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Vietnam: Ho Chi Minh City – A Dynamic Blending of the Old and New or Scooters, Neon, and Warm-Hearted People

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Scooters everywhere, with apocalyptic-looking masked and helmeted riders roaring along the streets, like cells in our veins always moving never stopping. Individuals off to work, parents taking kids to school, and florists delivering large floral bouquets, along with ice vendors whose towers of bagged ice tied to the backs of their scooters were slowly melting away in the heat.

Cartons of fresh eggs, ladders, toolboxes, and wheelbarrows all whizzed by our GrabTaxi, the Vietnamese equivalent to Uber, as we headed into the city. Think Mad Max set in a metropolis of ten million; Ho Chi Minh City, formerly called Saigon, was crazy!

What had we gotten ourselves into? With horrific traffic like this into the city from the airport, downtown must be a congested nightmare! But it wasn’t. The cars, buses, and scooters flowed in an impressively smooth manner during the morning rush-hour without tempers flaring or any horns being blasted.

Along our route, ubiquitous Xe Bánh Mì and Xôi, bread and sticky rice carts, were set up along the roadside curb to offer takeaway, while also offering low colorful plastic stools on the sidewalk for customers to perch on while they ate.  These street vendors offered Banh mi, small French style baguettes stuffed with various fillings, or a variety of Xôi Mặn, savory sticky rice dish, traditionally served wrapped in banana leaves or a paper container nowadays.

Crossing the street was quite an adventure. We soon realized we couldn’t be timid, and followed the locals’ lead; wait for the light to change and once you commit don’t hesitate. Scooters drivers will give way; they really don’t want any pedestrians as fender ornaments.

After our long flight we spent the balance of the afternoon resting after checking into the Au Lac Legend Hotel, named for the ancient Vietnamese Kingdom. The small boutique hotel was our base for seven nights. It was conveniently located in District 3, an interesting area where “The Pearl of the Far East” remnants of Vietnam’s French colonial past merge with the vitality of a modern neon lit and towering skyline in District 1.  There is a confusing merging of districts and reorganizing them into different administrative subdivisions in progress.

Later that evening we walked to Ben Nghe Street Food, a large food hall with many different stands offering a great variety of foods from seafood and Pho noodles to Bún Thịt Nướng, Vietnamese Grilled Pork & Rice Noodles. With a nightly band singing a mix of Vietnamese, and American pop songs, that included the Rolling Stones, Johnny Cash, and the Village People’s YMCA, along with its delicious food and good vibes, it’s a popular spot for locals and tourists.  

After dinner we continued our first explorations of the city and headed to the Ho Chi Minh City People’s Committee building in District 1. It is a historic French colonial building constructed in 1902 that served as the Hôtel de Ville, Saigon’s city hall. Tall buildings with electronic billboards now tower over the People’s Committee Building and the in the plaza across the street there’s an imposing monument to Ho Chi Minh, the communist leader whose military campaign reunited North and South Vietnam.

On our route back to the hotel, brightly decorated street posts sponsored by BIDV, the Bank for Investment and Development of Vietnam, lit our way. Outside a college, small groups of students taking a break from their evening classes were gathered, two or three friends on a blanket along the sidewalk, thoughtfully supplied by their snack vendor.

Torrential rain and high humidity define the monsoon season that ends during late September in southern Vietnam. The streets were steaming the next morning when we peeked through the curtains of our room, but the weather report forecast clearing skies. The humidity was intense, even for two folks living in the southern United States. What we didn’t expect was the extraordinary amount of time it took for our camera lenses to defog. We observed the balletic chaos of the morning rush, which now included bicycles and an occasional xích lô, or cyclo, a traditional human-powered bicycle rickshaw where the passenger sits in a seat in front of the driver. Along with helmeted tourists and fashionably dressed women sitting side saddle as scooter passengers on GrabBikes.

Our destination for the morning was the War Remnants Museum,several blocks from our hotel, but along the way we detoured to Tao Dan Park, where morning calisthenics are a daily ritual for older folks and women who have just gotten their children off to school. The park was full of hundreds of people practicing traditional Tai Chi, aerobics, badminton, Vo Thuat Quat (fan martial arts), and Múa Kiếm (a sword dance).

In multiple sections of the park folks twisted, turned, and stretched to classical Asian music, channeled Richard Simmons with eighties pop songs, or pursued a modified course inspired by Chloe Ting, a YouTube fitness instructor. In front of the Temple of the Hung Kings, the legendary founders of the Viet dynasties more than 4,000 years ago, was a fountain with a beautiful display of orchids. Nearby the soft aroma of jasmine drifted on the air in a sculpture park.

Everyday during our teen years – this certainly ages us – the Vietnam War was on the front page of every newspaper and the nightly news. We are not historians; the victors write their history and the War Remnants Museum does document both French and American participation in a horrific war. Though the museum does not address the story of the Vietnamese boat people, more than 800,000 refugees who fled Vietnam by sea between 1975 and 1995 following the war. Nor does it address the forced labor “re-education” camps spread across the country where the victorious Vietnamese communist government interned nearly one million people for three years or longer in a system of prison camps modeled after the Soviet Union’s gulags in Siberia.

Ho Chi Minh City was interesting to walk around and the next day we headed to Tân Định Parish Church, a Catholic church dating to the 1870s that’s admired for its distinctive pink façade and Gothic pillars. We then continued to Hồ Con Rùa, Turtle Lake, a large manmade lake in the center of a traffic circle. The site originally housed a water tower built in 1878, which was later replaced in 1921 with a statue of three French soldiers around a water fountain, symbolizing their colonial rule over Vietnam. This monument lasted until the French army left Vietnam in 1956. The lake was later enlarged in 1967, and the concrete tower that looks like a blooming flower was added by the newly elected president Nguyen Van Thieu of the Republic of Vietnam.

There’s a legend associated with the tower – it says that the president, to ensure his success, “invited a famous Chinese feng shui master to assess the land at Independence Palace,” now Reunification Convention Hall. The feng shui master praised the palace for being built on a dragon’s head, but the dragon’s tail was wildly thrashing about in Turtle Lake. In feng shui terms, this was really bad news for political stability, and a large turtle needed to be cast to hold down the dragon’s tail. Following the master’s advice a turtle sculpture was cast and placed at the center of walkways built over the lake that resemble a bagua, a feng shui symbol used for protection. And the flower shaped tower was reinterpreted as the shaft of an arrow shot into the tail of the dragon to pin it down. The turtle didn’t survive the city’s new communist regime and was destroyed in 1976. The plaza, surrounded by a variety of restaurants and coffee shops, was a nice place to relax for a while.

There are many upscale stores and shops across the city, but for every fancy store there are multiple small mom and pop shops that specialize in one item, like glassware or wicker, which is spilled onto the sidewalk in order to show the wares. There were numerous small mechanic shops that tended to the thousands of scooters that whizz around the city; they conducted their business on the sidewalks, repairing tires, changing oil, rebuilding engines, or doing body work and spray painting. This sidewalk sprawl often forced us to walk in the street to pass by.

A large metal relief sculpture above the entrance to the Ho Chi Minh City Museum of History caught our eye as we headed to the Saigon Zoo and Botanical Garden in District 1. The cataclysmic scene commemorates the great victory of Vietnamese General Trần Hưng Đạo over the army of the invading Mongol Empire in 1288. The captioning on its placard described it as “emphasizing national heroism and successful resistance against foreign invasion, a recurring theme in Vietnamese history.”

Founded by the French in 1864, the zoo is the eighth oldest in the world and a beloved destination for generations of Vietnamese families. The botanical section with its topiary sculptures of wild animals is what drew us here and we spent about two hours wandering the gardens amid flowering plants, a collection of bonsai trees, some irresistible reptiles, and a miniature Jurassic Park geared for kids. 

Turning left upon exiting the zoo we were waiting for a traffic light to change at the intersection of Nguyễn Hữu Cảnh, when we noticed a row of recently painted patriotic street murals. Obviously, these were government approved to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War and the thriving economy that Vietnam now enjoys. Graffiti is unheard of and unapproved street art as a form of expression is illegal throughout the city, and the few decorative murals on buildings we saw were apolitical but still required the city’s permission. While talking about the unusual, we also didn’t see any homeless people sleeping rough on the streets. This is due to active government policies that relocate homeless individuals to social support centers, their home region, or shanty towns away from the city center.

Walking back towards the historic center of District 1 we passed tall glass office buildings and transportation infrastructure projects built to sustain one of the fastest-growing economies in Southeast Asia, which is transforming Ho Chi Minh City into a global financial hub by focusing on digital technologies, finance, and high-tech industries.

Near a plaza along the Sông Sài Gòn riverfront with a statue of the legendary General Tran Hung Dao we ducked into a passageway, off Mạc Thị Bưởi, lined with artwork called Alley 39 that opened to a narrow lane lined with small no-frills restaurants filled with folks. We found one with an empty table and enjoyed Pho for lunch.

Afterwards we headed to the Municipal Theatre of Ho Chi Minh City, Saigon’s old opera house built by the French in 1897. It’s a fine example of grand colonial architecture, and it served as the legislative assembly for South Vietnam after the war before being restored to its original use and declared a national monument in 2012. Surrounding the opera house are several small squares with musical themed statuary. It’s also a popular place for couples to have their engagement and wedding photos taken and there even seemed to be two vintage sports cars permanently parked there to facilitate a variety of shots.

It was a long hot and humid day, but we strolled slowly back to our hotel past Saigon’s monumental Central Post Office. Across from it was the Notre Dame Cathedral of Saigon, wrapped in construction scaffolding for a multi-year renovation. It was extravagantly constructed between 1863 and 1880 with every brick, piece of structural steel, nail and stained glass window imported from France. Both structures are beloved vestiges of the city’s colonial past and historic landmarks. While Vietnam’s communist government officially guarantees religious freedom in its constitution, it heavily regulates Buddhist, Catholic, Protestant, and Islamic houses of worship and the activities they support via the Government Committee for Religious Affairs.

Next to the post office was Nguyen Van Binh Book Street, a pedestrian-only lane lined with books, shops, and cafes. As we enjoyed a cup of coffee in a café, the bookseller across the way sent her young daughter over chat with us, to practice her English. The young girl spoke very well, and we enjoyed her company, but she soon lost interest and wandered off.

The next day we hired a private driver, a relative of the hotel’s concierge, to take us to the town of Thủ Dầu Một to see the reclining Buddha at the Hoi Khanh Pagoda complex, and several smaller temples on the return trip to the city. This was a fascinating ride down roads filled with overburdened scooters delivering various wares and lined with weathered roadside businesses that included a rubber clogs shop and factory with thousands of brightly colored shoes, a coffin shop, poultry and gold fish stores, a birdcage shop, various statuary makers, one of which had a Statue of Liberty out front, and numerous mechanic shops. It’s traditional for business owners to live above their tightly spaced shops in narrow dwellings called “tube homes,” which are often faced with marble to reflect the prosperity of the owners.

The massive pure white Buddha is 52m (170ft) long and reclines atop the temple’s two-story Buddhist academy. Along the base of the giant statue are 20 reliefs showing the life of the Buddha from his birth to his Parinirvana. According to the Buddhist tradition, women cannot ascend to the status of a Buddha — one who is awake, enlightened and emancipated. I like to tease Donna, who is a Methodist minister, that she might have been a little too close for the Buddha’s comfort, and he pushed her as she was coming down the stairs. Fortunately, a very sweet vendor selling flowers for offerings gave Donna an herbal salve to help with the immediate pain while our driver hurried down the street and bought two bags of ice from a nearby restaurant, to help reduce the swelling. 

