Day 1
The morning after the
Christmas celebration Justin and I woke up fairly early because I hoped to get
to Mostar, Bosnia by that night. We made our final preparations before heading
out and stopping to buy some goodies for the road. I filled up a gallon zip-lock
bag with a mixture of pretzels, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, spicy peanuts,
raisins, m & m’s, walnuts, and dried banana slices. We then hopped on a van
to take us north to Shkoder. From there we walked to the city center and got a
taxi to Ulcinj, Montenegro to get a bus to the capital of Podgorica. With how
busy I was in the weeks leading up to Christmas, I had little time to plan so I
only planned out a destination itinerary and made sure that there were suitable
connection available. Therefore, most of the time that I was awake during
transport was used to read up on the places we were going and come up with a
plan of attack.
When we arrived in
Podgorica, I found out that there was not a bus to Bosnia until evening so we
would have to spend the day in the city despite the guidebook saying there was
nothing to see. When I asked the information desk what they recommended to see,
one lady said there was a shopping mall nearby. We decided to walk toward the
city center and stumbled upon the landmark mall and took a peek inside. The
mall was modern and the same as a nice mall in the US. Although it was nice to
see such development, I immediately noticed how almost every advertisement used
sex appeal. Looking from a balcony down into the coffee lounge, I saw that the
walls were covered with scantily clad women and I was saddened by the reality
that this is our modern westernized culture. From that point, I thought
critically about development in the Balkans because these countries are rapidly
modernizing, but it was obvious how material desires were what the people
believed represented a better life. With all of our development, our country
has some of the most serious problems because of materialism and this was now
being passed to the rest of the world.
We then walked down the
street to find something to eat and we saw a pizza sign above an apartment
building entrance and went to check it out. There were no more signs and only
dark hallways upstairs and downstairs, but the closest door did smell like
food. Justin and I paused to think if this plain white door could be the place.
I creaked the door to peer inside and only saw plain white walls and a kitchen.
I decided to venture inside to say hello and a voice called from the kitchen
saying, “telephone.” The lady emerged and, after some hand signals, I
understood that it was only a take-out establishment. However, we explained
that we were Americans and the lady gave us A Warm Welcome insisting
that we sit in the small living room. She knew no English, but tried to
communicate some things on the menu and we ordered two pizzas. Soon her two
sons and daughter came in, but none of them knew much English either. The
mother had asked me if I was a Serb before because she did not believe we were
Americans and then she said that I looked like Novak Djokovic, who is there
favorite athlete (Pan-Serbism). Then two friends of the oldest boy came in and
talked about us for a while before the one asked if we were Americans. He also
did not understand how Americans ended up in the living room.
Everyone sat down in the
living room and we began having a conversation through the translation by
Milos. The three friends were all studying economics at the university
together, but Milos had lived in Miami for a few months so he knew English. He
described how they had just woken up (3pm) because they were up late partying
like they do every night. The local university was very cheap and they did not
seem to take it very seriously. We talked about how clubbing seemed to be a
part of the Slavic culture in Eastern Europe because that is the main
entertainment. He told us that we were going to love Belgrade because that was
the party city of the Balkans. I asked them about Montenegrins and they said
that most people were lazy. I asked how everyone provided for themselves if
they did not take work or school seriously. Milos told us a local saying about
a Montenegrin man spending $500 a month even though he only makes $300, but you
should not ask where the money comes from. The government only collects a flat
rate 17% property tax so expenses are low. I asked about history and culture,
but they mostly insisted that the younger generation did not care about the old
tensions and wanted to get out of the country. We stayed there for a couple
hours and I noticed that they acted very casually in their home despite rarely
encountering foreigners. It was cool to get an inside look at a normal family
to see how they interacted and what they talked about.
We were encouraged to
visit the city center before leaving so we arranged to leave our bags and
return for dinner before catching our bus. We walked along the streets of what
seemed to be an average city finding some bridges across the river and an
interesting statue of a shirtless guitarist. The old part of the city consisted
of many bombed out houses and winding narrow streets that were quite dark at
night so we headed back for some sandwiches, but had only broken conversation
because Milos and friends had gone to get some breakfast. We thanked them for
welcoming us into our house and then boarded our night bus for Mostar. I got
some sleep but there was a young boy who wanted to play with a ball, we had to
wake up for border crossings, and I did not want to miss our stop.
I had been told that the
bus would stop in Mostar, but we were driving around the city and then the bus
driver stopped along the road. I mentioned the bus station but he shook his
head and pointed into the city saying, “City center, 6km.” We trudged off the
bus at 1:30 am and decided that we would walk into the city to find a hostel.
We walked with our thumbs out to grab a ride in, but no one stopped. Our
spirits remained fairly high as we made it into the old city center in an hour.
We took A Short Rest on the bridge to take in the old town
dimly lit in the middle of the night. This was the most famous bridge in the
Balkans because it was originally built by Suleiman the Magnificent in the 17th
century, but it was destroyed in 1993 by Croatians during the siege of the
city.
After a short walk
through the town, we looked for the hostels that I had listed in my book but
most of them were closed. We found a nice place, but the man said that there
was no room. I was very surprised that they were full in the winter but he
suggested a few other places. Everything was closed. We walked for hours
through the streets but everything seemed boarded up for winter. I remarked to
Justin that it felt like we were Mary and Joseph before Christmas and he was
excited because he had been thinking the same thing but was unsure about who
represented Mary and who was Joseph. My adventurous traveling confidence was
unraveling as I tried to solve these Riddles in the Dark. It was
4:30 am and we were about to give up and hope the bus station would be open to
rest, but then I walked past an open doorway and saw some lettering out of the
corner of my eye. I turned around and approached a door that said 0-24 hour
pension thinking it would be locked, but it was open. We walked upstairs and
found no one around. There was one door with the key in it so I decided that we
should stay there for the night and pay the owner in the morning. Justin was
uncomfortable at first, but we were very tired and I thought this may be
protocol for people arriving in the middle of the night. There was evening and
there was morning on the first day.
