Our train trip to Kosice, in the East of Slovakia, was boring but relaxing - we had a compartment to ourselves the whole way, but it was raining and we couldn't really see anything out of the window. We arrived at the main station of Kosice with nothing more than the address of the hostel (well done me), but managed to find it with the help of locals (who say they don't speak english, but what they mean is that they couldn't write in it at a univeristy level. Modest, that's them). It was actually more of a hotel, and most of the places we've stayed, strangely empty. Kosice is a very nice town - a few beautiful streets of old town, dominated by an enormous cathedral, surrounded by vast swathes of soviet apartment blocks. Very much like every other town in this part of the world. We spent some time walking around though, and in the evening had a beer at tables on the street, while a weird, incomprehensible street theatre performance went on next to the church. It seems a very lively place.
On Wednesday the weather was still awful, and we pottered about, using the internet and finding lunch, until it was time to go and pick up our rental car. Totally unable to decipher the ticket machine, we bought a ticket of some kind, and got on the bus to the airport. This turned out to be our undoing. Partway through the journey, we were accosted by an alleged ticket inspector. He was a fat, greasy man wearing a grey tracksuit and a smirk, and, through the interpretation of a (very charming lady) bystander, explained that we'd bought a 4 stop ticket, but we were going six stops, and therefore had to pay him 55 euros each. We fought this, naturally, but he took petty delight in insisting we pay the fine, all the time smirking and with a smug gleam in his piggy little eyes. At the airport, he only let Margot off the bus, and I had to wait while she went to get cash. I'm sure he was just pocketing it, and I was furious, especially as he wouldn't even meet my eye. Anyway, the whole experience soured Kosice for us a little.
Nevertheless, we got the car - a little black Fiat Punto - including the GPS system, thank god, and headed gingerly off into oncoming traffic. Not really, but it felt like it. It is very nervewracking driving on the wrong side of the car, on the wrong side of the road. But there were no accidents, and we made our way through the countryside to Levoca. We passed through a particular town where there were many gypsies standing by the side of the road, making no effort to sell berries. At first I thought they were about to throw a bucket of stones onto the car, but we passed more and more of them, all just holding buckets of berries. Marketing skills were conspicuous in their absence. As they clustered thicker and thicker, we passed a shanty town, covering a hillside like something out of a nightmare - dirty shacks and tracks, with fires belching smoke and dirty children running in the dirt with mangy dogs. It looked totally out of place. The GPS then took us across country for some reason, on a tiny little road over rolling hills of farmland. Very lovely. Levoca was reached at some point, and we checked into our hotel, which was very very nice, and only 37 euros for the night! That's not each, either. We spent the evening wandering around Levoca, which is so pretty I almost died. Dinner was cheese, salami and bread on a bench in the square, watching gypsy children play.
On Thursday morning we breakfasted well, it being included in the room price, then hauled off again to trust ourselves to the GPS. We drove in a curve to the north, skirting the High Tatras, which are magnificent. We drove through beautiful country, up windy mountain roads and through picturesque valleys. Although there is a fair bit of logging going on, this is some of the most beautiful country I've ever seen, like something out of a fairytale. This is why I wanted to drive through Slovakia - to get off the public transport track a bit and see the rural areas. I wasn't disappointed. It was magiacal all the way to our destination, Banska Stiavnica, in the south. This was an old german mining town from the middle ages, built on a very steep hill, with a huge castle at the top. We had a great room again, huge and super cheap, but on a street which was closed, so the GPS then took us down the most terrifying, tiny winding steep cobbled "street", which was barely wider than the car. I managed to get through with only a bit of a scrape on one hubcap. The town is all like that, though - tiny steep mediaeval streets. It was beautiful - houses over several hillsides looking over the central town as well, and quite heavily forested. We took many photos, and shared a pizza at a local cafe. Zlaty Bazant is 83 euro cents for half a litre here.
This morning (I'm catching up!) we had another free breakfast, then took a torturous route out of town trying to avoid the closed street. Our GPS kept up its usual delightful habit of taking us a scenic back road through the mountains. This one was narrow and incredibly windy (the bendy kind, not the blowy kind), but luckily I was starting to get the hang of the car. Once we were out of the mountains and onto the freeway towards Bratislava, things got more boring. The landscape was mostly flat, and there were roadworks every three metres with insane speed limit changes. Incidentally, there are hardly any speed limit signs in this country, so it's a miracle I didn't get a ticket. I generally erred on the side of slow, especially as we were sightseeing anyway. I found out when we dropped the car off that the limit on freeways is 140, but is there a sign telling you that? No there isn't, is the answer to that question. Anyway, we made it, handed over the keys, then got a bus (with the correct ticket, thankyou another kind lady on the bus) to the main train station. Thence a tram into the city, then following wrong directions, getting lost, and finally making our way to the faded soviet glory of our hotel. We are in a tiny brown room on the 14th floor of a hideous block of a building. Actually it looks a bit like Fisher library.
We threw ourselves into Bratislava with the energy of invading Turks, charging around the old city seeing everything. We went into the Primate's Palace where Napolean signed the Treaty of something-or-other, we walked around the old town, we went up to the castle and saw the panorama in the rain. Which has been profuse. The Danube has flooded a little bit, and is flowing fast and strong. There are images of terrible flooding on the news, though we can't understand what the descriptions are. Speaking of news, Michael Jackson died! There is a CNN channel in the hotel and we sat and ate bread and cheese and watched endless coverage of MJ-related stuff. Just this afternoon in the car, listening to MJ on the radio, I was talking about how he's managed to become a superstar without having to die at the peak of his career. Little did I know he was already dead. Anyway, despite our terrible sadness, we left the terrifying 14th floor open window of our cell and ventured out into the clearing night. In the main square of the old town was a jazz concert, Scott Hamilton and the All Swing Trio, or something like that, and we sat and listened to them as the sun went down and the lights on the palaces and in the fountain came up.