Across the street was the site of the original small Hoi Khanh temple, first established in 1741 by Zen Master Đại Ngạn Từ Tấn, a third-generation monk. This temple was destroyed during fighting in 1861, as the French colonial army colonized southern Vietnam. The temple is a major spiritual site in the region and continuous to evolve with additions of the seven-story pagoda in 2007, along with the academy and reclining Buddha in 2010.

Returning to Ho Chi Minh City, we visited the Vinh Nghiem Buddhist Temple in District 3, where we incorrectly assumed that classical design of the temple reflected its ancient history, only to learn that the temple complex was started in 1964 by two monks who migrated from North Vietnam to spread the Truc Lam Zen meditation sect to the south of the country.  The Vinh Nghiem Pagoda holds an important role in the spiritual life of Ho Chi Minh City. “It serves not only as a place of worship but also as a center for moral education and community learning. The temple actively promotes Buddhist teachings on compassion, mindfulness, and filial piety through lectures, study courses, and social activities.” It’s a large complex with many areas and a 14m (46ft) tall stone memorial tower, that was once the tallest in Vietnam. In the Buddha Hall we received our first introduction to Buddha puja, a devotional tradition that symbolizes respect to Buddha by offering fruits, clean water, non-alcoholic drinks, or vegetarian foods. These offerings are often shared daily with the less fortunate.

The Saigon Cao Dai Temple in District 5 was the last temple we visited and fascinatingly different, with a tarpaulin covered courtyard sheltering scooters, coffins and a hearse. Cao Dai was formally established in 1926 in southern Vietnam by Ngô Văn Chiêu, a civil servant who received divine revelations, along with several others who practiced spiritualism, to create a syncretic religion that unites the philosophies of Buddhism, Confucianism, Hinduism, Catholicism, Protestantism, Judaism, and Islam into a into a single, universal faith. 

The group revealed through séances the faith’s three saints and “Divine Messengers;” French writer Victor Hugo; Sun Yat-sen, a Chinese revolutionary who fought against oppressive rule; and Nguyễn Bỉnh Khiêm, a 16th century poet regarded as the “Vietnamese Nostradamus” for his accurate prophecies. The faith’s minor saints include Joan of Arc, Thomas Jefferson, William Shakespeare and Louis Pasteur, amongst others. In the sanctuary colorful dragon motifs surrounded an altar prominently displaying the Eye of Providence.

On our last day in the city we waited for morning showers to clear before we took a GrabTaxi to Landmark 81. With eighty-one floors, this has been Vietnam’s tallest skyscraper since its completion in 2018, a symbol of Vietnam’s economic growth, and an iconic structure on the city’s quickly evolving skyline. It’s a mixed use building with a shopping mall and entertainment complex, residential apartments, and the Vinpearl Landmark 81 – Autograph Collection hotel. We, however, were there for the fantastic panoramas of Ho Chi Minh City’s sprawling metropolis from its SkyView observation deck.

Afterwards we took another GrabTaxi to Ben Thanh, the city’s old central market in district 1, where a bazaar has been on this site since the 1600s. The current building dates from the French in 1914. It’s a sprawling place with hundreds of stalls offering clothing, food and everything in between. The premium outer perimeter stalls are operated by the government with set pricing, while the maze of hundreds of inner stalls offer dynamic opportunities to bargain. We bought several shirts and blouses, along with some dresses for our granddaughters at very reasonable prices. Nearby was the nicest fish store we’ve ever visited. It featured a towering pyramid of sculptural water tanks holding the fresh catch of the day. 

After returning to the hotel for a reprieve from the day’s heat and humidity, we headed out in the early evening to Bui Vien Walking Street, the city’s center for nightlife. It’s known for its partying atmosphere along a vibrant neon-lit street lined with open-air kitchens, bars and clubs that stay open into the early hours of the mornings. It was a fun place to stroll, and people watch as the night sky darkened and more groups filled the street.

We are not sure why it took us so many years to get to Southeast Asia, and Vietnam in particular. It was a nice change from our European centric vacations, and we found Ho Chi Minh City to be a youthful, vibrant and energetic destination that was very affordable compared to the United States and Europe. Everyone we encountered was friendly and welcoming, with the hotel staff almost feeling like family by the time we left. And we managed to stay dry during the occasional monsoon downpour with the help of umbrellas provided by our hotel.

Since the airfare is a considerable portion of any trip, we also booked a cruise up the Mekong River to Cambodia because we’re not sure if we’ll get a chance to return one day or decide to explore other areas of Asia. But after getting our feet wet in Vietnam, we are confident we’ll enjoy wherever we choose to go next in the region.

Book your flights!

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

A Balkans Road Trip Part 9: Split, Croatia – Rocky Coasts, Sunny Skys and Relics

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From Mostar our route along the M6.1 climbed above Stari Grad into karst mountains covered in a garrigue landscape freshly green with the colors of spring. Along the high road, sweeping views of farmlands, vineyards and orchards spread west to the horizon where the Biokovo Mountain range rose and separated Bosnia and Herzegovina from Croatia’s Dalmatian coast and the Adriatic Sea.

It wasn’t the fastest route to the ancient city of Split, but it avoided backtracking along roads that we had driven on during some day trips from Mostar, and allowed us to see a different part of the region. Getting our exit and entrance stamps at the Vinjani Gornji/ Osoje  Border Crossing went smoothly and we were soon driving through the Sveti Ilija tunnel to the Makarska Riviera and Baška Voda. The town is dramatically set at the foot of the western slope of the Biokovo Mountains which tower above it and provide a dramatic backdrop to the beaches and harbor along the town’s waterfront.  We parked and enjoyed lunch at a restaurant across from the harbor, one of the few eateries open midweek early in the May shoulder season.

After lunch we strolled a little way along the Lungomare Promenade, a 60km (37mi) coastal walkway that starts north in Brela and runs south passing through pine forests, alongside pebble beaches, and  seaside villages to Makarska, before ending in Gradac. During the summer high season Baška Voda’s crystal-clear Nikolina Beach is a popular destination along the promenade. It’s been a Blue Flag beach since 2006 and is often listed as one of the nicest beaches in the Mediterranean.  The town is also a favorite spot to splurge on a boat hire to explore the nearby islands of Brač and Hvar.

The ride north along coastal Rt8 was gorgeous, and we stopped at nearly every scenic overlook along the way. Outside of Dubci the Stella Maris lookout provided a fabulous vista to the south of the rugged Makarska Riviera.

Some of the towns along the way hosted large marinas filled with massive superyachts and sailboats of every size, where boatyard workers were busy readying the vessels for the start of the warm weather boating season. Our favorite sight though was the shipwright, who was extending the life of one, old wooden tour boat for a few more years, in a small boatyard along the side road in Omiš.

The narrow roads around Diocletian’s Palace in Split’s historic center are normally congested at any time, though even more so in the days preceding the annual May 7th Feast of Saint Domnius. Martyred in 304 AD by the Roman Emperor Diocletian, he is also the city’s patron saint. Fortunately, our hosts at Pellegrini Luxury Rooms recommended several parking areas and we were able to find a convenient lot within easy walking distance from the small boutique guest-house converted from a 200-year-old historic stone building, that was once the home of a wealthy merchant. The inn was just 60m (200ft) from the palace’s Zlatna Vrata, the golden gate, and the giant statue of Gregory of Nin, which we would pass many times during our in Split.

Nin was a bold medieval bishop in the 10th century who advocated strongly for the use of the Croatian language in religious services so that Croats could understand the liturgy, a move which Pope John X outlawed in 925. It’s common practice in Split to rub the golden big toe of Nin’s 8.5-meter (28 ft) tall statue, because legend believes it brings good fortune and the fulfillment of wishes.

After settling into our room, we headed into Diocletian’s Palace, a huge fortified grand estate the size of a city block in Manhattan. It took ten years to build before the Roman Emperor voluntarily retired to it in 305AD to tend his gardens, where he was particularly fond of “growing cabbages,” preferring peace over the “storms of a never-satisfied greed.” Though his retirement city is a far cry from a pensioner’s cottage in the countryside.

Diocletian was a hometown boy, born in Croatia around 244 AD, who rose through the Roman army’s ranks to become a prominent calvary commander during the rule of Emperor Carus. After Carus and his son Numerian died while returning from a successful  campaign in Persia, Diocletian, who was commander of Carus’s elite imperial bodyguard, was proclaimed emperor by the troops. This was contested by Caru’s surviving son, Carinus, whom Diocletian defeated in 285 AD at the Battle of the Margus in Serbia to retain the throne. His reign was known for stabilizing the frontiers of the Roman Empire and dividing the empire into Eastern and Western halves for administrative purposes, the precursor to what eventually became two separate empires. He also initiated the last, most severe and systematic persecution of Christians before the empire slowly began to adopt Christianity under Emperor Constantine in 312AD.

Following narrow alleys, some of which needed retaining braces across them to prevent the centuries’ old buildings from collapsing onto the cobblestones, we reached the Peristyle, the imperial plaza.

A marching band was playing as part of the prelude to the celebrations for the Feast of Saint Domnius. Fans of the Game of Thrones television series will recognize the Peristyle as the filming location for the city of Meereen, during seasons three to six.

Surrounded by a colonnade of Corinthian columns, this was the ceremonial heart of the palace, with the Temple of Jupiter, as well as Diocletian’s mausoleum, now the Cathedral of St. Domnius. The cathedral’s belltower, which blends Romanesque and Gothic styles, is the tallest along the Dalmatian coast at 57m (187 ft) in height and took over 300 years to build from when its cornerstone was laid in the 13th century. If you have the stamina, the belltower is open for folks to climb 183 steps to the top, for a beautiful view over the city. 

On the other side of the Peristyle a Roman Temple of Venus once stood, though only a circular marble medallion denoting the position of the temple remains on the floor of the Lvxor Café. The café’s site has gone through multiple reconstructions across the centuries before receiving its ornamented columned façade in the Middle Ages, when it was used as Split’s City Lodge, an administration center.  Later it was repurposed as an elaborate home for various Split noble families until 1941, when the Lvxor Café opened. It’s now a popular place for coffee and dinner, and to people-watch while sitting on the steps out front on cushions they provide.

At the far end of the plaza were the stairs to Dioklecijanovi Podrumi, the palace cellars, which were also used as the location for a dragon’s dungeon in Game of Thrones. At the other end of the cellars was the Porta Maris, or Sea Gate, where imperial galleons rowed by slaves once docked along the palace’s seaward wall. Stairs going up also led to the Vestibul of the royal quarters. It’s a tall cylinder-shaped tower with a dramatic ocular opening at the top which illuminates the interior wall with a round beam of light on a sunny day. From here various passages, now walled off, led to different living areas within the palace.  

With the decline of the Western Roman Empire, Avar and Slavic tribes began attacking the region in the early 7th century, and large numbers of folks living in the area fled to safety behind the palace’s defenses. Over the centuries these refugees turned the palace into a small bustling medieval city where homes and trade shops were built within, around, and on top of the palace walls and halls. It was during this time that Diocletian’s mausoleum was converted into the Cathedral of St. Domnius, and the relics of the saint were encased in a silver bejeweled bust and displayed in a side chapel of the church, while the Temple of Jupiter was repurposed as the church’s baptistry.

The city became an important Roman port after the region was reconquered by the Byzantine Empire, the former Eastern Roman Empire. Today, Diocletian’s Palace is a vibrant UNESCO World Heritage Site, and a living city with 3,000 residents that live behind its walls, blending history and daily life. Locals and tourists enjoy coffee in cobbled courtyards, and shops and restaurants invite visitors into buildings that have stood for nearly two millennia.