Day 2
We slept late into the
morning and then found the lady in charge who pointed to the room and we
signaled that we had slept there. She was surprised to know that we had arrived
so late, but it was no issue. We walked back to the bridge to take in the old
city during the day. The white cobblestone streets were lined with some
souvenir shops and Ottoman style architecture and it was interesting to see
people in the city since we only saw one man from Sweden and a guard at night.
There was a great view of the bridge and surrounding city from the garden of an
old mosque. The Clouds Burst forth in the morning light
above the bridge and the surrounding town. This was the only day we could see
clouds in the sky because the other days were covered with thick fog or totally
clear. Along the river, there was a lot of water flowing down from the mountain
through the tiered streets of the city in canals. It was quite quaint but
small, so we soon made our way to the bus station and caught a perfectly timed
12:55 pm bus to Sarajevo. During the journey, the road hugged the river valley
before going Over Hill and Under Hill through the twisting
roads and tunnels of the snowy Bosnian countryside. The scenery was very
similar with Albania until we began to climb in elevation and suddenly broke
into a wintry landscape. Being the eve of Christmas Eve, it was nice to have
snow.
When we arrived in
Sarajevo, I stopped at the information booth to ask at what time there were
buses to Belgrade, but the lady said that there were no buses. I knew there had
to be buses between these neighboring capital cities, but she insisted that
there was not. As we left the bus station, I realized that we were Not
At Home anymore because the snow-covered bustling city was different
than anything in Albania and I knew nothing about what to do next. I asked
about train times at the nearby train station only to be told that there was
none. Now I was perplexed because my information told me there would be several
buses a day and at least one train. I analyzed my travel book before noticing
in the fine print that there was a second bus station, so I returned to inquire
about this but the lady acted like she didn’t know. I then pushed the book
through the little talking window and had here read the name of the station.
She paused to think for a while and then slowly pointed into the distance
saying, “other bus station, very far, taxi.” I asked there was a number we
could call to ask about times, but she said no. That is traveling in the
Balkans for you. Many information people knew unbelievably little about
transportation options at their location. I decided to ask a taxi driver for
more information, then arranged for him to take us out to the station that was
8 km outside the city to buy a ticket and then back to the city center to my
desired hostel. We climbed the spiraling stairs of a Soviet-era concrete
apartment block to the fourth floor and entered Hostel City Center.
We were greeted by a
wonderfully cheerful receptionist and checked into a room. It was a great
atmosphere with a large common area, free computer use, and clean rooms. It
felt good to know where we would lay our heads that night. I asked Azra many
questions and she gave me a lot of Inside Information that
gave me confidence that we could see everything in the time available and
accomplish our only jointly pre-determined goal for the trip; to watch The
Hobbit. Of course, when I asked about the distant station, she knew the phone
number by heart and called to confirm some details. During our conversation,
some other guys came in and we decided to go out to dinner with them to a
recommended joint to try the local favorite, Cevapcici, which is kebab sausage
meat with pita, onion, and sour cream. Nick was from Iowa and was studying in
Istanbul, John was from Alabama and was teaching English in Istanbul, and
Adrian was from Canada and was studying in Vienna. We later wondered through
the streets until we found the stands of the Christmas market and entered the
recommended beer tent for more socialization. We drank some local beer on Barrels
Out of Bond from the crowded tables. The conversation was natural and
we had many opportunities to joke with Adrian about being Canadian among other
things.
It was time. We made
plans to meet up tomorrow morning for a guided tour of the city led by me and
my book and headed toward the theater. This part of the city was busy with people,
not necessarily normal in Balkan cities, and I located a contingent of
Al-Jazeera. The theater looked like home and we entered our theater 15 minutes
before showing time. We found it strange that we were On the Doorstep of
this epic event, but we were alone in the theater. Sure enough the people
poured in within 10 minutes and the movie started. For some reason, I was just
incredibly excited to be able to see this movie on our trip. The movie was not
showing in Albania, so we would have had to wait until we returned to the
states to see the movie so this was a unique opportunity. The Hobbit was
certainly different than the Lord of the Rings and there were certain scenes
that were there because they were drawing it out into three movies, but I knew
these things going in so I was pleased with the outcome and very entertained
the whole way through.
Day 3
The next morning we ate
breakfast at the hostel and left for the morning tour minus Nick, but with the
addition of two surprisingly pleasant French-speaking individuals, Hafssa and
Etienne. We first headed up the hill to get a commanding view of the city. On
the way we saw the huge Muslim graveyard where they buried many of the 18,000
people who were killed between 1992 and 1996 during the Serbian siege of the city.
We continued to a museum that was built into the walls of the old Austrian
fortress that honored the popular first president of BiH Alija Izetbegovic
before climbing the ramparts for our view over the city. Unfortunately, the
view greatly limited by the fog, but it gave a mysterious aura to the recently
war-torn city. From there you could see how the city sat below the mountains
that surrounded the city, which were occupied by enemy artillery and snipers.
From this position, they slowly lobbed shells into the city to break damage and
break the spirit of those trying to continue their lives in the city. The city
held out through those four years connected to the outside world only through a
long narrow tunnel that delivered UN protected humanitarian aid.
The group then went to a
wonderfully preserved 18th century Ottoman household. It was fascinating to
explore this living space that was decorated and outfitted in the same way it
would have been centuries ago when Turks controlled the region. The rooms were
full of beautiful carpets, furniture, and woodwork. The kitchen had many huge
iron pots and sectioned off places for Fire and Water needed
for the cooking and cleaning necessary to host parties. The complex had three
buildings with walled of courtyards in between. The first building was used
only for business purposes, the second was the main living space, and the third
was for hosting family and guests during celebrations.
Next, we headed back
down into the cobbled streets of the old city to look at some of the more
impressive buildings and to take in the atmosphere. We stopped for a burek
snack before locating one of the last remaining Sarajevo Roses, holes made by
exploding shells that were filled in with red paint to memorialize the many who
died during the siege. Then, after some impatience, we visited the place where
Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was shot. There was just a plaque on the
wall along a normal street marking the spark of WWI. The anarchist assassin was
supposedly eating a sandwich and was not planning anything special that day,
but when the Archduke’s car was drawn off-course and stopped directly in front
of him, he took advantage of the opportunity. Wanting to expand their power,
Austria-Hungary blamed the attack on Serbia and declared war. In turn, Russia
came to the aid of its Slavic brothers and so all the members of the Allied and
Central powers were drawn into the war.