And that's me up to date! I'm sure I've missed things, and I always miss thoughts and musings as there isn't really room (or rather I don't have time to write it all). Unfortunately this is my journal as well as my communiqué, so hopefully it's enough.
Tomorrow, Munich!
Friday, June 26, 2009
Budapest
Trains over here are confusing - one half of the train goes to one destination, the other half goes somewhere wlse entirely. Luckily we were helped by a guard, and managed to get on the half going to Budapest. The train journey was very pretty - Hungary is a very very green and pretty place. We arrived, and instantly felt lost. Hungarian is the weirdest language ever, and is not related to anything we recognise. Richard Dreyfuss helped us buy our onward ticket to Slovakia (always be prepared), then we somehow managed to find our way to the hostel. Which turned out to be an apartment occupied by a fatalistic Chicago man named Jimmy, who instilled in us an irrational fear of strangers, and pointed out the people "trapped forever, screaming in pain" in the sculpture on the outside of many of the buildings. We were given our own room in a huge apartment in a 19th century building, run down like all the others in the street, with an internal courtyard and ceilings 15 feet high. It was late, but we ventured nervously out, clutching our valuables, and wandered around the darkened city until bed time.
In the morning, we went to St Stephen's Basilica, a huge church with an incredibly ornate marble and gold interior. I climbed the many twisting stairs to the top, only to find I could have taken an elevator. The view was worth it though. Descending, I rejoined M and we made our way across the Chain Bridge, a stately 19th century suspension bridge across the Danube to Buda, the side of the city with the palace and so on. This was on top of a steep hill, up which we were hauled by the coolest funicular I have ever seen. It was practically steampunk - like something out of Jules Verne. I think it was built in 1844, but can't quite remember. At the top, we were accosted by a friendly-seeming tour guide, trying to sell his tour. He was a nice looking old chap with a glorious moustache, but when I tried to say we weren't interested he flipped and grabbed the front of his head, yelling "don't interrupt me, let me finish my sentence". We let him finish and then walked away, slightly shaken. The top of the hill in buda is lovely - we walked over Fishermen's Bastion, with a lovely view over to the parliament, had a too expensive lunch (1200 forints for a very meagre sandwich), then wandered over to the palace, which now houses an art gallery. After gorging on art, we managed to find a supermarket buried in the bowels of the biggest mall in the universe, then went home for dinner. Accompanied by a very drinkable 500 forint bottle of wine. After dinner we went to a very cool little bar that Jimmy had recommended, and tried some of the local brandy. Or possibly it was metho, it was hard to tell.
The next day was the end of hot weather, and the start of rain. We went to the undercover market hall, and wandered around lost in a sea of meats of all kinds, fresh fruit and veg, sweets (some of which we bought, very cheap, and made ourselves slightly ill), and spices. Upstairs is all manner of souvenirs, tacky and otherwise, and food and bars. Apparently you can get a drinkable glass of wine for 80 forints. That's about 50 cents in real money. After sampling that, we went up the road to the National Museum, ate our lunch on the steps, then went inside and explored the history! Then returned home for dinner, and out again for the festival. This was a huge event - the metro stations had little music groups playing in them, all the museums had live events, either usic or dancing or medieval reenactments. We went back to the palace, via the funicular, where they were playing classical music of various types in the art gallery, and finished with a ska concert in the forecourt. Budapest is magical at night.
On Sunday we got up earlyish and went down to the river to catch a ferry upstream to a little town called Szentendre. It was cool and drizzly, but the ride was fun, and the town was just gorgeous. It was very touristy, but in an upmarket way, and it felt very posh. Beautifully restored, it ranged over a hill next to the river, and was all twisty cobblestone streets and nineteenth century buildings. We went to a very cool contemporary art space in an old mill, and had sandwiches on the banks of the Danube. I found the shop of a family knife company I'd seen in the market hall in Budapest, and drooled for a while. They are all handmade traditional shepherd's knives, and the family has been making them for over 200 years. Walnut handles, brass, silver and bone decoration, and hardened stell blades...but I digress. There was also a marzipan museum in the town, which was sort of horribly fascinating. The trip back to Budapest took half the time.
On Monday morning we trekked across town with a garbage bag full of clothes, in the rain, to the only laundrette in Budapest. It advertised itself as "self service", but the lady working there did it all for us, and we just paid her. Quite alot, too. We went and sat in a cafe while we waited, and the rain did clear up a little. After that we went back to the market hall for a hearty cheap lunch, and I caved and bought one of those knives, but M made me ship it back to the UK in case there was a repeat of my Eurostar security incident. There have been countless times since then that it would have been invaluable, but there you are. In the afternoon, we went to the Szechenyi public baths, in the city park. This is a huge complex, with outdoor pools of different temperatures, and indoor mineral pools of everything from 20 to 40 degrees, in wonderful ornate surroundings. There is also a sauna with a 16 degree plunge pool. We spent 3 hours just turning into prunes, and alternately baking and freezing ourselves. After that we were so clean and invigorated that we went home, ate dinner, and totally crashed.
Tuesday morning we bid adieu to Budapest, and set off for Slovakia.