We exited the Sea Gate, now 60m (200ft) from the sea onto the Splitska Riva, a wide palm tree lined promenade along Split’s harbor. Looking back at the palace, we saw the last vestiges of Diocletian’s private cryptoporticus, a columned and arched balcony that extended along the entire waterfront façade of the palace. The columns and arches still stand, but the spaces between them were walled up with windows ages ago and turned into apartments, and boutique hotels like the Heritage Hotel CardoandPalace Suites Heritage Hotel. Lined with umbrellaed tables restaurants and bars, the Riva is a popular spot to dine outdoors and enjoy some Croation wines or the ubiquitous Aperol spritz.

As the day’s shadows lengthened we strolled along the waterfront and watched various cruise ships arrive, and ferries depart for Hvar or other nearby islands. There is also a twice a week ferry service to Ancona, Italy. At the end of the Riva, workers were busy assembling a large stage for the May 7th festivities.

Past the Riva at the end of the quay, we enjoyed dinner seated outside on a terrace that overlooked the harbor at Konoba Fratelli. Their specialty, of course, was seafood. The quality of the seafood was splendid, and it was so fresh. Locally caught, the morning catch moved quickly from the fishing boats to restaurants the same day, and we couldn’t get enough of it. Afterwards the sunset silhouetted the palm trees along the Riva as we headed back to our hotel. The marble surface of the Peristyle’s plaza and the cobblestones of the old palace, polished smooth by centuries of foot traffic, warmly reflected the old town’s night lights.

Split was delightful to explore, and we spent our days soaking in the ambiance of its weathered walls, interesting vignettes and small plazas with numerous places to stop for a leisurely café.

Outside the walls of Diocletian’s Palace, the surrounding streets and neighborhoods that grew up around the citadel were equally interesting with historic squares and sculptures. The stone lanes were wider, but only enough to allow an innovative burek deliveryman with his three-wheel scooter to scoot by when we pulled in our chairs on the lane at the Tinel Specialty Coffee Shop, a nice place for a variety of coffees and small bites.

Down from Trg Republike, Republic Square, on Matošića ul, a long line had formed at Kantun Paulina, Paulina’s Corner, a small tavern that allegedly has been serving the best ćevapčići, in Split for close to fifty years. Cevapčići is a heavenly combination of grilled kababs served in a somun flatbread, similar to a pita, and garnished with diced red onion, creamy kajmak, and ajvar, a relish of red peppers and eggplant. At Paulina’s it’s a popular takeaway food.

The old town gave way to newer high rise apartment blocks as we walked along Ul. Zrinsko Frankopanska, a tree-lined shady street, to the Split Archaeological Museum.

This was a fascinating museum with a large courtyard and surrounding portico which sheltered an extensive collection of Roman architectural elements, statues and exquisitely carved sarcophagi unearthed in Split and the surrounding region. Inside there are exhibits of coins and jewelry, as well as artefacts from earlier ages.

Backtracking we had dinner at the Downtown Grill Split where their freshly made burrata was delectably soft and creamy on the inside and the grilled octopus marvelously tender. Through our travels we’ve gotten into the habit of having our dessert and coffee in another establishment after dinner. We’ve found it to be a nice way to experience a greater variety of eateries in a limited amount of time. Split takes its coffee scene, an integral part of the social fabric of the city, very seriously. With that in mind we only had to walk a few feet across the small plaza to Stow Coffee Roasters Split, a local favorite and one of several new specialty coffee shops that include Kava2, D16 Coffee, and 4Coffee Soul Food that have opened across Split in the last couple of years.

The next morning was May 7th, Saint Domnius’ feast day. Outside the palace’s East or Silver Gate, preparations were underway for a colorful religious banner-led procession with scores of people and school children dressed in traditional costumes. The participants were preparing to accompany the silver-encased relic of Saint Domnius, which had been brought from the cathedral for the occasion.

It was a well-attended pageant with thousands of spectators lined up along the route to watch the procession make its way down the Riva to the stage that had been constructed earlier in the week, where a mass was then held before returning the relic to the church. Later that day the festival ended with an evening concert featuring local musicians, but thunderstorms canceled plans for a fireworks display over the harbor.

The morning and afternoon weather was perfect, and we spent the day investigating the Gradska Tržnica, Split’s daily outdoor morning market, that featured some early spring vegetables, cut flowers, tasty Croatian cheeses and wine, along with permanent small butcheries and fishmongers. We love cheese and purchased some vacuum packed goat cheese made by the award winning Gligora Dairy on the nearby island of Pag and a Dalmatian kozji sir roko goat cheese to savor when we returned to the states.

Afterwards we strolled along crafts booths on the Riva where it’s been a tradition to buy something wooden from the crafters of Solana, modern Solin, where Domnius was once bishop. The tradition is so old no one is sure exactly why or how it originated, but it has been in existence for centuries. One of our little traditions is to purchase a handmade wooden spoon from a local business, and we were hard put to choose just one from the immense selection. The craftsmen’s tents were also full of wooden spoons, cutting boards and klepetalo or ptice klepetuše. These are wooden toys with birds or butterflies at the end of a long stick with wheels. When pushed along the wings of the flying creatures flap and they clack as they go. Literally hundreds of kids were playing with them, and wooden spoons protruded from numerous shopping bags. It’s a very festive occasion.

We had a grand time exploring Spilt. It was especially nice being there during the Feast of Saint Domnius, which gave the city a wholly different cultural dimension. It was the perfect place to end our travels through Slovenia, Bosnia & Herzegovina, and Croatia, a roundtrip journey that started and ended at the airport in Zadar.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

A Balkans Road Trip Part 8: Bosnia and Herzegovina: Mostar, Počitelj and the Kravica Waterfall – Charming, Intriguing and Magnificent

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We had been in the Balkans almost two weeks by now, and this was the first time we encountered heavy traffic. Without realizing it we had planned on driving from Sarajevo to Mostar on May 1st, Labor Day, a major two-day holiday in Bosnia, where it is traditionally spent picnicking and relaxing with family and friends in the countryside. It was a warm beautiful spring day, and did in fact feel as if every family in Sarajevo was heading to Mostar, in the southern Herzegovina region, turning what would normally be a two-hour drive into five.

Our journey was off to a good start as we headed southwest on the A1, from Sarajevo through the rolling foothills of the Dinaric Mountain Range, a wide 644km (400mi) long stretch of peaks that runs southeast from Slovenia through Croatia, Bosnia, Montenegro, Serbia, Kosovo, Albania, and North Macedonia. But it soon slowed as this major four-lane wide infrastructure project, which will eventually reach the Adriatic coast, narrowed for construction projects. The countryside was lush with fresh spring greenery, though disappointedly there were not any scenic pullovers along the way, and we contented ourselves as best we could, by taking landscape photos through the window of our car as we drove.

Our “drive a little then café” yearning for caffeine was seriously overdue, so we detoured slightly to Restoran Vrata Hercegovine for coffee and lunch when the A1merged into the two-lane E73 at the traffic circle in Bradina. They had a large menu to select from and everything we ordered was very good; the pricing very budget friendly.

From here the E73 basically follows the Trešanica River, the headwaters of which flow from the slopes of Mt. Bitovnja 1,700m (5600ft) which wasn’t far from where we stopped for lunch, to Konjic where it merges with the Neretva River at Konjic before flowing into Lake Jablanica. We had originally planned to have lunch here and walk across the Stara Ćuprija, Konjic’s old Ottoman bridge, a six-arch stone span constructed in 1682. The bridge is 107km (66mi) downstream from the river’s source on the slope of the Zelengora mountains near Mt. Maglić 2,388m (7835), Bosnia’s highest peak on the border with Montenegro. Nearer to Konjic is Glavatičevo, a popular village for river rafting on the Neretva.

The road roughly traces Lake Jablanica’s picturesque shoreline. The large lake is actually a manmade reservoir that is 30km (19 mi) long and covers 67.5 square kilometres (26.1 sq mi). The damming of the upper portion of the Neretva River was created between 1947 and 1955 to supply hydroelectric power to the region. While this was the first dam built on the Neretva River there are now many environmentally controversial proposals to block the remainder of free-flowing waterway with 50 more dams across the river and its tributaries. In Ostrožac there was a nice beach where we stopped to take photos of the Lake.

South of the lake we detoured to the Old Neretva Train Bridge in the town of Jablanica, an important site during the “Battle of the Wounded” during February–March 1943. Here Josip Tito led the escape of over 20,000 Yugoslav Partisans, plus roughly 4,000 wounded, east across the Neretva River to escape the pursuit an overwhelming Axis force assembled to destroy them after their unexpected victory at Prozor.

This successful strategic retreat relied on a deception which required the destruction of all the bridges across the Rama and Neretva rivers between March 1stand 4th. This action led the Axis forces to believe the partisans were headed towards northern Bosnia, while in fact Tito was leading his men to safety on March 7th and 8th across a temporary wooden bridge built across the Neretva, in just 18 hours, after the rail bridge was destroyed. A museum at the site commemorates this history. As does the 1969 movie “The Battle of Neretva” starring Orson Welles and Yul Brynner, among an international cast by directed Veljko Bulajić. The film was a contestant in the best foreign film category in the Academy Awards that year. The European film poster for the movie was famously designed by Pablo Picasso, in which he used motifs of his painting “The Rape of the Sabine Women” but “painted them red to symbolize the anti-fascist fight for freedom.” It’s one of the two movie posters that Picasso ever designed. The artist refused payment, instead requesting 12 bottles of Yugoslavia’s finest wines gathered from across the region.

Our 55km (34mi) drive from Ostrožac on Lake Jablanica to Mostar paralleled the river as it coursed through rugged gorges on its way to the Adriatic Sea and was gorgeously scenic, pun intended.

There is time-limited metered street parking in Mostar’s old town near the historic old bridge, Stari Most. Many folks decide to visit Mostar as part of a guided day trip from Sarajevo, Dubrovnik & Split, Croatia or even as far afield as Kotor, Montenegro. We chose to base ourselves in the Hotel Kriva Ćuprija for four nights to enjoy Stari Grad, the old town, and explore the region. We parked in a convenient monitored lot at the foot of Onešćukova that the hotel recommended. The view from our room looked out over slate roofs, a mosque, and an old stone bridge.

The 1990s war in Bosnia brought total devastation to Mostar, where an estimated ninety percent of the buildings were destroyed by forces bombarding the city from the surrounding hilltops. Mostar was once a tiny hamlet along the Neretva River, before the Ottomans seized it and transformed it into an important multicultural trading center and frontier garrison town during their 15th century conquest of Bosnia. The site where the hotel stands overlooking the Crooked Bridge, Kriva Ćuprija, from which it takes is name, was an ancient dwelling, and the hotel is a modern reconstruction of Stari Grad’s historic “Turkish houses” – residential buildings of stone and wood that defined the Old Bridge Area’s pre-war heritage. While the famous 15th century Stari Most bridge was destroyed in the 1990s war, the Crooked Bridge amazingly survived the conflict but succumbed to raging flooding in 2000 and was subsequently rebuilt.  

Reconstruction of Mostar began with funds from the European Union, the World Bank, and UNESCO shortly after a permanent ceasefire was established with the Washington Agreement on March 18, 1994, nineteen months before the cessation of the wider Bosnian conflict was resolved with the signing of the Dayton Peace Accords on November 1, 1995.