The guided tour was over
so we decided to return to the beer tent for more conversation. Later that
night, Justin and I talked with a local shopkeeper about his views of the war
and political situation. He argued that the recent war was between factions of
Tito's communist government who were doing whatever necessary to secure power,
but that Serbia committed the most atrocities only because it had the most
guns. He also talked about the rampant corruption that remained in government
throughout the Balkans and how the people's drive to succeed was handicapped by
a system where it was more important who you knew than what you could
do. The political system was stagnant because everyone was still fearful
of war sentiments used by politicians to get the populace to vote only along
ethnic lines (Muslim, Serb, Croatian) maintaining the status quo. Before
leaving we found an atmospheric Turkish joint for some more local cuisine
before going to a hookah bar with our friends to experience this unique part of
traditional Turkish culture. After saying goodbye, we took a taxi out to the
bus station and boarded our night train to Belgrade.
Day 4
Once again, sleep was
interrupted by the border crossing and we arrived around 4 am. For all its
fame, Belgrade turned out to be a confusing tourist city with Queer
Lodgings. In the freezing wind we found the train station to find an unsatisfactory
and confusing schedule before heading toward the city center. We walked several
kilometers an viewed some huge Romanesque buildings illuminated in the light.
As the sun rose we stumbled into the city center and began looking for a hostel
but we were unable to locate any hostel from my book. I felt it was very
strange to have so many bleak residential buildings and
no accommodation near the touristic center.
Finally, around 7am we
found a sign for "Time Hostel" in an alley and pushed the button to
signal our arrival. There was no response, so I pushed it again for a few
seconds and the door unlocked. We went upstairs and knocked on the door that
claimed there was 24 hour service. The door opened and a very large bearded man
(looked like an Orthodox priest with a long braid of hair) stepped into the
opening and asked in a very impatient tone what we wanted. I thought this was
an interesting question and was surprised at his hospitality but I
simply responded that we were looking for a room. He immediately responded in a
low voice, "there is no room" as if to proclaim God's coming wrath on
sinners before turning around a slamming the door. I turned to Justin in
confusion and he was very surprised...at least we would have a good story
to tell.
I was annoyed by the
fact that we were looking for hours for a hostel only to find one and be rudely
turned away by a 24-hour hostel with laughable service. The only possible
justification I could imagine is that he did not anticipate being interrupted
on Christmas morning, but then I remembered that Orthodox Christmas was not
until January. It turned out for the best because within 15 minutes we saw a
small sign for "Hostel 360" off a main street so we took a very small
elevator up to the 8th floor. Instructions were to wait until office hours at
9am if we did not have a reservation, so we took this opportunity to head to
the McDonald's for an ironic Christmas breakfast that was quite the contrast to
my family tradition of eating home-made eggs Benedict before opening
gifts.
We returned to the
hostel and met the owner Dejan on the steps who set us up with a nice room. I
asked him several questions and he told me the easiest way to Romania was with
a private van service that would pick us up and go direct. With that figured
out, we continued to converse and he was surprised by some of my
perspectives that he found very mature and thought-provoking. Intrigued by the
depth of his thinking and focus on enlightenment I inquired about
his spiritual life and he told me that he was a practicing Orthodox
Christian, but had found great fulfillment in the Chinese discipline of Falun
Dafa. He described how every morning he did this mental exercise (similar to
Yoga) that cleared his mind of anxiousness and anger and allowed him to live
above the drone of material existence. This was fascinating to me because
I would have never expected a Serbian Orthodox to practice some Chinese
exercise that I had never heard of, which was apparently heavily persecuted
under the Mao regime because of its popularity.
He described how modern
exercise and education had lost much of its intended value. Students should
meditate between classes to clear their mind and to reflect on what they
learned with the goal of self-improvement rather than thinking of education
only as the necessary means to a material end. Yoga and martial arts are
performed only for their physical benefits removing the mental exercise that
helped the individual find inner calm and freedom from attachments. We
discussed how Western society only focuses on material advancement and no
longer teaches morality or life principles of enlightenment and
fulfillment. I commented that structures of power keep their position by
maintaining this mirage that happiness is found through material
wealth, so the Chinese government likely attacked Falun Dafa because it was
something that brought true happiness and fulfillment that was not connected to
money making it a threat to the powers that control our world. We discussed how
eastern philosophy and religion focuses on gaining freedom from worldly
attachment, that these ideas connected with the teaching of Jesus, and that
this message was something that our world needed greatly in this busy modern
age.
Eventually, Justin and I
headed toward the ancient fortress that had stood guard over the Danube River
and had been the site of hundreds of battles. The walls surrounding the citadel
were most recently reconstructed by the Ottomans. The view from the edge
offered a commanding panorama view over the river and the new city beyond but
it was greatly limited by the thick fog that would continue to follow us
through the end of the trip. We visited the a few Orthodox chapels that were
tucked into the slopes and I clipped my nails with my legs dangling over the
edge of the wall (why not?) before we visited the extensive
military museum.
The museum covered the
history of the region chronologically, but the most fascinating were those from
WW1 and 2. Serbia had fought with the Allies in both wars and had been
completely devastated along with Bosnia and other regions by the back and forth
slaughter. While Serbs were ethnically cleansing Muslims from near their
borders, the Croatian fascist Ustase were doing the same thing to
Serbs with greater brutality than Hitler's SS. The last few centuries in the
Balkans have been full of deprivation and destruction that have created such a
multi-layered complexity and scarred condition that has proven difficult to
heal.
