely town with some pretty buildings and set on a small island linked to the new town by a bridge. I hiked around and up and over the old town through the old residential streets to the far side of the island (it's tiny) to find lovely coves with azure waters and bright sun. No sandy beaches, which are rare in Croatia, as far as I can tell, but many good spots to slip into the Adriatic to swim and snorkel. In the summer, that is. The air temperature was too chilly for that on a day in mid November. But it was mildly tempting!

Instead I contented my self with clambering around on the rocks and picking fichi d'india, aka prickly pears. Prickly, indeed! The fine, hair-like thorns embed themselves in your skin very easily, so I used a plastic bag to pick them. They were a beautiful dark red, much more so than the ones that I have bought from Spinelli's in Edmonton. When I got back to the hostel, I was very surprised to learn that the young woman who is the receptionist, had never eaten them before. They grow all over the area, close to the sea and inland, not at all rare to see them in peoples gardens and in natural places. Mostly the just fall off and rot, but there are some for sale in the markets, which would be akin to buying rhubarb or crabapples at the grocery store in Edmonton. Pomegranites and persimmons are also everywhere, but mostly cultivated. And oranges. Lots and lots of oranges.

There is a huge park to the west side of Split that offers some nice walking trails and good views of nearby islands and the vast sea. I had a fine day of exploring there, and came upon the local climbing crag, which looked very enticing and fun. The limestone cliff band has eroded over the ages into varied formations and caves, some of which have had hermitages built into them. All along the coast of Croatia is vast amounts of climbable rock, and it has in fact started to become a preferred climbing destination in Europe. So, if you are looking for new routes and fewer crowds than Back of the Lake or Squamish, I would strongly recommend a spring or late summer trip to Croatia. It is hard to imagine that there would be any kind of line-ups anywhere here for the next century or so. Very good quality limestone!

After about 4 days in Split, it was time to move on to Dubovnik.

Krk Town; St Quirinus; Franciscan monestary courtyard

Krk Island

No, that is not a spelling error. Croatian seems to prefer consonants over vowels. Sometimes its just impossible to figure out pronunciations of Croatian words, and even if I do figure out how to pronounce something, I have absolutely no idea what it could possibly mean! There is no similarity with English or Italian or French, so trying to even get the gist of any text is just not going to happen.

Anyway, Krk Island is a little way off the coast from Rijeka. I spent ANOTHER very wet day there. It really bucketed down after lunch. In the summer, the island is a beach resort, like many of the other thousand or so island of Croatia. In the off season it's pretty much just the locals, and a few odd travelers, like me, drifting through looking not for parties and sunshine, but at the shape of the towns and the look of the people, and the feel of the ages. Krk, despite the miserable weather, had a really nice feel to it. The rain did put a damper on my plans, which included going for a hike just outside the old city. That plan went by the boards within about 10 minutes of setting out, so I had to content my self with wandering the ancient streets of the old town, and then heading back to Rijeka a couple of hours later. Maybe next time the weather will be friendlier!

Zadar Shpynx (!!!), Zadar gate and marina, Zadar laneway.

Zadar, Croatia.

The rain continued, unabated as I journeyed south along the Adriatic coast. In Zadar, it was really quite miserable, grey and very soggy. I began having serious second thoughts about being anywhere in Europe in late fall and winter. And this was just the beginning!

The hostel where I stayed was quite a long way from the old town, where the interesting places are, but my first morning there I decided to walk rather than take the bus. I find that if I walk about when I first arrive in a new location, I am able to get my bearings a lot better, than if I take a bus, and risk getting the wrong one, and/or getting off at the wrong stop.

The route that I chose took me along the coastline to the old city, and like the rest of the Adriatic coast, it is extremely convoluted and indented. So what looked like it should have taken about a half hour or so, ended up taking well over that, but past some beautiful old villas (almost all in states of neglect) and a couple of marinas, one of which was home to many, many unbelievably large pleasure craft, mostly flying the Union Jack. Some people just have too much money… One of the villas even had a replica of an Egyptian Sphynx in the front yard, which someone saw fit to “jazz-up” a bit with spray paint.



By the time I arrived in the old city, my feet were completely soaked (again), but I soldiered on in search of the tourist info office. This is one of the few cities where the tourist info office is actually situated where tourists go AND was really easy to find. Not only that, but the young woman who worked there was both helpful and friendly! Bonus!