Old Town Mostar is beautifully atmospheric and while most of the buildings in the Stari Grad have been fully restored, several owners have chosen to leave the numerous bullet marks on the sides of their buildings as reminders of the wrath of war. Throughout the city there are still over 1,000 buildings in ruin or abandoned as a result of the conflict, with many of them concentrated across the river in east Mostar.

Cobblestone alleys twisted through Stari Grad and we followed them all to soak in the ambiance. Visiting the old town was a sensory experience: dazzling color, aromas of grilled meats, textures and the melancholic song of the call to prayer that the muezzin sings from the minarets dotted around the city.

Our wanderings took us over the high arched, Ottoman built Stari Most. The iconic symbol of Mostar was a vital lifeline used by soldiers and civilians to transport food, medicine, and arms to besieged areas of the city on the west bank Neretva River during the 1190s war. It’s a popular area where folks gather to hopefully watch divers jump from the bridge 28m (92ft) into the cold water below, a decades old tradition that started in 1968. None of the divers were working the crowd for tips when we crossed. Diving from the bridge has also existed for 450 years as a traditional rite of passage for young men, and as an old legend says, “the way a boy becomes a man in Mostar.”

Across the bridge the lane narrowed through the Kujundžiluk alley. Known as the old goldsmiths’ quarter, it served as a crucial trading alley for merchant caravans before they paid customs duties to cross the bridge during the Ottoman era. Our “walk a little then café’” philosophy took us to the restaurant Urban Taste of Orient. Their beautiful terrace offered spectacular views of the river and Stari Most. We were enjoying a charcuterie board of Bosnian cheeses and cured meats when I looked at the bridge and noticed a lone man, seemingly much taller than the rest of the folks, who from our perspective appeared to be standing on the bridge’s far wall, until he vanished. I almost screamed to Donna, “look, a diver jumped,” as his silhouette splashed into the river. We had just witnessed the first dive of the tourist season on this Labor Day holiday.

Afterwards we visited the early 17th century Koski Mehmed Pasha Mosque, where it’s possible to climb its 30m (98ft) tall minaret for panoramic views of Mostar and the river. We also viewed the wrenching exhibits at the Museum of War and Genocide Victims, the only such museum we visited while in Bosnia & Herzegovina. It gave us tragic eye-opening, first-person accounts of life in Mostar when it was under siege.

The next morning on an early morning walk before Mostar awakened, I came across one of the town’s tagged stray dogs, a large black sheep dog, semi-asleep on the bridge’s highest point. He struck me as the reincarnation of an ancient watchman guarding the entrance to Stari Grad. He opened his eyes, but did not move, having determined I was not a threat, and I passed quietly.

Beyond the old town we found Mostar to be a wonderful compact cosmopolitan city with cafes and large colorful street murals in some neighborhoods. The walk along Alekse Šantića Street, a former frontline in the war, to the Cernica neighborhood is full of mural paintings. It was an initiative in 2012 by Marina Mimoza, a prominent cultural activist and artist who sought to heal the wounds of war and promote reconciliation through art “transforming ruined, bullet-ridden buildings into a vibrant cultural hub, and open-air gallery.” Since its inception the event has grown into The Street Arts Festival Mostar which turns the city into a colorful canvas each summer for invited artists and performers, typically in June or July.

Several tourist attractions nearby beckoned to us. First Fortica Hill, on the east bank of the Neretva River where the Skywalk, a glass bridge, has been open since 2021. From its height there’s a commanding view of Mostar and an Instagram worthy “We Love Mostar” sculpture. Amazingly, there was no entrance fee for the Skywalk, and there’s a small restaurant with a great view from its terrace.

Within walking distance of the Skywalk were the late 19th century ruins of an Austro-Hungarian stone fortification that had sweeping views north to the mountains on both sides of the Neretva River Gorge.

Later that afternoon we headed fifteen minutes south of Mostar to the orthodox Žitomislić Monastery, dedicated to the Annunciation of Mary. The church on the site was constructed upon the ruins of an earlier house of worship in 1566 with the surrounding monastery buildings taking another forty years to complete. It was a major spiritual center in the 16th and 17th centuries, hosting a large library, a scriptorium, and beautiful iconostasis. At the height of its existence the monastery was supported by large land holdings that included vineyards and orchards worked by the monks themselves. During World War II the entire brotherhood of the Žitomislić monastery were killed by local fascist troops allied to the Axis Alliance, and the complex was severely damaged and looted. Rebuilt after World War II, the monastery was again burned, but the church was savagely destroyed with explosives, reducing it to rubble during the 1990s Bosnia War.  The original stones of the church were reused during its reconstruction in 2002 to recreate its earlier appearance, and it was reconsecrated in 2005.

We arrived to the monastery just as a tour bus finished disgorging its passengers. We dislike crowded sites, so we decided to explore the new monastery’s museum first, which had a small collection of ancient manuscripts, books, and liturgical objects, as well as a collection of some of the region’s oldest surviving icons. The works transcend several artistic styles from traditional Byzantine, featuring austere lines and dark color, to more graceful interpretations as Venetian and Baroque influences reached the Balkans. During exploration of the museum’s gift shop we discovered that the resident monks still make a traditional walnut liqueur  called Orahovača. It’s made by soaking green, unripe walnuts in plum brandy with honey, citrus and spices like cloves and cinnamon. It is usually enjoyed chilled as a digestif  after meals, or to treat stomach ailments. It was very tasty and we enjoyed the small bottle we purchased throughout the trip.

When the tour group departed, we entered the foyer of the church where a 200 liter, (50 gallon) stainless steel drum of what we assumed was holy water stood in the corner, available to fill your water bottles from. Entering the sanctuary revealed a stunningly beautiful space where every surface was covered in rich iconography.

A short drive away, but a long walk from the parking area was Blagaj Tekija, a historic Sufi Dervish monastery constructed in the early 16th century at the foot of soaring 240m (787ft) sheer rockface next to a karst cave. The cavern shelters a spring called the Vrelo Bune which is the source Buna River. It’s a dramatic setting. From its banks we watched visitors take small boats rowed by local men a short way into the mouth of the cave to see its large cavern.  Professional divers have explored the dark cold water of the spring to a depth of 150m (492ft), but the total depth of the spring remains unknown. We enjoyed a late afternoon dinner at one of restaurants along the river’s edge. It was a very tranquil setting with ducks lazily paddling about on the softly gurgling water as it glistened in the bright sun.

Heading back to Mostar we made one last stop at Objekt Buna in Gnojnice. It’s an unofficial tourist site where visitors are semi-discouraged by a decrepit incomplete fence to not enter this Cold War era secret aircraft bunker. Located across the main road from what is now the Mostar International Airport, the military bunker was constructed into the side of a small hill in 1969 to shelter up to twenty planes and helicopters from attack.  It was abandoned after the Bosnia War and is now a graffiti covered relic of the communism of Tito’s Yugoslavia. Outside the bunker the hillside was covered with wild poppies.

Mostar was especially enchanting in the evenings. Across from the small beach under the bridge where the boat rides launch from, we were surprised to see so many photographers lined up with their cameras mounted atop tripods placed, we hoped, firmly into the riverbed. Along with us, they were all intent on capturing the ultimate night picture of Stari Most as darkness fell. There were many previous attempts to build an arched stone bridge across the river, but all had failed, to the frustration of  Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent. In 1557 he commissioned Mimar Hayruddin, a former apprentice to Istanbul’s grand architect Mimar Sinan to build a single arch bridge, but legend says the Sultan threatened him with death if his design collapsed. Fearing the worst as completion of the bridge neared in 1566 the architect reportedly prepared his own funeral shroud, expecting to be killed when the scaffolding supporting the bridge was removed. But to everyone’s relief, the 29m (95 ft) span, the widest man-made stone arch bridge in the world at the time, held firm. A marvel of engineering, the original stone structure stood for over 450 years until it was destroyed during the 1990s Bosnia War.   

For our last day trip from Mostar we headed to Kravica Waterfall, but we rarely go directly to a destination, as there’s always other sites of interest along the roundabout routes we choose. Forty minutes south of Mostar we stopped at the Church of St. James in Medjugorje, a modest Bosnian town with about 4,000 people living in it. The catholic church was started in 1934, but its construction was interrupted by WW2, and religion was suppressed in Yugoslavia’s early communist years until authorities loosened their policies toward religious institution. The church was allowed to be completed and consecrated in 1969. But the quiet town suddenly rose to world-wide fame when six young people  claimed to have seen the Blessed Virgin Mary on June 24th, 1981 on Crnica hill. Subsequent apparitions appeared to the children in different locations around the small town, and eventually in the church. The Virgin Mary’s visitations, with her messages emphasize reconciling with God, reading scripture, and encouraging peace are said to have occurred daily since then. And Medjugorje has grown into the third most visited pilgrimage site in Europe, after Lourdes in France and Fatima in Portugal, receiving over 40 million pilgrims since 1981.

When we arrived an outdoor mass was in progress behind the church in a large park-like setting; thousands of pilgrims were seated along rows of permanent benches or stood nearby. Around the front of the church folks prayed before a statue of the Virgin, as another mass was underway in the sanctuary.

Continuing our journey we headed to the Fortress of Herzog Stjepan Vukčić Kosača. Set atop a towering hill, the medieval 15th century castle was an important stronghold of the Kingdom of Bosnia as the Ottoman Empire expanded across the region.  Kosača’s title “Herceg” (Duke), was also the name of his expansive domain which later became known as Herzegovina. Unfortunately, there was a large sporting event being held the day we visited, which would have required us to park at the bottom of the hill and walk to the summit. This would have taken too much time away from the rest of the day, so we contented ourselves with photos of the mighty stronghold from the foot of the hill.

The Trebižat River was full from runoff from recent heavy spring rains across the region and the Kravica Waterfall was the beautiful beneficiary. The spectacular bridal veil fall is 120m (394ft) wide with a cascade that drops 25m (82ft) into a crystal-clear turquoise basin. Local boatmen can be hired to row folks closer to the falls to hear the thunder of the water and get soaked in mist. A few swimmers were daring enough to brave the cold water.

There was plenty of parking near the park entrance and we opted for the ticket with the tourist train. This is especially helpful for folks like us with bad knees; the other alternative is a walk down many steep stairs, but be prepared for a vigorous climb up. Along the water edge there are three outdoor restaurants that are seasonally open. If pursuing waterfalls is your thing, another smaller cascade, Koćuša Waterfall, is 30 minutes away to the northwest.

The last stop of the day on the way back to Mostar was the ancient fortified stone village of Počitelj along the east bank of the Neretva River, that’s a tentative UNSECO site. Our descent into the town was down a narrow single-track lane, with occasional pullover spots in case you encountered any oncoming cars. At its bottom was a small plaza with a few restaurants and a tourist shop, from which the village spread dramatically up a steep hill. Founded in 1383 by Bosnia’s King Tvrtko I, the village was also a strategic stronghold and administrative center of the Ottoman Empire for 400 hundred years after its conquest in 1471, having a large mosque, hammam, madrasa, and a clock tower to reflect its importance as a governmental seat.

We entered the old town through an arched gateway. Under an ancient watch tower we spotted the largest fig tree we had ever seen, growing spectacularly from between stones of tower’s wall. If the tree ever fell, we were sure the tower would also collapse. Though there were several other tourists about, and signs that some of the old dwellings had been gentrified as vacation homes, the village felt as if it had been forgotten in time and abandoned; the aftermath of the 1990s Bosnia War.