We walked around the
city some more, but it was very bleak with very little historic or visual
appeal. Turns out this Balkan hot-spot was well known more for its diversity of
options for eating, shopping, and clubbing adhering to Slavic style. We ate
some creamy tomato soup and Tiramisu at a bourgeois joint before resting
at the hostel. In our room we met Jared who proved to be the exception to the
hostel-surfing world traveler who was usually bent on getting drunk and sewing
as many wild oats as possible in cities throughout the world. He was a rural Canadian
evangelical Christian who was hoping to be travel for a year. He had only
drank wine once to be polite, had never been to a club, and enjoyed journaling
and reading his Bible. I found him to be a fascinatingly unusual specimen;
he had never traveled outside of Alberta except to student-teach at a
reservation school in the Northwest Territory, but after graduating college he
decided he wanted some adventure so he walked out of his house with his pack
and began hitchhiking a bit around Canada before falling in love with life on
the road and deciding to get a flight oversees because he wanted to travel the
world. It seemed that he was simply interested in new experiences while
learning about new cultures and places and I don’t even think he had a camera. We
were thinking of checking it out because it seemed like the must-see aspect of
Belgrade, but it turned out that the famous spots were not open on a Tuesday
night and the others were further away and not a party until after 1 am, so we
decided against it.
After conversation, the
three of us walked across town to a street that is famous for its bohemian
restaurants and troupes of Roma musicians. We had many a lass come approach
attempt to woo us into their eatery, but I insisted that I needed to walk the
whole street before making a decision. After I told this to one lady she said,
“I don’t think you will be back.” However, after perusing the options, the
choice to return to her restaurant was clear to Justin because they served “big
beers”…another example of how easily swooned he is by a simple sales pitch that
wets his appetite. This place had a huge menu with various meat items
including Roast Mutton and cow gonads. It got a little awkward
when a group of musicians came into play for us. We were the only people in the
restaurant and we knew they were looking for a tip but we had almost no cash
apart from what we needed for dinner, so I offered the equivalent of a dollar
but was snubbed off by the man saying it was too little. I was beginning to
think the logic of the people in this city was a little lacking because they
had decided to come into the emptiest restaurant to play for a group of young,
ragged boys expecting a nice tip.
The two main things that
travellers had raved about for Belgrade was the nightlife and the women. Since
we had counted out clubbing, I had not noticed anything particularly impressive
about the women in the city until I was greeted by the night receptionist of
the hostel. She was a lot to handle and was dressed like she would be going
clubbing that night, so I laughed in my head as I asked her about being
picked up by the van in the morning before going to sleep.
Day 5
We were supposed to get
a call at 7 in the morning telling us where to go, but I waited downstairs for
over an hour. Just as I got up to figure out what other transportation options
were available, the phone rang and we were soon coasting across the countryside
and into Romania. I noticed the remains of many apartment blocks, factories,
and what looked like nuclear power plants, the concrete remains of a Soviet
obsession with industrialization.
When we arrived in
Timisoara, we were dropped off right in front of a beautiful Orthodox Cathedral
that was full of people. We stepped inside the warmest Cathedral atmosphere I
have ever experienced as it was pulsing with Romanian believers filled with
Christmas cheer and decorated with hundreds of candles and several Christmas
trees. After taking in the rituals and icons, we headed across the street into
the large open square that contained another Christmas market with hundreds of
goody-filled booths and we stopped to eat some pork along with pita stuffed
with cheese and sauerkraut. We paused at the curious sight of a man dressed as
a Native American who was dancing and playing a traditional wind-pipe
instrument drawing a captive audience.
We continued into the
historic center of the city with another large open square that shouted
Austrian architecture. There were two large cathedrals surrounded by
multi-colored houses covered by windows that reflected the rococo style common
in the Austro-Hungarian Empire during the 18th and 19th centuries when it
reached into Romania. We walked around a little more of the city until Justin’s
knee began to bother him because he had slept awkwardly during our bus-ride the
other night, so we sought solace from the cold indoors. This proved difficult
because most places were closed and it seemed like most people had the same
idea, but we finally found a coffee shop where we remained for several hours. I
used this time to finish reading the brief histories for each of the countries
that we would be visiting.
We decide to enjoy the
Christmas atmosphere before heading way out to the train station where I had
earlier bought tickets for a 9pm night train. When we got there, I asked for
more specific directions from a group of men who were waiting out by the tracks
but they kept pointing down the tracks and I could not understand what they
were trying to say. Eventually one man pointed to his wrist and I realized what
had happened…we had missed the train because the time had changed to one hour
ahead in Romania and we had gone about our day unaware of this. One of the men
helped to explain what happened to the ticket lady who showed little sympathy.
I could tell she was saying to him that it doesn’t matter where they are from,
everyone has the same hours on the clock and should not miss a train…I was not
going to argue with that. Luckily, we got an 80% refund for the tickets and
found a taxi driver who knew where an open hostel was. The people working in
the hostel were nice but surprisingly not very stimulating and I was more
interested in going to bed in preparation for an early morning bus.
Day 6
Justin and I slept for
most of our long ride across the snowy Romanian countryside into Transylvania.
We walked from the Sibiu bus station up toward the historic city center to find
a large square covered by another Christmas market. I was starting to grow
tired of these markets because they were all the same and this one covered what
was supposed to be one of the nicest open squares in the region. This was the
only city where we actually found a tourist information center that was open.
We dropped our things off at a hostel before exploring the cobble-stoned
streets and churches that felt like they had been transplanted from Bavaria. In
fact, all of Transylvania has a German feel because thousands of Saxons were
encouraged to settle in the region during the 15th and 16th centuries creating
a stronger line of defense against the advancing Ottomans. They are the ones
responsible for building many of the quaint towns and prominent fortresses that
make the region a tourist attraction today.
We decided to visit the
local history museum, which my book accurately described as having “swanky” new
displays making the entrance fee quite steep. Sibiu seemed like a typical
European town emerging from the Middle Ages with dozens of guilds all devoted
to producing a certain craft aimed at gaining autonomy from the feudal lords
that suppressed economic development. There were displays of intricate
glasswork, complicated locking mechanisms, coat of arms, and many weapons.