In the morning, we went to St Stephen's Basilica, a huge church with an incredibly ornate marble and gold interior. I climbed the many twisting stairs to the top, only to find I could have taken an elevator. The view was worth it though. Descending, I rejoined M and we made our way across the Chain Bridge, a stately 19th century suspension bridge across the Danube to Buda, the side of the city with the palace and so on. This was on top of a steep hill, up which we were hauled by the coolest funicular I have ever seen. It was practically steampunk - like something out of Jules Verne. I think it was built in 1844, but can't quite remember. At the top, we were accosted by a friendly-seeming tour guide, trying to sell his tour. He was a nice looking old chap with a glorious moustache, but when I tried to say we weren't interested he flipped and grabbed the front of his head, yelling "don't interrupt me, let me finish my sentence". We let him finish and then walked away, slightly shaken. The top of the hill in buda is lovely - we walked over Fishermen's Bastion, with a lovely view over to the parliament, had a too expensive lunch (1200 forints for a very meagre sandwich), then wandered over to the palace, which now houses an art gallery. After gorging on art, we managed to find a supermarket buried in the bowels of the biggest mall in the universe, then went home for dinner. Accompanied by a very drinkable 500 forint bottle of wine. After dinner we went to a very cool little bar that Jimmy had recommended, and tried some of the local brandy. Or possibly it was metho, it was hard to tell.
The next day was the end of hot weather, and the start of rain. We went to the undercover market hall, and wandered around lost in a sea of meats of all kinds, fresh fruit and veg, sweets (some of which we bought, very cheap, and made ourselves slightly ill), and spices. Upstairs is all manner of souvenirs, tacky and otherwise, and food and bars. Apparently you can get a drinkable glass of wine for 80 forints. That's about 50 cents in real money. After sampling that, we went up the road to the National Museum, ate our lunch on the steps, then went inside and explored the history! Then returned home for dinner, and out again for the festival. This was a huge event - the metro stations had little music groups playing in them, all the museums had live events, either usic or dancing or medieval reenactments. We went back to the palace, via the funicular, where they were playing classical music of various types in the art gallery, and finished with a ska concert in the forecourt. Budapest is magical at night.
On Sunday we got up earlyish and went down to the river to catch a ferry upstream to a little town called Szentendre. It was cool and drizzly, but the ride was fun, and the town was just gorgeous. It was very touristy, but in an upmarket way, and it felt very posh. Beautifully restored, it ranged over a hill next to the river, and was all twisty cobblestone streets and nineteenth century buildings. We went to a very cool contemporary art space in an old mill, and had sandwiches on the banks of the Danube. I found the shop of a family knife company I'd seen in the market hall in Budapest, and drooled for a while. They are all handmade traditional shepherd's knives, and the family has been making them for over 200 years. Walnut handles, brass, silver and bone decoration, and hardened stell blades...but I digress. There was also a marzipan museum in the town, which was sort of horribly fascinating. The trip back to Budapest took half the time.
On Monday morning we trekked across town with a garbage bag full of clothes, in the rain, to the only laundrette in Budapest. It advertised itself as "self service", but the lady working there did it all for us, and we just paid her. Quite alot, too. We went and sat in a cafe while we waited, and the rain did clear up a little. After that we went back to the market hall for a hearty cheap lunch, and I caved and bought one of those knives, but M made me ship it back to the UK in case there was a repeat of my Eurostar security incident. There have been countless times since then that it would have been invaluable, but there you are. In the afternoon, we went to the Szechenyi public baths, in the city park. This is a huge complex, with outdoor pools of different temperatures, and indoor mineral pools of everything from 20 to 40 degrees, in wonderful ornate surroundings. There is also a sauna with a 16 degree plunge pool. We spent 3 hours just turning into prunes, and alternately baking and freezing ourselves. After that we were so clean and invigorated that we went home, ate dinner, and totally crashed.
Tuesday morning we bid adieu to Budapest, and set off for Slovakia.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Zagreb
I'm running a little behind now, but to fill in on Zagreb at least:
On Tuesday morning we met up with the guy we had met on Hvar. He took us to his office and showed us the applications he builds, and gave us lots of samples. It really is pretty amazing stuff. In the afternoon we went to a couple of museums, and then had dinner at an awesome cafe with tables filling up an old cobbled street. It was cheap, great food, and we gorged.
On Wednesday we went to the city museum of Zagreb, which was vaguely interesting, and then to the archaeology museum, which was awesome. It was really really hot, so we were glad of being in airconditioned buildings for the day.
As I've said, I really like this city. All the buildings are actually made of brick, but rendered to look like they are solid stone, and painted all different colours. It's all wide and open and lovely (at least in the city centre), and all the lamp posts have flower boxes on them. Very picture-skew.
We had dinner at Nokturno again (the little street cafe), as it was the best deal we had found.
Sleeping in Zagreb was not so easy, as we were in a dorm which was sort of also a corridor, and there were various snorers, talkers, and early-risers. Also, despite the hostel being quite clean, there was a bit of a bed-bug scare, which stressed us out more than I can say. Thankfully, we seem to have shaken the curse and gotten away with nothing more than a bit of itching. It wasn't enough to put us off being in love with Croatia.
On the Thursday we took a very pretty train journey (though entirely unairconditioned and very breathless) to Budapest, of which I will write later, as I have a train to catch.
On Tuesday morning we met up with the guy we had met on Hvar. He took us to his office and showed us the applications he builds, and gave us lots of samples. It really is pretty amazing stuff. In the afternoon we went to a couple of museums, and then had dinner at an awesome cafe with tables filling up an old cobbled street. It was cheap, great food, and we gorged.