Reaching Pašina tabija, a restored tower along the upper defensive wall, we were rewarded with a fantastic panorama of the village and the Neretva. Renovation to the tower included a glass walkway along the ramparts and a large deck to be used as a venue to host summer sunset concerts. Our late afternoon visit to Počitelj was the perfect way to end our time in Bosnia & Herzegovina, a destination we founded to be very charming and intriguing.

The next morning as we departed Mostar I promised that we would drive straight to Split, Croatia. “We’ll only stop for coffee, right?” “Yes, unless the steering wheel guides me like a Ouija board to some interesting locations.” I winked.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

A Balkans Road Trip Part 7: Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina – Beautiful and Resilient

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Traveling south from Zagreb on the E70 we headed to the Gradiška border crossing into Bosnia and Herzegovina. With the European Union’s open border policy there is a seamless transition driving from one country to the next, but until Bosnia & Herzegovina acquires full EU membership, which is expected to happen by 2030, the old fashioned ‘show your papers,’ is required. With two loud thumps our passports were marked with a Croatia Exit stamp and returned to us along with the vehicle registration, and the insurance “Green Card,” from the rental agency allowing us to take the car into a non-EU country. Crossing the Sara River, we repeated the formalities with the border guards and received our Bosnia and Herzegovina entry stamps. We are rather fond of passport stamps considering most countries now rely on electronic records and don’t stamp at all.

We had an extra early start from Zagreb that morning, as the drive on the toll road to Saravejo takes about six hours, but we wanted to take a longer route through the countryside first to see several sites. And still hoped to make it to the “City of Spirit and Hope” before nightfall.

Small villages and farmland surrounded us quickly as we left the congestion of the border crossing behind. Our route the M16/E661 beyond Banja Luka hugged the narrow road beneath a steep cliff that paralleled the Vrbas River. Fields and rolling hills on the other side of the river were fresh with spring greenery. It wasn’t until we reached the Vrbas River Mountain View that the road widened enough to stop for a scenic overview. On the map this looks like an official overlook, but in reality, it’s a small, rough unpaved section of widened shoulder without a guardrail. You can’t actually see the river from the road at this point, but we drove past and did a U-turn so we could pull into it safely. Walking as close to the edge as we dared revealed a spectacular panorama of a horseshoe shape bend in the river.

Turning, we rose into the mountains and reached Mrkonjić Grad, a fairly good size town in this semi-rural area, and stopped for a moment at Храм Светог Саве Мркоњић град, the orthodox Temple of Saint Sava. Construction of this stunning gold domed church started in the mid-1930s, but was interrupted by World War Two, communist rule, and the Balkans war in the 1990s. Post-war reconstruction efforts finished the church in the early 2000s.

Luckily our timing was perfect as a large tour bus was just pulling away from Mlinčići, a collection of historic windowless wooden watermills, on the rapids below lake Plivsko Jezero. They date from the 16th century Ottoman Empire during which they were communally owned by extended family clans for their personal use, though they were occasionally rented out to other farmers for the payment of a ‘grain tax.’  With industrialization they fell into disuse and were abandoned, almost lost to history, until they were declared a national monument, and restored in 2009.

Earlier, as we drove to the Mlinčići we passed the lakefront restaurant Plaža, which looked like a perfect place for lunch. It was surprisingly busy for a Monday, but for many folks it was a vacation week between the Catholic and Orthodox celebrations of Easter. It was a pleasantly sunny day and warm enough to dine outside on the restaurant’s patio. Afterwards we strolled along the lake’s promenade where rental boats remained firmly tied to the dock, awaiting the tourist high season to begin later in the spring. Onward we stopped at Most Jubavi, the town of Jajce’s bridge of love, built across the top of a wide waterfall. It’s a beautiful setting with the boardwalk curving through a lush landscape of trees and rushing water.

The water from Plivsko Jezero flows downstream to Jajce, where it cascades thunderously 22m (72ft) from the 50m (164ft) wide Plivski Waterfall, at the confluence of the Pliva and Vrbas rivers. On the hill above the falls was the town’s citadel. It was constructed in the 14th century when Jajce was the capital of the Bosnian Kingdom. The fortress fell to the Ottomans in 1463, but was retaken by Hungarian King Matthias Corvinus in the following year. Jajce famously resisted for another 63 years before becoming the last town in Bosnia to fall to the Ottoman Empire 1527. 

Golden light warmed the late afternoon view of Sarajevo from our room at Kibe Mahala as shadows lengthened with the setting sun. It is primarily known for its well-regarded restaurant that features a selection of Bosnian dishes and lamb roasted on a spit, but it is also a smartly designed three-room boutique hotel with a modern aesthetic appeal that reflects Sarajevo’s culture. Free parking was a tremendous bonus, but because the hillside roads above the city were so narrow we relied on the expertise of taxi drivers to slalom us downhill to Baščaršijski trg, the historic heart of old Sarajevo.

Baščaršijski trg is a long narrow V shaped plaza, once the old daily market. At its center was a Sebilj fountain, a wooden kiosk covered well, where during the country’s Ottoman era was manned by Sebiljdžija, workers who received wages from the Voivode, mayor, to dispense free water to thirsty passersby.

Today Baščaršijski trg is lined with cafés and tourist shops, but still retains an exotic aura of east meets west, the merging of cultures, like Istanbul. The square was quite busy when we arrived, and we sat outside at a café, only to learn they served nothing but coffee or tea. The owner pointed to the bakery across the street and told us it would be okay to bring our purchase back and enjoy it at their table. We both crossed to the Bakehouse Edin, as the responsibility of choosing tasty delights for the first time in a new country is too much to bear for one individual. Really, we both can’t resist bakeries, and take every opportunity we get to investigate one. Hence, “our walk a little then café” philosophy. The café owner was delighted to see us when we returned.

It was a leisurely morning, and we enjoyed watching life go by on the square. Across the way families fed a large flock of pigeons and posed enthusiastically with the birds fluttering to perch on their arms and heads. Occasionally, something would spook the flock, and they would rise in unison to circle above the minaret of Baščaršijska Mosque, prompting some folks to cover their heads in anticipation of a bird bombing, though we didn’t hear any screeching to indicate disaster had struck.

Romans, Goths and finally the Slavs with the establishment of the Kingdom of Bosnia in the 7th century have influenced the region, but it wasn’t until 1415 that Sarajevo is first mentioned in historical records as Vrhbosna. It was only later in that century after the Turks conquered the region that the town’s name was changed to Sarajevo and it grew into an important trading center on the caravan route from Istanbul to the Adriatic coast. The town hosted numerous caravanserais, inns where merchants slept and stabled their horses, but only the Morića han (1551) survives and now shelters shop, restaurants and Caffe Divan.  Here we enjoyed the Ottoman-style ambiance and the tradition of ćejf, the art of lingering over coffee to savor life with friends, and the Rahat Lokum, Turkish Delight, which is always eaten before sipping Bosnian coffee. We also tried Ziam’s coffee, a large coffee with milk that is sprinkled with Nesquik, which is a popular order.

Many of the old lanes in the city are named for craftsmen who practiced their skills in workshops along the street. Just off Baščaršijski trg was Kazandžviluk, the old coppersmiths’ alley, where fine Bosnian džezva, traditional long handle coffee pots, cups and plates are still hammered with intricate designs.

The pedestrian only historic old town is made for wandering, one intriguing lane opening to another. Sarači seemed to be Sarajevo’s main lane and we followed it along to the shady courtyard of Gazi Husrev-beg, a 16th century mosque. In the center of the courtyard was the Šadrvan, a marble washing fountain used by worshippers for ritual ablutions before prayer. It was covered with an elaborate wooden octagonal pergola. In the background beyond the mosque’s wall was Sarjevo’s 17th century clock tower. It features gilded clock faces, on all four sides, synchronized to lunar time, in which the hands indicate 12 o’clock at the moment of sunset, the time of the Muslim Maghrib prayer.

This was a very interesting part of the old town, with many significant historical sites close to each other which include; Gazi Husrev-Beg’s Library (1537), the 16th century barrel-vaulted grand bazaar, the ancient Mezarje u haremu džamije Ferhadija cemetery & mosque, the Morića han caravanserais, the 1860s Serbian Orthodox Church of the Nativity of the Theotokos, the Museum of the Jews of Bosnia and Herzegovina, the Srebrenica Genocide Memorial, and Katedrala Srca Isusova, the Sacred Heart Cathedral, a 19th-century Gothic-style church which Pope John Paul II visited in 1997, to promote reconciliation after the Bosnian War.

During the Ottoman rule of Bosnia, Sarajevo attracted a diverse community of Orthodox Christians, Catholics and Jews. They were, however, treated as second class citizens and faced social restrictions forbidding them from carrying weapons, riding horses in public, or building houses and churches taller than those of Muslims. Men were additional required to pay theJizyataxin lieu of military service. Only Christian families were subjected to the Devshirme, a “Blood Tax,” where children were taken from their families, forcibly converted to Islam, and trained to become elite Janissaries, soldiers, or high-ranking government officials. These additional burdens to families encouraged many to convert to Islam.

Passing through the old bazaar, we admired some of the work of the silversmiths. This trade  has been thriving since the Middle Ages in Bosnia when silver mines were a major source of income for Bosnian kings. A piece of fine filigree jewelry made the perfect souvenir.

We crossed the Miljacka River and walked along the shaded riverside promenade to a café at the Music Pavilion in At Mejdan park, which dates from 1913. The park was a quiet oasis where families strolled with children, couples relaxed in each other’s arms and pensioners played chess at tables under the trees. Views back across the river showcased a blend of the city’s architecture that spanned the centuries from the Ottoman era to modern times, though the most predominant are the ones constructed in the 19thcentury European style during the Austro-Hungarian era.

From the promenade we could also see the Latin Bridge, the site where Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated on June 28, 1914, by Gavrilo Princip, a member of the revolutionary group Young Bosnia, whose members were mostly Serbs, Croats, and Bosniak students who sought to end Austro-Hungarian rule and unite Bosnia with Serbia and Yugoslavia. The event triggered World War I, the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the creation of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, which included Serbia, Bosnia, Croatia, Montenegro, Slovenia and North Macedonia. While Sarajevo was part of Yugoslavia, Gavrilo Princip was celebrated as a hero and the Latin Bridge was renamed in his honor. With Bosnia’s independence the bridge has regained its original name.

Subsequently, the origins of nearly a hundred years of almost continuous wars, occupations and suppression across Europe, can be traced back to this event. The region’s death and destruction finally ended after the Balkan Wars were resolved with the signing of the Dayton Accords in 1995, an agreement which established a complex government with equal representation for Bosniaks, Serbs, and Croats in Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Farther along the riverside was Sarajevo’s City Hall, a late 19th century Moorish Revival style building with ornate geometric patterns and horseshoe arches. It was built during the Austro-Hungarian era to reflect Sarajevo’s importance as a cultural crossroads in the Balkans.

Later back in our hotel room we could hear the evening prayer, as the muezzin called from the city’s minarets, and it echoed across the valley. There is believed to be close to 100 mosques across Sarajevo, and from our hillside location we were amazed by the number of minarets we could see dotting the surrounding landscape.

The next morning we decided to drive up Mt. Trebević, 1,629m (5,345ft) which we could see from our hotel room, to visit the site of 1984 Winter Olympic Game’s luge and bobsleigh competitions. It was an exciting event and the first time a Communist Bloc country hosted the Winter Olympics, which Donna and I remember watching on TV (that seriously dates us). Exciting not just for the tremendous speed of the sledders, but also for the background color commentary about a part of the world behind the “Iron Curtain,” that had mosques and minarets that we associated with deserts of Arabia, not snow-covered mountains. It was a part of the world unknown to us at the time, and it looked enthralling. Sadly, this location and the other mountaintop Olympic venues around Sarajevo were seized by Bosnian Serb forces during the 1990s war and used as artillery positions to bombard Sarajevo during the Serbs’ four-year siege of the city.

