Urban Vacation

A Balkans Road Trip Part 3: Slovenia – The Dance of Death, Castles, & Ljubljana

| 2suitcasesfor2years

With a sharp dog-leg turn to the left we followed the E751 across the bridge above the Dragonja River and crossed into Slovenia from Croatia, leaving the cerulean blues of the Adriatic behind us as we headed into the mountainous “Green Heart of Europe.” Across from each other at an intersection, competing ladies had cartons of fresh picked Spring strawberries piled high on roadside tables.

Ljubljana, Slovenia is only 202 km (126 mi) from the harbor town of Pula, Croatia, a fast 2.5-hour trip, on excellent roads, if you drive straight through. But we had chosen several spots to explore along the way, and we’d be happy if we arrived in Ljubljana before sunset.

With a population of just over two million people, Slovenia’s countryside is wonderfully underdeveloped, and rich with pristine landscapes of forests and farmlands. A fresco of dancing skeletons in Cerkev sv. Trojice, the Church of the Holy Trinity, in the rural village of Hrastovlje was our first destination. Along the way a cluster of homes in the hamlet of Podpeč, seemed to cling for dear life on a steep slope below a karst cliff face, on top of which stood Obrambni Stolp Podpeč, a tall 11th century Venetian watch tower, which is said to have outstanding views across Slovenian Istria region all the way to the Bay of Koper and the Gulf of Trieste.

A few minutes later, after driving between buildings along a very narrow farm lane, where we were sure we would have lost the side mirrors on the car if we hadn’t pulled them in, we were standing in front of the locked iron gate of Cerkev sv. Trojice. A placard picturing the fresco we hoped to see listed a telephone number to call. We dialed, no answer. It was a beautiful Spring Saturday; surely, we thought, the site must be open. Fortunately, there was a small taverna, the Gostilna Švab, nearby that was in the process of opening for lunch. Inquiring about the church, the proprietress was very helpful in calling the gentleman, who she assured us would be there shortly. Pouring two coffees she shared, “he’ll be there by the time you finish these.” The coffee was very good, alleviating the chill of the morning as we sat outside on the tavern’s terrace, and it perfectly satisfied our “drive a little, then café, ritual.

By the time we entered the courtyard of the fortress church several other visitors had arrived, and we spent a few minutes admiring the small church and its belltower. The ancient church, built on a rise above rolling fields, is believed to have been built between the 12th and 14th centuries, with the ramparts and corner towers added later in the 16th century to repel Turkish attacks along this frontier region as the Ottoman Empire fought to expand its control across the Balkan region farther into the territory of the Habsburg Empire, but didn’t succeed. It’s not remembered when the clock was added to the belltower.

Inside the small chapel every wall and ceiling is spectacularly covered with biblical teachings. At some time over the centuries the frescoes were covered with layers of plaster and remained hidden until 1949 when the Slovenian painter and art teacher Jože Pohlen, who was born in Hrastovlje, noticed that areas of flaking plaster suggested earlier paintings underneath and thought a hidden gem might be waiting for discovery. Surprisingly, although historians don’t have an accurate history of the church, they do know thanks to the restoration of the frescoes by Pohlen, and the discovery of a signature that they were painted by Janez van Kastav, John of Kastav, from Croatia, in 1490.

All the religious illustrations were intriguing, but the most unique was the Dance of Death fresco, which depicts 11 skeletons leading a parade of everyday souls that includes a prince, a priest and a pauper to the grave. A stark reminder that, regardless of our stations in life, the same fate awaits us, though a Royal does lead the group to their final destination. Leaving the courtyard, we noticed a sign for local Isteria wines for sale on a door to one of the watchtowers. “Red or White?” “One of each, please,” and with that he unlocked the ancient wood door that was almost falling off its hinges and revealed his impromptu wine cellar.

A farmer’s enclosure across from the church had rusted relics from WWI and WW2 nailed to the top of the fenceposts. A silent and ironic testimony to the centuries of conflict that have fallen upon this bucolic area. We had hoped to stop at Lipica Stud Farm, an almost 500 hundred year old horse breeding facility that was started in 1581 with 24 broodmares and six stud horses brought from Spain originally to create a herd of the magnificent white horses for the royals of the Hapsburg Empire. Today the breeding farm remains dedicated to raising Lipizzaner horses for equestrians around the world.

Unfortunately, the equestrian center was closed the day we were in the area, and we continued on to Predjama Castle. The 13th century fortified chateau was dramatically built halfway into a large cave on a towering cliff face, by the rebellious knight Erazem, whom legend believes was Slovenia’s Robin Hood; he pillaged wealthy towns and protected the local peasants. Betrayed by a castle servant who signaled the enemy with a candle, Erazem met an unceremonious death when a cannon ball fired by troops of the Holy Roman Empire caught him with his pants down as he was using the castle privy.

An audio tour of the castle took us through secret tunnels, a dungeon, and several restored living areas, where only the lord of the castle enjoyed fireplaces, while his staff froze in their quarters. We felt the best element of the castle was its picturesque setting, which can be viewed for free, and thought that unless you have never toured a castle before, the entrance fee wasn’t worth the experience they offered. We enjoyed a very nice lunch at Gostilna Požar, which has a patio with views of the castle.

Ljubljana’s extensive old town along the Ljubljanica River is a beautiful pedestrian only area that spans both sides of the river as it flows through the capital city of Slovenia. Our taxi, on arrival and final departure, from the Parking Tivoli II lot to the French Revolution Square was included in our 5 night stay at the Barbo Palace Apartments. The short ride followed a convoluted route due to pedestrian-only and one-way streets. But it was a nice  introduction to the architectural diversity of Ljubljanica, and we took note of which buildings we wanted to return to later in the week to photograph.

First, we passed the National Assembly Building of Slovenia, a modernist building with a contrasting entranceway surrounded by an immense bronze sculpture created by the work of the Ljubljanica artists Zdenko Kalin and Karel Putrih in the 1950s. The artwork is called the Working People and reflects the collective philosophy of communism and “symbolizes the progress of civilization.”

Adjacent to Park Zvezda was the beautiful, architecturally distinct hull-shaped roof and six column fascia of Ursuline Church of the Holy Trinity, a 1700s Baroque style church with an attached monastery. Across the street was the striking Pillar of the Holy Trinity.

On Mirje Street we passed the remains of the defensive wall and gates of one of Ljubljanica’s earliest settlements called Emona, a Roman colony founded in 14 AD on a pre-existing Illyrian village. Located on an important trading route that linked the Adriatic to the Danube River and the northern Balkans, the town with an estimated population of 6,000 flourished until the 5th century when Visigoths and later Huns invaded the area. Afterward the town slowly declined as folks moved away to other areas for their safety.

The short walk to the Barbo down tree-covered lanes passed the conservatory rooms of University of Ljubljana’s Academy of Music, where melodies drifted on the air, and through the recital rooms windows the heads of students intent on playing their instruments could be seen as they swayed with their music.

Around the corner from the Barbo Palace, the 18th-century residence of Count Jost Vajkard von Barbo, was a splendid view of Ljubljana Castle, across the river with its flags flickering in the wind. Our one-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor was spacious, with a small kitchen and sitting area. Though rather simple in its décor, it overlooked the interior courtyard and the ancient red tile roofs of the buildings across the way, and it was in a convenient location, the staff was quite helpful, and we enjoyed our stay.

At dusk that evening we strolled along the riverbank promenade to Tromostovje, Ljubljana’s famous Triple Bridge, the center of this historic town, which was designed by Slovenian’s famous architect Jože Plečnik (1872 – 1957). His vision transformed Ljubljana from a provincial town of the Austrian Empire into a modern European city and a regional capital within The Kingdom of Yugoslavia in the period between the two World Wars. Under his direction, while respecting the integrity of landmark buildings, the city center was reinterpreted with new bridges, promenades, streets, squares, and parks. New public buildings which uniquely combined classical and modern designs, which blended the city’s ancient Roman heritage with Slovenia’s traditional character, were added to the cityscape.

We walked variations of this route multiple times to explore this fascinating, very livable city where folks biked to work, enjoying the vibe of the university students, and the numerous restaurants and cafes in old town.  

Sunlight brightening our bedroom window revealed a glorious day perfect for hiking to the top of Grajski Grič, Castle Hill. Detoured by a small antiques street fair, we browsed awhile before crossing the river to find the Reber, a narrow-cobbled path, which rises gradually until it transitions to a steep set of allegedly 115 stairs (I can’t believe they counted accurately!), before winding through the wooded hillside and reaching the castle. Along the pathway there was a spot with a nice view over the old town. The paved walkway was another initiative of Plečnik’s and replaced a dirt path that soldiers from the castle once used as a shortcut into town. Interestingly, the location is prominently featured in Vesna, a classic 1953 Slovenian romantic comedy.

Reaching the castle, we walked around its perimeter, where we watched the funicular from the central market ascend the hillside, and found some interesting historical sculptures before heading to the entrance.

The ticket booth to Ljubljana Castleis situated well in front of the castle, and you’ll need to purchase a pass if you want to visit the history museum and climb to the top of its tower. However, you can enter the courtyard of the castle for free to take advantage of a café there, and climb to the top of the ramparts which have a spectacular view of Ljubljana and the Kamnik-Savinja Alps beyond the city.

We used the funicular to descend to Ljubljana’s central market square, where in April only a few vegetable and clothing vendors were set up early in the shoulder season. Though we did find a vending machine that dispenses fresh milk into a bottle you provide or buy at the machine. Adjacent to the central market are two block long colonnaded arcades, that house several restaurants and a variety of shops. Year-round on Friday evenings the area transforms into Odprta Kuhna, the Open Kitchen Market, a popular festive hub for food connoisseurs to try traditional Slovenian dishes and international cuisines, from the numerous food stalls along the street. Unfortunately, we were not in Ljubljana on a Friday, to experience this for ourselves. But we did find some tasty burek at Okrepčevalnica Bureka short distance away on Poljanska Cesta.

We did enjoy some excellent traditional dinners in Ljubljana, the most memorable being at Ljubljančanka near Prešernov Circle, which is located the base of the Triple Bridge. The plaza is the terminus for multiple streets and is surrounded by beautiful buildings that feature a variety of interesting architectural styles.

Architectural diversity is visible on most of the lanes running through Old Town Ljubljana, and contributes significantly to the city’s livability.

One morning we walked across town to AKC Metelkova Mesto, a center of alternative culture that started in 1993 from a squat in a former military barracks. The one block area is covered in continuously evolving street art and is ground zero for nightlife in Ljubljana, with several music clubs and eateries.

