Post-Honeymoon Musings + Photos Galore

At 9 p.m. on Friday night, we fell into Lloyd’s parents’ waiting arms at the airport after an uneventful-but-exhausting 21 hours of travel. Leaving Ljubljana on Friday morning, we shared a mix of sadness and relief about coming home. While extended travel suits us both rather well, we know there are jobs, family, friends, and a little black cat back home that wouldn’t much appreciate a longer absence.

During our journey homeward, we spent some time reflecting on the whole of our trip. What was our favorite city? Favorite meal? Best accommodations? Most exhilarating experience? And in the end, we agreed that it is nearly impossible to pick one, two, or even three things in any of those categories. We simply found so much to enjoy each day in each city, and for so many different reasons. But that reality hardly makes a satisfying summary for the rest of you, so I will try to list some highlights here that might give you a good idea of why we feel our month away was perhaps the greatest honeymoon had by any couple, anywhere.

Dubrovnik highlights:
I give Dubrovnik its own category because this was the very beginning of our honeymoon, when we were feeling the greatest sense of awe about our chosen destination and the keenest sense of relief about relaxing with just each other after a week of wedding- and post-wedding celebrations. Our favorite parts of Dubrovnik included:

Our sobes with Lidija and Renata, with whom we were first introduced to the delightful concept of staying in private Croatian guest rooms.

From Honeymoon - Dubrovnik

From Honeymoon - Dubrovnik

Our walk along the top of Dubrovnik’s medieval wall, which gave us breathtaking views of the city and demonstrated the perfect marriage between the ancient and the modern, the war-torn and the rebuilt, the beautiful and the functional. No other city had an opportunity quite like this one to view it as a whole. Though it was an incredibly hot and sweaty venture, we loved every minute of it.

From Honeymoon - Dubrovnik

Cold Drinks-Buža, the amazing bar built right into the rocks just outside the city wall. We shared many a libation here, listening to Frank Sinatra, watching the sunset over the Adriatic and witnessing some of the other patrons dive right into the Adriatic below us.

From Honeymoon - Dubrovnik

From Honeymoon - Dubrovnik

Our introduction to octopus salad, a surprisingly refreshing summer mix of fresh tomatoes, onions, cilantro and tender octopus. We still can’t figure out why it wasn’t chewy like the stateside octopus we’ve had. Mysteriously tender Adriatic octopus, I guess.

From Honeymoon - Dubrovnik

Our experience with the Bravo! Vancouver chorale and the DSO (documented here and below with a couple of photos from our new friend Brian).

From Honeymoon - Dubrovnik

From Honeymoon - Dubrovnik

Day trips to pristine Mljet and lush Lokrum, two of our favorite miniscule Croatian islands. Unfortunately, we hadn’t downloaded our photos of these islands to our Picasa site before Lloyd accidentally swam with the camera, so our visual record is missing. But take this unfortunate incident as proof as to how absolutely irresistible the swimming opportunities were.

And now, the rest of the best of our memories and our favorite things:

Mostar in Bosnia-Herzegovina: A lovely river town with a sad recent history, Mostar captivated us right away with its iconic bridge, mosques, churches and cobblestone. Lloyd did a great job conveying our wonder of Mostar in his post, so I won’t belabor. But here is a photo to remind you.

From The Adventures of Courtney and Lloyd

Sljivovica: Whenever we shared the news of our recent marriage (which became often after learning what would happen), our server or the restaurant’s owner would deliver two shot glasses of a very strong plum brandy called sljivovica (slee-voh-VEE-tseh) or some similar fruit-based spirit. The first server to bestow this stuff on us called it “firewater” and assured us it would “aid the digestion.” I don’t know how much digestion-aiding it did, but it sure as heck made both of us good and goofy for the walk home.

Korčula and Apartments Lenni: Korčula was our last stop on the Dalmatian Coast before heading inland, and as I wrote in an earlier post, this little island felt like home right away. Upon our arrival we were treated to the island’s hero’s welcome for Čoda, a Croatian swimmer who had just won a first place medal at some international meet. We didn’t know that we had shared our catamaran ride from Split with Korčula’s most recent favorite son (Marco Polo is her first), but when we arrived at the boat’s dock, it was filled with schoolchildren chanting his name - Cho-DA! Cho-DA! Cho-DA! The large boat emptied with no sign of the star, and we stayed to watch the children turn dejectedly from the boat as soon as it closed its doors. Moments later the boat’s doors swung open again, and Čoda stepped forward with a grin, arms raised in triumph, with his gold medal gleaming on his chest. The children went nuts, and Čoda spent the next 10 minutes signing their shirts and shaking their little hands. Our host Lenni, who had met us at the boat, bemusedly explained to us who he was.

Lenni and her husband Periša were to become a huge part of the reason we loved Korčula. I wrote about this in my prior post and won’t expand here, except to say that meeting people like these two is why everyone should travel.

From Hvar and Korčula

Gelato, wine and pivo: Every day had three things in common: gelato, wine and “pivo,” which is Croatian for beer. Lloyd drank at least one pivo every day; I had a very good and inexpensive wine with each dinner. This region does wine very well, at least to my amateur tastebuds. And I don’t need to explain why we loved the gelato except to say that in the sometimes-oppressive heat, gelato became not just an indulgence but a survival mechanism.