First, we had hoped to see an old 16th century Ottoman era high-arched stone span across the Miljacka River on the outskirts of the city, but the traffic in that direction came to a total standstill, and folks were turning around to find alternative routes. We decided to do the same and followed our Maps app’s directions up the steep mountainside along roads that twisted through small neighborhoods where round traffic mirrors were mounted on the side of homes to see oncoming cars around blind corners. The road continued to narrow and steepen to the point that we thought if we ever had to stop, we’d never get going uphill again, until the grade lessened and we passed the last house to drive through the forested hillside.

We stopped halfway up the mountainside to check out two battle-scarred buildings in a lush green meadow and happened upon a family of four having a picnic. The kids sprawled on the blanket, intent upon their electronic gamepads, while their mom set everything in order and their dad grilled in the shadow of one of the war-torn buildings. Everyone waved as we walked by. A few minutes later as we were walking in the lower part of the field the woman called to us as she crested the hillside, and she happily handed us a large Ćevapi, – small, skinless, charcoal grilled minced meat sausages, stuffed into a large Somun, a soft bread similar to pita, and garnished with finely chopped raw onions, ajvar (roasted red pepper sauce) or kajmak (a clotted cream spread). It’s the national dish of Bosnia and a specialty in Sarajevo. Though we didn’t share a common language multiple thank-yous were said and smiles shared all around. Her Ćevapi was so good! Coincidentally, only the day before we had promised ourselves we would have to taste one of those wonderful local dishes. The reason – the enticing aroma of grilled meats wafting from Ćevabdžinica Petica Ferhatović, considered to be the best Ćevabdžinica in Sarajevo, as we walked along Bravadžiluk.  It caused us to pause and check out what everyone was enjoying. If we hadn’t eaten a half hour earlier, we would have stopped, and we told ourselves we’d have to definitely try Ćevapi later.

Covered with bullet holes and graffiti, the bobsleigh tracks, former symbols of international goodwill, are now grisly reminders of the brutal conflict that killed 11,000 people living in Sarajevo during the four-year siege of the city.

We continued on to the summit terminal of the Mt. Trebević ski lift where there were some spectacular views. The ski lift operates year-round and its lower terminal, Sarajevska žičara, is only a 9-minute walk from Sarajevo’s City Hall.

Later we had lunch atop the mountain at Hotel Pino, an attractive contemporarily designed 22 room lodging set in a forest clearing, before heading back down into Sarajevo to the Yellow Fortress, an Ottoman era cannon embattlement on Jekovac hill.

The panoramic views out over Sarajevo were beautiful in the late afternoon light and encompassed six centuries of the city’s history, from its earliest mosques on Baščaršija square to its modern skyline growing on the western horizon. A small café atop the roundel encouraged us to linger as we attempted to count the number of minarets scattered across the valley and hillsides and waited for the sun to set.

We thoroughly enjoyed visiting this resilient exotic city where everyone we encountered was so nice to us. We highly recommend visiting Sarajevo, as it is an engaging and very budget-friendly destination.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

P.S. There are more than 20 museums in Sarajevo, with over 12 of them acknowledging the suffering which occurred during the Bosnia War. A few of them are: the Siege of Sarajevo Museum, Sarajevo Tunnel of Hope (Tunel Spasa), Museum of Crimes Against Humanity and Genocide, War Childhood Museum, and Galerija 11/07/95, a gallery-museum dedicated to the victims of the Srebrenica genocide.

A Balkans Road Trip Part 5: Slovenia – Into the Kamnik-Savinja Alps to the Logar Valley

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Days earlier, atop the ramparts at Ljubljana Castle, we got our first glimpse of the Kamnik-Savinja Alps, a rugged sawtooth mountain chain that lies north of the city, along the Slovenia – Austrian border in the Solčava region. The range’s three highest peaks, Mt. Grintovec (2,532m), Mt. Jezerska Kočna (2,539m), and Mt. Skuta, (8,307m) still glimmered with snow in early April.

Within the mountain range is Logar Valley, a 7 kilometer (4.3 mile) long alpine glacial valley, surrounded by equally tall sheer summits. Inside the picturesque valley there are trails between Rinka Waterfall (90m – 295ft), the tallest falls in Slovenia, and three other ones that cascade from the mountainsides. It is 1.5 hours from Ljubljana, and we planned to visit the valley during a travel day. Later, backtracking from the mountains, we stayed in Kamnik for two nights before continuing on to Zagreb.

Along our route into the mountains, we stopped to visit the Volčji Potok Arboretum, a large formal garden, only 30 minutes from the city. The park’s tulips beds were in full bloom, and we were just about to purchase our entrance tickets when we were caught in a sudden downpour. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like the weather was going to improve quickly. Crossing our fingers, we hoped the mountains would be storm free, and we continued on.

Past Kamnik, the road slowly rose from the plain into the foothills as it followed the Kamniška Bistrica river, swollen with snow melt. The fresh greenery of spring covered the hillsides. Fruit trees flowered in roadside orchards. Twisting and turning along switchback roads, we drove higher, only to descend into small valleys sheltering tiny hamlets with only a handful of homes and always a church, before ascending again.  

A sign pointed the way to Velika Planina, a vast alpine plateau in Slovenia’s Kamnik-Savinja Alps, where traditional transhumance herders  continue to graze cattle and sheep seasonally on the high-elevation pastureland from June to September. In planning our trip to Logar, we had considered going to Velika Planina, but to do it justice required a longer visit to the area. It’s one of the dilemmas of planning a trip: what to include, what to pass, what’s research for the future or a simply a teaser, needing a sequel to complete your odyssey.

Eventually the road leveled and followed the Savinja River as it coursed through a narrow gorge, where in certain sections rock ledges loomed ominously low over the road, and we wondered if any campervans had ever lost their roofs along the way.

Signs pointed to the Austrian border, but we turned and sharply climbed to Razgledna Točka pri Klemenči Domačiji, the Lookout Point at the Klemenča Homestead, our destination before entering the valley below. The vantage point overlooking the working farm and mountains is 1,208 meters (3,963 feet) above sea level and is along the Solčava Panoramic Road, a 37km (23mi) scenic route that weaves through spectacular alpine views and past tracs that lead to self-sustaining high mountain farms. The view over the valley surrounded by multiple 2300m (7500ft) mountains, their peaks still hidden by clouds, was stunning.

Like an old-fashioned trading post, the last chance for supplies at the edge of the frontier, was its modern equivalent, a vending machine with dried sausages, cheese rounds, and sandwiches made at the Klemenča Homestead.

Next to it was a whimsical statue of Lintver, a Slovenian folklore dragon associated with the Logar Valley and the Solčava region. Centuries-old legends tell of his role in shaping the area’s valleys and landmarks. Nowadays in Slovenia, the dragon symbolizes the powerful and beautiful forces of nature.

We coasted slowly through the beautiful wide grassy valley to its terminus, the trailhead for the Rinka Waterfall. Though it was only a twenty-minute trek from the parking area, we passed on the opportunity and had a late lunch at Penzion Kmečka Hiša Ojstrica. Their  outside deck was open, and we enjoyed a tasty meal while warming in the afternoon sun, if only for a brief moment, before heading to Kamnik for the night. Really, exploring the area in depth requires several days, especially if you want to do any hiking. The park’s website is a good resource for accommodation in the valley and surrounding area.  

It was pouring again as we reached Kamnik. Totally unprepared for this deluge, we parked as close to the entrance of Guest House Pri Cesarju as we could. Kindly, the proprietor of the hotel and pizzeria where we were staying ran to assist us with umbrellas as we unloaded our luggage. After a chilly day, it was nice to relax in the comfortably warm restaurant with a glass of local red wine and delicious pizza. The weather the next morning was perfect with a sunny blue sky. A nice change from the cloudy weather pattern that had been over the area for several days.

We drove to Kaminska Pekarna, a hidden gem of a bakery and confectionery, on the side of town nearer Ljubljana. We had discovered it the day before while seeking to satisfy our “drive a little then café’, caffeine cravings. It’s a very simple shop, with only a dozen tables inside, and few outside, under the building’s overhang for the smokers, but it was very busy with local folk, and their sweet and savory pastries were scrumptious. Over our two days in Kamnik we stopped there three times. It was that good, and extremely budget friendly. Parking near the old town is very limited, but it was the shoulder season, and we thought we found a good centrally located spot down a quiet side street. More on that later.

Kamnik is a historic town, one of Slovenia’s earliest, first mentioned in historical records in 1061. By the early 13th century, it had grown into a bustling crafts and market center on the trade route between Hungary and the Adriatic, and it was granted formal town status.

For a time, its importance in Slovenia rivaled that of Ljubljana’s and the town boasted two castles, minted its own coins and was granted a Franciscan monastery, which is still in use. Now in ruins, Stari grad, the old castle, commanded the tall hill across the Kamniška Bistrica river from the village. The tongue of a modern cantilevered viewing deck at the site can been seen from town, but the site was not open in early April when we visited Kamnik. In the center of town Mali grad, the little castle, stands on a small knoll that overlooks what would have been the main routes through the medieval town.

Though this castle was also closed, the path to it led through a nice, shaded park and offered several great views of the red-roofed town with the beautiful Kamnik-Savinja Alps in the distance. A teenage girl, playing hooky from school and enjoying the tranquility of the location, lounged on the castle’s steps, absorbed by her reading.

The warm sunny day called for a gelato, and we stopped at a small café’ with outdoor tables, at the top of Šutna Street. Once the town’s main thoroughfare, it is now a colorful pedestrian lane lined with an assortment of well-preserved homes and guild buildings, dating as far back as the 14th century.

Along the way was the Immaculate Conception Parish Church, a Gothic structure with later Baroque additions, notable for its freestanding bell tower.

At the bottom of the Šutna treet was a life-size silhouetted profile of a distinguished man. The commemorative inscription next to it told the story of Rudolf Maister, a nationalist hero, who was born in a house on this street in 1874. Choosing a military career, he rose to the rank of Major in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, in which Slovenia was a province at the time, while serving on the front near Graz, Austria. At the end of World War One, when the “Great Powers” were redrawing the maps of Europe, on his own initiative he disobeyed orders to turn the town over to German-Austria troops. Rallying 4000 loyal Slovene troops to support him he secured Styria, the region south of Graz to be Slovenia’s northern border and part of the newly formed State of Slovenes, Croats and Serbs, which united with the Kingdom of Serbia into the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, which eventually became Yugoslavia. He was an interesting individual who was also recognized for writing two volumes of poetry and starting a military orchestra.

A short distance away in a plaza across from the bus station was Kip Mamuta, a life size bronze sculpture of a woolly mammoth. It commemorates the 1938 discovery of a nearly complete mammoth skeleton, unearthed by workers expanding a bridge, in nearby Nevlje. The site upon further archaeological excavation was determined to be a Paleolithic hunting settlement dated to be around 20,000 years old. The skeleton is on exhibit in the Natural History Museum of Slovenia in Ljubljana. Returning to the car hours later, we realized we had parked down a restricted residential road, which just happened to have its gate up when we drove through earlier that day. Now the automated gate was closed and we were trapped. Waiting patiently until a local resident exited, we followed close behind. Kamnik is a charming small town which we had mostly to ourselves in early April, and we found it very easy to explore fully in a single day. Every September the town hosts the Days of National Costumes and Clothing Heritage, Slovenia’s largest ethnological festival, featuring a grand parade, historical costumes, reenactments, traditional music, dance, regional crafts, and local food.