Transylvania was a prosperous region connected with Western Europe because of
the trade that flowed through. Also, the people are not Slavic in origin but
mostly trace their roots to the Roman settlement of the region (hence Romania).
These two things come together to make Transylvania feel much different than
the other Balkan regions we had visited.
Next, we climbed the
tower of the old town hall to look over the city and the people in the square
below. Before it was too late, we scurried over to the Museum of European art
to look at an impressive collection that included some famous German and Dutch
artist revealing the different cultural heritage as well. As we were leaving,
we were told by a guard to visit the basement, which was a dark and dank Gothic
exhibit that was home to Flies and Spiders along with mummies
and vampires. Then another card came down with his flashlight and was
frustrated that we were down there past closing time suggesting that we felt we
did not have to follow the rules, which was amusing since we had been told to
go down after closing time just a few minutes before.
We strolled through the
main square which was aglow with lights and children laughing along with a
massive Christmas tree before continuing down the pedestrian street to find
something to eat. We walked past a Shawarma venue and we could not pass up this
great quantity of food that reminded me of my time in Jerusalem. Since we were
planning on getting a drink with dinner to socialize, we searched out a bar
with beer on tap, but it was not to be and we were deceived by a bar that had a
tap, but it was not functioning. It was entertaining nonetheless because the
bartender requested that we sit near him to give him a chance to practice his
English and we tried some local brews while discussing our impressions of the
day.
Day 7
Early in the morning we
arrived at the bus station just as a crowd was swarming the mini-bus we planned
on taking so we got seats while others had to stand or did not make it. We made
it to the bus station in Brasov which was far outside the city center. I wanted
to get to the other local bus station and asked some people, but we wondered
around for a while because of different information until one old man offered
to help by splitting a taxi with us. He went off running and I followed him and
he told me not to speak or the taxi driver would charge extra. It worked out
and we got a ride to the distant bus station where we had to determine what bus
to take because there were no signs.
Eventually, the correct
bus came and I went back to meet some people who I heard speaking English. I
sat next to a guy my age who was Canadian and he told me how he was traveling
around and decided that he would stay at a monastery in Bucharest for a few
months performing some simple volunteer work. I thought this was awesome but he
was not so sure because he was very dismissive of religion, but I encouraged
him saying he would probably learn something. He was traveling for the day with
a very talkative old man from Spain who was a little too eager to share his
life observations. Half the words out of the Spaniards mouth were either “Vamos
a ver” or “Voila”, but great filler words to comment on his every action.
We got off the bus and
began our climb up to Bran Castle known by tourists as the Dracula Castle. In
fact, Vlad Tepes (the historical figure serving as the basis for Dracula) never
lived in this castle, nor did he drink peoples blood but he was a harsh ruler
who enjoyed eating dinner in front of his enemies who he had impaled on long
poles to watch them suffer. The Romanians feel that Vlad was an important ruler
who helped Romania resist the Ottoman advance, but the author fantasized the
life of the king to make a scary story that seemed to fit with the rolling
countryside and conspicuous castles of the region. The castle was imposing and
dreary on the outside but was catered to serve the needs of the nobles who
lived inside. Life was bleak for many at the time because of cold winters and
attacks by Magyars, Ottomans, and feuding lords but the castles served as
strongholds to control the trade routes that passed through. The entrance area
was covered with row after rows of shops peddling Dracula souvenirs no doubt
boosted by the recent interest in vampirism.
Justin and I returned to
Brasov, and after some more confusion, found our way onto a city bus that
dropped us near the center where we were able to locate the hostel that our
travel partners had told us about. We unloaded our things and explored the city
center that included the Black Church, the largest Cathedral between Vienna and
Istanbul. Other than its size, the church was not very impressive on the inside
or outside because it seemed to be built as a fortification. In fact, the
Saxons fortified the region by building their Cathedrals to serve a dual
purpose as worship center and defensive citadel. This old town was much more
extensive than the other cities so we wandered around finding interesting
locations before locating the old defensive wall. My map failed me so I decided
to make my own path as we pioneered through the woods towards one of the old
defensive towers on the hill. It turns out there was an indirect route, but we
emerged from the trees and climbed down to the steps confusing one of the
passing security guards.
The tower offered a
great panoramic view across the old city allowing us to take in the scope of
this dynamic city. The endless network of sloping rooftops and chimneys from
the buildings below helped to preserve an image of what life was like here many
centuries ago. Fueled by our sense of adventure, we decided to take a slippery
slopped path through the woods to the next tower where we were rewarded with
another great view from a different perspective along with a setting sun.
Before the daylight was extinguished, we climbed up to the more recent Austrian
citadel above the city hoping to relax at a beer patio with a great view, but
the place was abandoned for the winter leaving us to throw pieces of ice at
random objects for entertainment.
I want to commend Justin
for pushing through the pain that likely continued to aggravate his knee
allowing us both to see everything of note in the city before resting. He was
determined to not slow down my quick-paced and adventuresome spirit and we were
both rewarded with one of our favorite experiences of the trip. We returned all
the way down and around the city until we found ourselves back in the Christmas
market of the main square buzzing once again with joyful spirit and a large
glowing tree. We both agreed we wanted pizza and we decided to check out this
place with an unappealing sign. Once again we were rewarded with an unexpected
gem with a lively atmosphere, beer on tap, large pizzas, and a view of the
street below. We enjoyed our time to converse and decided to walk down the main
pedestrian street a bit more before retiring to the hostel.
That night we found our
traveling friends from earlier in the day along with some other interesting
folks. I first talked to this ragged fellow from Australia named Jamie who I
likened to a white, more adventurous version of Bob Marley. He had come from
Turkey so we were sharing our traveling stories from Cappadocia and he told a
couple stories about how he had climbed dangerous precipices with some of his
crazy friends. One time a friend was climbing above him and a rock slide off
and whizzed a few inches from his face, while another time his handhold gave
way and his hand luckily slide by a firm ledge to grab onto; both times he said
he would have certainly died if he fell. I thought about how I loved to climb
around places when I travel, although I try to avoid scaling anything where a
minor mistake would leave me falling to death. It seemed like he should be more
careful but I admired the adventurous spirit to challenge yourself and explore
and I found myself wising I had something to climb.
