Reveries of Disillusioned Enchantment

Wow.

(Source: thinkprogress.org, via newsweek)

In honor of Paris, being young and poor and the love of writing:

“There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it. But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.”

Hemingway’s “A Moveable Feast

I was on the way from Pokhara, Nepal to Vanarasi, India and the ride was long, to say the least. We left around 6 pm on Thursday and arrived in the small border town of Sunauli on the Nepali side at 5:30 in the morning. It was by far the bumpiest, most uncomfortable ride of my life. And I had the window seat. Poor Sarah was stuck next to the aisle with this lady sleeping in her lap the entire way. We made it though and when a large group of taxi drivers tried to rip us off and tell us there was no way to cross the border without them, we said to heck with them and paid 50 cents to ride on the roof of a jeep. It was quite a thrill. After crossing through Nepali immigration and then Indian immigration (not much security, actually none at all; I felt like I could have just walked through without stopping at the immigration offices), we got hassled into taking a $2 jeep to a town 2 hours away. After getting in and putting our luggage on the roof, we opted out (much to the chagrin of our driver and his friends) and made our way to the bus station. For less than $10 we found a ticket that took us all the way to our destination, over 10 hours away. Along with being 12 rupees short and having the ticket guy nag us every hour, we were hot, stiff, exhausted and being covered in pollution by the air from outside. We would also stop every hour so the driver could take a break. Did I mention that bus driver’s are crazy and honk the obnoxiously loud horn every 5 seconds, narrowly missing passing cars?! I thought I would go crazy when this young guy decided he wanted to talk to the only white people he’d probably seen in days. I wasn’t feeling it, as these kinds of conversations don’t usually end well. They want to talk about nothing. We don’t want to talk at all. They still have nothing to say hours later but keep saying it over and over. Blah, blah. I was just about to think of ways to put the kibosh on that one when I decided to hear him out. Turns out this 20 year old kid (looked about 15) had a world of things to say. He had just left his whole life in Pokhara, Nepal to join the Indian Army in Vanarasi, India. Imagine that, leaving your friends, family, home, the food you love, the life you know, the places you see every day for 20 years, to start a new journey in a foreign place with nothing but a backpack. His father had been in the Indian Army for years, was now retired and because of this connection, he was allowed to join. He told me how ready he was to make the leap as well as how hard it was and still how hard it is going to be. What an interesting conversation we had. We discussed Nepali life, food, language as well as Indian culture and the things you have to get used to; the quiet life in Pokhara versus the hectic life in Kathmandu and most Indian cities; marriage, girlfriends and boyfriends; and of course traveling. I loved how other travelers would ask him about the two white girls on the bus (he would translate for me) and then they would continue talking for awhile. When they left, you could see it in the way they spoke that they were wishing him luck on his journey and to be safe. I’m sure his parents would have been proud. There were often (on a 10 hour bus ride, there would be) moments of silence punctuated by his sudden remark that he was so happy to have met us and how boring his ride would have been without our ‘delightful’ conversation. It surely made the hours pass by a little more quickly for me as well. I was even able to enjoy the villages that passed by. He shared his water, mountain dew, packet of ramen and advice with us. He was even so kind as to pay the driver the 12 rupees we owed. You don’t meet people as sweet as him very often. When it was time to go, we exchanged email addresses (although he’s starting training and won’t be able to use a computer for 6 months) and hopes to meet again in the future. I surely hope we do meet again and that he gets everything he wants out of life.

Our last morning together was somewhat bittersweet. Amy was off to Ljubljana, Slovenia for a few days before starting her exciting new life in Frankfurt, Germany. Sarah was leaving me for 20 something odd days to explore Italy with, if I can count, 3 different groups of friends. I myself was off to visit Bosnia & Herzegovina by myself before meeting up with my two friends, Brad and Kelley, in Belgrade, Serbia. I was looking forward to being by myself for once. I love company but you always have to worry about what the other person wants, feels, etc. 

To say goodbye to each other, we bought some pastries and headed to a coffee place for some good caffeine and conversation. I’m not sure we realized how finite the situation was. I am definitely seeing Sarah at the end of August but I’m not sure when I’ll see Amy again. It didn’t feel like the end though, so maybe that means we just know we’ll see one another again soon. I sure hope so. 