She pointed out the “important monuments” and gave me good directions, and thus I was armed with information and enthusiasm for two days of exploring.

Within the walls of these cities is always fascinating, just poking around and checking out the side streets and nooks and crannies. A couple of extra interesting things I found in Zadar were the Glass Museum and the Sea Organ.

The Glass Museum is a new permanent exhibit in Zadar, housed in a beautifully renovated old building. But not nearly as old as the glass on display. The pieces were from the very earliest days of glass making and up through to post Roman times. A lot of the pieces came from an excavation site on a nearby island and were so delicate and fragile that it is completely remarkable, how beautiful they were. I was really moved by what I saw, in the beauty and the practicality, and the technology of glass making. Nothing was as elaborate as what is found on Murano Island, off Venice, but in fact some of the pieces did come from there, and the raw material for glass making, which was made in the area of Zadar, and shipped as a trading commodity to Murano, among other glass centres in the Roman Empire.

The other very interesting feature in Zadar is the Sea Organ. The one and only sea organ in existence so far, it works like a pipe organ, but the air is pushed through the pipes by the movement of the sea water. It is situated on the beautiful promenade, where everyone can enjoy the mellow sounds and watch the sunset. Well, when I was there it was raining and the sea was very calm, but there was just enough wave action to create some very ambient sounds, that would have been very restful if not for the lack of sun and abundance of rain! Anyway it’s pretty cool. Check it out on You Tube, here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5P0xxMOkmqA&feature=related 

Rijeka, Croatia

Rijeka

Rijeka is a bigger city, as evidenced by the huge port (Croatia's largest) and the abundance of very vivid urban art, which is to be found on otherwise blank concrete walls. There is also a fair amount of graffiti as vandalism, but for the most part, it is not found on monuments and historic beautiful buildings.

There are lots and lots of beautiful buildings of Austro-Hungarian influence, all handsomely decorated with figures, faces and facades that for the most part seem to be in need of cleaning and attention. Again, there just doesn't seem to be the interest or concern or money to bother with preservation of these fine monuments.

The weather turned nasty, and the rain was relentless. However, I still managed to see quite a bit of the city and it's important monuments. One of the most interesting ones was the Trsat Castle in a part or Rijeka that looks down on the city from up on the hillside. It is a really sweet castle - kind of dainty and petite if you can imagine! The rest of the parts of the city that I explored were in the old city, where there are seemingly countless reminders of the Romans.

I will now attempt to add a photo to this blog entry, of the castle. Fingers are crossed!!! Of course the addition of each photo ends up at the top of the entry, and it is impossible to shift their positions. This is one of the frustrations of this blog, that I cannot put the photos where I want them. Alas, it might be time to switch to a different blog server....

Pula Croatia.

Pula is a small city at the bottom on the Istrian Peninsula, in Croatia. It's a pretty neat little town, and I imagine that things get pretty lively in the summer tourist season. Off season it's pretty quiet though, and not warm enough to lounge on the pebble beaches. The sea is clear and beautiful, and not all that cold, but the air temperature is just not warm enough to tempt one to go for a swim. Actually, I did go for a dip - about 3 minutes I'd say! I had to be able to say that I swam in the Adriatic Sea.

The hostel that I booked is not too far from the old centre, where all the ruins and important monuments are. I got pretty good at hoofing it, and occasionally hopping a bus, to get to where the action is. The hostel was adequate but not exactly a happening place. In fact I was the only guest, which was fine I suppose, since there was no common room anyway. The "common room" would be the outdoor terrace, which overlooks the bay and pebble beach, which in the summer would be quite, quite lovely. It's not really an option at the beginning of November though, especially in the morning.

The town of Pula boasts some impressive Roman ruins, not the least of which is the fabulous Amphitheatre. It really is quite something, with NONE of the hype that accompanies the one in Rome. Not quite as big, perhaps, but it did seat 20,000 people. In addition there is a Forum (natch) and Temple of Venus, and a smaller sized theatre, which is sadly neglected and full of litter and a good deal of vandalism. There are bits and pieces of ruins scattered all about the old town, with no real regard for them. I'm guessing that there is some will to preserve and protect these antiquities from further damage, and to organize and assemble them for posterity and for their inherent tourism value, but there just isn't the money available for such projects. Or maybe there isn't the will. I guess if this stuff is just all over the place it becomes too onerous a task. But there are some very, very old sites that seem to be fenced off as works in progress, although there didn't seem to be anything currently happening at any of them.