Returning to the old town we crossed the Dragon Bridge, an early 1900s structure decorated with Art Nouveau dragon statues. It was not the first time we encountered dragon symbols in Slovenia. Interestingly, Ljubljana’s love of dragon imagery stems from the city’s creation story and the Greek legend of Jason and the Argonauts, in which Jason slayed a tremendous dragon terrorizing the area, after which some of the Argonauts settled along the river. Today the dragon is a prominent symbol on Ljubljana’scoat of arms, representing power, courage, and wisdom.

We found the two churches in old town interesting. Visiting first Franciscan Church of the Annunciation on Prešernov Circle, one of Ljubljana’s most recognizable landmarks, which is painted pink, a color chosen to symbolize joy and hope.

This Baroque church built in the mid-1600s replaced an earlier 13th-century Gothic church. The richly decorated interior is stunningly adorned with gilded altars, delicate stucco work, frescoes, a magnificent organ, and ornate side altars.

Across the river near the central market was the larger Saint Nicholas’ Cathedral. It is the third in a succession of churches on the site which dates from 1262 when a Romanesque style church was built. A 1361 fire severely damaged the structure and saw it refurbished in the Gothic style. But the church was altered again when the Diocese of Ljubljana was established in 1461 and the church became a cathedral. Notoriously, a suspected case of arson damaged the cathedral in 1469. Two hundred fifty years later construction of the Baroque church that exists today was started. One of the church’s most impressive features were the bronze doors created by Mirsad Begić in 1996 to celebrate Pope John Paul II’s visit to the cathedral to mark the 1250th anniversary of Christianity in Slovenia.

While Ljubljana is very easy to walk around in, the distances between points can be quite far. Helpfully, the city provides a free, on-demand electric shuttle service called Kavalir (Gentle Helper) that tourists can use in the pedestrian zone, and which is easy to arrange through your hotel. The drivers are not tour guides but will share information about the city as they whisk you quietly to your destination.

Ljubljana’s size was just right for us, its ambience charming and as a university town it was a nice mix of young and older. We found the city to be one of the nicest European capitals we have visited, and think it would be the perfect spot for an extended stay.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

P.S. The Ljubljana Card lets you discover more than 30 Ljubljana sights

Croatia Road Trip Part 2: The Istria Peninsula – Plitvička Jezera, Pula, and Rovinj or Waterfalls, Roman Ruins & a Saint

| 2suitcasesfor2years

We experienced an infinite palette of blues spread across the sea, sky and waterfalls of Croatia, as if they were an artist’s inspiration, but in fact were mother earth’s creation. The emerald green, turquoise and azure arteries of the rivers were particularly enthralling; they shimmered with the changing light, almost glowing, as they coursed through their surrounding landscapes. The intense colors are the result of limestone and other mineral deposits that line the waterways, and the angle of sunlight on the water. This majestic display of nature’s wonder is on display at Plitvička Jezera National Park, just two hours from Zadar. 

Created in 1949, Plitvička Jezera was Croatia’s first national park and protects a massive 296.85 km2 (114.61 sq mi) area, situated on a plateau in the mountainous Dinaric Alps of central Croatia, that separate the inland region of the country from the Adriatic coast.

The park has 16 terraced lakes with numerous waterfalls of various heights which folks can view via a series of meandering boardwalks built across the shallow pools below each cascade. The park service has organized these walkways into eight different touring routes/programs.

We visited the park on the Wednesday before Easter, a school vacation week, and the park was busy, but not overwhelmed with visitors. Those in the know arrived early, as convenient parking vanished quickly, and it was a very long walk to the ticket booth.

We chose route E, a three hour, 5100m (3mi) circular walk through the Upper Lakes section past Veliki prštavac, and Mali Prštavac falls to Lake Prošćansko, that included a short boat ride across Kozjak Lake at the beginning and end of the trek.

The falls were enthralling, flowing like delicate veils across the rock face of the hills. The boardwalks above the crystal-clear pools were narrow, and for the most part without railings except for sections of stairs that ascended a hillside. But the walk was very easy, and we encountered folks of all different ages, and parents carrying young children.

In mid-April the foliage on the trees in the park was just beginning to leaf out, making it the perfect season to view the falls without them being hidden by trees. Trying to take photographs of the falls, midday, without people in them was nearly impossible, and you need to be at the park before most folks arrive to accomplish that.

Our destination for the end of the day was the Hotel Katarina in Selce, a modest-sized resort village, on the Adriatic. The two-hour drive first took us through mountains covered in pine forests along Rt D52, past small villages where all the homes still had cords of wood for their fireplaces and wood stoves stacked high. Descending the mountains, the landscape slowly greened and transitioned to a rolling pastureland dotted with cows and sheep. Freshly turned gardens along the way were already planted with spring onions. Some of the small farms had roadside stands offering honey and homemade cheese for sale. It was a very pretty drive, but the roads were narrow and did not have any shoulder area to pullover to safely take photographs. Intersecting D23, we continued our descent to the coast through thinning forests then Garrigue, an evergreen shrubland well suited for the region’s hot dry summers.

We reached the coast at Senj, the oldest town on the North Adriatic coast, with a history that goes back 3,000 years. The town is located on a crescent shaped bay under the watchful eye of the Nehaj Fortress, a 16th-century bastion that helped to keep the Croatian town independent during the centuries of Ottoman and Venetian aggression in the Adriatic Region. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to visit the castle, which also hosts an annual three day Renaissance festival called the Days of Uskoks every July. But we did enjoy a short walk along its waterfront before continuing on.

Large modern hotels like the Hotel Katarina, which cater to tour groups, are not our first choice when we travel, but unfortunately during the shoulder seasons along the Adriatic coast many of the hotels that would normally be open during the summer are closed, and options are limited. But the hotel’s location for a one-night stay, in the town of Selce, worked well with our driving plans, as we headed to historic town of Pula, on the Istrian Peninsula.

The hotel was directly across from a promenade, alive with a chorus of wonderful song birds, which we followed the next morning.  At the town’s port the walkway widened into a small plaza planted with tulips and centered with a large Easter Egg, called a pisanice.  

These fiberglass eggs are painted by local artists with themes that reflect the Croatian Christian traditions, and celebrations of Spring. There were numerous restaurants along the quay, but only a few of the smaller cafés were open this time of year. Even though the morning was overcast, the town’s small harbor was a colorful scene of boats and waterfront buildings.

Our drive north from Selce mostly hugged the coast and was reminiscent of Italy’s Cilento Coast along the Mediterranean in the Campagna region. We found the towns and glimpses of the sea along the Croatian coast fascinating and started to think about future return trips to the area. 

We would enjoy time  to explore in depth not just the small coastal villages like Bakar, where just beyond the village some of the bus stops along the road are covered with murals that reflected the areas maritime heritage, and Mošćenička Draga, beautifully set on a small cove, but also some of the less mentioned larger coastal cities like Jadrolinija and Opatija, which were fashionable Habsburg-era resorts in the 19th century and still retain their fine architecture. We regretted that we only had time to drive through these areas.

The Istrian Peninsula is known for the high quality of its olive oils, wine and regional cuisine which spans from light seafood entrees to hearty meat dishes and stews, the first of which we tried at Tri Murve in Plomin. I wish we could say that this was a well-researched choice, but it was a spontaneous stop, to satisfy a mutinous co-pilot, but we were pleasantly rewarded with a very wonderful lunch. On this chilly day, the temptation to linger here was overwhelming.

The top of Pula’s ancient Roman colosseum surged above the trees as we drove into the center of the port city. Rome’s presence in the city dates back over 2,000 years, but legend believes the city’s founding was a thousand years earlier and linked to the mythological Greek hero Jason and the Argonauts who sailed into the northern Adriatic Sea to escape the pursuit of the Colchians. The Colchians, exhausted after years of pursuing the Argonauts, feared returning home without the Golden Fleece, and founded Polai, the City of Refuge.

In the mid-1500s when Pula was part of the Venetian Empire plans were proposed to dismantle the arena and rebuild it in Venice. But they were rejected after the passionate arguments of Venetian senator Gabriele Emo, who is remembered with a plaque in the stadium. Though his efforts did not stop the removal of stones to build other structures in Pula which continued well into the 18th century. The arena, a masterpiece of Roman engineering, was originally built to seat 23,000 spectators, and is used to host a variety of events that range from film festivals to concerts and soccer matches, though its seating capacity has been reduced to a safe 7,000.

We thought we were in luck when we found a spot in an untended parking lot atop the hill near the Citadel of Pula, and the Monastery of St. Francis, only two blocks from our lodging at Luxury Flats. However, as we were lifting our luggage from the trunk a parking attendant appeared and informed us the lot was reserved for local residents with permits and we would be ticketed, but he was very gracious and gave us 15 minutes to get our bags to the apartment before we needed to move the car to a municipal paid parking lot across from the Roman colosseum, that he suggested. Finding parking for a rental car is always a task in small European cities. This one was reasonably priced, charging hourly during the day, but free after 18:00 until 8:00 the next morning. 

The small studio apartment we rented was modern and had a shared balcony which overlooked an orchard with a garden area that was once tended to by the nuns of the Monastery of St. Francis, next door. The monastery was built by the Franciscan Order in the 1300s and served the religious needs of the community until the country’s communist era. When the complex was then used as a military barracks, then kindergarten, before being returned to the Franciscans in 1992.

While our flat was adequate for our 3-night stay, we wouldn’t describe it as luxurious, but its location on a steep lane in the center of the historic district was excellent, being only a short walk away from everything in Pula. Wanting to take advantage of the sunny afternoon that appeared as we entered the city, we were soon out and about, walking past colorful homes and flowering wisteria along the road to the Citadel of Pula or Kaštel, as it is locally known.

The star shaped bastion was built by the Venetian Empire in the 1500s over the ruins of an earlier Roman fortress and partially used some of the stones from the old colosseum in its construction. It has a commanding view of the harbor and the town surrounding it, and was actively used as military installation by the Austrians during WWI, who built an extensive network of tunnels under the castle known as the Zerostrasse. The tunnels were later expanded upon by the Italians during WWII, and later still, by Yugoslavia’s communist regime, to shelter 50,000 people. Unfortunately, the tunnels were closed when we visited Pula. Near the Zerostrasse’s entrance, at the bottom of the hill behind the Kaštel, there are also the ruins of a small Roman era amphitheater and museum with historical artifacts from the period. The Gate of Hercules and remnants of Pula’s ancient defensive wall are nearby.

Earlier at the Kaštel, we had noticed large idle shipping cranes in the harbor, remnants of Pula’s once important shipping industry. Now from a window in our apartment, as the night sky darkened, we could see the “Lighting Giants” as they are called, lit with colorful lights.