We said goodbye to Sarah at the bus station as she headed off to airport. Amy  and I then hopped a bus to Split, one of the main tourist cities of the Dalmation Coast. We only spent a couple of hours there as we waited for our perspective buses but seeing Diocletians Palace and the simply incredible Roman ruins was breathtaking. We even ran into our friends Keith and Kenny that we had met on a bus a few days earlier. So crazy. I then hopped on the most ghetto-bus for a 4 hour, air-conditioner-less ride to Mostar, Herzegovina. 

We left Sibenik and hopped on a bus to Trogir, a Unesco World Heritage Site which I can honestly say was one of the prettiest towns in Croatia, or the Balkans for that matter. We checked into our hostel, our first one of the last two weeks because we couldn’t find any inexpensive campsites or CouchSurfing hosts. It wasn’t a problem, though, as the hostel was clean, comfortable and just a bridge-walk away from the center. The marble and white stone was everywhere with this ancient/medieval feeling surrounding you as you walked down small streets full of Romanesque and Renaissance architecture, medieval churches and 15th century fortifications. Basically it feels untouched by the last 500 years of sometimes volatile Croatian history. I’m a history geek so I just soak this stuff up. I can’t say I even once looked in the guidebook to understand what I was looking at but it didn’t matter. Just walking along the streets, checking out the shops, buying a trinket or two and maybe even having a beer on the harbor as the sun goes down does the job. 

We topped off the night by hanging out with some other foreigners we met at the hostel  and moving our group to the center to listen (and dance) to some live music next to the harbor. 

Before we left Plitvice, the three of us decided that we wanted to head somewhere towards Split, Croatia as that is where Sarah’s plane was leaving from on the 7th. When we got to the bus stop in the hopes of hitchhiking our way down the coast, we found a bus to Zadar helping passengers on. We figured ‘why not’ and hopped on. Unbeknownst to us, there were two guys sitting just behind us from the states. Kenny Ray (I kid you not) from North Carolina and Keith from Colorado. We hadn’t met many Americans so it was interesting to hear their plans and ask how things were going back in the good old U.S. of A. When we got to Zadar, we literally 1. looked at the schedule 2. looked at a map and 3. picked a point that looked nice. Sibenik sounded good, so we bought a ticket and  were on our way. 

I have to say, having no plan and just  going wherever the wind takes you is a truly liberating feeling. Even more so when you are with two great friends who are experiencing the same thing. 

Upon arriving in Sibenik, we realized that there were no campgrounds in the immediate area so we had to take another bus, a local one, to the outskirts of town in an area called Zablice. It was a small, quaint town with a bit of a more ‘run-down’ feeling than the other places we had seen. But, as we set up our hammocks about 10 feet from the  Adriatic Sea we knew nothing could bring us down.  The rest of the day was spent lounging around, drinking cheap Croatian beer, eating Serbian tuna-salad and swimming in the sea. I don’t know how you can beatwaking up to the site of the blue sea in front of you. The next morning was even better. Sarah and I went for a run around the peninsula, took a swim and then went for coffee and pastries at a nearby cafe. There wasn’t much to see in town besides the old fortress (too far away to walk to) so we just lazed around, swam and got burned (not a surprise to those who know me). 

Packing up and leaving, we were sad to say goodbye and found ourselves quite content with our random decision-making skills.

The journey to Plitvice was rather uneventful. It took about $30, two charter buses and finally a free local bus to arrive in the extremely wooded area. Amy had been there for half the day already and was able to find a good camp ground for us, as you are not allowed to actually camp in the National Park itself. We set up shop in the more forest-y area of the campground surrounded by quite the variety of Western European families with their top-of-the-line tents and winnebagos. It was very ‘Sound of Music’ with the rolling hills topped by  a red-roofed house and then occasional church steeple in the distance. 