On Wednesday we went to the city museum of Zagreb, which was vaguely interesting, and then to the archaeology museum, which was awesome. It was really really hot, so we were glad of being in airconditioned buildings for the day.
As I've said, I really like this city. All the buildings are actually made of brick, but rendered to look like they are solid stone, and painted all different colours. It's all wide and open and lovely (at least in the city centre), and all the lamp posts have flower boxes on them. Very picture-skew.
We had dinner at Nokturno again (the little street cafe), as it was the best deal we had found.
Sleeping in Zagreb was not so easy, as we were in a dorm which was sort of also a corridor, and there were various snorers, talkers, and early-risers. Also, despite the hostel being quite clean, there was a bit of a bed-bug scare, which stressed us out more than I can say. Thankfully, we seem to have shaken the curse and gotten away with nothing more than a bit of itching. It wasn't enough to put us off being in love with Croatia.
On the Thursday we took a very pretty train journey (though entirely unairconditioned and very breathless) to Budapest, of which I will write later, as I have a train to catch.
Monday, June 15, 2009
The metropolis of Zagreb
We have come to our final city in Croatia, Zagreb, the capital. After the mediaeval towns and brilliant waters of the coast, I wasn't expecting much, but Zagreb has cast aside my mean prejudices and leapt into my affections. I am finding it hard to imagine encountering a country that I like more than Croatia. It's capital is a light, open city of grand nineteenth century buildings, thanks to the Austro-Hungarian empire and it's draconian city planning rules. It is full of green spaces, grand avenues, and museums. There is a comprehensive network of clean modern trams which are quiet and easy to use. It is not remotely crowded, though there are people, and they are all laid back and wealthy looking. I have no idea how they do it, it doesn't seem quite real. It presents as just about the most liveable city I've ever seen.
We arrived on the train in the afternoon, and checked into Fulir hostel, run by an extremely character-filled local. Dorm room, this time - it's a great atmosphere here, though not if you just want restful sleep at whatever time you choose. We headed straight out to a free concert that was on in a park behind the beautiful neo-gothic cathedral - see what I mean about Zagreb? Apparently there's free stuff like this on all the time all through summer. And summer it is - we slept sweating, in our upstairs, barely-ventilated dorm. This morning we ventured out to find some museums - it was already nearly 30 degrees when we left - only to find that, being Monday, everything is shut, for some reason. The only thorn in an otherwise rosy town, I guess. We have spent the day doing a couple of self-guided walking tours (which, as they'd run out of english, we had to do using the french, which was poorly translated on the run by yours truly), and going to, of all places, the zoo, which had a distressing lack of any sort of staff.
We're tired, and hot, and we've got a lot of museuming to catch up on. Goodnight.
We arrived on the train in the afternoon, and checked into Fulir hostel, run by an extremely character-filled local. Dorm room, this time - it's a great atmosphere here, though not if you just want restful sleep at whatever time you choose. We headed straight out to a free concert that was on in a park behind the beautiful neo-gothic cathedral - see what I mean about Zagreb? Apparently there's free stuff like this on all the time all through summer. And summer it is - we slept sweating, in our upstairs, barely-ventilated dorm. This morning we ventured out to find some museums - it was already nearly 30 degrees when we left - only to find that, being Monday, everything is shut, for some reason. The only thorn in an otherwise rosy town, I guess. We have spent the day doing a couple of self-guided walking tours (which, as they'd run out of english, we had to do using the french, which was poorly translated on the run by yours truly), and going to, of all places, the zoo, which had a distressing lack of any sort of staff.
We're tired, and hot, and we've got a lot of museuming to catch up on. Goodnight.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Adventures on an island
Yesterday we decided to head out from Split on the ferry to the island of Hvar, which has a beautiful fortress, city walls etc. The ferry ride took nearly two hours, and we were sunburnt again, proving my theory that the fancy shmancy cosmetics-brand sunscreen we bought is totally useless. Anyway, on arrival we jumped on the bus to the city of Hvar (yes, it´s confusing), which the guidebook said was 4km away, but was actually 22 or something. Yes.
So, no sooner had we arrived, but I realised I had left my camera on the bus. Again. Panic panic panic. The people in the tourist information office tried to call the bus office, and told us that the bus would have gone back to the depot in Stari Grad, which is where the ferry had originally dropped us. They deposited us in the care of a man who as far as we could tell had no connection to the office, saying he would take us to the bus depot. Impressed as we were with people´s friendliness, we had, as yet, no idea. This guy, Ervin, runs a multimedia company which develops interactive tours for museums, allowing you to virtually visit them, zoom down into the artworks and so on. He is, as Margot says, ¨the coolest guy in the world¨ - vegetarian, doesn´t drink, does transcendental meditation, has a journalist wife, and all his friends seem to be movie directors. He proceeded to find the buses (I got my camera back), take us to lunch, and drive us to another small town, Jelsa, where he had a meeting. He has proposed that as we are heading to Zagreb, we go to see him in his office and he can show us the software and try to recruit Margot. Getting in at the ground floor, so to speak, so that as she embarks on her career in museums, she may provide business opportunities for his company.
So losing my camera turned out to have a silver lining, especially since I got it back. We finally have an awesome crazy travel story, and Margot may have made an awesome contact. All in all a great day.
