Unfinished Business

May 18, 2005-Evaluating

You knew I wasn’t finished didn’t you? We woke at 5:30AM, which wasn’t too bad since we went to bed at 9PM the night before. We left Judi Cope’s in Washington, DC and had at least six hours to discuss the trip on the drive home.

A few things that were mentioned were the lack of security at the airport in Croatia. Frankfort had more stringent precautions. David thought it might be for flights going to the U.S. The funny thing was that as they x-rayed our carry-on they didn’t recognize an item. I explained what it was and they took my word without opening the luggage. Judi, on the other hand, had all items in her hand baggage unzipped, searched, and scrutinized. I guess she looks suspicious. We talked about how hard it was to get ahead in Slovenia and Croatia. Most people live on the land or in apartments that have been in the family for generations. If they own a house they keep adding to it as families get larger.

It’s almost impossible for a Serb or Croat to identify the other at a glance. The physical differences are subtle if detectible at all. Our guide mentioned that there were differences between Serbian Orthodox and Roman Catholicism. She listed a few that didn’t seem to be a reason to go to war: more or less use of candles and incense by one group, leather rosaries versus beads, Julian or Gregorian calendars.

As we stopped along the interstate we knew that we weren’t in Slovenia or Croatia anymore. We were struck by how dirty our restaurants and toilets are by comparison.

Now to the debate as to whether we prefer group to independent travel: In favor of group travel:

There are others to talk to; no responsibility for luggage, flights, meals, glitches thus less personal tension; better class hotels; time saved by not getting lost; home hosted dinner with local family; luggage handling; no fear of being ripped-off by cab drivers; pre-screened rest stops; orientation to the place we’re staying (where ATMs & post offices are)

Against group travel:

Feeling of being herded; only around seniors; moved too fast or too slow when seeing sites-couldn’t set own pace; not being able to interact with locals on a daily basis; no satisfaction of fending for ourselves; no chance to find Laundromat; higher food cost when dining away from the group since most wanted a fancier meal than we did; a feeling that we’re just not seeing it all.
All in all it was a fun trip but I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who hasn’t seen most of the world first. There are a lot more interesting places to go and most of the people on the tour had been to those places.

I’m nesting in now. I’ve done three loads of laundry and have read the mail. Thanks for listening.
Toby

Pig

May 17, 2005-Getting Home
(photos:Farwelling Friends)

My record is intact. Our hotel was built on the side of a hill. Reception was on the 9th floor. Our room was on the 6th. The dining room was on the 7th. I consistently chose the wrong direction on the stairs and pushed the wrong button when calling the elevator. Even when I thought about it I chose incorrectly. Fortunately I either had others with me to help me re-direct or I only went astray by one level.

I feel sad that so many pigs died in vain. We were at breakfast at 5:30AM and had bag breakfasts. They included ham and cheese sandwiches. We didn’t starve since the bags also contained hard-boiled eggs, yogurt, and apples. There was also the usual breakfast buffet available so we filched some stuff from that. Soon after we boarded the two-hour Croatia Airlines flight to Frankfurt we were served breakfast. It was ham slices. We tried to give it away but had no takers.

When we got to Frankfurt I was comforted to see that the Germans are becoming like the rest of the world. There was confusion as to what transport desk we needed and the rest rooms were filthy. There’s hope for them.

I fully expected the movie would be Ocean’s 13 or some such. I hoped that Hollywood didn’t make the Ocean’s 12 sequel to taunt us while we were gone. We lucked out. The three movies were Phantom of the Opera, National Treasure, and Neverland. We’d only seen the last one.

We landed at Dulles early and breezed through customs. We plan a light dinner of “American” food like Thai or something.

We drive back to Akron tomorrow. Hope you’ve enjoyed these. When we checked in with Wendy she thanked us for the history lesson.

Toby

War Torn

May 16, 2005-Long Memories
(photos:Walking on the wall,
Main St. Dubrovnik,
Still ruins)

This is our last day in Dubrovnik. The Adriatic twinkled and winked at us around every curve as our bus delivered us to the old city. We took the two-hours necessary to walk the wall and listen to the audio explanations. The views were best from up top. We were able to be voyeurs and peek into the private lives of the natives. There was laundry hanging, bedding being aired, satellite dishes and TV antennas sticking up from old red tile roofs, flowered-filled roof gardens and balconies, and a bird’s eye view into school rooms. We had pizza once again at Pizzeria Don Coreleone then took a last walk through the streets.