Finicky weather resumed the next morning as we headed to Cistercijanska Opatija Stična, the Cistercian Abbey of Stična, a 12th century walled monastery along the A2 which we were following to Zagreb, Croatia. It is Slovenia’s oldest operating monastery, though only 14 monks remain, a vast difference from the hundreds that lived there during the Middle Ages and supported the abbey’s vast land holdings and 300 churches in the region. The Cistercian Order is an offshoot of the Benedictine Order, that follows a return to a stricter, simpler monastic life based upon a self-sufficient agrarian orientation, emphasizing austerity, manual labor, solitude, and a balance of prayer and work. During the early years of the monastery, it acted like an agricultural college, where the hard-working monks shared their advanced ideas of crop rotation, irrigation systems, better iron ploughs, selective breeding, and new crop varieties. “They revolutionized the local agriculture,” and contributed to the prosperity of the area by not requiring the local peasants on their granges to pay the annual tithe.

The order’s influence grew with time and the monastery evolved to support a traditional school as well as a music school, herbal pharmacy, and a library where manuscripts were copied. The Stiški Rokopisi, Stična Manuscripts, a famous series of illuminated medieval manuscripts, were written in the mid-1400s by the abbey’s monks, not in Latin as was the tradition, but in the Slovenian language, one of the first such books of the time.  

During the Middle Ages the monastery was located on the Slovenia frontier, an area that separated the Christian northern Balkans from the Ottoman Empire. Turkish raids in the area were a common occurrence, and even though the abbey was enclosed within a defensive wall it suffered severe damage during attacks in 1475 and 1529. The abbey continued to prosper until 1784 when Joseph II, the Holy Roman Emperor and ruler of the Habsburg Monarchy, confiscated the lands of monasteries in his realm, and forced monks and nuns into “useful” state-approved roles. The abbey was returned to the Cistercian Order 1898.

According to the abbey’s records there has been an herbal pharmacy in the monastery since the 15th century, which gathered and used the region’s 400 medicinal plants. This tradition was revived again after 1898 and grew in importance under the direction of Father Simon Ašič (1906-1992). The pharmacy was especially useful during World War II, when many sick refugees sought help from Father Simon. Because of the war, medicines were in short supply, but he was able to help many people with his herbal preparations. Always recording the recipes and results, he published his knowledge in three books. The abbey honored his legacy in 1992 with the founding of SITIK, an herbal products company that sells items prepared according to the original recipes of Father Ašič.

We visitied the abbey’s church, the Our Lady of Sorrows Basilica, once one of the largest in Slovenia. The sanctuary and its cloister were very interesting to explore. Something that we never noticed before in a church was that the confessionals all had small red and green lights on them to indicate which ones were in use.

Regrettably, we missed the tour of the herbal pharmacy, but we did get a small brochure, with some of Father Ašič’s herbal recipes.

Zagreb beckoned. On we went.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

P.S. Each year in the fall, the village of Stična hosts an arts festival known as Festival Stična. 

A Balkans Road Trip Part 4: Slovenia – A Day Trip from Ljubljana to Lake Bled

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Enchanting photographs of Lake Bled and the Church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary on its island pulled us into the countryside like a magnet, its attraction drawing us away from Ljubljana to visit the iconic pilgrimage site that’s become a symbol of the natural beauty that awaits visitors to Slovenia.

Via the E61 toll road from Ljubljana, Lake Bled is an easy and quick day trip from Ljubljana, but we chose a route through the foothills of the Julian Alps, an immense area that stretches to the northwest from Skofja, a charming town with medieval roots.

Škofja Loka, the “Bishop’s Meadow,” was founded on the hillside above the confluence of Selška and Poljanska Sora rivers, by a 973 AD land grant to the Bishops of Freising from the German king and Holy Roman emperor, Otto II. By the mid-1200s it was busy walled market town with Skofja Loka Castle towering over it.

The town has persisted through a turbulent history; having survived a devasting 1511 earthquake, and after fires in 1690 and 1698, it rose from its destruction like a phoenix. The picture image of the town today stems from this last rebuilding and the removal of town’s ramparts in 1768.

In Selška Sora’s new town we had coffee at the Art Café and sat outside on its porch, even though it was a chilly day, to enjoy the ambience of the town. Across the street from the cafe was a small memorial park Aleja zasluženih, the Alley of the Deserving. It featured a row of unique artistic busts portraying influential notable people of the area.

Driving across the countryside, every hilltop we saw seemed to be crowned with a small church, which is not surprising considering Slovenia has nearly 2,900 of them. Twenty-four-hundred of them are still actively used, but many of the older churches in rural areas have congregations of fewer than fifty, some even smaller than twenty. With fewer priests nowadays Sunday services are rotated between communities. Our backroads route from Selška Sora to Lake Bled through the area’s foothills was designed to see several of these old chapels in the countryside.

Steep switchback roads climbed into forests which opened to rippling pasturelands as far as the eye could see in the tiny hamlet of Jamnik., on a ridge before a backdrop of the distant Karavanke Mountain range, was the Church of St. Primož and Felicijan which stands quietly as if in reverence, placed upon a ridge; the distant Karavanke mountains, a massive range that forms a natural boundary between Slovenia and Austria, create a backdrop for this lovely church.

It’s a beautiful setting on the Jelovica Plateau which local folk refer to as the “Balcony above Gorenjska,” the name of the surrounding region. First mentioned in the 15th century, the church was named for Saints Primus and Felician, two brothers and early Christian converts who were martyred by beheading in Rome by the decree ofEmperor Diocletianaround 286 AD. It is said that the church holds their relics and has become a pilgrimage site, and in “Slovenian folklore and religious tradition, these saints are often viewed as “guardians” of the landscape. Their hilltop sanctuary serving as a beacon during turbulent times, including the Turkish invasions, reinforcing their role as symbols of Slovenian faith and cultural identity against external threats.”

Regrettably, beauty doesn’t exclude tragedy and several clandestine mass graves from the end of World War II are located near Skofja Loka. They were the work of Josip Tito’s communist partisans who targeted groups due to their ethnicity, or were members of the Slovene Home Guard, an anti-communists force, civilians marked as “class enemies,”[or victims of political purges. Sadly, across Slovenia, 750 of these secret burial sites, concealed by various communist regimes from 1945 to 1990, have been located by the Commission on Concealed Mass Graves in Slovenia, since the country’s 1991 independence.

The road crested and then began a long twisting descent to Kropa, a picturesque village nestled at the head of a lush green valley. During the Medieval Era the village was a prosperous center for the hand forging of nails, which were sold all across Europe. Every July the village hosts an Iron Forging Festival, where folks can watch blacksmiths demonstrate their ancient crafts.

Driving down the hill through the center of Bled, the Church of the Mother of God on the Lake appears perfectly placed in the center of a waterscape surrounded by the foothills of the Julian Alps. Even though we’ve seen thousands of pictures of this iconic setting over the years, nothing replaces the appreciation of this glorious location better than standing on the shoreline and gazing across the glacial waters for ourselves. The scene was visually stunning.

We drove to the far side of the lake where there was a paid parking lot near two restaurants on the lakefront. Then walked back along the road and a section of boardwalk to a panoramic viewpoint. Licensed oarsmen, called pletnars, stood on the stern of their traditional flat-bottomed wooden boats and rowed their passengers, with twin oars, gondola style across the lake to the island. Bled Castle commanded a cliff face on the horizon. A 6 km (3.75 mi) road circles the lakefront, and past where we parked is seasonally closed to allow folks to walk along this narrower section and enjoy the scenery without having to be concerned about cars.

There are many beautiful landscapes around the world – the luck of nature perhaps, or are they perhaps the hand of divine intervention? Which leads me to wonder, when the first pagan temple was constructed on the island in Lake Bled, did the builders appreciate the beauty of the setting, or was the hard-to-reach setting chosen to create a symbol of faith that required effort to reach, reflecting devotion and commitment? Archeological evidence suggests that the island first hosted pagan rituals during the Bronze Age. Later with Slavic migration into the area during the 7th century AD, a temple dedicated to Ziva, the pagan goddess of life and fertility, was established. During the 8th century the local population converted to Christianity and built the island’s first church dedicated to the birth of Mary atop the ruins of the pagan temple. Renovations to the original church followed in the 15th and 17th centuries, when its famous “wishing bell tower,” and staircase was built. Today, the island remains a symbol of fertility and love; it is a popular wedding spot where grooms traditionally carry their brides up the 99 stone steps to the church for good luck.

After walking along the lake we drove to Caffe Peglez’n, where we were lucky to find metered parking nearby. We chose this café for lunch specifically to try its Blejska kremšnita, Bled cream cake, which combines delicious layers of custard and whipped cream between a crisp crust dusted with powdered sugar.  Theirs is reputed to be the best in Slovenia. We were not disappointed.

Afterwards we finished our day trip at Bled Castle, Slovenia’s oldest fortress, built in 1011. Located high on a rocky promontory, it has a commanding view of the lake from its terrace, and an interesting museum that highlights Slovenia’s history and culture.

Here is an island circled round by waves,
In our days it's a pilgrim shrine to Mary;
Against the background stand the snowcapped giants
And fields that spread before them;
Castle Bled Reveals still greater beauties to the left.
The hillocks on the right conceal each other.
Carniola does not have a prettier scene
Than this one: it is truly heaven's twin

A verse from Slovenia’s famous poet France Prešeren’s epic 1836 poem, The Baptism on the Savica.

Lake Bled was a phenomenal destination, and in hindsight I wished we had spent 2 nights there to fully experience the mood of the lake as the light changed throughout the day.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

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

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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

Zadar: The First Stop on Our Balkans Road Trip Through Croatia, Slovenia, & Bosnia and Herzegovina

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Peering down at the shimmering cobalt and turquoise blue water of the Adriatic Sea relieved the previous day’s anxiety of nearly missed connections. We encountered a long delay at passport control in Paris, before catching our connecting early morning flight to Zadar.

This temporary reprieve was short lived though, as we were confronted with a shuttered rental car window at the Sicily By Car booth, directly across from the small Zadar terminal. It was a Sunday morning – maybe the service at church ran long, or the coffee and pastries at the café were particularly delicious; nevertheless, the other passengers on our early morning flight who had rented with other agencies were long gone. At the terminal’s outdoor café we sipped coffee, waited, and discussed whether or not to cancel our existing reservation.  An hour passed before a car parked behind the booth, and the shuttered window was noisily cranked open. A pleasant young woman greeted us, and the morning’s delay was forgotten. Years ago, we began the habit of asking attendants at the rental car counters for suggestions to non-touristy places to eat. It appears it’s an unusual request from a customer, but folks seem pleased that we sincerely ask for their opinion. “Let me think on that, and by the time paperwork is done and I show you the car, my colleague and I will have some ideas for you.” With the names of three restaurants and a patisserie, “you should definitely try,” we headed off to see waterfalls at Skradinski Buk National Park in a nearly new small SUV, an upgrade from what we had reserved. The park was our first stop on our three-week long Croatian road trip, before our late afternoon check-in at an apartment rental in old town Zadar later.

The sunny April morning was now overcast as we drove into the small village of Benković to see its hilltop castle, and indulge our “drive a little, then café,” philosophy. Unfortunately, the castle was closed and the town seemed deserted in the pre-tourist season. Down the lane from the castle fig trees were setting their fruit and the first flowers of Spring were blooming. The café remained an unfulfilled desire.

