Chosen Fugue

They do make you stumble…

This was originally posted January 7, 2019. Since then we have stumbling over many stolpersteine. Each time we find one, either by chance or intent, we take a picture and add it here. Countries included- Germany, Hungary, Netherlands, Italy, Croatia, France. We see stoplersteine throughout Europe; big cities and tiny, repulsed by the reach of such hate. Remembering is even more essential now.

The past is far more salient in Europe compared to the US. Being that we are Californians living in Oregon, our day to day life generally does not include walking past anything that is more then 75 year old with the exception of our past LA subway commutes at Campo de Cahuenga http://www.laparks.org/historic/campo-de-cahuenga.

The past in Europe is at your feet; on cobblestone streets or just while
shopping or eating.The existence of many towns are reminders of the past, but there are also many distinct memorials.

We have found fascinating memorials, both formal memorial and informal https://chosenfugue.wordpress.com/2019/07/21/the-budapest-marathon/

Effective memorials are difficult to create. Stolpersteine are very effective. Stolpersteine, or stumbling block are remembrances of those murdered or displaced by the holocaust. They are placed at the last chosen home, work or school or where someone was forced to live. The people honored were murdered, forced to immigrate or just lost. They are placed for individuals or whole families who are then “reunited” by the Stolpersteine. http://www.stolpersteine.eu/en/

We first saw them in Berlin about 10 years ago, very concentrated in the old Jewish area. Some countries do not allow Stolpersteine or have proportionately few, many of these are countries that are reluctant to reflect on their own participation/complicity in the holocaust (Romania, Croatia). https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_cities_by_country_that_have_stolpersteine

It is decimating each time we stumble on the brass plaques. You are there, in their place.

Saarbrüken

while staying with our daughter, we passed Dilla almost daily (off and on) for 2 years

Frankfurt

Most of the Stopersteine are for Jews who were murdered since they were the primary group targeted but they also exist for slave laborers, the Sini, the Roma, developmentally disabled, Catholics, Jehovah’s Witness, partisans or LGBTQ who were also targets for extermination. Most are for individuals but there are some at hospitals or slave labor factories where the individual names will never be known.

Worms

Cologne (Köln)/ Bonn

Gegenbäch (Black Forest)

Heidelberg

Budapest

Amsterdam

Freiburg, they were everywhere (liberal, university town).

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is stopel1.jpg

Even in countries where there are many throughout the country, like Germany, there was local controversy as we saw in Munich, allowed only on private property. https://thechosenfugue.blogspot.com/search/label/Munich.

Some countries, like Bulgaria, that do not have Stolpersteine have a history that is far more benign than most.
https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/bulgaria

While others, like Croatia, have a more complicated history. In Split, Croatia, we did not see any Stolpersteine, but we did see this plague on the ground, which describes the destruction of the synagogue during Shabbat on 1942.

This was put in place in June 12 2018, 76 years after the attack on the synagogue “for the sake of the Split residents so that they become aware of this event that was repressed from their memory and that it must not happen again” (Mayor statement).

As with the Stolpersteine, this was placed in a sacred space. The plaque is in front of the now closed (in 2017) Morpurgo bookstore, which was the third oldest bookstore in Europe. We stumbled across it just after visiting the Jewish cemetery and seeing quite a few Morpurgo family member’s graves. The Morpurgos were the owners of the book store and the store (and family) were key players in the Croatian nationalism movement in the late 1800s. And then we saw a Stolpersteine for a Morpurgo outside the synagogue in Trieste, just up the coast from Split.

In Italy, they are called pietri d’inciampo and we found them throughout the country. These are just ones we saw, there were many more. Another reminder of how far the reach was.

While we did not go to Padua, the website for their pietri d’inciampo was staggering. http://www.lepietredinciampoapadova.it/index_english.html

Genoa https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pietre_d%27inciampo_in_Liguria#Provincia_di_Genova

Florence https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pietre_d%27inciampo_in_Toscana

Venice was the home of the original Jewish Ghetto and pietri d’inciampo were scattered throughout.https://sites.google.com/view/pietreinciampovenezia/le-pose/2022

In the Novo Ghetto were also bronze reliefs detailing the round up of Jews between 1943-1944

Bologna https://www.comune.bologna.it/servizi-informazioni/pietre-inciampo

Naples

Rome https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pietre_d%27inciampo_a_Roma

Ravenna, in front of an elementary school on a little side street.

Milan https://www-pietredinciampo-eu.translate.goog/persone-le-storie/?_x_tr_sl=it&_x_tr_tl=en&_x_tr_hl=en&_x_tr_pto=sc&_x_tr_sch=http

Bordeaux, France

Lyon, France

Stolpersteine, have become a constant. Wherever we go, we look for them, almost everywhere in Europe. Their presence or absence, in countries or cities that do not allow them, both serve as devastating memorials.