We stopped in at the War Photo Museum commemorating the most recent civil strife. Color photos leaped out at us and there was no avoiding the controversial point being made. The gruesome, brutal, and sometimes poignant shots illustrated the ordeal of the Croats. A short film emphasized the rancor that still exists. It showed the opening of the exhibit in Serbia where Serbs and Croats verbally battled over the fairness of the depictions. Serbs reminded the Croats that they were the ones who fought the Nazis in 1941 during WWII while the Croats only had a few partisans and were collaborators with the Italians. The Croats answered that history didn’t end in 1941. When we left David had a feeling that the war wasn’t over in the minds of the people and that a tight lid was needed to keep the peace.

The group had dinner at Proto, a seafood restaurant. Somehow we escaped without having to have special food made for us. Everyone enjoyed a delicious vegetarian risotto appetizer with turkey as the main. Dessert was flan.

Most people in our group are coughing. I think they have whatever Drago, the first driver, had. It sounds like a TB ward. To add interest, two British sisters, one of whom lives in the U.S., had their purses sprayed by a stray cat yesterday. We were staying far away from them but their bags were scrubbable and they’re no longer referred to as the “stinky sisters.”

You’ll be proud to know that I won the contest to pronounce “prijestolonasljednica.” I’ll be happy to demonstrate when I return. The prize was an embroidered cloth and red ceramic tile trivet.

Our wake-up call is at 5:15AM. I’ll probably send this email to you from Washington, DC. We’re spending the night at Judi Cope’s when we arrive. See you in Akron.

Toby

Montenegro

May 15, 2005-Luck & Curses
(Photos:St. Tripun,
Restaurant Jadran)

Montenegro sounds so exotic. I always associated it with intrigue and romantic liaisons. The road there still followed the Alps and subjected us to two more sedentary hours. Viki filled us in on the islands we were passing. Lokrun Island had an interesting story. Black robed Benedictine monks were there when Napoleon arrived in 1806. He abolished the Republic of Dubrovnik and wanted the island for France. He sent three messengers to tell the monks to leave. Before the messengers arrived the monks circled the island carrying candles dripping wax and praying that God would curse anyone who came after they left. Maximilian of the Hapsburgs arrived only to be later killed in Mexico. Rudolph of the Hapsburgs came and eventually committed suicide. A group of Croats bought it and went bankrupt. It’s now a nudist beach and called Love Island. It has gone from people having bad luck to getting lucky.

Slavic tribes who settled there in the 7th century were fierce, proud, and patriotic. The same holds today. Society is still organized by tribes and there is a saying that “man is born tired and lives to rest.”

Viki gave us a more garbled rundown than usual but did recommend that we read Black Land and Gray Flacon by Rebecca West. In brief: Phoenicians, Illyrians, Greeks, Romans, Catholics, Orthodox, Turks, and Venetians. In 1878 they appointed their own prince-bishop and a military democracy (oxymoron) based on tribal structure was formed. Eventually there was King Nikola who ruled fifty-eight years and had eleven children. During WWI Montenegro fought alongside Serbians and Nikola fled to France. His daughters ended up marrying into European royalty. Montenegro was chosen by Italy to be Italian for WWII then disappeared into Yugoslavia.

It was dicey crossing the border into Montenegro. We were told not to say a word if the authorities came on the bus but they didn’t. It’s a nervous peace and is the only border Albanians can cross to get to Croatia and a better life. Montenegro is the smallest region of the former Yugoslavia with a population of 60,000. Signs are in Cyrillic and Latin letters to accommodate the Serbs, Croats, and Muslims who live there and the Russians on vacation. It’s a rundown poor sister of Serbia and has a long way to go to be accepted into the EU. Montenegro is a satellite of Serbia and its only port. The Serbian Orthodox religion and the Serbo-Croatian language link them. When the dinar was devalued and inflation was rampant the government decided to convert to the Euro. Overnight a truckload of Euros was delivered to Serbia and the dinar was replaced. There are few stores that accept Croatian kunas but all take Euros.