The next morning, in search of breakfast, we headed to Gradska tržnica, Pula’s traditional daily market where the seafood and meat vendors are indoors and the produce and flower sellers are setup outdoors in a shaded park. All the produce in the market looked extraordinary, and we were tempted to purchase some foodstuffs to cook later, but our apartment only had a coffee maker. Excellent pastries and coffee were found at Mlinar, an Adriatic region bakery chain, which we ended up visiting frequently during our road trip through the Balkans.

Our route took us through the Arch of the Sergii (29 BC), a Roman triumphal arch, and main gate through Pula’s defensive wall, which once stood around the city.  The ramparts were dismantled in the early 19th century, when Pula was an important naval base for the Austrian Empire, and the prosperous city needed room for expansion.    

Back-tracking through the arch we walked along the pedestrian only Sergijevaca Street, Pula’s main shopping lane, to the old Roman Forum.  After 2000 plus years, the plaza is still surrounded with ancient buildings that include the 2BC Temple of Augustus, and a 13th century Communal Palace, now used as Pula’s City Hall, and remains the center of activity in this historic town. Cafés with outdoor tables lined the perimeter of the square, though the popularity of each seemed to change during the day as people sought tables in the sun to help relieve the chill of an April day. Across from a busker, folks queued up to lend an artistic hand to the painting of two large fiberglass pisanice, Easter Eggs, as part of a fund-raising event.

Farther along the lane, which is now called Kandlerova, curved with the base of the hill below the Kaštel, and opened into a smaller plaza in front of the Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Pula’s main church. It was constructed in the 4th century over the foundation of an earlier Roman temple dedicated to the mythological god Jupiter. In the early 1700s, masons reused stones taken from the colosseum to construct the free-standing belltower in front of the church.

Next to the church was Park Jurja Dobrile, a quaint patch of greenery across from the promenade that stretches along the harbor.

It was very easy to enjoy Pula’s sites in a day and a half, so the next morning we set out for a day trip to Rovinj, less than an hour away. Olive groves and farmland graced our route through the verdant Istrian countryside.

In the fields just beyond Vodnjan we noticed small round stone structures with conical roofs called Kažun. They were very similar to the Trulli we saw several years ago in the Puglia region of southern Italy. Though they share the dry-stone construction technique used to build the Trulli, the Kažun in the Istrian region are much smaller, and were mainly used to store crops, keep animals, and provide temporary shelter for farmers.

Like Pula, parking in Rovinj was limited and the large municipal lot, on the quay nearest to the old town, filled up quickly, even during the shoulder season. Fortunately, we found a parking lot on Vijenac braće Lorenzetto, a little farther away.  From there it was a steep uphill walk until we reached Crkva sv. Franje, the Church of St. Francis, and its Franciscan Monastery which date from the early 1700s.

The rattling of suitcases pulled across ancient cobblestones by vacationers heading to their hotels accompanied us downhill. Surely an annoying sound, and we wondered if it was any better or worse than the hoofs of donkeys or horses, and wagon wheels clattering across the stones centuries ago.

This lane from the church passed several restaurants, but the wonderful aroma originating from Fish House Rovinj encouraged us to stop for lunch. It’s a tiny no frills seafood bar with limited seating on bar stools inside and along the wall outside. All the fish is locally sourced and purchased fresh every morning at the docks. We tried fried calamari, grilled shrimps and fish tacos. Every dish was delicious. Their staff were very nice, and the menu was extremely budget friendly considering Rovinj is a top tourist destination. The place should definitely be considered a destination spot when visiting Rovinj.

The attraction of Rovinj is its beautiful location on a small headland, that juts out into the northern Adriatic Sea, every square foot of which is covered with picturesque buildings which cascade down to the water’s very edge. The iconic picture of this 16th century merchant and fishing town is taken from the sea and captures the town, centered with the belltower of St. Euphemia’s Church at its apex, as if it was an island floating effortlessly on a horizon that seamlessly merges the sea and sky. The town was in fact an island until it the channel separating it from the mainland was filled in 1763, when the town was part of the Austrian Empire.

We had hoped to take our own pictures of the town from the sea, but the weather we felt was too cloudy to justify the expense of the boat trip. We contented ourselves instead with wandering along the harbor front before entering the old town through Balbi’s Arch, an old  Venetian gate, to the once walled citadel, before following the twisting stone lanes up to St. Euphemia’s Church.

The old town was charming, and while many of the alleys have been gentrified with upscale shops and lodging above them, several retain a rawness, similar to the historic quarter in Naples, Italy.

The lanes to the top of the hill twisted and rose before ending at a large plaza in front of the church. This church was constructed in the mid-1700s, to accommodate the growing city, over the foundation of a small church dedicated to St. George which was built in the mid-300s when the region adopted Christianity.

But part of the reason for the new church was to honor the miracle of St. Euphemia, a 4th century martyr, executed by the Eastern Roman Empire in Constantinople, before the empire adopted Christianity. The legend of St. Euphemia’s sarcophagus arrival to Rovinji  begins during the 700s Iconoclast heresy, when Emperor Constantine V, ordered her relics thrown into the sea. One hundred years later “fishers early one morning discovered a marble sarcophagus which had floated ashore like a stone ship. The townsfolk enlisted their strongest men, horses and oxen attempted  to pull the tomb off the beach, but to no avail.  

Miraculously, the saint presented herself to the crowd and singled out a small boy and said, “I am Euphemia of Chalcedon and I have engaged Jesus by blood. You will pull the stone ark with your body to the church at the top of the hill.” Awed, the crowd parted and watched the child pull the amazing weight of the tomb uphill. There priests slid off the tomb’s top and revealed the motionless body of a beautiful 14 year old girl. Next to her was a scroll of parchment paper with these words written on it: Hoc est corpus Euphemiae Sancte. “This is the body of Saint Euphemia.” Saint Euphemia is now the patron saint of Rovinj and her feast day is celebrated every September 16th, the day her sarcophagus floated ashore.

We had great experiences in Pula and Rovinj, and enjoyed learning about their fascinating history and legends.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Prague – What’s all the fuss about? Confessions, Castles and Černý

| 2suitcasesfor2years

That was the question put forth on a Reddit travel thread. A rather jaded inquiry, we thought, that questioned the city’s continued popularity with tourists, who in their opinion have ripped the local fabric of life from the city’s historic center and Disneyfied it. We don’t share that opinion, and found it to be an intriguing destination for a four-night stay before continuing on to Croatia, but we can understand why it might be perceived that way, especially if you are visiting the city during the high season. Prague has been on our radar since the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. Unexpectedly, it took us nearly 40 years to make visiting this enchanting city a reality, but like a good wine it has aged well. And while some folks lament that it’s not as inexpensive as it used to be, it’s still one of the most budget-friendly cities in Europe.

As we descended through the clouds on the approach, Prague revealed thousands of acres of brilliantly yellow rapeseed blossoms carpeting the landscape that was slowly greening. The scene literally brightened our day after a cloudy grey connecting flight from Paris during the first week of April. It was a quick 30 minute Bolt drive from the Václav Havel Airport through Prague’s outer suburbs and parks before catching a glimpse of the Petrin Tower,a 59m (194ft) tall building constructed in 1891 for Prague’s Jubilee Exhibition, that loosely follows the design of the Eiffel Tower. A climb of two-hundred-ninety-nine steps to its to apex offers views out over Prague, and on a clear day it’s said “you can see nearly all of Bohemia.”  

A short time later the silhouette of Starý královský Palác, the old Prague Castle, and the spire of St. Vitus Cathedral, which centers the bastion, came into view. The cathedral’s completion in the early 1300s established the city’s iconic skyline which hasn’t changed much over the centuries.

A long descent towards the Vltava River provided views of some of the eighteen bridges that link the historic Malá Strana, Lesser Town, situated on the western riverbank below Prague Castle to Staré Město, the Old Town, and New Town on the eastern bank, as well as our first glimpse of the famous Charles Bridge, which has survived numerous floods and wars for nearly 700 years.    

Many of the narrow streets in the historic quarter of the city are pedestrian only, but our hotel the Luxusní hotel Černý slon, the Black Elephant Hotel, was right on the edge of the restricted vehicle zone and our Bolt driver was able to navigate it easily. We passed Staroměstské Náměstí, the Old Town Square, which was already festooned with Easter decorations and food stalls, and we arrived at the corner of a cobbled alley across from the 14th century Chrám Matky Boží před Týnem, Church of Our Lady before Týn, and its twin 80m (262ft) tall bell towers which dominate the square.

This charming hotel wonderfully retains its 13th century heritage, with a small and intimate polished wood bar, and a dining room with a Gothic vaulted ceiling, located across from the reception desk. Many of the rooms have painted wood ceilings, while the attic rooms incorporate the old wooden roof trusses into their atmospheric design. How it received its name remains an enigma.

Legend believes Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV was born in the neighboring house in 1316. An intricately designed arched doorway to a side apse of the church faced the hotel on the narrow alley that led to town square. The covered walkway across the ally once connected the church to its cloister, now the Stone Bell House, a contemporary art exhibition space.

It was a perfect spring day, and we were amazed by the amount of activity on the plaza, where folks were queueing for a spot under an arbor decorated with a beautiful floral arrangement, atop a raised platform in front of the church. It was a perfect location for a portrait.

Food stalls grilled aromatic sausages and meats while others offered dumplings and donuts. Thousands of colorful tulips bloomed, ringing the base of a monument commemorating Jana Husa, in the center of the plaza. One hundred years before Martin Luther, there was Jana Husa, a theologian at Charles University in Prague who “criticized the religious moral decay of the Catholic Church,” and advocated that Mass be conducted in the local language instead of Latin. His calls for reformation branded him as a heretic and he was burnt alive on the square in front of the church in 1415. His martyrdom led to the creation of a Pre-Protestant religious movement by his followers who called themselves Hussites. The statue honoring him was erected in 1915, 500 years after his death. During the county’s communist era, sitting on the wall surrounding the statue was a way for folks to quietly protest against the oppressive rule of communism.

St. Nicholas Church, a Hussite place of worship, stands across from the monument and has an interesting historical display about the Hussite religion.

The architectural integrity of the city has remarkably survived relatively unscathed through centuries of wars that have engulfed the region. Old Town Square is definitely the epicenter of Prague’s rich architectural history, with fabulous examples of the different architectural styles that the city has embraced, which prominently surround the plaza; the earliest examples of Romanesque style dating from the 12th century are followed by Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, Rococo, Classicist/Neoclassical, and Neogothic designs through the centuries.