We love traveling during the shoulder seasons to avoid the crowds of summer. But one of the drawbacks is fewer, if any, restaurants/cafes are open, especially in the more rural areas.

The drive to the park along Rt56 was semi-desolate, but pretty in an austere way, and passed through Croatia’s garigue shrublands, olive groves, and pine forests. From the road as we drove past Skradin, we could see large charter yachts at their winter moorings on the Krka River, two miles from the sea, sheltering there from fierce Adriatic storms, as they waited for the warmer cruising season to start.  Across the river the road zigged and zagged up the mountainside before leveling off on a high plateau.

Following the signs to the national park we drove down a side road which passed a sprawling abandoned factory site, fronted with several concrete military bunkers. They were relics from the Cold War era like the ones that dot the landscape in Albania. Built in the 1930s, the IVANAL d.o.o. plant was the Balkans region’s first state-of-the-art aluminum processing complex that employed 400 people. It was confiscated by Czechoslovakia’s communist regime in the 1940’s and never upgraded or maintained. Over the decades production fell until the plant was closed after Croatia’s independence in 1991.

The parking lot at the national park was very full, considering it was a chilly Spring Sunday, but the queue at the ticket booth moved quickly. While the falls are quite a distance downhill from the entrance to the park, some folks chose to walk a route through the forest to forage for the wild asparagus that sprouts along its path from March to May.

We opted for a ticket that included a shuttle bus ride to the largest waterfall, Skradinski Buk, at the bottom of a series of equally impressive waterfalls on the Krka River, then a walk back upstream along the waterway to another shuttlebus stop for a return ride to the top of the park entrance plateau. During the summer months the national park also offers a scenic twenty-minute boat ride from the harbor in Skradin,to the base of Skradinski Buk.

The overcast day was actually the perfect weather condition to photograph the waterfalls without heavy shadows or bright highlights, and the falls were thundering, foaming with the snowmelt from the Dinaric Alps, which run through the coastal Balkans region.

Along the way, we stopped at several restored watermills, with their mill races still intact. They were used primarily to grind locally harvested grain into flour, and to wash processed wool. A blacksmith shop also used a waterwheel to drive its furnace bellows to keep the fire hot enough to work the iron, and to power the heavy trip hammers the smith used to shape tools.

A serpentine elevated wooden walkway, without guardrails, twisted through groves of flooded forest, and kept us dry as the spring runoff rushed below us. It’s important to be aware of your footing in these circumstances, and we always waited at a wider part of the walkway for other folks to pass when the boardwalk was too narrow, to avoid fulfilling my mental image of being swept away down the rapids.

Unlike tourist sites in the United States, where everything is fenced to protect us from injury, in Europe you are expected to be responsible for yourself, and aware of your surroundings to guard against mishaps. We thoroughly enjoyed the waterfalls. We don’t see them in the coastal area at home, since we live nearly at sea level.

Zadar protrudes into the Adriatic, on a small peninsula, like a thumbs up sign, its once rough coastline now manicured with a sidewalk that follows its waterfront. Parking was challenging, but after circling the old town twice, we found a metered space near the Apartments Donat, our base for three nights. The rooms in the restored 700-year-old building were small. But the location, on a small lane overlooking the Cathedral of St. Anastasia and the Church of St. Donatus, was very convenient.

The manager of the building, who didn’t live on site, kindly made his parking space, next to the building, available to us for the duration of our stay. While having a rental car provides a lot of freedom, the typical 20 euro daily expense of parking in Europe can quickly add up. It’s not always possible, but we try to stay in hotels that provide free parking when we can.

Later that day we walked along the waterfront to Obala Petra Krešimira, a jetty that was being battered by whipping winds and crashing waves, which lifted large sprays of water over anyone brave or foolish enough to venture out onto it.

Nearby, in front of Zadar’s City Hall was Morske Orgulje, the Sea Organ, an experimental architectural sound installation designed by the architect Nikola Bašić and completed in 2005 to refurbish Zadar’s waterfront which had been neglected since the end of World War Two. The design incorporates polyethylene organ pipes under the marble stairs that lead down to the water. The motion of the waves continuously forces air through these pipes to create a “harmonic symphony crested by the wind, waves, and tides,” that is vented through the rise of the steps. Visually it’s a flat surface, but as we walked across the plaza the ethereal music faded in and out moodily with the motion of the turbulent sea.

The Greeting to the Sun, a solar-powered light installation also designed by Bašić, was a short distance away, closer to the tip of the peninsula. It’s a 22m (72ft) wide disc composed of 300 multi-layered glass plates, embedded into the plaza, which you can walk across. The panels absorb solar energy during the day to turn the disk into a colorful light display in the evening.

We hoped the storm clouds would begin to break apart so we could catch a scene from the spot that “Alfred Hitchcock once declared during a 1964 visit to the city as having “the most beautiful sunsets in the world.”  Alas, during our stay in Zadar the mornings were sunny, the afternoons cloudy, and our sunsets stormy and grey.

The next morning, we set out to properly explore the town, first stopping at the Roman Effigies, a collection of column sections and decorated capitals from the ancient Roman Forum, which stood in the area of Piazza Papa Giovanni Paolo (Pope John Paul II Square). The plaza itself was built over Zadar’s 16th century water cistern.

The piazza located next to the 9th-century Church of St. Donatus and the 11th-century Benedictine Monastery of St. Maria is the center point for the northern end of Zadar. The historic buildings did not open until later in the morning, so we continued down Zadar’s narrow lanes, enjoying the fragrance of orange blossoms while we strolled to Pekara Dalmatinka – Old Town Bakery, a recommendation from our friend at the car rental agency.

On the way, something piqued our curiosity down a narrower side alley and we detoured. There in a small workshop a craftsman was applying gold leaf to a frame. We appreciate old-world talents like this, and I asked in English, and gestured with my cell phone, if I could take a photo of him working. All was lost in translation and the man suddenly walked out, only to return a few minutes with his son who spoke English, and we chatted for a minute. Apparently, few tourists ever poked their heads into the workshop; the frame he was gilding was for a church, and his dad is a busy man, but it is okay to take his picture.

It’s a mistake to arrive hungry to a bakery that confronts you with a display case featuring mouthwatering Croatian pastries. We drooled over Kremšnita, custard cream cake; Madarica, a layered chocolate cake; Makovnjača & Orehnjača, a rolled dough pastry filled with walnuts or poppy seeds; Princes Krafne, a doughnut stuffed with luscious cream; Splitska Torta, a cake with layers of meringue, cream, almonds and figs; and of course Börek, a delicious, coiled phyllo dough pastry filled with feta cheese or spinach.

We planned to walk off our over-indulgence, and headed through Trg Pet Bunara, the Five Wells Square, to find a bench in Queen Jelena Madijevka Park. Tree branches laden with purple flowers hung over the decorative railing at the entrance to the park, which sits atop the city’s old bastion, next to the ancient Venetian Land Gate, and was the perfect spot for a morning picnic.  Built in 1573, it replaced an old Roman gate, and featured a relief of the Winged Lion of St. Mark, the symbol of the Venetian Empire, to celebrate a naval victory over the Turks. From our bench we watched a boat enter the small harbor in front of Zadar’s ancient defensive wall, a continuous activity since Zadar’s founding.

The ancient walls and gates around the city were first built by the Romans and then expanded upon by the Venetians in the 16th and 17th centuries, to defend the city from multiple attacks by the Ottoman Empire.

Several of the ancient gates still stand and allow passage from the old town to the ferry harbor. The top of the ramparts over the gates have been incorporated into a scenic walkway that parallels the waterfront and provides a pretty vantage point to view all the maritime activity, and some vignettes of old town Zadar.

Along this walk we spotted a younger man rowing a small boat with passengers across the narrow harbor, from a small lighthouse to a staired landing on the quay. Apparently, they were on the way to work and his service, like the traghetto in Venice, provided a shortcut. A sign we discovered the next day listed the fee as 2€.

Over the years the population of Zadar has sprawled into new buildings on the mainland, unlike Dubrovnik, which has been gentrified into a theme park. Old Town Zadar, on the other hand, has some newer buildings on its peninsula, but also has many that show the patina of age, and give the town an authenticity and delightful ambience.

Our sunny morning was threatened with rain by noon, so we headed into the Archaeological Museum, where they have an interesting and diverse collection of ancient artifacts, statuary, and busts unearthed in Zadar, from its pre-history through the Roman Era and Venetian times. Especially unusual was the collection of Neolithic Rhytons, a  four-legged ceramic ritual vessel, from the Impresso and Danilo cultures.

From the museum there is a good view of the Church of St. Donatus, and the belltower of Sainte Anastasie across from the ruins of the Roman forum. We’d pass these landmarks multiple times during our stay.

Fortunately, we did have good raincoats, and we scurried to Kavana Centar, a very nice café several blocks away that had some indoor tables still available and offered a reprieve from the rain. Located away from the main square, its menu was very budget friendly.

Though the rain had not stopped, folks continued on with their plans, and soon umbrellas were out everywhere.  After lunch, we headed back to St. Donatus, an unusual tall round cylinder-shaped church built during the 9th century in a pre-Romanesque style. Much of its construction utilized the ruins of the old Roman Forum, upon which it was built.

The fragments of reused columns, capitals, plinths, and cornices were used as fill, and can be seen in several exposed spots along the church’s foundation and interior. Its mammoth interior is 27m (89ft) tall, and at the top is a gallery that overlooks the space below.

The church was deconsecrated in the early 1700s, after which it was unceremoniously used as a wine cellar, warehouse, and Zadar’s first archaeological museum in the early 1900s. Nowadays, along with being a tourist site, it hosts theMusical Evenings at St Donatus, a concert series that utilizes the church’s excellent acoustics, every July.

The Campanile di Sant’Anastasia, the belltower of the Cathedral of St Anastasia and its monastery, is right next to St. Donatus. The campanile was added to the church in the 15th century, four centuries after the church and its monastery were completed. During the high season it’s possible to climb the 186 steps to the top of the 55m (180ft) tall tower for a panoramic view of the city and sea. But unfortunately, in early April it was closed when we visited. Surprisingly, the entrance to the cathedral is on the other end of the building, around the corner from the belltower, and took us a few minutes to figure out its location.

The interior of the Romanesque style church features an open timber truss roof, interesting side altars, an ancient fresco featuring what is believed to be a likeness of the saint, and the remnants of a 13th century mosaic floor, which I almost accidentally fell on, after losing my balance on the uneven stone flooring.

We could only imagine the uproar that would have ensued if I had damaged the antiquity. We wondered if our travel insurance would be of any use in this situation.

There are numerous other churches in old town Zadar. Choosing several churches and connecting the dots between them we found was a good way to see the various neighborhoods on the peninsula.

One of our favorites was the Crkva Gospe od Zdravlja, the Church of Our Lady of Health, set on the edge of a small park. Its small intimate interior was often visited by folks on their way to work in the morning.

Over the course of our wanderings past random buildings, down narrow alleys, and in dim courtyards, we found examples of the many different architectural styles that have graced the city over the centuries.

On our last night in Zadar, we drove off the peninsula to another recommended restaurant, Batak Zadar, located in a shopping center, far away from the tourist zone. We ordered several of their Croatian classics, and a local red wine. Everything was very good, and an excellent value compared to the inflated pricing of the restaurants in old town Zadar.

Though the weather could have been more cooperative, we enjoyed our three-night stay in Zadar, and found the size of the charming city just right for a short stay before the start our three-week road trip through Croatia, Slovenia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina.

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