We first visited Kotor on the bay of the same name. The city walls are a UNESCO site and were heavily damaged in the earthquake of 1979 and subsequently rebuilt. It looked as picturesque as many towns we’ve seen until we got off the bus. It was garbage-strewn, in need of repair, and riddled with gypsies who were eager to fleece us.

Bells rang the end of Mass as we strolled towards the Church of St.Triphun. It was originally Romanesque but has had many incarnations and is now also Gothic and Renaissance. Some of its pillars are built from blocks of red marble and soar in groups of four clustered back-to-back. Relics of the saint were brought in 1809 and there are ornate filigree altarpieces and hanging candelabra. The most interesting event today was the christening of a year old gorgeous blond boy who enjoyed the water being poured over his head and wanted to grab hold of the candle.
The next church was the Orthodox Church of St. Nikola built in 1909. The inside front wall of icons was stunning but the incense and smoke from all the candles drove us out.

Budva

It was 45-minutes and a drive through a long unlit tunnel to get to Budva. I had heard of Budva and again thought of it as a place of mystery. There was no mystery to the smells and dirt. The Restaurant Jadran was an oasis. It was on the waterfront and tried to make the bleak surroundings more appealing with flowers and fountains. Pork steak and proscuitto was served so we got a plate of assorted cheeses and beefsteak. It was greasy but filling. Dessert was a close cousin of baklava in a triangular shape. It was so full of honey it could have been rung out without altering the taste. We walked along the graffiti marred walls built by Austrians in 1836 without much of a narrative by Viki. I don’t know why they didn’t hire a local guide. Perhaps there isn’t much to learn, but that’s hard to believe. A Japanese tour group seemed to go off in a different direction with much commentary and purpose.

A ferry ride shortened our return trip. Viki took the time to review where we’d been, what we’d seen, and what special touches she had provided for us. Tipping time is near.

We were on our own tonight. The bus took us to the old city and we ate at Ragusa 2. Laura Lee tackled scampi in the shell. She was ruthless about tearing the heads off. I had pasta Bolognese, Judi and David had highly spiced pepper steak that was excellent. Laura Lee threw the waiter when she tried to write the tip on her charge receipt. He was politely apoplectic but insisted that he wanted cash on the table. Laura Lee said she’s disappointed that this is the first night she hasn’t had ice cream. We’re sitting in our room as I am writing and enjoying the last of the pear brandy.

Tomorrow is a free day. We’ll most likely return to the old city and walk the parapets.

Toby

Dubrovnik

May 14, 2005-Typical Story
(photos:Slavonian parade,
Dinner hosts,
New dances)

As group tours go, this is a great bunch of people. All forty are punctual, polite, and there is not a loudmouth or complainer.

Our city guide for Dubrovnik, Lydia, was small of stature and voice. She was competing against guides for the few thousand visitors from cruise ships that docked today. She managed to get her information across one way or another. I frequently had to ask others to repeat for me so I could take notes for the emails.

She told us that Dubrovnik has a population of 24,000 with 2,000 living in the old city. The main economy is tourism. There are three distinct districts: old city, port, and business. Property goes for about $6,000 per square meter or ten square feet. She said that the Irish were buying up the condos.

By now you know the drill. Greeks settled 132 mile away from here. Romans followed and called it Epidaurus. Romans were attacked by Slavs and Croats who moved the site of the town to Dubrovnik in 1272. They immediately built city walls that were completed by the 13th century. They had an extensive fleet and traded in salt, which they produced from the saltpans in the shallow waters of the Adriatic. As a republic whose churches were mostly Franciscan, Jesuits, favorites of the pope, were invited in by the rector. In gratitude the pope declared Dubrovnik off-limits from attack by other Catholic countries. After an earthquake in 1667 it took 100 years before the city was rebuilt. Instead of vertical walls, the new ones were sloped to more easily repel weapons using new technology: cannon balls and bullets. Most of what’s visible today is 18th century Baroque. The golden age of the independent republic of Dubrovnik lasted 200 years. It came to a close in 1806 with the arrival of Napoleon. Although his presence is still felt, his aqueducts weren’t as substantial as the Romans. None exist today. The Hapsburgs came on the scene and kept everyone in line until WWI.

UNESCO Preservation

I was awed by the state of preservation of this UNESCO World Heritage site. It seemed untouched by time and war. I did notice that its builders did have to use mortar to secure the walls, but they withstood mortar attacks in 1995. When we were told that after each disaster the site was rebuilt it wasn’t so impressive anymore.