Prague’s Medieval Astronomical Clock dates from its installation on the side of city hall in 1410. Famously, it is the oldest still-operating astronomical clock in the world, with moving wooden apostles that appear on the hour as a skeleton, representing death, marks time with a bell.  

Walking was a delightful way to discover the city; it is relatively flat, and each morning we set off in a different direction to explore.  First, we walked along the riverbank to the Charles Bridge, a destination we returned to several times: to experience dawn breaking over the city as folks began to head to work, and later when it was jammed like the sidewalks along 5th Ave in New York City or Istiklal Caddesi in Istanbul, at the end of the day.

That morning a swan seemed to appear magically on the bridge, as if he was the reincarnation of a night watchman, intent on questioning our purpose for crossing the bridge.

Thirty statues commemorating the city’s significant religious leaders through the centuries line the balustrade of the bridge that was completed in 1402. At the center of the span there’s a 17th century bronze statue memorializing St John of Nepomuk. He was a beloved and heroic 14th century priest who was thrown to his death from the bridge, for not revealing the confession secrets of Queen Sophia to her husband King Wenceslaus IV. Though some believe the Archbishop of Prague at the time thought it was the most expeditious way to end a political dispute with the priest and had his henchmen carry out the deed. His recovered body was enshrined at St. Vitus Cathedral with an elaborate two-ton silver tomb, where it serves as a quiet reminder of moral integrity in the face of tyranny.

Centuries of patina have been rubbed away by folks who believe touching the relief plaques at the base of the monument will bring good luck, good fortune, and a future return to Prague. 

As we continued across the bridge, we stopped at another small bronze relief that actually marks the spot where the priest’s body was discovered floating in the water. Both memorials to St John of Nepomuk on the bridge are considered pilgrimage sites.

Reaching the other side, Malá Strana, the Lesser Town, we entered the old quarter through the Malostranská Bridge Tower, and happened upon a weekly market underway on the plaza, in the shadow of the tall walls of a former Jesuit college and St. Nicholas Church. Good coffee and tasty pastries helped alleviate the morning chill as we worked our way around the stands before heading into the church.

A Gothic church had been on this site from 1283 until 1743 when 100 years of construction started to create St. Nicholas, a Baroque masterpiece that was the vision of three generations of architects in the Dientzenhofer family. The interior is voluminous, and embellished with frescoes, gilded saints and cherubs. Mozart famously played the church’s organ, which has over 4,000 pipes, up to 6m (20ft) long, when he visited Prague in 1787.

Afterwards we wandered the cobbled lanes to the Franz Kafka Museum, mostly because it was on the way to two city parks we wanted to visit. A courtyard in front of the museum featured an offbeat, quirky, whimsical mechanical sculpture created in 2004 by Czech artist David Černý. It’s called Čůrající Postavy and features two robotic men shaking their things in what could best be described as a “pissing contest.” Born in Prague, some of the artist’s larger sculptures, we would later learn, are featured in several places across the city.

Vojanovy Sady, the park nearby, was a verdant oasis, in a city of sandstone and granite. The park’s blooming magnolia trees were the perfect backdrop for a photographer taking pictures of a newly engaged couple as they strolled along pathways lined with early spring flowers. 

The Senate of the Parliament of the Czech Republic gathers at the Waldstein Palace, a 17th century structure, which along with the formal gardens underwent extensive restoration in the late 1990s. 

The gardens are quite extensive and feature a large reflecting pool, sculpture garden, roaming peacocks, and a dripstone wall from the 1600s that hides the likeness of faces in its construction. It’s a popular spot for its view of Prague Castle which towers above it on a hill.

After heading back towards the church we had a very satisfying late lunch at Dvorek pod Hradem on Nerudova Street before recrossing the bridge to the Charles Bridge Museum. It had some very interesting exhibits on how the bridge was constructed, and copies of some of the sculptures on the bridge, as well as the history of floods and conflicts which have required its repair.

We are still amazed by the ingenuity of the stone masons who built the bridge and cathedrals in the city. The museum also has a window with one of the best views of Prague Castle across the river.

From the museum we took a Prague Venice Boat Trip, which originates from under one of the bridge’s arches at the foot of the bridge, out onto the Vltava River. It was a very nice experience and gave us a different perspective from which to view the city. During the boat ride the captain steered us close to a house on the west bank and pointed to a high-water mark on the side of a building. It was the result of a devasting 500-year flood that raised the level of the Vltava River 8m (26ft) above normal. The devastation was tremendous and forced 50,000 people to evacuate their homes.

Walking back to the hotel we noticed numerous buildings with ornamentalist Art Nouveau facades featuring intricate details, natural forms and figures. The elaborate exterior decorations were popular during the late 1890s until the 1920s, when there was an effort to bring art into everyday life.

The streets between Mansson’s Bakery, a great spot for coffee and pastry, and Old Town Square are full of interesting buildings and atmospheric street scenes.

The next morning, we headed to the Municipal House, a 1905 concert hall, and the Powder Tower, an old Renaissance era gate to the city. The visual contrast between the two buildings was striking. Unfortunately, we missed visiting the Jubilee Synagogue, one of Prague’s finest examples of art nouveau design with a Moorish influence.

The architectural styles we encountered changed quickly from block to block and we were soon walking under an arcade which led to one of our best discoveries, Černá Madona, an amazing café where desserts and pastries are created as visually stunning pieces of art.

Nearby was the Basilica of St. James the Greater, that seemed inconspicuous at first, but when we rounded the corner to its entrance, we were captivated by a large stone relief sculpture above the door that depicted a fluid scene of saints, angels and cherubs ascending higher.  It drew us in and we were enthralled by the church’s lavish 18th century Baroque interior, which was so busy with murals and sculptures we were not sure where to look first.

We returned to our hotel through the quaint Týn courtyard, which originally started as a fortified merchant’s warehouse, with workshops, and lodges, like a caravanserai, in the 11th century when Prague was part of the Holy Roman Empire. It was predominantly used by German traders who were required to pay their ungelt, a customs tax there.

This growing and prosperous German trading community eventually funded the construction of Church of Our Lady before Týn in the 14thcentury. By the early 1900s the courtyard’s glory days had passed and the buildings were neglected until a 1990s renovation of the area reestablished it as a tourist destination. One of the best dinners we had in the city was just down the street from the courtyard at the vegetarian/vegan restaurant Maitrea, where we enjoyed an absolutely delightful evening.

Many folks choose to walk up Zámecké Schody, the castle stairs, which start near St. Nicholas Church in Malá Strana to visit Prague Castle. But our knees are not what they used to be, and we used a Bolt ride to drop us off above the castle at Loreta Praha, a beautiful pilgrimage site built around a replica of the Holy House of Nazareth, which is believed to be the house where the Virgin Mary lived and received the Annunciation.

It is a fascinating complex with cloisters, the 18th century Church of the Nativity of Our Lord with a marvelous Roccoco interior, and the Loreto Treasury that safekeeps the shrine’s ecclesiastical treasures; the centerpiece of its collection is the Prague Sun, an ornate 17th century monstrance with 6,222 diamonds, which was crafted in Vienna.

In 2011 a long forgotten 1600s crypt was rediscovered at Loreto. Opening it unexpectedly revealed a tomb covered in gruesome yet heavenly black and white frescoes, the artwork copies of works by Dutch artists that included Rembrandt, Govert Flinck, David Vinckboons, and Hendrick Goltzius. The artist who created them was assumed to be an unknown monk. A full-size recreation of the crypt is now on display in the Loreto museum.

It was a pleasant downhill walk from the shrine to Prague Castle, passing fascinating examples of period architecture along the way, particularly Schwarzenberský Palace, a Renaissance era building that is now a museum featuring a collection of historic Czech art and medieval weaponry.

A crowd was gathering in front of the Castle in expectation of the changing of the guard ceremony which occurs every hour at the ornamental gate in front of the palace’s first courtyard. The gate features a monumental sculpture called the Clash of the Titans-Standbeeld which towers over the zebra striped guardhouses.

The castle is a sprawling array of majestically scaled buildings, the most impressive of which was St. Vitus Cathedral, with its beautiful interior, and the elaborate silver crypt of St John of Nepomuk, which dominates a side aisle of the church.

Construction of the Gothic cathedral started in 1344, but wasn’t fully completed until 1929. The delay was caused by devasting plagues and centuries of wars. The scale of the grand banquet hall in the royal place was also impressive.

It should really be part of the overall ticket to the castle, but unfortunately there is a separate entrance fee to Zlatá ulička u Daliborky, the “Golden Lane,” a row of buildings first used as barracks for the castle guards, but later the home of numerous goldsmiths that setup shops along it. The street was somewhat interesting, but can surely be missed if you are budgeting.

They are a number of spots within the castle grounds that have scenic views of Prague, but the best was at the mirador at the top of Zámecké Schody, the castle stairs, that lead back down to the Lesser Town.

On our last day in Prague we set out on a long walk to see the Dancing House, built in 1992, a deconstructivist project by Croatian-Czech architect Vlado Milunić and Canadian-American architect Frank Gehry that emphasizes a fluid asymmetrical design in the New Town section of the city. The undulating shape of the building has earned it the nickname Fred and Ginger (after the famous dancers Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers). It stands out strikingly from the 19th century buildings which surround it.

Afterwards we set out on a route that zigged and zagged across New Town to see several interesting sculptures, which unbeknownst to us at the time, were more works of Prague’s favorite hometown artist David Černý. We first came across his large aircraft shaped butterflies with moveable wings that hang on the façade of the Levels’ building, an ultra-modern gaming facility. “The butterflies symbolize peace, while the Spitfire aircraft represents war,” and are a tribute to the 359 Czechoslovak fighter pilots, who served in RAF squadrons during World War II.

We enjoyed wandering in part of the city we hadn’t previously explored. There seemed to be something that interested us down every lane.

Eventually we arrived at Černý’s Franz Kafka head, a 11m (36ft) tall stainless steel kinetic sculpture of the writer’s head that is composed of 42 layers that shift on a regular schedule to alter the head’s shape.  It draws quite a crowd that patiently waits for the subtle changes to happen.

Our next stop was the Lucerna Palace, an early 1900s Art Nouveau shopping and entertainment venue that was the precursor of the modern mall. From its ceiling hangs Černý’s Saint Wenceslas Riding a Dead Horse. The 1999 piece is said to represent the artist’s opinion on the “political situation in the Czech Republic at the time and his views on the state of society.”

Though there are 22 tram lines that criss-cross the city, the best way to absorb the ambiance of Prague it is to wander its cobbled lanes and soak in the amazing architecture and streetscapes of one of Europe’s most beautiful timeless cities.