There is something about
taking risks (hopefully calculated) out in the wild that resonates with a man’s
spirit. I thought about taking risk more generally in life and, while I believe
we should be responsible and careful, I think we often get trapped by our own
sense of security and remain apathetic or stuck in routine using the
justification that it would not be safe to risk living outside the conventional
boundaries. I never want to be held down by any material goods or my own sense
of safety in self-sufficiency to be trapped from living life extraordinarily.
Christ calls us to break conventional understandings of safety in order to
trust in the Lord for our provision and our fulfillment every day. So, I think
there is both a raw sense of freedom inherent to humanity and a Christian call
to abandonment that encourage us to live life as an adventure above the desires
of the world that tie us down. I want to be able to set aside what I have in
order to follow God’s leading or to experience something new. These sentiments
are portrayed in a movie I watched recently that fueled my desire to travel
called “Into the Wild.” Those who feel stuck in routine should check it out.
Day 8
In the morning, I was
introduced in passing to a quartet of traveling Spaniards who we would see more
of later. This was only the second place where we were leaving late enough to
take advantage of a free breakfast at the hostel before boarding a local train
to Sinaia to visit the royal residence of Carol I, the first king of Romania.
We met a fellow named Kit who looked lost on the way so he tagged along. Kit
was from Hong Kong so I talked with him about my knowledge of Chinese history
and their view of the world.
I confirmed that Chinese
traditionally understand creation as a sequence of great leaders who bequeathed
different aspects of society, that their first dynasty was the Xia (little
evidence to their existence without written sources), and that Chinese schools
focus on European historical development after learning their own history
because of the power balance in the modern world. I inquired about the Chinese
sense of competition with America and he responded that China wanted to advance
to the forefront to show the world that they have this capability again as they
have throughout much of world history. However, he also expressed a sense of
gratitude toward America that helped to protect it against the brutal expansion
of Japan and offered economic aid that put the country back on a path to
restoration. Maybe his words were slanted to please me, but I did not sense any
of the distrust or malevolence among the Chinese people that Americans
sometimes place on them because of their recent rise to power that threatens
our position of global dominance.
We walked up a
snow-lined path through the woods to an Orthodox monastery with a beautiful
church. We then hiked up to the top and accidently first toured the smaller
Pelesor Palace, which was built near the castle for the king’s nephew. It
was confusing because the signs had the same name for both structures and the
palace was impressive in its own right, but Peles Castle turned out to be
magnificent. We took an English tour and put elastic slippers over our shoes
before making our way into the stunning main hall. Everything was covered in
ornately carved dark woods. I have often found that palaces from the 17th to
19th century tend to be overly adorned with too much going on to make one feel
comfortable. This palace was not lacking in wealthy adornment, but the use of
wood and space along with oriental treasures made it perhaps my favorite palace
that I have visited. Each room was unique and exciting and yet somehow equally
lavish as the last. It also felt like a place that I could live in, so it was a
shame to leave.
The three of us walked
down a more isolated snow-covered path that made me think how it was better to
visit Transylvania in the winter because I think it helps capture more of the
simple essence of the place. After saying goodbye to Kit, we found that the ATM
in the train station did not worked so I sprinted up into town to make a
withdrawal and back in time to buy our tickets and even grab a sandwich before
the train left.
When we arrived in
Bucharest, we took the metro to the center and emerged from the underground
with little sunlight left in the day. I asked two kids which way to the Palace
of Parliament and they walked us down the street to point it out. Suddenly, a
man stopped us from behind, flashed us his police badge, and asked us some
questions about who we were and what we were doing before telling us to wait as
he made a call. He was very insistent that we remain patient and proceeded to
interrogate the two boys about their intentions. Becoming cautious, I told
Justin not to give his passport to anyone, but then the police man simply urged
us to be careful because their city had a lot of problems and suggested that
one of these boys could have been A Thief in the Night. We found
the police overly dramatic and acknowledged that it was very unlikely the boys
could have done anything because I was just asking them to point us in the
right direction so I could use my map and would not have went out of the public
eye. Alas, all I could do was explain that I approached them for first and they
were just walking with us along the same way they were already going to the
next street, but the police man cut me off and said dramatically that they were
handling it.
Bucharest is huge. It
used to be known as the “Paris of Eastern Europe” before the communist government
took over and hastily “modernized” the city into a concrete jungle. There were
dozens of massive squares and it would have taken nearly a day to walk across
the center. The last dictator, Nicolae Ceausescu, felt that he needed to build
a massive government building that would show the strength of Romania to the
world. His Palace of Parliament is the third largest government building (3.8
million square feet) in the world. Unfortunately, Romania was still a poor
rural country so the billions he spent on this drove the people into even
greater poverty. In 1989, the people rebelled against communist abuse starting
in Western-minded Timisoara and took control of the country in a few days and
executed the dictator. So don’t build yourself a personal palace if you have to
take all the money from the people because they will not like it.
We continued to walk
through the massive, yet curiously empty streets until we grew weary and
stopped to rest in a nice church. There happened to be some sort of a
consecration ceremony going on and the press was there recording the event
among a crowd of well-dressed folks. I sensed Justin felt very out of place as
we trudged into the rear, so we did not stay long but I wanted to get warm and
stretch. We then slowly found our way to the historic center, which was all
locked when we got there. I was not upset because there was little to see there
other than some remains of an old palace and a statue, but it just seemed
stupid to lock such a place.
Feeling that we had
taken in enough of the city for the time, I was drawn into nearby bar by the
Paulaner sign on the door because that beer is brewed in Munich to which I have
still experienced no equal. It came in a familiar glass and when it reached my
taste buds I distinctly recalled not only the frothy, smooth unfiltered
goodness, but also the location where I had been before when I drank it in
Germany last year. So in addition to the sense of smell, if you want to make a
memory, try something with a distinct taste and it will remain ingrained.