It was smaller than I expected as we crossed the drawbridge over the moat in which orange trees now grow, entered the walls, and walked through the Pile Gate. The gate used to be locked at night and the key delivered to the palace of the rector. The original city had a hospital, covered sewers, orphanage, and a pharmacy. Mothers brought babies to the orphanage at night and anonymously put them in a turn-style so the nuns could take them in. Orphans were cared for until age six when they were given to masters as servants. The pharmacy is still operating in the same spot in the monastery.

The Rector's Palace was rebuilt after sustaining damage in the 1979 earthquake. The ground floor housed a prison and the upper floor held the residence and offices. Rectors were elected monthly by the senate and served only a month. They moved into the palace and weren’t permitted to leave the building during their term. Their families didn’t join them. Diplomacy was dicey in those days. Lydia told us that two diplomats were assigned to Istanbul. When their time was served two more were sent. Those in Istanbul weren’t allowed to leave until their replacements came. One time the replacements were late and the diplomats in place were beheaded by order of the sultan.

The minute David entered the old city he said he felt as if he was at Disney World: Epcot to be specific. There were hoards of people blindly following guides who carried numbers or umbrellas. He said he fully expected a parade at noon. It came at 11:00 when dancers and singers in Slavonian native dress marched to the square for some festivities.

We were directed to the synagogue so we could see it during free time. There are forty-five Jews left in Dubrovnik. Services are only held when the rabbi comes from Zagreb. Jews arrived in the 15th century motivated by Spain and the Inquisition. We sat in the oldest Sephardic synagogue that has been in continuous use and said a spontaneous sh’heceyanu with other Jewish tourists. The museum contained several Torah scrolls. One was from 13th century Spain brought during the Inquisition. Although accepted as full citizens when they came, by 1540, Jews were ordered to move into a small area and wear badges that distinguished them from Christians. Hitler didn’t have an original thought. But during WWII the Jews of Dubrovnik gave their treasures to a few Christian families for safekeeping. Those cherished pieces eventually returned to the Jewish community. They were taken to the U.S. for exhibit by a member of the Jewish community who decided to stay there with them. It took ten years and lots of lawsuits to get them back. We ate pizza, shopped, and were unconcerned that we missed our tour bus to the hotel. We caught a city bus and it was an easy 15-minute ride back.

Hospitality

Dinner was home hospitality. Our tour bus of forty people drove forty minutes and descended on the village of Gromaca where four homes were open to us for dinner. The village numbers one hundred thirty and most are related. That’s the condensed version. What actually happened was that our bus had to traverse a single-lane winding uphill road and weave around, between, and practically over vehicles in our way. At one point we had to back down a portion of the hill so a semi could back into a vacant lot and we could proceed.

Our hosts lived in a newer house surrounded by very old outbuildings, farmland and orchards. They host dinners for Grand Circle twice a week. We were greeted with grappa and dried figs. Everything we ate was grown and made at their home. We visited the smokehouse where ham was curing and the winery. Dinner started with proscuitto, two kinds of homemade cheese, and pickled vegetables. Carafes of wine and baskets of bread were plentiful and accompanied our meal of grilled pork, sausage, and chicken. Dessert was apple strudel. Remember, this was all homegrown including the pigs and chickens that gave their lives for us.

The 18-year-old daughter was our translator. She told us she was graduating from high school in Dubrovnik then going to university for four years to become an elementary teacher. She wants to return to the area to teach. We all had a good laugh when she helped us pronounce “prijestolonasljednica” the word Viki will offer a reward for if said correctly. Then we told her about “antidisestablishmentarianism.”

She told us that during the war most of her village was shelled. She was only five when she and her mother fled to Istria and stayed in one of the hotels open to refugees. Her father fought in the Croatian army as a partisan. Serbs and Montenegrins occupied their home while they were gone and burned it before they left. Others in the village put out the flames, but her grandfather was devastated when he returned and saw the damage done to the house he built. He didn’t get out of bed for years and never recognized anyone in the family again. She was philosophical and said that now they have an even better house.