From Rovinj, Poreč, Grožnjan, and Motovun

Swimming: We swam nearly every day on the Dalmatian coast. The Adriatic itself is incredibly inviting, and the salt lakes on Croatia’s tiny islands are like something out of a fantasy world: impossibly clear and secluded, calling to something instinctual within you to jump right in and stay awhile. We always did. I am now holding a grudge against Lake Washington for being 50 degrees in the middle of summer and packed with motorboats.

From Hvar and Korčula

Plitvice: How is this place not one of the 7 natural wonders of the world? Or maybe it will be, as I am just learning that there’s a worldwide poll to decide on the modern seven. Anyway, Plitvice Lakes National Park certainly gets our vote. Lloyd wrote about this one too, and though his blog is very good, you can also just look at a photo and understand why this place will stick with us forever.

From Plitvice

Not to mention one of our more memorable dining experiences occurred in a tiny village outside the park, in the cavernous basement dining room of an inn-style sobe. The cook was a thin, rather masculine woman who spoke very little English. When we asked what kind of meat was in the goulash before we ordered, she held her hands up to her head like antlers. After she had successfully pantomimed “deer” for us, Lloyd ordered the dish. His goulash was excellent, very flavorful, and he complimented her on it. She grinned, then pantomimed shooting a rifle, complete with sound effects. “Pow!” she said proudly, and then “yesterday,” pointing at his plate. Lloyd was apparently eating some very fresh venison, killed the day prior by our host. Just doesn’t happen every day in our little urban/suburban American lives.

Ljubljana
This city, like Dubrovnik, gets its own category in our memory list. We wound down our trip here, and after weeks of charming Croatian beach towns, Ljubljana’s cosmopolitan bustle surprised and delighted us both. The city was vibrant morning until night, its inhabitants were mellow and friendly, the architecture was incredible and we could truly feel the rich Slavic history here. Very quickly we found ourselves fantasizing about settling right into Ljubljana life – Lloyd taking a job at the Microsoft office there (really), our learning the Slovene language, raising our kids there for a while. On our final night, a restaurant proprietor took us on a tour of his kitchen, gave us shots of a strong grape firewater and talked to us about city life, and we learned that Ljubljana is about negative 20 degrees Celsius in the winters with several meters of snow. Now, we look forward to renting a summer flat there instead.

From Ljubljana

This epic post, despite my best intentions, doesn’t quite do the trip justice. When you experience so much fun and wonder every day, nothing ever could. So many of you contributed to this event through our honeymoon registry, and we want you to know that we savored the trip richly, loving every moment and feeling incredibly grateful for your part in it. A month-long honeymoon is quite an indulgence, and we feel so blessed that our friends and families helped us make this travel fantasy a reality – one that somehow exceeded even our highest expectations.

Thank you. Our lifelong journey together has begun in the best possible way.

From Rovinj, Poreč, Grožnjan, and Motovun	From Ljubljana

(If you'd like to vicariously experience more of our trip, click here to view our photo albums.)

The Trip to Ljubljana

This post is a bit after the fact, as we have been in Ljubljana for a few days now. But I thought it best to document this voyage for posterity.

Our trip to Ljubljana (pronounced loo-blee-AH-nah) from Istria last Saturday was full of strange happenings. We woke up to the sound of thunder and lightning striking the city of Rovinj, where we were staying in Istria. This was the type of lightning where you see the flash and immediately hear the clap. It was then followed by torrential downpours, the kind where you can't see for ten feet. That was the first rain we had seen in Croatia beyond a drizzle.

The rain calmed while we packed and ate breakfast, and we headed out for the 15 minute walk to the car. On the way, the rain of course picked up again, though just a steady rain this time, no longer torrential. I left Courtney with the bags under an awning as I ran the rest of the way to the car. I noticed people still going about their business, riding Vespas, wearing summer clothes, etc. They were clearly caught a bit off guard by the weather.

While driving out of town, we learned the hard way that Croatians don't have much experience driving in the rain. The guy behind us, in an older compact car, decided that the line of cars wasn't going fast enough. He realized too late that his car did not have the power to pass before the oncoming cars arrived, so he slammed the brakes, and skidded over to the shoulder on the opposite side of the road while the oncoming cars laid on their horns. No harm done, but a harbinger of events to come.

The same guy, not a minute later, failed to notice when the line of cars slowed. He hit the brakes again, but too late. He skidded right into our rental car, still going quite fast. It was the last day we had the rental (the last hour really), and we were hoping to return it without incident. It was not to be.

The guy spoke a bit of English, but not much. I let him know that we would need a police report, since it was a rental, and he got on his cellphone. He was upset, as were we, standing out there beside the road in the rain, but we managed to keep it civil. Our car had minimal damage, just a plastic panel out of place on the rear bumper. His car was pretty smashed up, was steaming heavily, and had lost all of its coolant as the radiator had been shoved back into the engine. At least he was not going to just drive off.

Ten minutes later, his mother showed up. This was clearly their only car, as she showed up on foot, walking along the highway in the rain. And she was clearly not happy with him.

Ten minutes after that, the policija appeared in a van. As I walked up to them, I asked "Govorite li Engleski?" to which they replied "no." Not a word of English between the two cops. The only one who spoke any English in our little party was the 23 year old kid who hit us. This was going to be an adventure!