So, no sooner had we arrived, but I realised I had left my camera on the bus. Again. Panic panic panic. The people in the tourist information office tried to call the bus office, and told us that the bus would have gone back to the depot in Stari Grad, which is where the ferry had originally dropped us. They deposited us in the care of a man who as far as we could tell had no connection to the office, saying he would take us to the bus depot. Impressed as we were with people´s friendliness, we had, as yet, no idea. This guy, Ervin, runs a multimedia company which develops interactive tours for museums, allowing you to virtually visit them, zoom down into the artworks and so on. He is, as Margot says, ¨the coolest guy in the world¨ - vegetarian, doesn´t drink, does transcendental meditation, has a journalist wife, and all his friends seem to be movie directors. He proceeded to find the buses (I got my camera back), take us to lunch, and drive us to another small town, Jelsa, where he had a meeting. He has proposed that as we are heading to Zagreb, we go to see him in his office and he can show us the software and try to recruit Margot. Getting in at the ground floor, so to speak, so that as she embarks on her career in museums, she may provide business opportunities for his company.
So losing my camera turned out to have a silver lining, especially since I got it back. We finally have an awesome crazy travel story, and Margot may have made an awesome contact. All in all a great day.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Some photos
I have put up a couple of photos to give an idea of where we've been. I have many more, of course, but to see a very small selection click here.
Split - We have a very nice room, basically in a lady's apartment. She's a bit of a character. Oh, Croatians are a bit funny about letting you do your own washing for some reason. They will do it for you, though. Maybe they don't trust you not to break their washing machines.
I somehow lost confirmation of the hostel I thought I'd booked for Split, so we booked this place. At about 10pm we got a call from the other place wondering where we were, so it looks like we're paying for two hostels, at least for one night. Also I think she may have cried, though she could have been laughing, it was hard to tell.
Diocletian's palace is awesome - a huge roman palace that has been built in and changed and lived on for 1700 years. Just a sort of mish-mash of old stone buildings that has been essentially turned into a big outdoor shopping centre, though there are still people living in precarious looking apartment buildings throughout.
More later.
Split - We have a very nice room, basically in a lady's apartment. She's a bit of a character. Oh, Croatians are a bit funny about letting you do your own washing for some reason. They will do it for you, though. Maybe they don't trust you not to break their washing machines.
I somehow lost confirmation of the hostel I thought I'd booked for Split, so we booked this place. At about 10pm we got a call from the other place wondering where we were, so it looks like we're paying for two hostels, at least for one night. Also I think she may have cried, though she could have been laughing, it was hard to tell.
Diocletian's palace is awesome - a huge roman palace that has been built in and changed and lived on for 1700 years. Just a sort of mish-mash of old stone buildings that has been essentially turned into a big outdoor shopping centre, though there are still people living in precarious looking apartment buildings throughout.
More later.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
In love with Dubrovnik
After a night in what indeed turned out to be a very nice hotel somehow booked at hostel prices, we headed south to Bari. The train was half an hour late or so, but we counted ourselves lucky, as most of the trains were three hours late. Ours was pretty modern and nice, except there was no canteen, so we were on a 6 hour trip with only what we had brought with us. Arrival was marked with a reasonably thrilling cab ride to the port, check-in, dinner, then waiting for hours and hours in the wind and rain with many other travellers, as the time of departure came and went with no sign of the ship, no announcements or communication, etc. We eventually boarded two hours late, found our windowless cabin at the end of a terrifying maze of tiny corridors, and went straight to sleep to the sound of the engine and the waves, and the rocking of the boat.
We arrived excited and slightly woozy, and were met by Zeljka, the woman who runs the guesthouse - really just an extra part of her house that she rents out in summer. She is lovely; full of shy overexcitement and generosity. She took us on a little sightseeing drive, then back to the guesthouse for coffee and biscuits. Our room has a view like you wouldn't believe, out over the main port to the islands. After coffee we headed into the old town, and I fell absolutely head over heels. I had been looking forward to it so much, and it surpassed expectations. Huge limestone walls encircle a town made entirely of stone, half of it in winding mediaeval alleys, and half rebuilt in the 17th century after a major earthquake. The air is full of swallows swooping and twisting like insects, and there are cats everywhere, sunning themselves in various picturesque spots. It is surrounded on two sides with the ayure waters of the Adriatic, which is dotted with sailboats, cruise ships, and little tourist vessels.
We ventured into numerous museums - the Franciscan and Dominican monastaries each have one, in rooms off their gorgeous cloisters. We had lunch at a restaurant on the old port - huge servings of excellent seafood - and tried some of a local homemade myrtle brandy. Despite it being Sunday, we stuck our noses in a few churches as well - there are alot of them for a reasonably small city. Croatia is 90 percent Roman Catholic, so I suppose there is heaps of demand for praying space. We went looking for some memory cards, as Margot had used hers up already and mine was almost full. Every touristy shop seemed to sell them, but for around 450 kuna for a 4 gigabyte card. That is 112 dollars, so I was a bit furious. We eventually found a shop selling them for 105 kuna, though, so no problem. Bizarre difference in price though - I would have thought the competition of that shop would drive the others' prices down.
After some dinner pizza slices, we got home and collapsed exhausted. In the morning we headed off early, and got a ferry accross to Lokrum, a small island opposite the old city. There is an old monastary which was turned into a villa by an Austro-Hungarian prince, abandoned, ruined, then turned into a restaurant. I forced Margot to find the fortress which was apparently at the top of the island, which we eventually did, and I thought the views were worth the hard slog. Besides, it earned us a swim. And what a swim it was. I desperately want to show a photo, but I have yet again forgotten my cable. The water here is so incredible. Just crystal clear and clean. It is so calm, too, not a wave; which was good as the "beach" was some steps off the rocks.