I pretty much covered Pula in a couple of days, so I pushed on to the city of Rijeka.

Blog Woes

I'm getting really frustrated with Blogger. It seems to edit out my photos when I add them to my posts, which is really really annoying because it takes a lot of time and effort to put these things together! Anyway, I will keep trying, and I will also try to get photos onto my web-album where I should be more successful in posting photos, at least. I'll let you know! Meanwhile, thanks for bearing with me. Also, I'll try to not be so long-winded!

Trieste, part 2.

There is a fabulously beautiful place on the outskirts of town called the Castello Miramare, which was built by Archduke Maximillian, the cousin of Franz-Josef (whose assassination started WW1) and his wife Charlotte. Maximillian was eventually appointed as Governor of Mexico, but was assassinated there. Anyway, this Castello is the very definition of old world elegance, inside and out. The Castello itself is situated on a promontory of land pressing gently into the Adriatic, and the grounds and gardens are behind and upslope from it. He had a large part in the overall design, and dedicated the garden to being of educational significance. The location is spectacular and the development is utterly beautiful. Too bad for Max that he never got a chance to see the finished product.

So, if you ran a bus company in Trieste say, and you offered services to several cities and towns in neighbouring Slovenia and Croatia, would you not want your entire bus schedule to be posted? Not just some of it, but ALL of it? Not only at the bus station, but maybe even “on-line”? I’m just wondering. Well, apparently the SAF bus company doesn’t think that it is necessary. So, let’s just say that based on what I read of the schedule both at the station and on-line, I decided to take the 9:00 am bus to Pula, Croatia. So I got myself to the station with over a half hour to spare (‘cause you just never know…) and when I told the girl what ticket I wanted, she informed me that that is only a summer scheduled bus. No indication of such on the schedule, or even what dates “summer only” encompasses. But, there was one leaving at 2:00pm. Or I could catch the bus that was leaving in 10 minutes for such and such where I would transfer to a different bus to Pula. Okay, that’ll do, I guess. Whatever. My bags were packed, I was ready to go; I was standing there inside the door… (apologies to Ian Tyson).

Trieste:

I had opted to stay for a couple of nights in Trieste, even though I was intending to go from Venice into Slovenia. However, there was too little information about accommodation in, and bus or train service to the few small towns on the coast of Slovenia for me to make a decision to go there (where?). So, in hopes of being able to fill in some gaps, I elected to add Trieste to my itinerary. The little that I had read about it, made it sound interesting enough to warrant a stop over, at least. I had made a reservation at a “hostel” in Trieste, and it was easy to find, being very close to the train station. It’s not what you would call “welcoming”, and the fellow who runs it is a bit stern. Pretty tired and worn out, it is in need of some freshening and brightening up. Some hooks in the bathroom wouldn’t hurt, and perhaps somewhere to put your toiletries bag would be helpful. There are numerous signs in scratchy felt pen advising guests not to do this and not to do that and not to do the other, rather than just fixing stuff and making it better. Obviously with an eye to keeping his costs as low as possible, hall lights were generally off, even at night. Kinda creepy - darn good thing I have a tiny flashlight in my bag, otherwise I would not have been able to see the key hole to the doors! It was actually quite safe, and the fellow turned out to be quite helpful, when he was around, and spoke very good English. I wouldn’t rush back, though.

Trieste is quite an interesting place from the standpoint of its geographical location and all the political influences it has had over the centuries. Starting with the Romans, and going right up to post WW2, it has been subjected to outside influences pushing and pulling it into what it is today. It being only a stones’ throw from the border with Slovenia, Trieste is a real mish-mash of the two cultures. I believe there are 3 languages spoken - Italian, Slovene, and a hybrid of the two, Fruilano. I guess it is a good first step into to world of eastern Europe, being like a beginner level course - EE 101. Houses and products in the stores start to look different here. And so do the people and the way they dress. They look more like Canadians - a mixture of sizes and body types, and not that concerned about fashion.