After dinner we went to another house where we were treated to demonstrations of local dances accompanied by music played on an old fiddle-like instrument. We made music of our own as we rolled down the hills toward the hotel. I think Viki wanted to take our minds off the treacherous road so she asked us to sing songs from our country. We started with America, went to Dixie, and ended with mildly sophomoric dirty bar ditties. By the time we entered the lobby of the hotel we were doing the chicken dance, electric slide, and Macarena.

Tomorrow we have a long day trip to Montenegro. I’m not sure they have stopped fighting there.

Toby

Split

May 13, 2005-Now
(photos:Diocletian's Palace,
Viki in gondola)

Still no Internet access but we have Maraska pear brandy so I don’t care. It almost made the 140-mile ride from Split to Dubrovnik during our 2nd day on the bus bearable. I’ve been trying to figure out how this tour could be run without the long stretches but the only way is to fly & that’s too costly.

Our city guide in Split was Damir. His English was impeccable even though he learned it all in Croatia and has never been to an English speaking country. He speaks five languages and says that German is his best. He brought us up to speed on modern Split. It has the youngest population of all Croatia with an average age of twenty-four. It’s the sports center of Europe and even though housing is dear buildings may only have sixteen stories. Winds coming off the mountains can be up to 100 mph and that’s all the structures can stand.

Then

The two-hour walking tour of the Palace of Diocletian was incredible. Diocletian was born in Salona in 237, the only son of slaves. Salona grew to be the official capital of the Roman colonies of the area. He joined the Roman Legion at the age of majority for boys, fourteen. He rose to the highest rank and when Rome needed an emperor he was tapped. He was a pagan and persecuted Christians.

When he abdicated the throne he moved back to his roots. The palace was built in ten years by 20,000 slaves one third of whom died during its construction. Diocletian died in Split in 316 leaving the legacy of being the only pagan retired emperor of Rome.

It’s thought that two Greek architects designed the 260,000 square feet of palace space 1700 years ago. Although it’s called a palace it was more like a fortress with government buildings, housing, stores, military barracks, and royal quarters within the walls. Diocletian insisted that his living quarter be over the sea and fifteen per cent of the structure meets that requirement. The architects built his quarters on the 2nd floor and suspended it over the Adriatic. In order to support it they built a ground level “basement” with portals that allowed the sea to rush in under his apartments at high tide. It only amounted to a variation of a foot since the tides in this region aren’t great, but water lines left after storms were over ten feet high. Somehow the enormous blocks that were the walls were held in place by their own weight and survived with no mortar to secure them. The upper walls and ceilings of stone and brick were cemented with a combination of sand, water, ground limestone, and egg whites.

Diocletian fancied himself the son of Jupiter and was enamored with things Egyptian. The palace was home to many Sphinx that symbolized immortality. Early Christians broke most of their heads and paws to destroy their pagan powers. The peristyle courtyard and crossroads of the palace is well preserved including the mausoleum of Diocletian. It has been in constant use since he was interred. Early Christians destroyed his tomb and threw his ashes out but it’s still used daily as a Roman Catholic Church. The carved entry doors are from 1214 and resemble bronze doors of the Duomo in Florence. The difference is that the ones here are wood. Garish light bulbs hang over them with the numbers 304-2005. Those dates refer to the span of years since the first bishop died.

The palace wasn’t allowed to enjoy a peaceful demise. In 612 Salona was attacked and people fled to the palace for shelter. They settled in and started building their homes and more stores against the walls and between the buildings inside the palace. Venetians continued the custom until they ran out of room for garbage. It was easy to remove pieces of floor and dump trash into the still empty “basements” until those too filled up. The trash heaps kept the lower level intact until 1956, when archeologists began excavating. Nothing of importance was found but with the upper level in shambles from over-building, they were able to see the exact layout of the original rooms since floors of buildings in those days echoed the ones above them. There are still people who live in the medieval houses wedged between the 1700-year-old palace structures and who drink water from Roman aqueducts. It encompasses most of the old city of Split and bustles with shops and businesses sequestered into a UNESCO treasure. We could have stayed there all day, but our bus was leaving. The only consolation was that we got to sit on the Adriatic side of the bus this time.