We had originally planned to spend 5 nights in Prague, but the airline we used canceled their flight on the day of our original departure. If we had that extra day, we would have used the time to explore the area around the National Museum and the Jerusalem Synagogue, both of which are in the New Town section of Prague. 

We had a grand time in the city and hopefully will get the chance to return one day, and maybe find the other 20 sculptures of Černý that are installed around the city.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Driving Through the Baltics: Part 10 – Tartu, Estonia or Wandering through a University Town

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The street was alive with activity. Three buskers with drum, sax, and tuba were jazzily rendering Bruno Mars’ “Marry You” on the pedestrian mall full of folks strolling and bicyclists weaving amidst a food fair and participants readying their wacky go-cart entries for a Red Bull event later that afternoon.

There’s a long tradition in Estonia of student rock bands in the 70s and 80s transcribing western songs heard via Radio Free Europe broadcasts to countries behind the “Iron Curtain,” including Estonia. Soviet censors viewed any foreign influence, especially rock ’n roll as a threat to communist ideology, and these street musicians were upholding a long-standing musical tradition.

Tartu has been a university town since the 17th-century, and today 14,000 students give the city, Estonia’s second largest with only a population of 104,000, an energetic youthful vibe. They are an important part of the town’s character and are playfully acknowledged on the café-lined cobblestone plaza in front of Tartu’s City Hall with the ‘The Kissing Students’ sculpture and fountain.

The University of Tartu’s students also played a crucial role in Estonia’s expression of national identity and resistance to Soviet rule in the late 1980’s. Their support of the “Five Patriotic Songs” by Alo Mattiisen led to spontaneous mass singing demonstrations at the Tartu Pop Festival in May 1988. These musical protests spread to Tallin, then Latvia and Lithuania. These peaceful protests culminated in the The Baltic Way, a human chain of two million people which spanned from Tallinn, Estonia to Vilnius, Lithuania in August of 1989. The popularity of these peaceful movements strengthened the determination of Estonians to redeclare their independence from the Soviet Union in 1991. Latvia and Lithuania followed suit soon after.

The Kissing Students’ fountain is really the center of activity in Tartu, a splendidly walkable city. Its car-free center extends north along Küüni tn from the modern Kvartal shopping mall, with an array of nice shops, and an excellent Coop supermarket, past the central plaza all the way to the Botanical Garden of the University of Tartu. And there were numerous points of interest just off this route that we explored during our five-night stay at the Art Hotel Pallas, a boutique hotel nicely located across from the Kvartal mall, with views from our hotel room of the spires atop the town’s city hall and churches. It also had convenient free parking, and a scrumptious breakfast buffet. The pickled herring, yes for breakfast, was really good. It was the perfect spot to get some much-needed R&R after driving through Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania for three weeks.

One of the nicest things we’ve encountered during our road trip through the Baltics is the extensive amount of public art that graces the region’s cities and small towns. Few are of a historical nature. The sculptures of Lenin and Stalin that the Soviet Union installed during their fifty years of occupation to erase the Estonia’s history were quickly removed from all public spaces, and sent to the scrap yard. The current sculptures now honor influential writers, poets, and folk heroes or are simply artistic inspirations without any political messaging.

Along Küüni there was a sculpture of Irish playwright Oscar Wilde and Estonian writer Eduard Vilde depicted in an imaginary encounter between the literary heavyweights. Though the two never met, Wilde did give a lecture at the university in 1892.

Nearby was the sculpture “Father and Son,” by the Tartu native Ülo Õun (1944-1988). The Visit Tartu website explains the work represents the sculptor with his 18-month-old son, and “is a symbol of the relationship between different generations, where children are increasingly growing apart from their parents.” A side note – the Visit Tartu website has an extensive calendar of events page. In a park they had a pop-up information tent, and detrimentally to our waistlines, it was across from the Kalev Chocolate Shop and cookie store. This Estonian brand makes, in our opinion, some of the best store-bought snacks. You can buy them in grocery stores across the Baltics, but they surprisingly cost less in their own stores.

A diagonal walk through the park took us to Tartu Turuhoone, the town’s old market hall where a large sculpture of “Siga Roosi,” a pig, advertises the building’s entrance and the products available inside. If you have visited Riga’s large market, this wanes in comparison, but the pig immortalized in bronze appears to be smiling.

From here a very pleasant walk along the riverfront promenade that follows the Emajõgi River leads to the Kaarsild, an arched footbridge that spans the river to Ülejõe Park and the neighborhoods east of the historic center.

The approach to the bridge was a perfect spot to admire the beautiful buildings surrounding the town’s plaza which represent an eclectic assortment of architectural styles from the 13th to 17th centuries, when the town was a prominent member of the Hanseatic Merchant League.

At the foot of the plaza the Tartu Kunstimuuseum, a museum of art, occupies a 1793 building that is often referred to as Tartu’s Tower of Pisa. The three-story building’s 5.8 degree of tilt is actually greater than the famous tower in Italy. The tilt was a result of one side of the building being constructed on the medieval footing of the ancient defensive wall that once encircled the town, and the other side was erected above loose soil. As the decades passed, the structure slowly sank into the ground. Polish engineers successfully stabilized the building during the communist era, and it was determined safe enough to house the museum since 1988.

In the other direction there was the reflection of the growing city’s modern skyline reflected on the rippling water of the river. These views were beautiful and equally enchanting in the early evening twilight as we watched the murmurations of European starlings swooping over the river, before they noisily roosted in the park.

Just behind Town Hall and across from a large street mural of the University of Tartu was café/restaurantWerner, an excellent establishment with a nice vibe, that’s popular with both students and professionals; we dined there several times during our stay in the city.

Afterwards we took the long uphill walk to the ruins of Tartu’s immense 13th century cathedral, now on the grounds of the University of Tartu. Construction of the Gothic style church started shortly after the Brothers of the Sword subjugated the pagan tribes around Tartu in the early 1200s and lasted nearly 400 years before it was destroyed during the Livonian Wars that ravished the region. It was never rebuilt.

We chose not to, but it’s possible to climb its towers to a viewing platform above the ruins for a panoramic view of the school’s campus and Tartu. The choir end of the cathedral has been restored and since 1981 houses The University of Tartu Museum.

Heading back to the old town we passed under the Angel Bridge, built in 1838 to ease students’ efforts getting across campus. The scenic spot has a bit of a lovers’ lane reputation, as well as having several legends associated with it. The most popular one being “when you cross the bridge for the first time you should make a wish, and if you can hold your breath until you reach the other side your wish will come true.”   

Just off the lane was the Gunpowder Cellar built into the side of a hill, it’s a rustic tavern set in a cavernous old 18th century munitions warehouse with an arched brick ceiling. It’s a popular beer hall and is known for its tasty Gunpowder Red beer, while also hosting frequent band appearances.

Later in the week after having lunch at the Café Werner a second time, we turned right and wandered down Ülikooli tn towards the neoclassic columned façade of the University of Tartu’s main building. It is Estonia’s oldest and largest university and the pride and joy of Tartu. The school was originally founded 1583 as a Jesuit institution during Poland’s brief rule of the country, but most of the credit is given to the Swedish King Gustave II Adolph when he upgraded the school to a university in 1632. It was forced to close several times over the centuries due to regional wars, but was later reopened by Russian Czar Alexander I in 1802 and was again reopened by the Soviet Union after World War II, where it became an important contact spot for Soviet academics to meet their western counterparts during the Cold War era.

Farther along some of the buildings near Tartu’s St. John’s Church had unique details. Archeological evidence suggests the church dates back to the late 1100s, and could be the first “Christian church building in Estonia before the 13th-century conquest and great Christianization of the country.”  The basic form of the current church dates from the beginning of the 13th century. Due to the region’s conflicts, the church has been reconstructed several times over the centuries. Unfortunately, the church was closed when we visited the area.

At the end of Ülikooli tn a short walk to the right led us to the Botanical Garden of the University of Tartu. Though in early October it was evident that Estonia has a short growing season and most of the plants were past their prime, but we still enjoyed exploring the various oases of greenery with a number of other couples and families, and imagined how beautiful the gardens must look in the Spring and Summer.

We followed Ruutli tanav, one of Tartu’s oldest streets, back towards the historic center of the town. During the Middle Ages when the winter snows melted during the spring thaw  – “mud season” or Estonia’s “fifth season” – traveling about the countryside was quite difficult. In the larger towns like Tartu the thoroughfares were lined with logs laid perpendicularly across the road to ease the life of the townsfolk and facilitate merchant trade with the Hanseatic League through the town’s riverside port on the Emajõgi. Evidence of these ancient timbered roads is still occasionally discovered whenever there is any infrastructure improvement required in the city. Cobblestones weren’t used for the lanes through town until the 15th century.

We made a short detour off our route to the Virgin Mary’s Dormition Cathedral, an Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church. The beautiful Russian baroque style church was built in 1840 atop the foundations of an earlier wooden church that was burnt down during the 1775 Great Fire of Tartu, a devastating inferno which destroyed almost all the old wooden medieval era buildings in the central part of Tartu.

As we reached the central plaza it was evident that the weekend’s festivities were Tartu’s last big event for the summer high season. The weather was now noticeably colder with morning temperatures of 36F (2C) warming only to 54F (12C), and the outdoor café tables and chairs that lined the square were being taken down and sent into storage, until needed again next Spring. But the season is not over until the buskers stop playing and the trio of musicians from the other day were still entertaining folks around the Kissing Students fountain in the warm afternoon sun.

On our walks through the town, we came across some interesting and creative street murals. All were in well-chosen places that enhanced the wall, none were of the loud bubblegum type, though some were of a political nature. After all, our hotel was named for the Pallas Art School, which existed from 1919 to 1944 in Tartu, and was influential in establishing the aesthetic values of the newly independent country, but was closed during the communist occupation of the country.

Today the school’s artistic legacy continues at the  Pallas University of Applied Sciences which opened in 2000, and features ongoing exhibits in the Pallas Gallery.

The Gray House, now the KGB Cells museum, was uphill from the gallery, just three doors down from a busy intersection, on a street that leads to university housing. It was a non-descript door with buzzers for the three-story apartment building above it, and one for the museum. In the 1940s and 1950s the upper floors served as offices for the Soviet’s secret police. We buzzed and a voice released the door lock for us to enter the lobby, where an arrow pointed to a heavy metal door to the basement, and a set of intimidating stairs that descended to a flickering fluorescent lit hallway. It’s a small space with a dozen prison cells and several interrogation rooms in which the brutality of the Soviet years is documented. Notoriously, on July 8th & 9th, 1941, 173 men and 20 women were summarily executed and buried in the building’s courtyard. Mass deportations of 45,000 Estonians to the Soviet gulags in Siberia continued until 1953. For many it was a death sentence, and few ever returned to their homeland. Across the country the KGB is believed to have murdered nearly 60,000 political prisoners between 1940 -1991. It’s a reminder of the danger of authoritative regimes and sadly is still relevant today.