I spent about 45 minutes in the back of that van, wedged on a small bench between a significantly overweight cop and an angry little old Croat lady. On the other side of the table sat the other cop and the kid who hit us, also known as my translator. Courtney stayed in the rental car (probably for the best). After some hand waving and gesturing, the cops pretty quickly came to understand what happened. We both blew into a portable breathalizer test, and we were both at 0.0 (it is illegal to drive with any alcohol in your system in Croatia. It will land you in jail. They are quite strict about it). It was quite a harrowing experience, but in the end the cops gave me a copy of the incident report and told me to give it to the rental agency. There should be no problems, my interpreter said.

We made it back to Rijeka an hour or so later, and found the rental agency next to the bus station. The rental car guy took a look at the damage and immediately popped the plastic part back into place. "All fixed," he said. He took a look at the incident report, made us write down a statement of what happened (in all capital letters, strange), and let us go. No extra charges or anything. It was easier than I thought it would be. I think he was just happy to have his car in drivable condition for the next guy.

The next bit of luck came in the form of a train schedule. We were next to the bus station, so we looked at the bus to Ljubljana. We found they run twice a day, at 8AM and 2AM. Out of luck (it was noon by this time), we wandered to the train station a half kilometer away. We looked at the schedule and the next train was at 11PM. Eleven hours of walking around Rijeka (an industrial port city without much for tourists) in the rain with our backpacks sounded unpleasant, considering how our day had started. We decided to ask the information guy, just in case. Yes, the next train was in 15 minutes. Two hours later, we arrived in Ljubljana, with time to explore the beautiful city in the afternoon. A stroke of good
luck!

The final remarkable thing that happened to us on this strange day was on our walk from the train station to our hotel. As we walked, the rain started picking up again. Perhaps a hundred feet from the entrance of our hotel, it started coming down quite hard. So we ducked into this little restaurant called "Le Petit Cafe" to wait out the rain spell. Well apparently that storm that had hit Rovinj in the morning had made its way to Ljubljana in the afternoon. We watched and ordered some lunch as all the people at the sidewalk tables (covered by umbrellas) frantically came inside. Then came the massive thunder and lightning strikes, along with marble sized hail, torrential rain, and wind. A large branch of a nearby tree came down on an umbrella just outside the window, due to the high winds. The hail flew in the windows and doors before people finally figured to shut them. We watched all this from our spot in the corner while munching on a lovely toasted sandwich. Our server assured us that she had never in her life seen weather such as this in Ljubljana, and that we were witnessing the storm of the century right here in our first half hour in town. Well, a few minutes later the storm subsided, and an hour later there were blue skies and a bit if sun.

We have been back to Le Petit Cafe several times. The food, atmosphere, and people were delightful. What a way to find such a hidden gem.

So that is the account of our eventful journey to Ljubljana. We have since fallen in love with this city, due to its friendliness and charm. But that is a subject for a different post.

-- Post From My iPhone

Link to photos of Plitvice

We got into an internet cafe for a bit today, and I was able to upload the pictures of Plitvice from our camera. Hope you enjoy!
http://picasaweb.google.com/lloydg/Plitvice?feat=directlink

Istria and Moving On

First, check out this album. We'd like to post our camera photos into the body of the blog, but Blogger forces us to edit the html to do this, and we HATE that on our own dime in the internet cafe. So our posts from our iPhones work beautifully for embedding photos, but the camera photos...not so much. Anyway. Onward.

Neither Lloyd nor I relished leaving Korčula, though we agreed it was time for our adventures to continue. Our stay there was close to perfect, and our incredibly kind hosts sent us a touching email after we left telling us that they would reserve a room for us and our baby on our next trip to Korčula.

Sniffle. (And no, grandparent- and auntie-hopefuls, this does not mean that Lenni and Periša know something you don't. They're just being cheerfully anticipatory, like you).

Anyway, as you can see from Lloyd's post on Plitvice Lakes National Park, we did move on to something fantastic. I told Lloyd that Plitvice is most certainly where all the world's unicorns and fairies hang out. Though our photos are lovely (and Lloyd just linked to our entire photo album, above) they don't quite capture the awe, the magic. We both feel as though we've seen one of the earth's greatest natural treasures. What a cool sidebar to our otherwise seaside-urban honeymoon.

Now we're up in Rovinj, on the Istrian peninsula - land of truffles (the mushroom kind), honey, and true Italian culture. We hear more Italian than Croatian spoken here, and this once-Venetian peninsula seems rather dedicated to preserving its Italian roots. My favorite demonstration of the Italian influence is in the food. Even our simplest meals explode with flavor - a well-applied truffle here, a perfectly dried prosciutto there. The rest of Croatia's food, while tasty, often lacks variety or a good punch of spice. Not so in Istria. During our first meal (fettucine with truffles and pork tenderloin in a wine sauce), Lloyd and I barely spoke at all - just smiled at each other between bites.

Our first day, we oriented ourselves to Rovinj and saw its one main attraction (besides the great Old Town, fascinating dual-culture and thriving nightlife), the Church of Saint Euphemia. Her remains washed up in Rovinj in a huge sarcophagus centuries ago, and they have celebrated her here ever since. The sarcophagus is on display in the church, but we weren't allowed to photograph it. We did, however, take photos of Rovinj from the bell tower.