Returning to the mainland, we paid our 50 kuna for access to the city walls, and did the full circuit, taking about ten thousand photographs. The city was heavily shelled in 1991 during the war with Serbia, and manq of the original roofs were destroyed. They have been replaced with a different colour - a vibrant terracotta - part of an ongoing (almost finished) restoration project. Dinner on Monday was cooked at home, and Zeljka told us she'd made us pancakes for breakfast but we'd left before whe could bring them. We were crushed, it's like kicking a puppy. I don't mean to be patronising, she's just so sweet.
Yesterday, Tuesday, we went on an island cruise, which we were talked into by a charismatic local man with only half his teeth. His character alone convinced us, but it was good value - 250 kuna including lunch. No one really talked much on the boat, which was weird, but the scenery was amazing, and it was a beautiful day. The first island was a bit disappointing, not least because it was covered with Croatian teenagers (nothing against Croatian teenagers in particular, just tennagers in general. I'm getting old), but the water was nice and we finally saw some of the spiny sea urchins everyone has told us about. The second island was perfect - super picturesque, with a tiny stone town and old church, and we went for a swim off the docks, after waiting for a middle aged german couple to unload a dog in a life jacket from their inflatable boat.
We had lunch on the boat there, and it was delicious - a whole barbecued fish of some kind, bread, salad, wine. Brilliant. The third island killed the joy - a horrible slog over the spine of the (admittedly gorgeous) island - to a nice beach where we swam again, and had an ice cream. All our swimming has had to be one at a time, because we're paranoid about leaving our belongings for any amount of time. On the way back to the boat, tired, thirsty, sunburnt, and facing a hill, we caved and paid for a man in a golf cart to ferry us back. On the boat back to the mainland we just stared blankly at the passing vista, then caught the bus back to the guesthouse, had some dinner, and died.
So that's up to date. This morning we did administrative stuff, then went into the old town for some lunch - the food here is great, by the way - and to finish off the last couple of museums. It really doesn't get old. Every time we go to the old city, my mouth falls open and I go into a fit of photography, trying to take it all in. It kills me that I can't come here every day. It is honestly the most beautiful thing ever, and I want it.
We arrived excited and slightly woozy, and were met by Zeljka, the woman who runs the guesthouse - really just an extra part of her house that she rents out in summer. She is lovely; full of shy overexcitement and generosity. She took us on a little sightseeing drive, then back to the guesthouse for coffee and biscuits. Our room has a view like you wouldn't believe, out over the main port to the islands. After coffee we headed into the old town, and I fell absolutely head over heels. I had been looking forward to it so much, and it surpassed expectations. Huge limestone walls encircle a town made entirely of stone, half of it in winding mediaeval alleys, and half rebuilt in the 17th century after a major earthquake. The air is full of swallows swooping and twisting like insects, and there are cats everywhere, sunning themselves in various picturesque spots. It is surrounded on two sides with the ayure waters of the Adriatic, which is dotted with sailboats, cruise ships, and little tourist vessels.
We ventured into numerous museums - the Franciscan and Dominican monastaries each have one, in rooms off their gorgeous cloisters. We had lunch at a restaurant on the old port - huge servings of excellent seafood - and tried some of a local homemade myrtle brandy. Despite it being Sunday, we stuck our noses in a few churches as well - there are alot of them for a reasonably small city. Croatia is 90 percent Roman Catholic, so I suppose there is heaps of demand for praying space. We went looking for some memory cards, as Margot had used hers up already and mine was almost full. Every touristy shop seemed to sell them, but for around 450 kuna for a 4 gigabyte card. That is 112 dollars, so I was a bit furious. We eventually found a shop selling them for 105 kuna, though, so no problem. Bizarre difference in price though - I would have thought the competition of that shop would drive the others' prices down.
After some dinner pizza slices, we got home and collapsed exhausted. In the morning we headed off early, and got a ferry accross to Lokrum, a small island opposite the old city. There is an old monastary which was turned into a villa by an Austro-Hungarian prince, abandoned, ruined, then turned into a restaurant. I forced Margot to find the fortress which was apparently at the top of the island, which we eventually did, and I thought the views were worth the hard slog. Besides, it earned us a swim. And what a swim it was. I desperately want to show a photo, but I have yet again forgotten my cable. The water here is so incredible. Just crystal clear and clean. It is so calm, too, not a wave; which was good as the "beach" was some steps off the rocks.
Returning to the mainland, we paid our 50 kuna for access to the city walls, and did the full circuit, taking about ten thousand photographs. The city was heavily shelled in 1991 during the war with Serbia, and manq of the original roofs were destroyed. They have been replaced with a different colour - a vibrant terracotta - part of an ongoing (almost finished) restoration project. Dinner on Monday was cooked at home, and Zeljka told us she'd made us pancakes for breakfast but we'd left before whe could bring them. We were crushed, it's like kicking a puppy. I don't mean to be patronising, she's just so sweet.
Yesterday, Tuesday, we went on an island cruise, which we were talked into by a charismatic local man with only half his teeth. His character alone convinced us, but it was good value - 250 kuna including lunch. No one really talked much on the boat, which was weird, but the scenery was amazing, and it was a beautiful day. The first island was a bit disappointing, not least because it was covered with Croatian teenagers (nothing against Croatian teenagers in particular, just tennagers in general. I'm getting old), but the water was nice and we finally saw some of the spiny sea urchins everyone has told us about. The second island was perfect - super picturesque, with a tiny stone town and old church, and we went for a swim off the docks, after waiting for a middle aged german couple to unload a dog in a life jacket from their inflatable boat.