We discovered another street mural just around the corner from our hotel as we headed to dinner at Restoran Spargel. Over an enjoyable evening, we discussed plans to take advantage of the nice weather predicted for the next day by exploring the small fishing villages along the shoreline of Lake Peipus.

We thoroughly appreciated Tartu’s mix of history and youthful enthusiasm for the future. It’s a city but felt like a small town that we could see ourselves quite comfortably living in and enjoy experiencing all of its cultural events throughout the year.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Estonia Part 1: Tallinn – Captivating, Charming & Caffeinated

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Why Estonia? We are sure folks can relate, our pockets aren’t as deep as we’d like, but that doesn’t keep us home. A low budget, off-season destination is more attuned to our lifestyle anyway. So, when an under $400, September fare from New York City to Tallinn, Estonia popped up in our email we jumped at it after some research confirmed we could find some very nice hotels from $50 to $100 per night, often with breakfast included. Exploring the lesser visited Baltic countries of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania also fulfilled our desire to extend our travels beyond western Europe, which previously had been very Mediterranean-centric. Living in the very hot and humid southern United States is also affecting our decisions concerning vacation destinations, as we are now seeking alternative destinations as a result of climate change. The heat of a southern summer often continues into September and October, with temperatures at home in Georgia often in the high nineties. Estonia offered a wonderful reprieve from the sweltering summer heat with a daily high average of 14°C (57°F).

The history museum at Maarjamäe Castle was an unusual first stop for us after picking up our rental car at the airport. But it was the closest we’d be to it during our three-week road trip through Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. The museum is in a renovated 17th-century chateau, which was left to ruin for decades during the communist Russia occupation of Estonia. It is beautifully set on a bluff across from Tallinn Bay, and was built by the Brotherhood of Black Heads, a professional association of unmarried ship owners, merchants and foreigners dating from the 14th century, as a summer retreat.

Today the museum’s permanent exhibit, My Free Country, explores 100 years of modern Estonia’s history, from its 1918 declaration of independence from Russia, and the following War of Liberation, through twenty years as a sovereign nation before being invaded by Nazi Germany and communist Russia during the Second World War. The fifty years of brutal Russian occupation after World War II and communist propaganda are also covered, up to Estonia’s 1991 second declaration of independence from Russia, which was overwhelmingly supported by 78 percent of Estonians. It’s a difficult mission to reconcile the terror of the communist years into a bright, hopeful future, but historical research, as well as oral histories, document forced resettlements to Siberia and imprisonment in labor camps during the Soviet reign of terror, when Estonians were prisoners within their own country and shot if they tried to escape. The exhibit highlights a proud history of an unrelenting desire for freedom, which prevailed under the worst conditions. A history that, it is hoped, the younger generation of Estonians, who have not experienced communism, never forgets. As one quote on an exhibit referring to Russia said, “Nothing good ever comes from the east.”

After the 1991 independence, colossal, large-scale Russian propaganda sculptures, which once dominated prominent public spaces across the country, were removed from view but not destroyed, as they are part of Estonia’s history. However, they were erected behind the museum in a space fittingly called, with Estonian humor, “the Soviet Statue Graveyard.”

Our first lunch in Estonia was at the museum’s café, Maarjamäe Resto, an unexpected culinary delight, which could be considered a destination in and of itself.

It was still too early to check in to our hotel in Tallinn, so we headed nearby to the Tallinn Botanic Garden, a large park with an extensive greehouse. The grounds were quite pleasing with their plantings, and the greenhouse with its various collections of tropical plants was very interesting. Though in the section filled with cactuses from around the world, Donna, ouch!, accidently brushed one with her hand and imbedded some spines into her skin. Not a huge issue when you are home and have the proper tools to pluck the pesty spines from your skin and relieve the discomfort, but when you are traveling, it’s another issue entirely.

Fortunately, the barista operating the café in the greenhouse had dealt with this before, and he ran out to his car to fetch a roll of good old-fashioned duct tape to grasp those microscopic thorns. He was very nice, a 30ish Italian man who during conversation jokingly related that being a part time medic was not part of his job description when he was hired, and visitors getting pricked with cactus thorns happens more often than you would think.  We were curious how a warm-blooded southerner ended up in the northern Baltics. “You know there is always a woman to blame, and I followed my love back to her Estonian homeland.” We asked if he missed the warm Mediterranean weather and la dolce vita. Yes, the weather is nicer, so we visit my family, but life is better here in Estonia as there are more opportunities for those willing to work and get ahead. Estonia is leaps and bounds ahead of the other European countries in embracing digital technologies. So much so that the government considers internet access a fundamental right and ensures that everyone across the country, even on the smallest islands, has reliable internet, and offers digital literacy programs for the technology challenged. The government also endorses working from home remotely, and offers an Estonian Digital Nomad Visa. “Estonia is very big in cybersecurity, and this enables every person, business, and government institution to be connected. We are one of the most digitally advanced countries, and we can even vote securely online in Estonia.” This digital future contrasted with as well as complemented the vibrant centuries-old walled city of Tallinn.

Despite not having particular plans for Tallinn, we knew we would enjoy exploring the city as soon as we saw the ancient architecture along the way to our hotel. Having a rental car and finding a hotel with free parking is difficult in any city, but we scored big withTaanilinna Hotell. The hotel was in an excellent location, just on the opposite side of the old town’s historic ramparts, and a short walk from the 14th-century stone towers of the Viru Gate’s flower market.

Google Maps got us close, but the hotel was a little difficult to find, and we mistakenly drove through a pedestrian only area; fortunately, there were few people about. In order to find the hotel, we parked and walked down the street, when we spotted the hotel’s sign, which was set back from the lane. It’s a modest hotel, and the staff was very nice. We enjoyed a quiet 4-night stay.

With Tallinn’s old defensive wall only a stone’s throw away, history surrounded around us, and we quickly set out to explore and to find a place for dinner as twilight descended on the old town. Our wandering took us down various lanes, past distinctive centuries-old 4 to 5 story tall buildings that served, as was the medieval custom of the time, as the multifunctional home/warehouse/offices of wealthy merchants.

Lights twinkled on and illuminated the cobblestones in a golden glow. I know it’s cliché, but our first impressions of Raekoja Plats, the Town Hall Square, anchored with its soaring 64M (300FT) tall 13th-century watch tower, were beautiful, charming and magical. We were disappointed to learn that the tower is only open from the beginning of June to the end of August. We love a good tower climb!

Still retaining its original footprint, Tallinn is one of Europe’s best preserved medieval cities, with 26 watchtowers along its ancient ramparts and city gates, topped with distinctive cone-shaped red roofs.  The walled city still encircles a vibrant and active community, which supports a lively arts scene, along with a robust nightlife.

Its preservation seems surprising for a city that has stood at the crossroads of conflict since it was founded by a Danish King in the early 1200s. In addition to the Danes, Tallinn has been ruled by the Brotherhood of the Sword, the Teutonic Order, the Holy Roman Empire, the Swedish Empire, Czarist Russia, Nazi Germany, and the Soviet Union. The city’s prosperity and resilience throughout the centuries is testimony to the strong spirit of the Estonian people. 

One of the nice things we enjoy about staying in one place for several days is the opportunity to experience the locale as it quietly awakens with the sun. Whether it is cloudless blue skies or a place cloaked under clouds with folks huddled under umbrellas to ward off the rain, a place breathes and its mood changes by the hour, from day to day. The destinations on our walks were always different, but we often crossed the same lanes and stopped to photograph something different that caught our eye, which we hadn’t noticed before.

Old town Tallinn is mostly flat and is a wonderfully walkable city. There is a short uphill stretch to Toompea Hill (the upper city), where we visited the Kiek in de Kök Museum, the Bastion Tunnels, and Neitsitorn, the Maiden’s Tower. During the 1700s when the towers lost their military significance they were often repurposed as private apartments, with a craftperson’s workplace on the lower level, and rooms above. During both world wars the tunnels were used as air raid shelters. While the towers were lived in continually, most famously by the Estonian painters and twin brothers, Kristjan and Paul Raud, until the 1960s, when the city deemed them unsafe for habitation.  Abandoned, the towers became a destination for homeless squatters and Estonia’s emerging counterculture. The extensive tunnels were an area the police refused to go. A popular, unlicensed bar opened in the tower on New Year’s Eve in 1980. Unfortunately, it didn’t survive the economic turmoil of the era as the Soviet Union began its descent into a failed state.

After an extensive multiyear renovation, the Kiek in de Kök Museum opened in 2005. The Maiden’s Tower now hosts a new Neitsitorn café, which has a nice view out over the Danish King’s Garden, and the ghostly blackened bronze statues of three monks named Ambrosius, Bartholomeus, and Claudius. Legend holds that they occasionally appear spectrally in the garden, though the only thing that appeared the morning we visited was a sleek red Ferrari 296 GTB that was the center of a photo shoot. The tower also has the re-created art studio of the twins, Kristjan and Paul Raud. The tunnels under the ramparts have been creatively reenvisioned and now house a variety of interactive digital multimedia and historical exhibits.

A walkway along the ramparts between the towers at the museum led to an exhibit about Tallinn’s café culture. Though the first coffee house opened in the town of Narva in 1697, Tallinn didn’t get its first café until 1702 when one opened on Town Hall Square. The oldest still-operating café dates from 1864, when the renown marzipan bakery, Maiasmokk, decided to offer coffee to go along with their tasty, sweet treats. After 160 years the Maiasmokk Café, even surviving nationalization during the Soviet occupation, is still open and a beloved cultural institution in Tallinn. Most of the exhibits address Tallinn’s café culture during the repressive communist era, when going to a café to share a coffee was one of the few recreational activities people could afford. With our “walk a little then café” philosophy for exploring a city, we felt we had found kindred spirits in Tallinn.

Decades later Estonian’s infatuation with coffee continues. This cultural obsession was fully on display when Estonian singer Tommy Cash performed “Espresso Macchiato,” during the finals for Estonia’s 2025 Eurovision contest and came in third place! Though in Italy some humorless Italians didn’t like the caffeinated cliches and called for the song’s banning.

Other points of interest on the hill included the onion-shaped spires of the Russian Orthodox Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. It’s across the street from the pink building that houses the Estonian Parliament. (A very good eye-level view of the cathedral can be seen, on the uphill walk, from the restored bell tower of the mid-1400s St. Nicholas’ Church.

