Away Awhile Journal Entry 42

Journal Entry 42

December 13th, 2004

"I-Go-Slavia"

I spent the past few weeks in the fragments of the former Yugoslavia. Serbia and Montenegro (the two are combined to form a single country now) are all that's left. Macedonia, Croatia, Slovenia, and Bosnia-Hercegovina are the other four pieces that are now independent. And Kosovo (part of Serbia before) exists as a UN protectorate.

I already wrote about Macedonia and Kosovo, so it's on to Montenegro (here, known as Crno Gora). I entered from Albania and stopped off in Cetinje. It's the old capital of the kingdom of Montenegro from the days when the country was a Russian protectorate. It's in a beautiful area, up in some low mountains with a Dr. Seuss-like landscape of bumpy gray rocks and twisted trees amid a veil of mist. The little village is littered with a dozen old European embassies from back in the day and the town's monastery houses the hand of St. John the Baptist (minus two fingers: one's in Sienna, Italy, the other in Istanbul, Turkey).

Next, to the Montenegrin coast, on the Adriatic Sea. Kotor is a walled village in a beautiful fjord-like bay. It's filled with a maze of stone streets and churches, and a ruined fortress (nowadays, defended only be a handful of goats) towers high above the town on a steep hill. Further up the coast, and across the border into Croatia, is Dubrovnik, my next stop. The drive between the two towns was amazing: the coast is full of churches and islets and villages that cling to the sides of the hills.

Dubrovnik is similar to Kotor, though larger, more touristy, and minus the hilltop castle. And it's situated directly on the deep-blue water's edge. I met two others travellers here, and we split a posh apartment 400 steps up from the old walled town. We had the best view imaginable of this amazing little city. For the most part, the weather was great: cold but sunny. Each day I took walks around the city and enjoyed beautiful sunsets. The highlight of the town is the city ramparts, which are about 2km in circumference. You can walk around and above the entire city along this wall, peering down into the narrow alleys, and gazing across church steeples into the sea. Nice.

Then I headed inland once more, into rugged Bosnia-Hercegovina. I split my time between Mostar (the old capital of Hercegovina) and Sarajevo (the old capital of Bosnia, and capital of the whole works now). Aside from some places I saw in East Timor, I've probably never seen more in-your-face evidence of recent war. This town is pretty much split into a Muslim half and a Croat half. The line that divides is full of building skeletons (not yet razed or rebuilt) and intact buildings riddled with bullet holes. Life goes on. The old town is full of cobblestone streets. The city's symbol is a steeply-arched bridge that has been recently rebuilt since the Croats destroyed it in 1993.

I enjoyed all these places thus far, but truly one of the gems of my trip was next: Sarajevo. I awoke early on Thanksgiving morning to catch the train. The three hour journey was beautiful: the train wound past valleys and villages and peaks and haystacks and...snow! I was excited to see this stuff again. In Sarajevo, I stayed at a hostel, where I met an American and a Finn to share Thanksgiving with. In addition to a huge meal, we went to a concert 'Hari Mata Hari', a Bosnian supergroup that sings really cheesy pop music. They played to 8000 raging fans in the 1984 Olympic stadium.

Sarajevo was a relaxing five days for me. The Turkish quarter of town is amazing. The main square is surrounded by mosques, a fountain, pigeons, and narrow alleys. Nearby are the river and churches and a backdrop of snow-covered hills rising in every direction. There are many reminders of the war: filled-in holes in sidewalks, pock-marked buildings, cemetaries, and a few ruins. Outside the city, in a shelled home along a muddy frozen road, you can tour a piece of the secret tunnel that connected the city with the rest of Bosnia during the siege of 1993-95.

Belgrade was next on the agenda. Quite a change, as the US and NATO were bombing the hell out of the city during my first trip to Europe in 1999. The city seems to be recovering quite well. It's not the most descript city on earth, but is a nice stopover. It has a nice pedestrian boulevard (for Minnesotans, like Nicollet Mall, but a bit less intimate and claustrophobic) that leads to a citadel perched above the Danube River. The place has a vibrant atmosphere, in a strange way. Saw Tito's grave (he's the guy who held Yugoslavia together for 40 years...it's all gone to hell only after he died). Saw some NATO-bombed buildings. It won't sound complementary, but the best way I can describe Belgrade is gray. It's not the weather, or the buildings, or the streets and parks. Or the people. But somehow the whole package comes together...gray.

And last but not least...Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia. Five days of relaxation, museums (do all museums have creaky wooden floors?), walks along the river, visits to the colourful produce and Christmas markets. In additions, the architecture here is wonderful, there's a hilltop castle, and the Julian Alps loom to the north of the city.

Slovenia, recently admitted to the European Union, is definitely a step up. It's not quite Eastern Europe, not quite Western Europe. A pleasant in-between. Christmas draws near; being three years since I've seen this holiday season in a country that celebrates it, it was nice to again see Christmas trees and lights and decorations. But no snow.

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The food in the Balkan states consists of variations on a similar theme. In Montenegro, I had kajmak (a yogurt-like fresh cheese) and ripe mandarins. In Croatia, strukle (cottage cheese rolls), travarica (homemade brandy spiced with mint and rosemary) and the locally-grown dark figs. Bosnia-Hercegovina: pura (baked corn cake with sour cream), hecegovacki buredjici (meat wrapped in a thin bread, then smothered in yogurt), rolovano pource (carrot, cheese, and spinach roll), sarajevski cevapi (a big greasy pita stuffed with kebabs and raw onion, served with yogurt), Turkish coffee (very strong, made without removing the very-fine grounds), tufahije (sweetened and cored apple filled with chopped walnuts and topped with crème), perec (salty cheese pretzels), and the best pomegranates I've ever tasted. And Slovenia: gibanica (pastry filled with layers of poppy, apple, walnut, and cheese) and good brown bread (must be getting closer to Germany).

The most common food in the region, however, is burek (flaky fried bread filled with things). Though it's everywhere in the region, nowhere is it more prevalent than in Bosnia. Plain, it's stuffed with meat. But it comes in other forms: sirnica (cheese), zeljanica (spinach), krompiraca (potato), and in Serbia, they have a variation filled with mushrooms, called pecurce.

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Though I hadn't planned to visit this region of the world, I'm glad I did. It's a rapidly changing area with a fascinating history. It may've been obvious from my writing, but Bosnia-Hercegovina was my favorite, having the richest blend of culture, food, and scenery. And the autumn-winter weather has been great. I've had to pick up a few sweaters, but I've enjoyed the chilly yet refreshing weather (aside from the scattered days of frigid and steady rain).

Recently I traveled alone quite a bit, but caught up on socializing in Sarajevo. I filled my time with late nights, late mornings, long walks by day, long walks by night, and hanging out. It's great to have the freedom to pick and choose where, when, and with whom you spend your time.

Yes, this is the land that gave us the Yugo. Q: What's the quickest way to double the value of your Yugo? A: Fill the tank.

I must be looking a bit gruff these days. On the same recent morning, I was approached by a policeman asking for ID (first random stop like this of my entire trip!), and an hour later I was asked if I had drugs to sell.

My Balkan tour ended in Ljubljana. The rest of Turkey (my visa is valid until 19JAN05) and the lands beyond are calling. So I soon head east again. Things should warm up.

'It was, as I say, a half-formed thought-man has many such, which are never completed. I felt that it was of joy-of hope; but I felt also that it had perished in its formation. In vain I struggled to perfect-to regain it.' (Edgar Allan Poe)

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