We slept pretty soundly in our hammocks (Amy and I shared one) and woke up to the sounds of the church bells. Missing the 9 AM bus, we knew we had to figure out a way to go the 7 kilometers to the national park. Hitchhiking was the obvious choice and we didn’t wait long before a nice Croatian man on his way to Biograd, on the Croatian coast, stopped and gave us a quick ride. Entering the park was relatively easy, although the 110 Kuna (about 5.9 kuna to the dollar) and hordes of visitors were a little much for my taste

But, hands down, Plitvice Lakes National Park is one of the most beautiful places I have had the opportunity to visit. We hiked around the clearest, bluest, most intense lakes as waterfalls of varying heights surrounded us. According to the guidebook, it’s around 19.5 hectares with tons of wildlife, a multitude of species of birds and even some bears and wolves, although we didn’t see any. The dense forests, wooden footbridges, caves, cliffs, streams, marshes, etc., were breathtaking. Even the people-watching was entertaining as we observed girls wearing all sorts of non-hiking appropriate attire. Who wears an evening gown to go hiking? We took a ferry-boat, hiked, rode the trolley and just basked in the incredible beauty of the area. Although it would have been nice to spend another day in the park, one day was just enough for us. We made it back to the Korana AutoCamp for one more night’s sleep (although Amy didn’t sleep much as she chose to sleep on the ground and had some furry critters run across her sleeping bag) and left early the next morning. I hope this doesn’t hurt my karma but we somehow only ended up paying for 1 person to stay two nights, making the cost per person per night: 4.50 euro. Not bad. 

Ljubljana continued …

We got up around 6:30 and Andrej was up and ready to take us to our spot to hitchhike. This time, we were successful in making it all the way to Rijeka, Croatia without paying a dime. It did take 3 separate rides but nonetheless, we made it. The first guy was a Slovenian who picked up 2 other young travelers who had parked themselves in the same spot. We ended up talking more with the girl, a Slovenian, whose beauty was a little distracting. Our driver, as well as the girl and her boyfriend were on their way down another highway, so we only got as far as 30 minutes down the road. The next guy, a professional photographer with long hair and hipster glasses, drove us about 6 kilometers down the road. We then walked as far as we could before finding ourselves in a small park/rest-stop next to a tunnel. It had a port-a-potty so we figured we’d make this our spot. We didn’t have to wait long before a cute little German couple picked us up. They were going to an island off the coast of Rijeka so they obliged us in taking us the rest of the way. There wasn’t much communication, but they did listen to some kick-ass French music the whole way. After leaving Ljubljana at around 7:30, we arrived in Rijeka at around 1. We asked around for directions to the center and found our CouchSurfing host, Rudolph, exactly where he said he would be. 

We didn’t spend a whole lot of time in Rijeka but the time we did spend there was nice. Rudolph is, I can say with 100% conviction, the most socially awkward human being I have ever met. I feel really bad for the guy but it’s true. I hate to admit this, but I made Sarah keep up a majority of the conversation with him because he just did not understand my sarcasm (which I cannot seem to shut off) and kept getting confused, angry or hurt by my (obviously joking) comments. Despite this, we had a good time. We walked up a hill to tour the fortress and the panoramic views of the large port city and its many beautiful surrounding islands. Of course there was a visit, like always, to the small center of the Old Town where we admired it’s baroque architecture. After a little rest at his house (the old servant’s quarters of the castle, right next door), he and his friend drove us to a secluded area next to the Adriatic sea. We spent the next couple of hours swimming and getting to know our hosts. As the sun set on out first day on the Adriatic, we found ourselves pretty content with the way things had gone. 

We closed the evening by tasting some Croatian beers and wine, which turned out to be pretty good, I would say. 

The next day we made our way to Rijeka’s colorful piata, or market, to pick up fresh Serbian cheese, smoked ham and fruits and veggies that we planned to bring with us to Plitvice Lakes, where we were meeting back up with Amy. 

Rijeka was a really beautiful port city right on the Adriatic, although I’m not too sure it’s much of a tourist destination. Sarah and I did enjoy our short stay there, though. 