He was the patron saint of merchants and seafarers. It was formerly one of the wealthiest churches in Tallinn until it was severely damaged by WWII bombing. Fortunately, many of its fine ecclesiastical art works, acquired from the art capitals of Europe during the Hanseatic era, had been removed from the church for safekeeping at the start of World War II.  Now restored after a 30-year long renovation, the church serves as the Niguliste Muuseum, and exhibits the works that survived that cataclysmic war. Fortunately, the 105 meters, 345 ft, tall spire has an elevator that whisked us to the viewing deck.)

Farther along in one of Tallinn’s oldest churches, the 13th century St Mary’s Cathedral, there is a unique private worship box, totally enclosed with shaded windows, built directly across from and on the same level as the pulpit. Jokingly, we speculated it was designed for a wealthy patron so he could fall asleep and snore, without embarrassment, as the priest orated endlessly.

The hill also has the best vantage point for cityscapes of Tallinn’s historic skyline, the Patkuli Viewing Platform, and a mysterious red gorilla, that seems incongruously out of place. But we will leave him for you to find.

Stairs from the viewing platform ascended back toward the lower town, and we were close to Balti Jaama Turg, the Baltic Station Market. It was Tallinn’s first train station constructed in the 1860s, and became a market hall in 1993. A major renovation in 2017 totally revamped the three-level market, which has become a magnet for residents and tourists seeking a lively venue filled with diverse international eateries, antiques vendors, clothing shops, and food stores.

The next day, closer to our hotel, we wandered about, climbed more towers, walked along arched and tunneled alleyways, and descended into a cellar or two. Our walk along Müürivahe Street to the Hellemann Tower and Town Wall Walkway was quite interesting. The real prize was the view from the tower window towards Town Hall Square – it was a panorama filled with red tiled roofs and steeples.

Across from it was the Dominican Convent built in 1246. It was the oldest monastery in Tallinn and supported the adjacent St. Catherine’s Church which was completed in the early 1300’s. The convent couldn’t exist solely on the alms it collected, but the friars were an industrious group who supported themselves as farmers, and traders of fish, while also operating a brewery that sold four different kinds of beer, while they spread the gospel. “The monastery also drew profit from the veneration of relics,” and at one time, records suggest, they had “twelve silver reliquaries containing the heads of saints, with each head reputed to cure a different set of diseases.”

But everything came to an abrupt end during the Protestant Reformation in 1524 when a Lutheran mob ransacked the church and monastery, and the friars were expelled from Tallinn. A partial restoration was undertaken in 1954, and it’s now a museum, which also hosts art exhibits. Its rough stone chambers and some fine carved stone works were intriguing. We didn’t notice any fireplaces, which left us wondering how difficult living within these spartan walls must have been.

Next to the monastery is Katariina käik, St. Catherine’s Passage, an old medieval lane that separates the church from the surrounding buildings. Today it’s lined with restaurants offering Estonian cuisine, and artisanal crafts shops, featuring the talented women of the Katariina Gild who craft jewelry, weavings, ceramics, blown glass, and leatherwork. At the far end of the lane, under the arched entrance off Vene Street we found the Restaurant Munga Kelder to be a nice place to dine.

Within earshot of a town crier’s call was the Masters’ Courtyard. It similarly has unique craft vendors, but also has a restaurant that fills the courtyard with rustic tables covered with colorful tablecloths, which gives the courtyard a joyful, boisterous look.

Marzipan lovers, we had to stop one afternoon at the Maiasmokk Café. The ambiance in the front room was very old school with an ornate ceiling, and mirrored walls with polished wood trim and newspaper hooks! When’s the last time you’ve actually seen a newspaper? Their colorful back room is a temple to marzipan with display cases showcasing the sweet crafted into figurines and other shapes.  The variety was just mind boggling. And if your timing is right you might be able to see them being made.

With our sugar cravings satiated, we checked out Tallinn’s Great Guild Hall, directly across from the café. It featured several floors of interesting exhibits dedicated to the city’s history and trade guilds.

Across from the guild hall and the café is the Church of the Holy Spirit. During the medieval era it was the main church for everyday folk in Tallinn, and the first chapel to offer masses in Estonian, not German or Latin as was the tradition of the other churches in Tallinn at the time. With its stark white interior and original dark wood ornamentation, it is one of Tallinn’s least altered churches.

There were several other interesting facades down the street from the Great Guild Hall.

Tallinn has a rich nautical heritage that started during the early Viking era in the 6th-century when the area that would become Tallinn was a stop on the Baltic trade route that connected Sweden to Constantinople.  The area of Tallinn traded furs and bog iron for wine, spices, glass, and jewelry. Shortly after the Danes established rule over northern Estonia in the early 1200s, Tallinn now a larger port city, joined the Hanseatic League, a confederation of medieval trading cities located along the Baltic and North Sea coasts. The Dutch, German and Swedish merchants of this association brought several centuries of prosperity to the city that’s still reflected in the fine examples of merchants’ houses and guildhalls that line Pikk Street. The league’s maritime trading also supported ship building which remained a vital industry through the Soviet Era which saw the shipyards build warships and submarines for the Russian navy.

The importance of Tallinn’s maritime history is well told with two museums in the city.  One is housed in a squat, round, 16th-century cannon tower called Fat Margaret, which once guarded the port, but now is a modern, state of the art museum, with ship models, interactive displays, and the hull of an excavated wooden shipwreck to view.   

Its sister museum is on Tallinn’s waterfront at the Lennusadam Sea Plane Harbor. It was raining heavily the day we visited, so we didn’t see the historic ships docked outside, but we did enjoy the full-size boats on display inside the old seaplane hangar. Especially the submarine Lembit, built in Tallinn and launched in 1936, which was the pride of the Estonian Navy.

The large concrete hangars themselves are noteworthy, as the three connected shells were the largest reinforced concrete domes in the world, without any central support columns when their construction started in 1912. They were ordered built by Russian Tsar Nicholas II to shelter the seaplane squadron that was part of Peter the Great’s naval forces. It’s a cavernous space with a seaplane hanging from the ceiling, and where you can actually walk under a submarine. The museum also had a nice café which overlooked the exhibits.

When the weather was inclement or the walking distance too great, we used Uber to get around. The service worked very well for us in Tallinn. Getting to Telliskivi Loomelinnak, the Telliskivi Creative City, from the Lennusadam Sea Plane Harbor was one of those occassions and it worked perfectly.

It’s an old, street-mural covered industrial site that’s been revamped into a hip entertainment and nightlife destination with theaters, galleries, restaurants, and bars. It was a fun place to explore, but I think we skewed the demographics a little bit.

 Till next time, Craig & Donna

P.S. We purchased Tallinn Cards to use during our stay in the city and found it to be quite beneficial and cost effective. The card offered access to over 50 museums and attractions, free travel on public transportation, and discounts on sightseeing tours.

Three days in Edinburgh or Jugglers, Sandstone, Whisky & Thistle  

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Good hosts, Shopkeepers, and restauranteurs constantly apologized for the unusually cold and fickle August weather that Scotland was experiencing. In the Outer Hebrides, on the Isle of Lewis and Harris, strong winds and high tides led to road flooding in the center of Stornoway, a destination on our itinerary. “Normally the weather is perfect this time of year,” was a frequent refrain. “Lively thunderstorms,” such a nice phrase, had delayed our flight from London to Inverness, several days earlier. Later in the month heavy rain and strong winds led to the naming of the 12th storm of the 2024 season, Storm Lilian.

We had donned our Gore-tex rain gear for two days straight, and were thankful we made the investment in some reliable waterproof jackets. But yesterday afternoon as we visited The Kelpies while driving to Edinburgh, it was 65°F and the sun was shining. The weather was brilliant. Rain then clearing storms was the weather pattern that would repeat itself for the next three weeks, which provided many opportunities for some dramatic landscape photography.

With the weather predicted to be nice for the next several days, we planned to head to the Dugald Stewart Monument on Calton Hill for that iconic view of Edinburgh at sunrise. It didn’t go exactly as planned, as we didn’t get up early enough, underestimated the length of time our tram journey from the Holiday Inn Express Edinburgh – Leith Waterfront would take, and we overshot our stop.

Nevertheless, we enjoyed a quiet early morning in the Princes Street Gardens, catching Edinburgh castle in early morning light from the Ross Fountain. Before walking back to Calton Hill, as the city’s streets slowly awakened, and sculptures atop buildings glowed in the morning sun.

Along our route were solid examples of buildings constructed with Craigleith sandstone. The locally quarried stone was the building material of choice for James Craig, the 18th century Scottish architect tasked with replacing the ancient city’s medieval Old Town’s unsanitary tenements and warren of alleys, with a grid of avenues, squares, and gardens. The results, James Craig’s New Town, are today treasured as  a prime example of Georgian era town planning.

An obscure alley-like entrance across the road from the stairs to Calton Hill caught our attention and we followed a forgotten walkway into the Old Calton Cemetery. Long neglected tombs and teetering headstones dotted the graveyard. In the middle was a stately monument depicting a freed slave looking skyward to a statuesque Abraham Lincoln.  

The Scottish-American Soldiers Monument, as it is called, commemorates the six Scotsmen who volunteered to fight against slavery during the American Civil War. Donations for its construction were solicited across the Scottish dispora in the United States with the American business magnates; Andrew Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller becoming major contributors. The memorial monument was erected in 1893, was the first statue of Abraham Lincoln outside of the United Sates, and continues to be the only American Civil War monument in Europe.

Even though our heart rates were up, after the walk from the center of Edinburgh, the long climb of stairs to the top of Calton hill was a challenge, though it was well worth the effort for that iconic view across The Athens of the North. The 19th century nickname references the Grecian architectural influences incorporated into some of the city’s most notable neoclassical buildings.

Atop the hill the style is most evident in the Dugald Stewart Monument, a memorial to the Scottish philosopher and mathematician; the old City Observatory; and the National Monument of Scotland, a Napoleonic Wars memorial built in remembrance of the soldiers and sailors who fought in those wars. Afterwards we walked down the opposite side of the hill towards the Omni building, a theater and entertainment center, across from the tram stop at Picardy Place. A tall statue of Scotland’s favorite detective, Sherlock Holmes, commands the plaza located a short distance away from the birthplace of the writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. 