The downtown part of the city was built in the 1800’s, for the most part. I think there was a devastating earthquake which destroyed what had been there. At any rate, there must have been an incredible building boom, because there are hundreds of these very handsome buildings, some with more ornate finishing touches and facades than others.

I couldn’t help getting this feeling of latent fascism though. I don’t know how well Mussolini was/is admired/revered here(or hated for that matter), but to me there seems to be a certain “je ne sais quoi” air about the place. Having said that, there is definitely a reverence for literature and in particular the writings of James Joyce. He lived in Trieste, apparently, and there is a museum dedicated to his memory (!), and the James Joyce Bookstore at the train station.

And then there are the cafés. Trieste has a hardcore café culture. One could spend a week just going to cafés, never repeating a visit, and there would be lots left over. After 2 or 3 days of applying ones self to said task, one might figure out proper café etiquette, as a bonus. However, one would probably put on at least 10 pounds, due to the delectable goodies on offer.

Photos of Venice - dudes and all!

Lovely Venice

A quiet canal, and a relief above the doorway of a residence.

Venice

Venice is the most beautiful city I have ever been to. Almost nothing in the city is unattractive. It is a continuous, wondrous, magnificent work of art. Venice feels different from the rest of Italy, from the moment you set foot there. It has it’s own rhythm, a different heart beat from the rest of the country. Maybe it has never really lost its identity as a city-state. The first thing I noticed when I exited the train station upon arrival from Ravenna, was how quiet it is. No cars. No scooters. Only water buses and taxis and cargo boats. And of course those are only on the canals.

Away from the canals there is only pedestrian traffic.

Once I got myself oriented and on the first water-bus to get to my B&B, I realized that everyone is in the same boat, so to speak, with regard to travelling speed and commuting time. It’s pretty much all public transit, and so you don’t really have a choice as to how to get from point A to point B. No running red lights, no honking horns, stalled cars, no collisions, no road rage. And the only short-cuts are on foot. Although these craft can become frighteningly crowded, with commuter packed in like sardines.

The B&B I booked is situated on an island just off Venice, called San Erasmo. Once you get from the train station to the far side of Venice, you must transfer to another water bus. All in all it takes about an hour to get from station to San Erazmo. I decided to go straight there rather than start exploring Venice, since it was already about 3:00, and I really had no idea where I was! Good thing too, because by the time I got settled into my room (it’s about a 15 minute hike down a rural road to the B&B, dragging the suitcase behind), it was well after 4:00 and that left less than an hour of daylight.

Yes, October 26, and it was dark by 5:30 in Venice. I mean DARK dark. Anyway, I was able to get dinner there and I spent the rest of the evening working on my blog update and emailing and e-chatting with my sons.

Next morning after breakfast I headed back to Venice, to Piazza San Marco, the very heart of Venice. It was crawling with tourist, of course. There was a long line up for the Palazzo Ducale, but a short one for the Basilica di San Marco, so I opted for the Basilica to kick things off. Well, I was turned away on account of the fact that I had a day pack on my back. Apparently there was a place for visitors to check their packs whilst in the Basilica, but I couldn’t find it (have I mentioned how wanting Italians signage is?), and so I decided to re-group and organize my thoughts and plans.

First, I just wanted to take in the splendour and hugeness of Piazza San Marco, framed on four sides by the marvellous buildings that have been there, surrounding this gathering place since as far back as the 8th century. Just think of all the people who have walked across the piazza over the past 1200 years! One of the many incomprehensible aspects of Venice. After helping out a few couples with taking their photos, I decided it was time to find the tourist info office, and find out what’s the what. And a WC. (That’ll be 1.5 euros, please.)

Purchasing a museum pass at the info centre was a pretty good idea, since it got me straight into the Palazzo Ducale. What a place that is. Wow! It is very well laid out, with just enough information to tell you what you are looking at, but not so much that it gets bogged down with details. Fabulous paintings and frescoes in spectacular rooms, each with a specific purpose for the governing bodies and the judiciary. Tiepolo, Veronese, Tintoretto, and (Colin’s fave) Tiziano (aka Titian) were the main artist whose works hang in these sumptuous rooms. I took my time here, ‘cause Venice just lets me feel like that’s a good idea, well over 2 hours.