Bosnia to Dubrovnik

Back to the pear brandy. Viki didn’t tell us in advance that we’d be stopping at a discount store on the way to Dubrovnik. If she had we might have waited to make some purchases. In any case, she gave us tastes of the brandy and we were hooked. Did I mention that it was in a Bosnian discount store? We didn’t realize it but we had to go through a tiny piece of Bosnia-Herzegovina to get to Dubrovnik. Num is the only Bosnian seashore left. It’s a resort comprised of rich Germans, Austrians, and their yachts.

We rode along the Dalmatian Coast parallel to the island where Marco Polo was born until we got to the village of Komin where Viki was born. There was no electricity when she was growing up tending her family cows, crops, and citrus trees. Her brother still lives there, cares for the farm, and is the town postman. He and his wife met our bus bearing fritoles (beignets) for all. Viki almost caused a stampede when she got into the old family gondola and paddled along the river. All forty of us were on the other side of the busy highway and we charged over for the photo-op.
After our last pit stop at a “smiling room” we were anxious to get to the Hotel Palace. The guides call rest rooms smiling rooms because we go in looking worried but come out smiling. Dubrovnik took heavy shelling during the war. Our hotel at the tip of the Lapad Peninsula was an easy target. Rebuilt last year it’s now a luxurious resort with all rooms facing the sea.

It was Shabbat tonight and we invited all the Jewish people on the tour to our room. There were fifteen in all. Judi Cope brought a loaf of bread that served as challah. Laura Lee supplied the pear brandy. We had traveling Shabbat candleholders and candles. We said the blessings, sang mi-shaberach, and said Kaddish. Judi Cope had yahrzeit for her father and Bob Epstein for both his parents.

Tomorrow we start at the late hour of 9A.M. for a twenty-minute drive into Dubrovnik and a walking city tour. It will end at lunch and we’ll have several hours to wander the streets and walk on the old city walls before our bus comes to fetch us.

Toby

Transition

May 12, 2005-Historical Perspective
(photos:At home on Dalmatian Coast,
On the Riva seaside promenade)

Sunny days chasing the clouds away! No, we are not on Sesame Street, but the fickle Mediterranean sun has returned for our 240-mile ride to Split. Viki started the morning by reading from The Lonely Planet. It said that Croatia is the #1 destination this year. Then she read a list of the best sites and museums. We have not and will not see most of them. Museums are to “see during free time if you want to” according to the guide. Viki pointed out a “very well preserved Roman fort” that was mentioned in passing. We did not stop. I’m not sure but that attitude may sway my opinion against Grand Circle and group touring.

Viki gave a disjointed history lecture starting 5,000 years ago with the Illyrians (Indo-Iranians) who came from Persia through Russia to here. They called the region Delmatine thus the Dalmatian Coast. The Dalmatian dog is a thoroughbred of the area. The Illyrians beat the Romans who arrived to the Split area in 229 BC. The Illyrian language is thought to be close to Albanian. Bosnian Muslims are converts of the Turks who were not Arabs and still make that clear distinction. Never tranquil politically, as you read in the email from yesterday, Yugoslavia (meaning Southern Slavs) was host to a large concentration camp during WWII. There’s a memorial where 600,000 are said to be buried. Viki told us that number is in dispute and there may “only” be 60-100,000 dead. The Croatian president did travel to Israel for a formal apology.

The troubles from 1991-1999 started in 1990, when Slovenia saw the handwriting on the wall and seceded from Yugoslavia. Not to be outdone, the Croats tried the same. Unfortunately, most of the Yugoslavian army in Croatia was comprised of Serbs who disagreed that there should be a free Croatia. The six distinct republics that made up the artificial unity of Yugoslavia (Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Macedonia, Montenegro, Bosnia-Herzegovina) couldn’t come together on politics or a common language. Serbo-Croatian was the front-runner but which alphabet to use was up for grabs: Cyrillic or Latin.

On Easter Sunday of 1991, Serbs led by Milosevic, attacked. Hundreds of thousands of Croats fled to the coast where they lived as refugees in hotels. Some are afraid to return to their ethnic homes and are still in the hotels. The bloodiest battle occurred in Vukovar where a three-month siege left remnants of survivors. Remaining civilians including hospital patients were summarily shot and buried in mass graves. In 1995 Croatia drove the Serbians back and held elections. The Croats turned the tables on the Serbs and did ethnic cleansing of their own. In the end 10,000 Croats were dead and Serbians annexed 25% of Croatia. It’s now a democratic republic with a parliament and is trying to enter the EU. Simultaneously there was a round robin of fighting with and within an even more diverse Bosnia

Viki read to us from a diary she kept during the war. Her husband was too old for the army but was able to work as an electrician. Her daughter was ten at the time and went to school when it was open. Viki was unemployed as tourism dried up. They lived the best they could between air raids and were fortunate that Rijeka was never bombed or shelled. During our drive today we saw shelled villages and the furious re-building. There is no compulsory military service in Croatia now, but there is a six-month public service requirement.