Our goal now was to walk towards the Port of Leith along the Leith Way to delve into some of Donna’s family history. Here’s Donna to explain:

Before I was Donna Hammell, I was Donna Leith. My mother-in-law was a sweet Italian woman who married a Scottish fellow named John Leith. In the 1970s, they traveled to Scotland to explore the family heritage. They knew that generations back, one of the Leith men had been a sailmaker with a shop along Water Street; another had been a ship builder. Mom and Dad wandered around Leith, trying to find the shop. They were about to give up the search, when they decided to ask at a pharmacy. Turns out that was the very building the sailmaker had occupied, and the people who ran the shop were cousins, once or twice removed. The two women corresponded for decades and exchanged recipes. I just baked a batch of Eyemouth Tarts – deliciously addictive little squares of candied fruit atop a buttery crust. My children are named Sandra Leith and Ian Leith, and I was determined to bring them a souvenir with the Leith name on it. Although for obvious reasons there is some antipathy between my former and current husbands, nevertheless Craig kindly indulged me on this search for my kids’ ancestry. I think he was as pleased as I was when we hit the jackpot at a lovely little store. I cleaned her out on all things Leith.

Leith Way, is one of Edinburgh’s oldest streets, that followed the line of a now long- gone earthen rampart built to defend Edinburgh from Oliver Cromwell’s army in 1650. On either side of the road, it seemed as if every storefront we passed incorporated Leith into the name of their business: Leith Shwarma, The Dog House Leith, Leith Artisan Coffee, Leith Walk Denture Studio, Leith Barber, and Tribe Leith, a yoga studio. Nearing sensory overload, we stopped for a pint of beer at the Boundary Bar. It’s an unpretentious neighborhood pub famously known for its line painted along the floor that marked the border between Leith and Edinburgh, and most importantly allowed customers who crossed to the Leith side of the bar to party an hour longer, when the pubs in Edinburgh closed at 9 PM. Leith’s advantage ended when the two cities merged in1920. Across the street we enjoyed an inexpensive lunch at the Kukina Turkish Bakery, just down from The Wee Leith Shop, which was only twice as wide as its door. Farther along we found a very nice shop, Destined for Home, with all things Leith souvenirs. Donna was thrilled!

Leith’s history was tied to the rise of Edinburgh as the seat of the Scottish crown. Archeological discoveries along the port’s waterfront suggest an extensive wharf area that dates to the 12th century. The port thrived for centuries upon shipbuilding, whaling, fishing, and glass making, along with warehouses storing whisky and wines imported from Europe. Leith was so prosperous that it had gas street lighting in 1822, and electrified its tram network in 1905, years before the town merged with Edinburgh in 1920. Severely hard times fell on Leith after WWII when ship building declined, and the advent of mega container ships required larger, modern port facilities. Notoriously, the city was unceremoniously depicted in the 1993 novel, Trainspotting. It was a much different perspective than that of the Proclaimer’s1988 hit song, Sunshine on Leith, which the BBC hailed as a “love song to the city and Scotland.” The song became an anthem of endurance for a city once down on its luck. But since then, the dock area has undergone a transformation with new office buildings and residential towers being built along the old canals and dock area of the port, reinvigorating the area and earning the designation as the “Venice of the North.”

Later that afternoon we returned to the center of Edinburgh via the tram and walked across town to theSpace @ Surgeons’ Hall, a performing arts theater, to see a play hosted by the Fringe Festival. I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change was written by award-winning playwright Joe DiPietro, who happens to be the little brother of Donna’s girlfriend from grade school. The four-person performance, the second longest-running off-Broadway play, was performed in a small intimate space with seating on three sides of the stage. The play was fantastic, and the tickets were extremely inexpensive. 

At this point we need to confess that we didn’t know anything about the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, a large three-week entertainment event held every August in Edinburgh, for over 75 years. It was only after purchasing our airfare, when we tried to book a hotel, six months out, that room availability was severely limited, and we delved deeper as to why. The Fringe Festival started as an act of rebellion against the status quo in 1947 when eight theater companies, not invited to the Edinburgh International Festival, performed on the streets in Edinburgh. The event has mushroomed over the years and in 2024 “sold more than 2.6 million tickets and featured more than 51,446 scheduled performances of 3,746 different shows across 262 venues from 60 different countries.” The Edinburgh Fringe Festival website and catalog of shows was very helpful in planning what to see. Everything we read said Edinburgh would be insanely packed with tourists. But our barometer was a New York city rush hour, and Edinburgh’s streets were an oasis of calm in comparison. Not being able to find any reasonably priced hotels near the center of the city, the Holiday Inn Express Edinburgh – Leith Waterfront, located on the tram line, was the perfect alternative.

For the next morning Donna secured us tickets for the opening time at Edinburgh Castle, and we arrived to join the small queue already forming. The top of this massive rock has been a safe haven since the Iron Age when folks first sought refuge there. It was the seat of the Scottish crown for several centuries after Malcolm III Canmore, the first King of Scotland, set foot upon the Castle Rock in the 11th century, though the principal royal residence, since its construction in the 16th century has been Holyrood Palace.

I imagine the wind carries the stories of Mary Queen of Scots, James VI, Oliver Cromwell, and soldiers barracked, and prisoners of wars in its dungeons, that walked upon the rock. Noteworthy historical oddities include: the first fireworks lit the sky above the castle in 1507 to celebrate a lavish jousting tournament hosted by James IV. In 1838, the 78th Highlanders, stationed at the castle, returned from serving in Sri Lanka with an elephant in tow. The parade ground before the castle entrance hosts a spectacular event every August evening called The Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo.

Afterwards we wandered the streets and alleys of Edinburgh’s ancient Old Town below the castle. The cheerfully painted storefronts along the bow of Victoria Street certainly brightened the day after a gloomy morning. The streets were busy with crowds gathered around entertainers performing in the squares. Eventually, we found our way to the Greyfriars Kirkyard Cemetery.

The land for the graveyard was granted to the city by Mary Queen of Scots in the mid-16th century. Soon the city started to use the graveyard for the mass burials of thousands that died during the multiple plagues that struck the city over a seventy-five year period. Though there are only several hundred headstones in the cemetery, it is thought nearly 100,000 people were buried there over a three-hundred-year period, and tour guides will have you believing it’s the most haunted cemetery in the world.

After the establishment of Edinburgh’s Medical College in the 1700s, graverobbers often exhumed the recently deceased and sold the cadavers to the school for use in their anatomy classes. The cemetery is also known for the story of Bobby, the beloved pet of John Grey. The Skye Terrier is remembered for dedicatedly guarding his owner’s grave for 14 years before his own death at age 16, in 1872. More recently, the success of JK Rowling’s Harry Potter books have drawn fans of the novels to the cemetery where the author borrowed the names of Robert Potter, Thomas Riddle (aka Lord Voldemort), William McGonagall (a famously bad poet), Elizabeth Moodie, and Margaret Louisa Scrymgeour Wedderburn off the gravestones for some of her important characters.

After lunch at the Greyfriars Bobby’s, a pub at the entrance to the cemetery, we walked across town. At the National Galleries of Scotland we stopped to watch a juggler tossing flaming torches from atop a tall teetering platform, held aloft by members of the audience.

At the Princes Street Gardens the skirl of bagpipes filled the air near the sculpture of Wojtek, an orphaned Syrian brown bear cub that Polish soldiers found in Iran, and adopted while they were serving with the British army in WWII. After the war Wojtek lived out his life in the Edinburgh Zoo.

Our destination was Dean Village, an old, though now gentrified, milling community, that once had eleven mills along the Water of Leith. It’s a tranquil bucolic area with a foot and bike path that can be followed to the Port of Leith, four miles away. Saint Bernard’s Well is along the walkway, and during the Middle Ages the water from the natural spring was believed to have curative powers.

For dinner that evening we headed back into the new town and stopped at The Black Cat pub, which was recommended as having a great selection of whisky, friendly knowledgeable bartenders, and good fairly priced food. We tried a flight of three single malt coastal whiskies. Two were from islands off Scotland’s west coast; an Arran 10 year from the Isle of Arran, and a Ledaig 10 from the Isle of Mull. The third was a Glenglassaugh 12 year distilled near Sandend Bay in northern Scotland. The young barkeep was also a well versed whisky sommelier, and guided us through the subtle influences the Atlantic and North Sea air have on the aging process.  Poetically using a cask full of adjectives to describe the Nose – floral seaside aromas, with gentle smokey palate – a malty creaminess, and finish – sublimely spicy, a kick of cloves, or an exquisite lingering saltiness, to variously describe the warm amber liquors we were enjoying. All were very nice to sip slowly, though the Ledaig 10 was a little too peaty for our taste, and we likened it to inhaling too deeply with your first cigar – it took some getting used to.

The following morning, we set off for the Palace of Holyroodhouse. It has been an official royal residence since James IV constructed the palace in1501, adjacent to the Holyrood Abbey’s cathedral that was completed in 1230. The original palace was destroyed in the 1650s when a fire consumed much of the building while it was being used as a barracks by Oliver Cromwell’s troops. Though there have been many interior alterations over the centuries, the façade of the palace today closely resembles its 1679 construction.

The Renaissance fountain in the forecourt was installed in 1850 to spiff the place up for a visit by Queen Victoria. Sadly, that seems to be the last attempt to improve the place, and our tour of the inside felt like we were walking through spartanly furnished, shabby aristocratic public housing. The Abbey’s cathedral is an ancient ruin, and the gardens surrounding the palace get much better PR than they deserve. For the exorbitant admission price, they didn’t deliver the expected enthralling experience. If you are watching your budget, we suggest skipping Holyroodhouse and visiting Stirling Castle or Dunrobin Castle with its spectacular interior and garden instead.

For our last afternoon in the city, we visited the Royal Botanic Garden, seventy acres of beautiful, manicured rolling woodland with formal gardens. We followed the signs through the park, passing under a 23ft tall hedge over 100 years old, to the Queen Mother’s Memorial Garden, that’s noted for its perennial flowers and collection of indigenous plants.

The gardens were thriving in the moist moderate weather of Scotland, and bursting with color. At the very end of the garden is a small building called The Memorial Pavilion. It’s very unique, with every square inch of the interior walls and ceiling covered with shells collected by school children all across Scotland.

Planted outside was a bed of thistle, Scotland’s national flower. Scottish folklore credits the thistle with saving an ancient village from a Viking raid, when the barefooted invaders stepped on the spiky plant. Their cries of agony alerted the sleeping warriors of the village who then defeated their enemy. It has since become an important symbol of Scottish heraldry, and being invested into the ancient chivalric order of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, is one of Scotland’s and England’s highest awards. The prickly flower was even celebrated in a 1926 poem, A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle, by the famous Scottish poet by Hugh MacDiarmid. The epic, “stream-of-consciousness” poem touches on everything from the state of the nation and the mysteries of the universe to the joy of whisky.

Edinburgh was a fantastic destination, that requires multiple visits to fully explore.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

P.S. The Scotland Explores Pass helped with the price of admission to many sites across the country.