Lloyd has forced me (he will say "encouraged") to climb every bell tower we see. Some have been terrifying. Euphemia was the was the most terrifying, with rickety wooden steps angled downward, something between an inclined ladder and a staircase. I almost died and had to engage in every self-soothing behavior I could think of at the moment, including singing the Sesame Street theme song to myself like my mom would do when I was scared as a child. But the views, admittedly, were fantastic.

The next day we went on a road trip to Poreč, to see the famed Byzantine mosaics in a cathedral there. The photos don't do it justice, because there wasn't enough light and we haven't bothered getting to know our camera well enough to photograph in the dark, but hopefully you'll get the feel for it. After Poreč, we headed to Grožnjan, a tiny artist hamlet on a hilltop. We had a wonderful meal of homemade sausages and a truffle frittata there. The frittata, oddly, came scrambled instead of frittata-ed, like our fellow diners received. I truly believe the waiter saw that we were American and thought we might like scrambled eggs instead. No matter, they were perfectly wonderful. We spent the rest of our time in Grožnan wandering around the tiny town, trying to picture ourselves in the 14th century. Not hard to do with no cars, narrow cobblestone streets and original limestone structures everwhere.

The final stop on our Istrian road trip was Motovun, another town perched on a hilltop, where Mario Andretti was born. Such perfect irony - no cars in Motovun, you have to park and hike up to the Old Town. It's surrounded by walkable ramparts, so we took a surprisingly brief stroll (due to the miniscule town) around them, admiring the pastoral scenes below.

Today is our last day in Istria and, alas, in Croatia. We're off to Ljubljana in Slovenia tomorrow for the final leg of our journey. We are still having a blast, still discovering, still having mighty adventures. We're also building in a good amount of lazy time, which I think might be the hardest to leave behind. Now, off to take a boat adventure or to swim in the Adriatic. Definitely to get some gelato.

Plitvice

Since we left Korcula and headed north, things have for the most part lined up in our favor. We took the early morning boat to Split, then were able to find a rental car fairly quickly. We headed north, up the coast for a night and a day in Plitvice, then on to Istria. We were able to drop in and find a nice cozy place to stay in a Sobe near Plitvice. We also easily found accommodation for four nights in Rovinj, a beautiful ancient town on the Istrian peninsula, which is where we are now.

Here are a few pictures and thoughts on Plitvice.


This is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Due to some mineral in the mountains, the river in this valley forms natural dams. So there are a whole bunch of lakes, with thousands of waterfalls in between. I don't know the science behind it, but I know it is always changing and the water is extraordinarily blue.





It was so nice to get a bit of "green time" out in the woods. We got to the park early (around 8:30) and hiked some of the trails before most of the other tourists arrived. We did this on the advice from our Rick Steves travel guide. I am so glad we did, because in the afternoon this place gets quite crowded.

Plitvice is not large. We spent about 6 hours there and were able to see most of it. We went to the upper lakes first, along the main trails.





We veered off into a smaller trail which took us into the hills.


You can really get a sense of how blue the water is from above. These were taken from a phone camera. We will post the pictures from the real camera later.

After lunch we headed to the lower lakes.


There was also a huge 300 foot waterfall here which I forgot to photograph with my phone. Trust me it is stunning. For now these pictures will have to do.

Plitvice was exactly what we needed. We saw some amazing beauty mixed with a little bit of exercise. Plitvice was good for the body and good for the soul.

-- Post From My iPhone

Korcula. Not Leaving.

Courtney here, writing from Lloyd's iPhone. This should be an adventure in itself. If nothing else, it will force me to be pithy, which may be a relief to those of you who slogged through my last post.

Aaah, Korcula.



We love Korcula. So much so that we've decided to extend our stay here. Our hosts, Lenni and Perisa (Croatian for Peter) are absolutely delightful and we were thrilled when they asked us to join them for coffee - overlooking the Adriatic, no less - on our first morning here. They're working to find us accommodations for 2 more nights, either here in their sobe or with friends.

What's so fantastic about Korcula? It has a rich, proud history (Marco Polo hailed from here, back when Korcula was a Venetian territory), plenty of old churches, buildings, cemeteries and ruins to explore, and the incredible emerald-blue waters and rugged, mountainous interior as the rest of Dalmatia. But more than that, Korcula has a friendly, welcoming, laid- back island vibe that just feels like home to us after nearly two weeks of exploring this part of the world.

We've eaten incredibly well.


Octopus salad...



Grilled fish...



And maybe a bit too much wine.

We've also explored about a third of this island's 50 miles or so by scooter...






...and had a fantastic adventure sailing a small Laser sailboat in a channel just outside the Old Town.


Would you look at this handsome devil?

So we're definitely making the most of our time here, and perhaps doing a shameful amount of relaxing too. We love our afternoon siesta. Why the hell can't Americans figure out the siesta thing? Climate? Psssht. Not a good enough reason.

We're also pleasantly surprised by the relaxed, non-litigious nature of everything. You can touch things in the museums - no guards will snap at you for getting too close. The scooter and boat rental places asked for minimal proof that we were functioning human beings before they calmly turned over their wares. Basically, everyone seems to assume a level of good intentions of everyone else. This attitude is so rare anywhere these days, but even more so from tourist destinations. I imagine the language barrier makes some countries ultra-cautious - you can't be too careful when you're communicating complex matters such as the ones in rental contracts and "do not touch."