We had lunch on the boat there, and it was delicious - a whole barbecued fish of some kind, bread, salad, wine. Brilliant. The third island killed the joy - a horrible slog over the spine of the (admittedly gorgeous) island - to a nice beach where we swam again, and had an ice cream. All our swimming has had to be one at a time, because we're paranoid about leaving our belongings for any amount of time. On the way back to the boat, tired, thirsty, sunburnt, and facing a hill, we caved and paid for a man in a golf cart to ferry us back. On the boat back to the mainland we just stared blankly at the passing vista, then caught the bus back to the guesthouse, had some dinner, and died.
So that's up to date. This morning we did administrative stuff, then went into the old town for some lunch - the food here is great, by the way - and to finish off the last couple of museums. It really doesn't get old. Every time we go to the old city, my mouth falls open and I go into a fit of photography, trying to take it all in. It kills me that I can't come here every day. It is honestly the most beautiful thing ever, and I want it.
Friday, June 5, 2009
I am so tired
We have had a very, very busy couple of days. Our first full day in Paris we almost killed ourselves, and we didn't really let up after that. Not having alot of time there, we were keen to do as much as possible, but I'm not exactly wearing the most comfortable shoes, and we didn't get the hang of eating cheaply until Tuesday, so Monday was sort of spent walking around feeling hungry. Nevertheless, amazing - we were so busy we hardly noticed.
So, Monday morning we had breakfast at the hostel, then set off for the centre of town. We walked to Les Abbesses, which is I think the best example of the Art Nouveau metro stations, and caught the train in to Les Halles, which is right in the middle of things. It was a public holiday, which was actually great because there weren't huge crowds and it was very peaceful. We walked from there to the Centre Pompidou, which is a big hideous building covered in coloured pipes, and houses the modern art gallery. Then we made our way through back streets into Le Marais and to the Place des Vosges, where Victor Hugo used to live - a big square of mansions built in, um, I think the 17th century or maybe the 18th, enclosing a central garden square. After that we visited Notre Dame, where my camera ran out of batteries, which made me mad because I had spare batteries I had bought for just such an eventuality, but had left them at the hostel.
Anyway, we continued walking all the way down the river to the Louvre, and spent a good amount of the afternoon walking around its endless - I mean that, it's stupidly huge - galleries. We saw all the big ones, of course; the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, etc. But Margot is also scarily knowledgable about everything else, and was able to give me a running commentary, which I listened to carefully and promptly forgot. I was able to provide us with yet another camera incident, as I somehow lost Margot's camera. Luckily, the very nice gallery attendant had spotted it and it was returned no fuss. After all of this excitement, we collapsed exhausted in the closest end of the Tuilerie gardens, then I somehow persuaded Margot to walk to the Eiffel Tower. That almost killed us, and we jumped on the nearest metro and went back to the hostel, went out for a meal in which the conversation consisted mostly of blank tired stares (very nice little restaurant though, right up in the famous square next to the Sacre Coeur), and went to bed.
OK, still with me? Tuesday. Still exhausted from the previous day, we set off for Versailles. i had been a couple of times before, but it's something that Margot's always wanted to do, and I could go hundreds of times. The palace is just spectacular. Built mostly by Louis XIV, it is a monument to the glory of the french monarchy (deceased). Some of it would seem overwhelmingly tasteless if you tried to decorate in a similar way today - lots and lots and lots of gilded everything - but here it works. It took us several hours to get through the palace, even without fully utilising the audio guide, after which we sat on the back steps of the palace and had our lunch, which mostly consisted of mini baguettes, melted butter, and jam; stolen from our free breakfast. I know, classy. Afer lunch we took the outrageously expensive "train" to the Trianons - Grand and Petit - and wandered around thinking what nice little summer houses they would make. And they wouldnàt be complete without Marie-Antoinette's amazingly Disneylandesque "peasant village". All of this took us eight hours or so, and we returned totally, totally exhausted.
Wednesday. In the morning we climbed up to the dome in the Sacre Coeur - the highest point in Paris, and an amazing view. I couldn't find where I wrote my name there last time - I think they may clean it every so often then let it fill up again. Keeping the theme of steps (sigh), we headed to the Arc de Triomphe, and paid a ridiculous amount of money for the privilege of going to the top. I probably wouldn't have bothered, but you have to, don't you, and it's the only thing I hadn't done before. Following the Champs-Elysées downhill, our next stop was the Musée d'Orsay, which made Margot's head explode. After an overload of art, we retreated, and went home. Only to go out again, to meet up with my friend Scott from high school and his partner, who have been living in Paris for nearly a year. We drank a little bit more wine than our worn-out bodies could really handle, but it was a great evening. I always regretted not keeping in contact with Scott, but it was great to find he hadn't changed - other than being ravaged by time, of course, but who among us hasn't been?
Almost there now, keep going. Thursday was a quitish day; a peaceful river cruise on the Bateaux-Mouches, followed by another stroll up to the Eiffel Tower, then back to the hostel to pick up our bags and go to the train station. The train to Bologna was pretty horrible, I have to say. Amazingly uncomfortable "beds", carriages in not the best state of repair, and fellow passengers we had to basically kick out of our compartment so we could set up the beds, and who stood talking directly outside for another couple of hours. But, we made it, and found our hostel. I say hostel, but it is basically a gorgeous little boutique hotel. We dropped our bags there and were invited to the full buffet breakfast (oh my god) for 5 euros, which I presume is charged to our room even though we haven't checked in yet. Now, I am fully prepared for them to tell me it costs 100 euros each or something, because we paid 42 euros altogether, which really seems suspicious for such a nice, three star hotel. We shall see. In the meantime we've wandered to the centre of Bologna, found the tourist information centre (not as easy as it sounds), and bought a guidebook to replace the one that I for some reason did not bring with me. Bologna is a medieval town, with ancient palaces and churches everywhere, as well as its own leaning tower (which is nine hundred years old, no less). But honestly, we're just here for a day off.