Sea Side

The Croatian Alps to our north became a stark landscape of limestone and dolomite as it escorted us with the Adriatic to the south. Restaurant Vicko was a mediocre lunch destination near the national park of Velabit on the Island of Pag. The fish was strong tasting and the Bolognese was average. Ice-cream cones were dessert but they didn’t offer chocolate or coffee. I ate soup and bread. There was a banana waiting in our backpack on the bus and that rounded out the food for me.

Those sitting on the sea side of the bus today had to sign their names on a list so that tomorrow the rest of us can take their places and enjoy the view. Viki asked that they not use their Christian names when they sign the list. Several of the Jewish passengers mentioned that wouldn’t be a problem for them since they had no Christian names.

During a stop at the scenic overlook at Sibonik Viki pointed out what looked like white balls in the water. Mussel and oyster farming is done on strings going down into the water from those balls. We also saw fish farms, plant nurseries, and most homes had vegetable gardens instead of front lawns. Split only had a population of 20,000 after WWII, but is bursting at the seams now with 250,000. It was named “asphallato” (Scottish heather) by the Greeks. The yellow flowering shrub covers the hills in spring. We rounded the bend into a suburb, Salona, where Diocletian was born, and came upon the blinding white high rises jutting between the aquamarine blue sea and sky. Our hotel is from the Communist era but has been re-furbished. It’s not up to the standards of the others we’ve stayed in but is certainly fine at a three-star rating despite a moldy rubber shower mat. We all have sea views so are not complaining.

Dinner was at the hotel and it was lasagna with ice-cream dessert. Again no chocolate or coffee. I will cope. We briefly walked along the Riva, a promenade, with the locals. It was the most littered area we have experienced. We returned to the hotel for another abortive attempt to send you email. This time we laboriously got onto AOL only to have it tell us that the page to get our mail could not be opened.

Tomorrow we take a walking tour through the Palace of Diocletian before the 140-mile drive to Dubrovnik.

Toby

Istrian Peninsula

May 11, 2005- Catching Up
(photos:On walk to dinner,
Rovinj,
Disinterested horse,
Amphitheater in Pula)

Last night we walked a half hour along the promenade next to the Adriatic to the town of Volosko. We ate at Plavi Podrum. It means blue cellar. It was an upscale white tablecloth restaurant specializing in seafood. They wheeled the dead fish over to the tables on an ice filled cart, but Judi Cope was the only one who indulged. She had seafood risotto. David had a steak in pepper sauce and I had pasta Bolognese. They brought a starter of sardines marinated in olive oil and a bean salad on the house. I’m glad we had the long walk to and from. David left a PFLAG card as usual. It says, “Your business has just been supported by a relative or friend of a gay man or lesbian. We will continue to support businesses that do not discriminate against them.” The waiter, an older gentleman, followed us outside to thank us for the card. After dinner we wandered uphill through the town and were pleased to find ourselves in a real neighborhood. There were views to oooh and aaah over but it was too dark for pictures.

Rovinj Our driver,Drago, is sick so Vojo took over. He started for the Istrian Peninsula in the rain but brought us back in sunshine. Viki said it would’t be so green here if there was no rain. Our weather karma could be worse. It snowed in Bled last night.

Romans took over from Greeks and colonized Rovinj in 177 BC. They enslaved the locals or intermarried until they were tossed aside by Byzantines who built lots of churches. All the while Slavic tribes were moving down from the Carpathian Mts. The 7-8th centuries brought the French, and in the 13th century Venetians staked their claim. The Tartars entered the scene and Ottomans settled inland. Austria left its mark along the coast. In the 19th century Napoleon thought it would be good to add Slovenia, Croatia, and Dubrovnik to his collection. It was the first time Dubrovnik surrendered to anyone. In the late 1800’s the Hapsburgs were in residence followed by the Fascists. The Italians loved the Istrian Peninsula and appropriated it. They still think it should be theirs and everything is bilingual. Istrians served in the Italian army in WWII and get Italian pensions.