Dachau city, a few blocks outside of the concentration camp

Auf Weidersehen Croatia

For our last week (of five total weeks) in Croatia we continued our coastal tour southward spending several days in both Zadar and Trogir before catching our flight back to Germany on December 11. Zadar and Trogir, continued the theme of the Dalmatian Coast with ancient walled cities, ubiquitous limestone, Roman ruins, medieval churches, and rocky Adriatic beaches.

Miscellaneous pieces of Roman ruins creating a path

Alfred Hitchcock felt Zadar had the best sunsets in the world,

and these came with a sound track as an art installation design by architect Nikola Basic called the Sea Organ constantly plays musical notes from the waves. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sea_organ.

He also designed the adjacent Monument to the Sun which is an interactive dance floor of solar panels that light up in multiple colors after sunset.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monument_to_the_Sun
Unfortunately, this was being repaired while we were there, but there was other night life to be had, as the Advent/Christmas Program was in full swing. Each chilly night there was a concert in the town square. We even imbibed in the local rum punch, which tasted more like a stomach punch with an odd burnt cherry rum cough syrup edge.

We arrived at our last stop, Trogir, in a torrential downpour with thunder and lightening (Croatian Callum). It”s walled old city was a cramped confusing maze causing us to get lost in search of our place and subsequently drenched.

Completely soaked when we finally arrived, our host welcomed us with homemade walnut whiskey and hot tea. The walnut whiskey was incredibly tasty, maybe the best thing we’ve had the entire trip, and the best part was that she left the bottle. She also left a bottle of local favorite rikija, (like Italian grappa) but that gave us rum punch flashbacks.

Trogir an a emblematic Dalmatian coastal city, a perfect conclusion to our five week visit.

Limestone, limestone and more limestone with Advent lights

After four months on the road, 119 in 22 different places, we are back to Saarbrücken with the granddaughter for the the holidays as we figure out the next phase.

This week’s photo of topless old man looking out window contemplating his life…

“first one to the office Christmas party”

Pula, Treiste and Rijeka, the Istrian Trilogy: Part 2

Rijeka

* see part 1
Rijeka, the last Istrian Peninsula trilogy stop, is yet another Croatian port-town with Roman ruins, Venetian influences, daily Farmer’s Market and old city charm. But, for some reason, to us, Rijeka just felt right.
There were dilapidated buildings, neglected buildings and graffiti.

Beaches were both industrial and beautiful

plus plenty of cranes, the national bird of Croatia.

Buildings were beautiful

Churches inspiring

There were massive daily Farmer’s Market;

plus immaculate-limestone paved pedestrian shopping area (Korzo) with nice street art;

We were probably influenced by the exuberant opening of the Advent Market. The highlight was the Rijeka tunnel decorated for Christmas. Originally built in 1939 by the Italian military as a bomb shelter. Solid rock, 400 meters in length running from St Vitus Church to the primary school in the old town. After being closed for 75 years it was opened last year as a tourist attraction. We went on Friday to check it out, they said come back on Saturday. On Saturday, they said come back Sunday night. It was worth the wait. Rainbow and snowflake fairy lights, laughing children, pop up bars. In a country that has been constantly recreated through repeated strife and turmoil, on the eve of Advent, it seemed fitting to have a bomb shelter reborn full of joy. It was great.

We exited the tunnel onto the Korzo to find (what felt like) the whole city enjoying the Christmas Market and dancing to La Bamba and the Macarena.

A happy ending, close the book on a tale of three cities.

This week’s photo of topless old man looking out window contemplating his life \”woulda, coulda, shoulda” the topless old man Trilogy.

Obligatory Food Blog

November 30, 2018

So, time to talk turkey, our obligatory food post.
We know you have all been waiting for the food commentary especially during the food lull between Thanksgiving, Hanukah and Christmas. We can start by showing our ex-pat Thanksgiving meal from our kitchen in Pula.

As we rolled into this Italian influenced town in Northern Croatia, we thought this would be the foodie portion of the trip, and it has been, we talk about food far more then usual. We even talked about going out to eat, reading more then one curbside menu and pointing out restaurants as we passed. We focused on pizza and seafood as options. We had neither, nor did we really go out, but you can quiz us on every menu in Pula.

For background, eating can be challenging for us. Our limitations are-gluten free (P for 15 years, which needs to be added so she does not feel trendy), vegetarian (both), no black or garbanzo beans (N).