I failed with making this a pithy post, I realize. You're too kind to read my unedited blather thus far. Off to bed - tomorrow brings a move to our new accommodations, seeing Marco Polo's house (a suspect claim, we're told, but bound to be interesting nonetheless), swimming in the Adriatic and a possible afternoon sailing encore. Next stop: Istrian peninsula.

I miss the cat, but not much else. :-)

-- Post From My iPhone

Reflections on Accommodations from Split

Traveling observation: I think one's idea of a place can be colored by the accommodations at which one stays. For example, when I look back on my time in San Jose, Costa Rica, I think of it as a dirty, dangerous place - and I stayed in a dingy, windowless room behind about 3 locked doors in an area of town known for its muggings. In stark contrast stands Granada, Nicaragua, at which I "splurged" on a gorgeous 5-star hotel in a classic old building right on the square for about $60 a night. My idea of Granada, of course, is lovely and idyllic.

I don't consider myself too much of a princess when it comes to accommodations. Clearly, Lloyd and I chose early on to stay in rooms in private residences in Croatia and Slovenia rather than in expensive, sterile hotels. There is an element of the unknown with this approach, and we've committed to making ourselves comfortable with that. Also, we only reserved sobe for our first and last weeks' stays, making a true adventure of the middle two weeks of our trip. Our first three sobe have been splendid, with gracious hosts and clean, inviting rooms.

Yesterday's chances didn't quite swing in our favor. We booked a room in Split two nights before our arrival, but our host failed to write to us with his/her address and phone number so we could find the place. No matter, we thought - we would certainly find it on arrival since we had the street name. In our experiences so far, the sobe are clearly marked on each street.

Upon disembarking from our bus, we were a bit unimpressed with Split already. We've been in these darling small towns that present an immediate charm upon arrival - charming by sight, smell and by acquaintance with others. Split, on the other hand, is a big city with cold industrial buildings, uninviting smells and indifferent, almost unfriendly big-city attitudes. So we hastily found a map, wandered over to the street on which we were staying, and were greeted with large, imposing graffiti on the side of a stone wall: WHITE POWER NO NIGGERS.

Wow. Who would ever live on a street that allowed this kind of graffiti to remain there for any length of time? It had clearly been there for days, maybe months. Hell, I almost bought a gallon of paint and cleaned it up myself. So we were immediately freaked out about the street. Then we couldn't find our soba after 3 hot trips back and forth with our packs, during which the locals seemed to eye us with suspicion. I was relieved when Lloyd finally said, "You know what, let's bail on this place. Let's find something else." So we headed back to the bus station and went into one of those tourist agencies that helps visitors book rooms. Two phone calls later, and we had our place - and our host would pick us up in 5 minutes. Things were looking up.

So we thought. I'll be darned if we didn't end up on the same damn street 8 minutes later. Our room was dark and musty, and the bed came with only a sheet. The pillowcases and towels were threadbare. The shower had been hastily cleaned and contained a few hairy remnants of the former tenant. I definitely found my inner princess here. So we immediately booked another room for the following night in a very nice but expensive soba recommended in our guidebook, and then we relaxed a bit. After the world's speediest showers back on Hell street, we headed out to see the the good parts of Split. We felt there must be some good parts.

Diocletian's Palace and the church within its walls - said to be the oldest church in all of Christendom - were breathtaking. We sat inside the church for a very long time contemplating the ornate glory of its interior and listening to two devout women recite the Rosary. We climbed its 200-foot belltower (after much fussing on my part and sweet coaxing on Lloyd's) and saw panoramic views of Split. Then we ate a fine dinner in a hidden, family-owned pizzeria and finished our evening by walking the Riva, the fancy waterfront promenade that is lined with palm trees and cafes. After all of this exploring, I think we're glad we came - but Split still isn't our favorite place. It's expensive, loud and crowded, and we're in honeymoon mode, I guess. We did pick up a replacement camera quite easily (and expensively) here, so we're happy about that.

We've dedicated today to plotting out the most ambiguous portion of our trip. From here we head to the island of Korcula to spend three nights, and we're both quite eager to get back to a quieter place where we are surrounded by shoreline and can jump right into the clear blue-green Adriatic and blissfully bob around in the water. Split has several crowded beaches and none with that pristine feel we found in Dubrovnik and northward up the the coast. After Korcula and a day trip to the island of Hvar, we plan to head into the industrial city of Rijecca to rent a car and to spend a few days exploring the Istrian peninsula and Plitvice National Park. We will stay in Rovinj in Istria for a few days, I think, though Lloyd has just met a pair of friendly tourists who recommended against that town on the grounds that it's too touristy. Adventure! After that, we chill in Ljubljana, Slovenia for our final week.

Off to enjoy more of Split and to check into our new accommodations. And maybe we should pick up that gallon of paint. I am a bit haunted.

Stari Most

Like most tourists, I became fascinated by Stari Most (the old bridge) in Mostar. This is the landmark that gave Mostar its name.