The next morning after arriving in Slovenia’s capital city, we awoke at 9 after our new friend (the other couch surfer staying with Andrej) inquired if we would like to spend the day together. Carolyn was a woman of about 30 getting her masters in English and Italian, and who came from a town just outside of Munich, Germany. She had decided to stop in Ljubljana for a few days before heading to Trieste, Italy for her friend’s wedding. We all got along great; one of the perks of traveling and meeting new people. Our first stop was the Ljubljana ‘Free Walking Tour’ (I seriously recommend doing this if you’re in the area) which was a wonderful two hours spent with an awesome guide just walking around the city and learning as much as we could about the place. If anyone is interested, it happens everyday at 11 and 3 and meets in front of the pink church. I’m such a history and somewhat of an architecture nerd which made the tour perfect for me (lots of information about the architect Plecnik and the national poet France Preseren). We next went by ourselves to Metelkova, an ex-army garrison that is now a ‘free-for-all’ commune started by squatters that is a smaller version of Copenhagen’s Christiania (which I’ve been to as well - Copenhagen’s is better but Ljubljana’s is still really cool to see) that is covered in beautiful graffiti and public art works. It’s quite incredible to see what a group of squatters can do to an area in the center of a capital city. I’m not sure how successful Americans would be in the same endeavor in the US. 

Our next stop was of course for food. We stopped at this great falafel place in the center and ate it on the banks of the river.  After taking a little nap in the area, we met up with our CouchSurfing host at a boat bar down along the river. There was a CouchSurfing meet-up, so we had the opportunity to meet other Slovenians from the area, as well as some ex-pats from the UK and a few other CouchSurfers who, like us, found themselves in Slovenia for the day. We had a few Slovenian beers before heading out to pick up another surfer at the bus station, Celine from France. After that, it was time to go home, shower and go to bed. The next day we were getting up early to hitchhike to Croatia.

We arrived at the train station in Ljubljana when it was already dark. We had contacted our CouchSurfing host earlier to tell him what time we were to arrive but we didn’t know where we were to meet him. Turns out, he was waiting for us just outside the doors of the train with his other Couch Surfer in tow. It was great. We literally walked only a few meters to his car and hopped right in. Andrej, 48 years old, was quite the character. The only real description I can give him is that he was a professional CouchSurfing host. He picked us up, drove around town showing us the sights and brought us directly to a music festival where he bought us beer and gave a little history lesson. The man barely stopped to breathe. After the concert, we drove to the Old Town where we had a mini-tour of the beautiful market, churches, river that ran through the center and the city’s many historic bridges. Along with the walking tour, he told us about his ex-wife, his 8 year old son and the business he runs by himself, working as a Mr. Fix-It. He was a very intense, interesting guy who, we got the feeling, was a bit lonely for attention. His own house felt like a hostel with the ‘house rules’ posted on the wall, time for showers and the metal beds and sheets you find so often in European hostels. We went to bed in the clean, comfortable beds, relishing in the fact that we weren’t paying a single dime to sleep there. 

Our first attempts at hitchhiking were highly successful, already filling our journals with stories about our adventures and new friends. We were optimistic about our future in the field and had no doubts at our ability to catch a ride (I mean,  we’re girls, who wouldn’t pick us up?) Well, we set up shop on a pretty busy road in Zagreb, thinking we wouldn’t have to wait long; our sign with ‘Ljubljana’ written on it in clear view. We were ready to go… Almost two hours later, we were still in the same spot. What were we doing wrong? We didn’t have time to think about this new failure as we gave up, packed up our stuff and headed to the center. In the hour we had before our train left for Slovenia, we realized (feeling very stupid at the same time) that Ivan, our CouchSurfing host, had completely told us the wrong spot to hitchhike. It was a road that went to another road, that went to the main road to Ljubljana. Our distaste for Ivan and Zagreb grew a little more in that moment. But now that we were safely in the train, seated next to a window, on our way to our destination, we couldn’t dwell on it too much. I mean, we did sleep for free in a capital city, did we not? The train ride was pretty standard. We sat next to a Chilean couple who we passed the time with by discussing our travels and future plans. They were both traveling through some major European cities before the girl (23 years) started her studies in Amsterdam and the boy (also 23) began his Italian adventures in some small city in Italy. It was nice to talk to some other travelers, although it was very strange for Sarah and I to be surrounded by so many English speakers/tourists after two years in Moldova. We left Zagreb at 5 and finally arrived in Ljubljana, Slovenia a little after 8. Our adventure taking a little more than 6 hours in what is only a 2 hour drive. Such is the life of a backpacker.