What have been the highlights? Having a home cooked meal at a friend’s house in London and our first few days in Saarbrücken-

Our Mexican fiesta in our Saabrucken apartment with Nick’s decorations

Considering our food choices at an all potato restaurant (Kerfuffle) in Saarbrucken

Decent Mexican food in Saarbrücken and Ghent, Belgium

Conversely, the lowlights have been going out to eat including the fish and chips failhttps://chosenfugue.wordpress.com/2018/10/27/scarborough-fair-moor-or-less/ the horrific Amsterdam interpretation of Mexican food and our attempt at getting British street food in Bath; a jacket potato for Patricia which was great and a Cornish pasty (cheese and spinach) for Nick which just tasted like a jacket. Surprisingly the other lowlight was not going out to eat. In Eastbourne UK on our first night, combining an unfortunate bag of gluten free noodles mixed with green (pea?) soup and then the next night mixing the other half of the noodle bag as an anchovy casserole which was even worse than it sounds (we are still tasting it).

Our most awkward meal moment was asking our very generous host at the Amsterdam bed and breakfast to eliminate the the tall stack of bread that she brought to us each morning along with jam, cheese, yogurt and fruit. She struggled to do so, each day treating the bread stack as a Jenga tower, maybe removing one slice without the height ever changing.

Our travels have been primarily through the aisles of supermarkets. We have gone to Rewe, Fredl, Aldi, Lidl, Netto, BioNature Mart, Delhaize, Albert Cuyp, Albert Heijin Bio and Bio, Spar, Marks and Spencer, Tesco, Morrison, Sainsbury, Spar, Tommy, Konzum, Waitrose, Istarski and many Farmer’s markets. Personal favorites were Albert Cuyp in Amsterdam and Waitrose in UK, Rewe in Germany (Nick), Aldi in Germany (Patricia) and every Spar in a variety of countries.

While there are differences between countries, there are some commonalities. Food staples are far less expensive than the US. In terms of our food essentials; eggs are very cheap $1-$2 for 10-12 eggs, milk $1 or less per liter, chocolate is dirt cheap and generally high quality especially in Amsterdam. One exception are nuts (one of our primary foods) which are more expensive than Trader Joe’s. There is also just less of processed foods. The packaged ready-to-eat food were usually decent as in the “1 main and 2 sides” of Marks and Spencer or Waitrose, like what you see in the prepared section at Whole Foods. Our prepared food phase in England consisted of buying fresh soup, pot pie, or vegetables.

Whenever there was “American” food, it was disgusting (mostly seen in Germany).

Of course there were differences in the markets in Europe and the US.There is no canned soup in Croatia, No one sells chocolate chips, rare to see salad dressing (which we don’t use and don’t miss), except in the UK, there are no 100% corn tortillas and “Mexican” is interpreted as Tex-Mex (usually) which is very sweet and spicy ketchup-like flavor, refried beans are a rare find, we substituted with whole kidney beans, Renal-Mex.

Farmer’s Markets are really Farmer’s Markets, they are daily and carry local, seasonal produce (and fish) at prices usually less expensive then the markets.

We do make an effort to try the local beer, wine and food. In Croatia when buying what we thought was spinach, we were introduced to Mangel, which are the leaves of a type of beet root. It took us 4 days to go through our kilo. At the Farmer’s market we also have bought a variety of jams; Fig, Apricot, Berry, Pomegranate, Cherry-all have been great. We have tried various forms of cheese: Trapist Sir, Tilsit, Emmanthaler, ButterKasse, Gouda (old and young) and Gauda, Basa, goat, Feta and others that we have no idea what the name was.

Since most places we stay at have, at minimum, a microwave and most have a full kitchen, we usually make our meals. Nick lives on eggs (next time we’re bringing our pet chickens). As an example, in Dubrovnik-66 in two weeks (with minimal help from Patricia). His other essential is his home-made “GORP” without the Granola or the Oats and more of a mix of cashews, raisins, almonds and peanuts, so “CRAP”. Sometimes walnuts and chocolates are added, to become, “WC CRAP”.

Our other go-to foods are carrots (which tasted better in Europe), apples, citrus fruits (amazing in Croatia), yogurt and berries, GF/corn pasta with whatever vegetables we get from the Farmer’s Market which sometimes works and sometimes not. We did make polenta once but it lasted for about 4 days overstaying it’s welcome (on day 1). But our staple is “anything you can fit on a corn thin” usually with either mustard, cheese and tomato or tuna. If we are partying then PB&J (100% peanut butter can be hard to find).

and yes, after eating, we often feel rather mangled

Surprisingly, after 15 weeks on the road and averaging over 6 miles a day walking we’ve each only lost about 10% of our body mass. Time to go read more menus.