The bridge spans the Neratva river. It was built in the 17th century by the Ottomans, whe ruled the area at the time. Pasha (king) Suliman the Magnificient commissioned the bridge to promote trade between east and west. To the west of the bridge live mostly Croats, who were western Christians. On the east side of the bridge are the Bosniaks, who are Muslims. It is still largely like this today - Croats on the west side and Bosniaks on the east side. It very quickly became a symbol for the world - the bridge between east and west. The city lived like this in harmony for hundreds of years. The Mostari were the keepers and defenders of the bridge hundreds of years ago. When the town grew up around the bridge, they named the town after these men. Today Mostar is a thriving city, not just a tourist town. It is the largest city in the Herzegovina region, and its unofficial capital.

(warning - the next paragraph may be hard to read. It was hard to write)
In the 1990s as you all know, there was a war in this region. It was a particularly brutal war. These people had lived together mostly peacefully for hundreds of years (with the possible exception of when Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated by a disgruntled Bosniak in 1914, sparking World War I), and share mostly the same ancestry and languages (they are all Slavs). But when Yugoslavia broke up, flames of old resentments and feelings of nationalism were fanned by some bad politicians. It became a three way war between the Serbs (eastern orthodox Christians), the Croats (western Catholics), and the Bosniaks (Muslims, descendents from the time when the Ottomans ruled this area). And because of the policies of these bad politicians, it evolved from a border dispute into a brutal free for all, complete with "ethnic cleansing". The stated purpose of these policies ( ethnic cleansing, "rape camps," etc.) was to ensure that these people could never live together peacefully again. Whole villages were killed, mass graves have been found. We still don't know how many people died in these wars. America and the UN eventually came in againt the Serbs, but atrocities and ethnic cleansing were committed by all sides. There were no good guys.











We visited a cemetary where every grave was from 1993, the year I graduated highschool, and the most terrible year for Bosnia-Herzegovina.

This brings us back to the bridge. It was shelled by the Croats from atop a hill, and fell into the water. Because of the type of mortar used by the builders hundreds of years ago, it turned the river red. The residents later said their old friend was bleeding. This was all caught on a shaky home video, which is shown at the bridge museum. It was a strategic move, but also deeply symbolic.






At the end of the war, these bad politicians were voted out of office. Slobodan Milosivic tried to claim that the vote was rigged, but a huge rally of Serbs in Belgrade ensured that the Serbian people peacefully took back their country. They were tired of war. I don't know exactly how peace was made, or how the borders were drawn, but somehow it happened. Now what once was Yugoslavia is the separate countries of Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Montenegro, Kosovo, and Bosnia-Herzegovina. In 1997, two years after the war ended, the Bosniaks and Croats who live in Mostar comissioned a new "old bridge". They decided to do it in the same way as it was originally built - with the same tools, and by hand cutting the stones. It took longer to rebuilt the bridge in the 1990s than it originally took to build it in the 1600s. The bridge was once again a symbol, this time of reconciliation.





Today reconciliation seems to be taking hold. There are invariably still feelings of resentment, but these people are once again living together peacefully. Serbs and Bosniaks spend their vacations on the Dalmation coast in Croatia. Beyond a minor rivalry over who can build a taller mosque minaret or church bell tower, I did not sense any bitterness between the Bosniaks and Croats in Mostar.





I understand little about this region (most of the above was paraphrased from a Rick Steves travel book and from visiting a few museums), but I am optimistic for the future. There are signs of the recent war, such as buildings that have yet to be repaired and bullet marks and morter holes. But the old bitterness seems to be giving way to the even older sense of brotherhood (again, these people are mostly all Slavs, who migrated to the region from eastern Europe over a thousand years ago). In such a beautiful part of the world, it's good to see peace and reconciliation taking hold. And the old bridge is the symbol.

















-- Post From My iPhone

Pictures from Mostar

This town in Bosnia-Herzegovina is more beautiful than I thought it would be. Here are a few pictures.



View of the old bridge while walking to our hotel.


View from the old bridge.



Our lunch.



View from the top of a minaret.



Courtney climbing down the minaret.



A 400 year old Turkish house we visited.



The old town by the bridge.



A pretty spot below the old bridge.

This town is a bit heartbreaking too. We have read about the war here and visited a cemetary where all the deceased dates were 1993.

Tomorrow we go back to the Dalmation coast. We hope all is well back home!

-- Post From My iPhone

A few thoughts on Dubrovnik

On our last night in this town, I wanted to post a few things I found interesting.
1. There are tons of stray cats around the town. Some are cute and friendly, but I guess you aren't supposed to pet them. There is one I saw at Buza (the cold drinks place on the rocks between the city walls and the sea) that was sitting on a tourists lap and purring.
2. Crocks (the rubber shoes) are BIG over here.
3. The air is filled with birds - swifts - which dart around quickly and make a lot of noise. Especially in the morning. But they are charming.
4. The island of Mljet is simply beautiful. Rick Steves says that there is only enough to keep you occupied for a day. Rick got this one wrong. I could spend a week there. We went there for a day and swam and rode bikes around these pristine salt water lakes. Courtney and I agreed that right there was probably the best place to swim in the whole world.
5. The weather is a little surprising. The hottest, most oppressive time of day is 10:30 AM. Then you hear a few thunder claps around noon, and it cools off and becomes quite nice.
6. Sobe (rooms in private residences) are the way to go. We are staying next to the old harbor in the old city for $65 a night. We talked to a couple who were staying in a hotel, where they have to take a 10 minute bus trip to the old city, for like $150. Rick Steves steered us right. Thanks Rick. Below is the view from our delightful room.