Right, that's me done. Not up to the standard I'd like, but there was too much to get through. If we keep up this pace I'm going to have to do an entry every day. I'll try and get a couple of photos up at some point, too.
So, Monday morning we had breakfast at the hostel, then set off for the centre of town. We walked to Les Abbesses, which is I think the best example of the Art Nouveau metro stations, and caught the train in to Les Halles, which is right in the middle of things. It was a public holiday, which was actually great because there weren't huge crowds and it was very peaceful. We walked from there to the Centre Pompidou, which is a big hideous building covered in coloured pipes, and houses the modern art gallery. Then we made our way through back streets into Le Marais and to the Place des Vosges, where Victor Hugo used to live - a big square of mansions built in, um, I think the 17th century or maybe the 18th, enclosing a central garden square. After that we visited Notre Dame, where my camera ran out of batteries, which made me mad because I had spare batteries I had bought for just such an eventuality, but had left them at the hostel.
Anyway, we continued walking all the way down the river to the Louvre, and spent a good amount of the afternoon walking around its endless - I mean that, it's stupidly huge - galleries. We saw all the big ones, of course; the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, etc. But Margot is also scarily knowledgable about everything else, and was able to give me a running commentary, which I listened to carefully and promptly forgot. I was able to provide us with yet another camera incident, as I somehow lost Margot's camera. Luckily, the very nice gallery attendant had spotted it and it was returned no fuss. After all of this excitement, we collapsed exhausted in the closest end of the Tuilerie gardens, then I somehow persuaded Margot to walk to the Eiffel Tower. That almost killed us, and we jumped on the nearest metro and went back to the hostel, went out for a meal in which the conversation consisted mostly of blank tired stares (very nice little restaurant though, right up in the famous square next to the Sacre Coeur), and went to bed.
OK, still with me? Tuesday. Still exhausted from the previous day, we set off for Versailles. i had been a couple of times before, but it's something that Margot's always wanted to do, and I could go hundreds of times. The palace is just spectacular. Built mostly by Louis XIV, it is a monument to the glory of the french monarchy (deceased). Some of it would seem overwhelmingly tasteless if you tried to decorate in a similar way today - lots and lots and lots of gilded everything - but here it works. It took us several hours to get through the palace, even without fully utilising the audio guide, after which we sat on the back steps of the palace and had our lunch, which mostly consisted of mini baguettes, melted butter, and jam; stolen from our free breakfast. I know, classy. Afer lunch we took the outrageously expensive "train" to the Trianons - Grand and Petit - and wandered around thinking what nice little summer houses they would make. And they wouldnàt be complete without Marie-Antoinette's amazingly Disneylandesque "peasant village". All of this took us eight hours or so, and we returned totally, totally exhausted.
Wednesday. In the morning we climbed up to the dome in the Sacre Coeur - the highest point in Paris, and an amazing view. I couldn't find where I wrote my name there last time - I think they may clean it every so often then let it fill up again. Keeping the theme of steps (sigh), we headed to the Arc de Triomphe, and paid a ridiculous amount of money for the privilege of going to the top. I probably wouldn't have bothered, but you have to, don't you, and it's the only thing I hadn't done before. Following the Champs-Elysées downhill, our next stop was the Musée d'Orsay, which made Margot's head explode. After an overload of art, we retreated, and went home. Only to go out again, to meet up with my friend Scott from high school and his partner, who have been living in Paris for nearly a year. We drank a little bit more wine than our worn-out bodies could really handle, but it was a great evening. I always regretted not keeping in contact with Scott, but it was great to find he hadn't changed - other than being ravaged by time, of course, but who among us hasn't been?
Almost there now, keep going. Thursday was a quitish day; a peaceful river cruise on the Bateaux-Mouches, followed by another stroll up to the Eiffel Tower, then back to the hostel to pick up our bags and go to the train station. The train to Bologna was pretty horrible, I have to say. Amazingly uncomfortable "beds", carriages in not the best state of repair, and fellow passengers we had to basically kick out of our compartment so we could set up the beds, and who stood talking directly outside for another couple of hours. But, we made it, and found our hostel. I say hostel, but it is basically a gorgeous little boutique hotel. We dropped our bags there and were invited to the full buffet breakfast (oh my god) for 5 euros, which I presume is charged to our room even though we haven't checked in yet. Now, I am fully prepared for them to tell me it costs 100 euros each or something, because we paid 42 euros altogether, which really seems suspicious for such a nice, three star hotel. We shall see. In the meantime we've wandered to the centre of Bologna, found the tourist information centre (not as easy as it sounds), and bought a guidebook to replace the one that I for some reason did not bring with me. Bologna is a medieval town, with ancient palaces and churches everywhere, as well as its own leaning tower (which is nine hundred years old, no less). But honestly, we're just here for a day off.
Right, that's me done. Not up to the standard I'd like, but there was too much to get through. If we keep up this pace I'm going to have to do an entry every day. I'll try and get a couple of photos up at some point, too.
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