Considering we enjoyed
the experience, Justin and I decided we had nothing better to do, so we ordered
a couple more beers and enjoyed the warmth inside as we shared our thoughts
with one another. With renewed vitality and cheer, we took to the streets to
experience a few more sites. We located the Romanian Antheum, which is a famous
concert hall built to evoke Roman greatness that, in contrast to the communist
parliament, was funded voluntarily by the public out of a sense of cultural pride.
Then we made our way into Revolution square that was full of history. There was
the communist party building where Ceausescu made his last speech as
revolutionaries called for his downfall, the former house of Parliament that
was converted into the national art gallery, statues signifying the
revolutionary struggle and triumph, and a huge equestrian statue of Carol I
representing a true leader of the people. After clowning around, we made our
way back to the train station through intriguingly desolate streets and grabbed
some fast food before boarding our midnight mystery train from Russia that
would take us to Sofia, Bulgaria during the night.
Day 9
Once aboard, we sought a
sleeper car, but apparently that was no longer an option. We settled into our
seats and tried to get as much sleep as possible. We were woken several times
in the first couple hours by different conductors checking our tickets or
making noise and twice at the border crossing by perpetually irritated customs
police. Later we were woken again and asked to move into another car because
there was no heating on our current car. The seating was in separate
compartments with two rows of seats facing each other which reminded me of
Harry Potter and I was hoping we would not get attacked by dementors. I settled
into sleep again, but when another conductor woke me up during the night to
check my ticket another time, I felt like I was re-emerging from the womb. The
car may have been hot when I fell asleep, but now it felt like we had
graduated Out of the Frying Pan Into the Fire. It was now more
likely that we would suffocate to death than have our souls eaten by mythical
beings.
My hopes of consistent
sleep were dashed so I got up to look around and was surprised to see the same
quartet of Spaniards who had been at our hostel in Brasov. Turns out they were
following a similar course but had arrived too late at the station to buy
tickets so they simply got on hoping to buy tickets on board. The conductors
told them several times it was not possible to buy tickets on board and that
they would be kicked off, but the four of them insisted that they were
instructed to do so by the ticket booth and eventually they paid the conductors
some money to let them stay. This part of the world is still certainly accustomed
to corruption at almost all levels, so this was not a great surprise, but it
was crazy that all this had happened to the same people that I had met far away
in another city that morning.
I sat down to talk to
one of them named Daniel, who shared that he had been working in Sofia as an
engineer and was trying to travel the region before returning to Spain to
graduate from technical school in the spring. He asked me a lot about my
travels and asked me to scout out some possible travel routes for him that hit
the highlights and we talked about our lives along the way. I told him that I
was hoping to travel in Spain this summer and he was quick to offer his house
near Seville as a place to stay and expressed that he may even like to travel
around the region with me in his car because he would never be able to get
enough of its beauty.
The train was late as
expected, but I decided to take advantage of the ability to see the
countryside, which turned out to be surprisingly gloomed. Communism had
certainly left its ugly mark with abandoned buildings and ugly concrete housing
blocks with no traditional dwellings that one would expect to see in rural
areas. It may be that this is mostly the case along the rail lines that served
communisms industrial machine and more scenic life may exist beyond, but the
Soviet waste left a sour taste in my mouth. When we finally arrived, Daniel
helped us to find the city center before we parted. Justin and I ate some lunch
at another McDonald’s before checking out the famous Alexander Nevsky Cathedral
and the museum of icons housed in the basement. It always is a little
surprising to me to see how prominently Mary is viewed in the Orthodox and
Catholic Church traditions as she was being crowned by the Trinity while the
earth lifted up their praise to her in several icons. I also found that St. Demetrius,
an epic name, was paired along with St. George like a twin. The inside of the
cathedral was not as impressive as I was thinking, but the faded icons on the
stone walls gave it a more ancient feel, as if upon entering you went back in
time.
After visiting a few
more churches we wandered to the cultural center that turned out to be the
hotspot for the cities skateboard and trick-bike enthusiasts. We watched the
tricks and observed the different dynamics among the youth as they tried to
impress each other with their skill and swag. Since all the museums were
closed, we killed some time before venturing to dinner for more pizza and local
brew. Afterward, we wandered around the center and sat in the square among the
Christmas light displays before taking the metro to the bus station and waiting
for our mini-bus to arrive and take us to our final destination of Skopje,
Macedonia. Sleep was not much better because we stopped at many other stations
to pick up more people along with another border check, so we arrived in Skopje
exhausted at about 3:30am and got a taxi to a hostel to crash.
Day 10
When I woke up late in
the morning and wondered upstairs for breakfast, I met a few young men who
explained that they were traveling in a group from the Netherlands. As we
continued talking, one-by-one more Dutchman arrived and joined in the
conversation. Soon there were a dozen of them sitting all around the room
talking, joking, and chuckling together in their native tongue that reminded me
of a more hearty, earthen-bound people. Then, all at once, I realized that I
had stumbled into The Unexpected Party. I looked at Justin and
said, “They are the dwarves…I really want to eat dinner with them.” With a
renewed interest I inquired about their journey and what plans they had. It was
soon revealed by the leader of their party, Thorin (Sjoerd), that they had planned
to climb the nearby mountain the next day. This was all too good to be true. I
expressed our interest in joining their fellowship on this adventure.
Around noon, Justin and
I made our way into the city center to explore and we were confronted by an awful
lot of statues. We crossed the river into the Turkish historic part to walk
through the twisting streets with shops, mosques, hamams, and housing. We
ventured into an intimate two floored restaurant with point-to-order local
cuisine that graciously filled our stomachs. The street layout was confusing
and I was not impressed with the sights, but we did find a modern art gallery
housed in an ancient hamam (bathhouse) to entertain us for a while. We visited
the Turkish bazaar which turned out to be an extensive version of an Albanian
bazaar because all the people yelling and crowding the shops were Albanian.
All the other museums
were closed, so we made our way upwards to the citadel to at least have some
time to climb around the walls and enjoy a commanding view, but apparently
closing this to visitors was a thing too. In frustration, Justin took a picture
of me holding a metal pole with a cement slab on one end (resembling Thor’s
hammer) before slamming it into the ground. Feeling like we had enough, we walked
to the bus station to assure we got an exit ticket for the next day and made
our way back to the hostel.