7. You will have a hard time eating here if you dont like seafood or pizza. We like both. Not at the same time though, don't worry. I have yet to see a place that serves a shrimp and mussel pizza.
8. We will certainly miss this city. We had a blast exploring it and discovering all the history and flavor it had to offer.

-- Post From My iPhone

Last Night in Dubrovnik

We're relaxing on our last night here in Dubrovnik after having eaten a rather large dinner of pizza and spaghetti Bolognese. If this sounds rather inauthentic, it isn't - Croatia's cuisine consists of two main tracks: Italian and seafood. After last night's seafood extravaganza (grilled sea bass, grilled tuna steak, shrimp, prawns, mussels and squid), we stuck to the cheaper and more filling Italian food, in a randomly selected restaurant just off the main square.

Our last two days in Dubrovnik have brought perhaps our two favorite excursions thus far, to the islands of Mljet and Lokrum. Mljet is an idyllic island with two deep blue salt lakes within its national park. Lloyd and I separated from the rest of the tourists who hopped a shuttle to the lakes and decided to walk to them instead by way of a rocky path. On our way, we found a secluded place just perfect for two honeymooners to hop into the water. The lake was deep, cool and still - only one small boat brought tourists to this larger lake's tiny island - otherwise there was nothing else to be seen except blue water and our little heads bobbing about. Lloyd and I swam blissfully for about 30 minutes and then continued our walk to the next tiny village, where we ate an incredible bowl of fish soup with some prosciutto and cheese. The fish soup was a fish-based broth, we guessed, flavored with tomato and other vegetables in which small chunks of bread were soaking. Nom nom nom!

We rented two creaky bikes to explore the rest of the area around the two lakes. The views were lovely everywhere, with small lagoons and rocky beaches appearing behind the trees every so often. At the end of the bike path, a rocky inlet led out to the sea. Here we found a large, simple stone cross overlooking the Adriatic. We took plenty of photos for Lloyd's mom. On our way back, my janky old bike got a flat, and I powered through a couple of kilometers of hard pedaling before finally making it back to the fish soup place. Our final thought about Mljet: we simply did not have enough time here.

Today we headed out to Lokrum, the small island/nature preserve just 15 minutes away from Dubrovnik by boat. One of the main tourist attractions here is the nudist beach. I wasn't too interested in seeing a bunch of naked people, but I was very interested in swimming in the Adriatic in only my birthday suit. Showing a bravery heretofore unseen in our 3 years together, my incredibly modest husband stripped down and jumped in without much coaxing. He only lasted about 5 minutes before he started thinking a tad too much about the possibilities of fish nibbles and sunburns, so we hopped out, re-robed and explored the rest of the island. Trails took us to an old monastery, a botanical garden and a fortress, all showing some signs of the recent war. We also hit the famous Dead Sea on Lokrum, which is exactly as it sounds - a salty inland lake. "Lake" is a generous term - it's really more of a swimming hole than a lake. Lloyd was so jacked up about getting into it - especially after spying a cave at the far end - that our camera met its untimely demise in his pocket.

We're trying not to think too much about the photos that we may have lost forever. Instead, we're focusing on remembering our amazing experiences and patting ourselves on the back for choosing a fantastic honeymoon destination and making an entire month of this adventure.

Local Celebrities

Just when we thought yesterday couldn't get any better, along comes another blog-worthy story that forces me off the streets of the Old Town and into an internet cafe to share our adventures.
Last night, we had the kind of evening that forced us both to wonder aloud whether the pinnacle of the trip came on our third full day in Croatia. Almost certainly, we have one of our best honeymoon stories for the kids.

You may recall from yesterday's post that we were torn between the fashion show, the outdoor cinema or the Dubrovnik Symphony Orchestra. In the end, the symphony won out (much to the delight of our host Lidija, who giggled that we were nothing like the other travelers she has met), and Lloyd and I made our way to an odd makeshift theater room built right inside the city wall. We stopped at the ticket counter for more information about the concert, and we learned that the choral group performing with the symphony was from Vancouver, Washington. Here we are, thousands of miles away from home, and a small chorale from the Pacific Northwest is performing in Dubrovnik. More than a little odd.

The show was spectacular. The group performed classics by Haydn and Beethoven, as well as an assortment of Negro spirituals incredibly arranged with the Symphony. They also performed Croatia's national anthem, some traditional Croatian music, the Star Spangled Banner, Shenandoah, and the Battle Hymn of the Republic. Lloyd and I were blown away at the complex mix of cultures, arrangements and sheer musical talent.

After the show, one of the Vancouver chorus members stopped me on the way out and said very succinctly, "Thank you for coming tonight." As an aside, this has been happening to me a good bit in Croatia thus far: folks see the wild curly Adriatic hair and assume I am local or from nearby Italy (which, of course, I love - Lloyd is always greeted with 'hello' whereas I get more 'Dobar Dans' and 'Ciaos'). I thanked the man with my truly impeccable American accent and told him that I was a Washingtonian as well. And this is when our night took its unexpected turn.

Within minutes we were introduced to the entire choral group. The news that we were from Washington was exciting, but the fact that we were honeymooners? That was cause for a real celebration. Frank asked us to join the symphony and the choral group for drinks in the outdoor cafe just outside the performance hall. The symphony! And the singers! And this is how Lloyd and I came to be toasted by the entire Dubrovnik Symphony Orchestra and the Bravo!Vancouver chorus. A die-hard Husky couple named Brian and Cheryl bought us our drinks, took photos of us and promised to send them to us as soon as they arrived back in the U.S.