After that, it was a walk through the Basilica di San Marco. This time I was able to find the “guadaroba” to stash my day-pack, first. A huge, huge church with multiple domes, the inside walls and domes are primarily decorated with mosaics. Having just come from Ravenna, though, I think it’s safe to say that these ones don’t hold a candle to the mosaics in San Vitale. Not nearly as much design and detail, they look like mosaics, whereas the ones in S.V. look like paintings. Still a very impressive place, both inside and out.

I needed to find some lunch, that wasn’t pizza or a close facsimile thereof, and I needed to sit down. So, off I hiked in search of a cheap, sit down lunch in Venice. “Cheap” and “Venice” do not co-exist in the same discourse. Anyway, I found a teeny-tiny shrimp sandwich and an espresso for about C$8. It gave me about 20 minutes off my feet, and that would have to do!

The rest of my day was spent at the other end of the Piazza S. Marco in the Museo Correr which holds many, many, many, many artefacts concerning the history of Venice in its daily life, and many fine paintings and sculptures. After an hour and a half of that though, I had pretty much hit the wall! So, a little bleary eyed, I staggered out into the fading afternoon light. The Piazzo was much less peopled by then and the various restaurants were setting up for the evening ahead, putting out tables and chairs for the next onslaught of hungry tourists. I chose to eat elsewhere, at Fondamente Nuova where I caught my first water bus to, on my way back to my B&B. I had a nice dish of pasta and a glass of wine and a delicious cup of cioccolata calda con panna (artery clogger hot chocolate).

After that I still had over a half hour to kill before my next bus, so I wandered around a bit only to discover a whole other region of Venice that was full of locals with their little ones, socializing in the Campo di S.S. Giovanni e Paulo surrounding what must be the largest church in Venice. A lovely scene, with parents and kids and grandparents, stopping on their ways home from work or school or shopping, to skate board, kick a soccer ball, share gossip, have a drink (usually something in a large wine glass, a disturbing neon orange in colour. I didn’t have the nerve to try it - I thought I might glow in the dark, if I did…). Church congregation numbers may be dwindling, but the activity outside that edifice is still vibrant, and I guess a testimony to the enduring importance of the church in the community.

I so enjoyed the quick peak into this other world of Venice, that I promised myself that I would come back the next day, only earlier in the afternoon, which I did, I’m happy to report! That day was dedicated to just wandering through different parts of Venice, completely without any tourism information and armed only with a map (what little help that offered! Okay, it was useful for using the water bus system, but all that info is posted at the stops, anyway. Once you figure out the water bus system, Venice is really pretty easy to navigate.)

I started out my day at Murano, the island where Venetian glass comes from. It is yet another spectacularly beautiful place. The island is like a miniature Venice, almost, with these absolutely magnificent glass creations in hundreds of glass shops. You would think that after a while you would be seeing repeats of the same old hack hunka silicone. But you’d be wrong. It is simply miraculous, the seemingly endless creative bounty expressed in glass. Bowls, bottles, glasses, vases, plates, sculptures, jewellery, lamps - the list goes on. Of course there are repeats of the little cheesy cheap stuff, but they are very easy to ignore when right next is an eye popping, dazzling thing of exquisite beauty. I was all keen to go to the glass museum there, but sadly, it was closed that day. Huge disappointment. I guess I will have to try again next time, but not on a Wednesday.

Onward to Venice proper, where I disembarked at the Jewish Ghetto. This would actually be a very interesting part of Venice to stay in, but even here I’m sure it is out of my price range. So quiet and subdued and maybe the most mysterious part of Venice, for me. It is where the only Chinese restaurant is, that I saw which looked completely weird and out of place. And of course it is where the Jewish community is centred, with subsequent Ebraico (Hebrew) street names, and business and restaurants.

A couple more stops and wanderings along the Grand Canal, and I realized that Rialto was next. Of course, I had to check out Rialto. Here is the one place in Venice that I would not go back to. The crush of tourists was overwhelming, and they were pretty much there to spend lots of cash at really expensive shops, or pretend to. I think I lasted about 15 minutes there.

I was able to see a bit more that day, and the next, but then I left in the early afternoon for Trieste, by train, feeling anxious to get started on the “eastern” part of my travels, but also vowing to come back to lovely, beautiful Venice.

Pompeii and Mt Vesuvius

Pompeii and Mt. Vesuvius.