I was hoping the dwarves
would be home creating a raucous, but the place was mostly empty. Since it was
New Year’s Eve, I wanted to wait around to feel out what would be the best way
to spend our evening. We relaxed in the hostel and I began to do some
reflection on the past year before a bunch of girls arrived for the little
party planned at the hostel by the owner. It was quite amusing because the
girls came in excited and ready for a party but the only other people around
were three guys who did not fit the normal outgoing hostel traveler stereotype.
I was trying to finish my reflection before releasing myself for the evening,
but it was way too entertaining to watch the uncomfortable interactions leading
to the boys and girls remaining separate. I went to my room to wrap-up my
thoughts. When I returned, the dwarves were fumbling through the door so we had
a much more natural party atmosphere, so I spent the evening snacking and in
conversation.
I talked with the
Dutchman about the ever increasing pace of history and the rise and fall of
ideas or societies, which the Dutch knew all too well because they went from
forming an independent republic to dominating world imperialism before bowing
out to English hegemony within two centuries. We discussed the stark
differences between the Netherlands and Belgium as a state caught between
strong French and Dutch identities, the changing economic climate of Europe,
and good beer. Finally, they told me how they were required to learn French,
German, and English throughout their education before reflecting on the
cognitive and psychological impact that has on them and their worldview.
I also spent a good amount
of time talking to Elena, a local Macedonian who had lived in the United States
and worked as a journalist as well as a tour guide in Greece. This conversation
was fascinating because she gave me a young female perspective on life in the
Balkans (neighboring Albania) and could compare it with my own native culture,
which was something I did not have in Albania with the students. We discussed
traditional gender roles that still controlled society, the closed outlook of
men because of their unwillingness to display emotion or vulnerability, and the
contrast between obedience to tradition vs. freedom, particularly related to
love. Her writing was her form of expression so we talked about how artistic
freedom is often limited by the demand to fit into certain categories in order
to be accepted or make money and it was obvious that she had turned on the
communal customs of Macedonia to make an unbridled grasp at freedom. Before I
knew it, several hours had passed and people were all of a sudden counting down
to midnight and I did not have time to grasp what was happening before we were
all hugging and wishing each other fortune in the coming year.
I decided that I did not
want to miss out on hitting the town with the dwarves, so I made it a company
of 13 and we walked down to the square where we were greeted by intensely loud
hip-hop in the main square. We found a club to celebrate in (took part in this
Balkan-assumed activity) but it was much more relaxed that I expected as there
was almost no dancing and the live band played mostly popular rock music. As
expected, it was not something I thoroughly enjoyed but it was good to be
included and contribute to the cheer among the Dutchman. After 4am, we made our
way back to the hostel to crash again.
I slept in but I got up
after 10 to be ready for our ascent of the mountain with the dwarves. Turned
out that none of them had yet awaken from their slumber so I watched some
soccer matches and read. It was quite long before the dwarves emerged from the
mines and I began to worry if we would run out of daylight, but we eventually
set off. Apparently they had no idea where they were going, but the combination
of a phone GPS along with trial and error eventually got us on the right
path. As we climbed, the environment changed several times and we walked
along a ledge before entering a forest that allowed me feel like we were
approaching Rivendell.
We reached the lower end
of a cable car that traveled to the peak that was crowned by the largest metal
cross in the world. We were not expecting to see much because the fog had
closed us in for some time, but on the way up we all of a sudden emerged from
the cloudy veil for an amazing view. The Gathering of the Clouds was
perfectly smooth as it swept across the valley with only other mountain peaks
protruding from the depths, so it looked a lot like an ocean spreading out
around us and other islands. To make it even better, the sun was setting and
the light cast different colors across the cloudy expanse. We enjoyed the view
and took some pictures before we had to descend in order to catch the last
available retuning cable cars.
The Last Stage of our plan was to head into the old city
again to enjoy a feast and some beer together with the dwarves. We found a
great local joint with cozy upstairs seating and ate some massive burgers along
with other fixings. Unfortunately, Justin and I did not have time to relax and
socialize because our bus departure time was quickly approaching, so we had the
waiter call a taxi for us and we bid farewell to and wished them success in
recovering their majestic homeland.
Day 11
We began The
Return Journey by boarding a late night bus to Tirana. We got better
sleep on this ride despite another border crossing before being dropped off in
the middle of the night. Justin had not yet seen the center of the capital, so
we walked the main sites among the gleaming lights while some people still
drove through the streets honking their horn in extended celebration of the New
Year. There was a street full of Christmas market-like stands, but this one
looked like it would have been a much more lively and enjoyable experience. We
sat in front of the Pyramid of communist Parliament and thought about the
interesting combination of time, culture, and atmosphere we were experiencing
as we waited for morning when a van finally took us home to Lezha. We had the
rest of that day to unpack, process, and prepare for school the next morning.
The main goal of the
trip was to experience the rest of the countries in the Balkan region that I
had not yet visited during my time of service in Albania and that was certainly
accomplished. I felt that we were blessed with some cultural encounters that
allowed us to learn first-hand about life in their home country. I had
opportunities to ask a lot of questions and, although we certainly did not stay
long anywhere, I feel like traveling through these places and learning
specifics about their history, landscape, and culture has given me a more
holistic understanding of the region. Since there was a lot of traveling, late
night excursions, and some down time it was great to have a traveling partner
and I know that Justin enjoyed his exposure to this raw traveling experience.
I felt like we got to
see everything that I was hoping to and, while there were some unexpected
curveballs and difficult connections, everything seemed to work out well in the
end. I have been praying that this experience would help me to learn and grow
and I thank God for blessing us with learning opportunities and safety. It was
great to spend some time over the holidays in warm company with the people that
we met, and now we are thrown right back into the whirlwind of school. A thank
you and congratulations to those who care enough about my experience to have
gotten through another travel epic. Did anyone decrypt the hidden theme hidden
among my words?
Until Next Time, Rrofsh!