Generally I don't seek the company of other Americans while traveling, but last night was certainly the exception. What an incredible opportunity to meet a group of talented Croatians and Americans and learn a bit about their travels, especially from a Catholic perspective. Many members of the chorus attend a large Catholic church in Vancouver and told us how Medugorje in Bosnia-Herzegovina - the site of their July 1 performance - is a pilgrimage site for them. Lloyd and I felt so honored to share their post-concert evening and to be treated as their special guests. The bulk of our trip lies before us, I realize, but what a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I know we'll seek out their performances back in the Pacific Northwest, especially if the Dubrovnik Symphony Orchestra joins them there as they did last September.

And finally, here is a link to our Picasa page with photos thus far. Psyche - none of last night! Dude, we didn't know to bring the camera to the damn symphony. I hope Brian's photos turned out awesome.

Elaphiti Islands

I was lying about photos today. We're going to work on that tomorrow (vacation mode, much?). In the meantime, I'll tease you with today's adventures.

We boarded a small tour boat for the Elaphiti Islands today for an all-day excursion. The boat hosted maybe 35 people or so, most of them deeply tanned Europeans on holiday. The three islands that we visited were rich with history, featuring Roman-esque ruins and some old stone structures from the early 1600s. On our final stop in Lopud, Lloyd and I took a long walk along the shore and around the back of an old church on a hill. There we found a semi-private area - complete with lawn chairs - to sun ourselves and swim in the Adriatic. The Adriatic is easily swimmable - I haven't had time to Google (or Bing) this info, but it seems hyper-salinated, almost as if the salt is carrying you along. It takes very little effort to swim what would feel like a very long distance in Lake Washington, or even in the Atlantic or Pacific along North America. I absolutely love it, except you must take care not to step on the spiny black urchins that cling to the rocks. Spine tally from today: 1 in Courtney's big toe, 4 in Lloyd's.

Speaking of Lloyd, I left him in our soba to write this post. I'm fixing to fetch him, and then we have three competing options for tonight: a big-time fashion show which our host tells us is very important to Dubrovnik; an outdoor movie inside the walls of the old town, or the Dubrovnik Symphony Orchestra. One thing is certain: I gotta lay off the mojitos tonight.

Dubrovnik: We Happy

Hi all,

Lloyd and I have been here for one full day, and we've fallen in love with the Old Town of Dubrovnik. Go look it up right now. Seriously. The photos don't even do it justice. Okay, we'll help you out: click on this. We promise to link to a Flickr page or something similar with our photos tomorrow or the day after, but it's tough to even sit here for 20 minutes when we could be doing something cool out on the Stradun.

So far, we've eaten gelato, walked the whole of the old city, had drinks at a bar built right into the rocks overlooking the Adriatic, shared a rich pasta dish at Spaghetteria Toni, ambled along the city walls, and happily swam in the emerald-blue waters of the Adriatic. Every once in a while, we stop for a fresh juice or a smoothie, and we're a couple of darned happy honeymooners.

We're staying at a soba, which is an accommodation in a private home. These are delightful alternatives to the more impersonal and seriously expensive hotels. Lidija (pronounced Lidia), our host, greeted us warmly yesterday and left a notepad-page full of suggestions for us this morning. On her tip, we're taking a boat to the islands of Sipan, Lopud and Kolocep tomorrow, where we will walk around the rustic islands, eat a fresh-fish lunch (head still on, people) and do some more swimming in the Adriatic. I can't get enough.

Okay, Lloyd is eager to eat some octopus salad. We're off to dinner. Thanks to each and every one of you that treated us to some of the experiences we've had on our honeymoon so far. Please know that your contribution to our registry is well-used and very much appreciated. Much love to all.

Georgia Parties

Well, we have just about finished the Georgia portion of our trip. We are relaxing at home before we fly out this evening for Croatia. I have now met Courtney's extended family and her closest friends from Athens, Atlanta, and Michigan. I was touched at how quickly and thoroughly they accepted me as part of the family.

Courtney's parents, Pam and Gary, threw us a party at their home in Marietta on Friday night. The food was fantastic (authentic Cajun/Southern cuisine), and the company was great. Booze flowed freely, and people really enjoyed themselves.

We had some professional photos taken, thanks to Courtney's friend Shannah who is a photographer. We'll have those to share shortly. Here are a few taken with our point and shoots.

The next day we traveled to Athens, which is the town where Courtney went to college at the University of Georgia, and lived for 7.5 years of her life. She has made many friends there, so we decided to have a party there as well. This party was just for the "young" people -- no parents, aunts or uncles allowed. We started at the East-West Bistro, where we again had fantastic catered food, and the beer and wine flowed. Afterward, we headed out for "Athfest," which is a local music festival that happened to be on the same weekend. The party ended up at a bar called Little Kings, where everybody decided they wanted to buy the bride and groom as many drinks as possible. It wasn't a debaucherous night, but we definitely got a little silly. I have many great photos of that night, including series of photos we named "Annie are you OK?", "Mail-Order Brides", "We're Cousins!!", and "The Hat Trick." We won't post all of these right now, but here are a few of the more tame ones for your enjoyment.