Josip Broz, nicknamed Tito, was one of ten children born to a Slovenian mother and Croat father. His nickname, which he got as a young man, means one who is bossy. He was an apprentice locksmith before enlisting in the Austrian army. Impressed by the Russian revolution and Lenin he formed an illegal Communist Party at age thirty. At the time Yugoslavia was run by one family who fled when Hitler came in 1941. After WWII Tito became a guerilla fighter and was eventually appointed Marshall and President for Life. He had three wives during his lifetime: Austrian, Russian, and Serbian. He died in 1980 and is still fondly thought of.

Our welcome to Rovinj was at the public toilet. One of our group couldn’t figure out how to get the electric-eye water spigot to work and asked the young male attendant for help. When he showed her how to do it she was impressed. He responded by telling her that he knew because Jesus knew. Then we noticed that the book he was reading and highlighting in bright yellow was the Bible. I wasn’t aware that Jesus was into high tech.

Rovinj is the quintessential medieval town. Its 13,000 people live in a fairyland of cobblestones, winding streets, tile roofs, iron balconies, open-air markets, and souvenir shops. We hiked uphill to the 5th century church of St. Eufemja (Euphemia). The poor girl was tortured on the rack then thrown to lions that didn’t eat her. She died of her injuries. Somehow her sarcophagus found its way from Italy to the shores of Rovinj. If that wasn’t miracle enough two young boys with the help of two cows found the strength to haul it to the top of the hill where the church now sits. We chose to shop on our way back down the hill rather than take the scenic route. We didn’t buy anything wonderful but enjoyed being on our own and poking into quaint corners.

We lunched at a farmhouse where we enjoyed minestrone soup, goulash with gnocchi fussily made from potato dough and sauerkraut. Dessert was fritoles, fried dough with raisins inside and dusted with powered sugar. They were a lot like beignets. I talked to some horses in the pasture after we ate but they weren’t interested in anything I could give them to eat. They were content to graze amidst clover and wild poppies.

Pula

Pula, a city of 60,000, is at the end of the peninsula and is famous for having the 6th largest Roman amphitheater in Europe. The guide told us that there’s only one Coliseum and it’s in Rome. Built in the 1st or 2nd century BC this amphitheater is near the sea for accessibility to ships that brought the fighting animals. The surrounding three-story shell is the original from 71 BC. It’s made of pure white limestone that sparkled like marble in the sun when new. Lead coated iron re-bars were used inside the stones as support. Pula didn’t warrant real marble. It held 23,000 spectators all of whom were admitted and fed for free. The catch was they were charged for the toilets. The steps in the entrances were high even for us and the people of that era were much shorter. There were no guards so the risers were built to slow down the rush of the crowds when the gates opened. Only the nobility and rich sat on the lower level. The middle held the merchants; slaves and women were allowed to climb to the third floor where they stood to watch the games. The contests lasted all day so sailors were hired to climb to the top and unfurl cotton sails to protect spectators from the sun. If it rained waxed fabric was used. We walked under the walls where animals were kept and gladiators waited to enter. There was an elevator system to carry them to the arena level for a grand entrance.

The games can be traced back to Etruscans. When an important person died they killed someone to accompany him in the after-life. The Romans originally only had contests to the death when a nobleman died. I guess they liked it so much it expanded. No Christians were killed at the amphitheater in Pula. Traditionally female gladiators were permitted to fight each other but that didn’t take place in Pula either. Animals were fed before contests and were usually killed in the arena. Gladiators mostly killed each other. Dead gladiators were cremated not fed to the animals. If gladiators fought and survived four years they were given their freedom and enough money to set them up in business. The games ended in 404 BC.

We ate dinner at the Kaneta, a restaurant that was accessible by climbing a long steep hill. It was worth it. David had streak and I had turkey both in Gorgonzola and mushroom sauce. Laura Lee and Judi Cope had green tagliatelli and turkey in a cream sauce.

The one computer in town that could read our floppy disk couldn’t get onto the Internet tonight. This email will catch you up.

Tomorrow we have an all day drive to Split for an overnight stay.

Toby