Food blog rehashed on May 1 2023 https://chosenfugue.wordpress.com/2023/05/01/obligatory-food-blog-rehashed/

Bloc party in Zagreb

Another trip over the Alps, this time not by Easy Jet or elephant but by European Greyhound, the Flixbus, and this time not over the true Alps but the “Dinaric Alps” or also commonly called Dinarides (it’s highest peak is 8839 ft in Albania) the mountain range that runs north-south through the Balkans.

We arrived in Zagreb after a five hour bus trip from Split. Traveling from rock, scrub and olive trees to lush valleys surrounded by pine, while listening to a group of Croatian teens play a dirty version “Never, have I ever…” in a combination of Croatian and English. They read the questions in English, but unfortunately answered each other in Croatian, with lots of giggling.The day was dreary, cold and gray as we entered equally gray and bleak looking Zagreb, which actually felt rather refreshing after the past few weeks of the stunning views of the ancient Adriatic coast. Our rather drab first impression started to fall away as we were warmly welcomed by our very earnest apartment host, who texted us throughout our alpine journey to check on our arrival time so her son could pick us up from the bus station.

David met us and made a five minute walk a 3 minute walk to the car with a 1 minute drive to the apartment. We parked in front of a pockmarked concrete building in a massive housing block. All doubts about our housing choice were eliminated when we walked into a very homey apartment, probably the most pleasant we’ve stayed in. They even left us a chocolate bar.

We immediately set out on our traditional first day scouting, walking along a very clean (consistent throughout Croatia) street. Vukovarska Street was lined by candles, which we found out were there to commemorate the start of the Serbo-Croatian war on November 18, 1991 with the bombing of the city of Vukovar.

The walk was perfect! The boulevard flowed into an underground shopping street (below the train tracks) which opened up onto a classic, European grand square, complete with massive statues, beautiful buildings and the beginnings of a Christmas market-with a holiday skating rink/ track. This was the first of three Christmas markets we saw under construction as we wandered through Zagreb.

Zagreb is Croatia’s Capitol and largest city. Dubrovnik and Split felt and looked like coastal California if the California missions were limestone castles. Zagreb put us back into the Gestalt of Europe with grand buildings reflecting the changing roster of rulers; Roman, Ottoman, Napoleon, Austro-Hungarian and Communist Tito. The ubiquitous graffiti being the contribution of the new generation. Unlike the coastal cities clinging to the cliffs, Zagreb is in a spacious valley with plenty of room for multiple town squares surrounded by majestic churches, government buildings and palaces, a pleasing mishmash of styles, with a richer varied architecture and art than the old fort cities of Dubrovnik and Split.

While there was a lot to see, and since this was Croatia, a lot of stairs to climb, we were able to hit most of the tour-book sites in an afternoon.

Zagreb is like a layer cake- the top is the Kaptol where the clerics reigned. Here were government buildings, old convents and monasteries converted into museums.One museum was the former studio of favorite son, sculptor, Ivan Mestrovic. His sculptures have been a constant and familiar feature on our wandering through Croatia.

The Cathedral, like most, has been a work in progress for hundreds of years, remodeled by fires, earthquakes, wars and priorities of religious and secular (Communist) governments.

The middle layer is the Gradec where the secular rulers built their fancy buildings and squares. Gradec dropped into the bottom layer or Lower Town with restaurants, squares, more churches and interesting shops (not that we would buy anything). Many of these buildings were designed by architect Hermann Bolle (native German, adopted by Zagreb as their own) with streets and squares named after the prodigal son who never came home inventor Nikola Tesla (sculpture also by Ivan Mestrovic).

This was a far livelier area then our apartment in the surrounding crumbs.

On our walk back down, the candles were lit, another reminder of how recent the war was. In May of 1995, Zagreb suffered two days of civilian targeted cluster bombing in the waning days of the war.

After our usual stop at the market, we came home and made potato soup.
Our potato-rationed dreams were fulfilled as we awoke to snow.

In the morning, sitting in a warm kitchen, drinking tea and instant coffee, watching snow fall outside our window, and a stereotypic elderly, overweight Eastern European woman dressed just in her black bra hanging out laundry on her porch across the courtyard. Feeling the old Republic of Yugoslavia. Yeah, we could live here.

What better way to spend the snowy day then at the famous cemetery, Mirogoj Cemetery designed by Herman Bolle, as well. We walked around for nearly 2 hours absorbing the sublime beauty of the acres of buildings and grounds housing nearly 300,000.

A hand-bell was rung, as funeral processions passed, another reminder of the deep attachments to Old World traditions.

In contrast to the current and historical Balkan fighting, Catholics, Christian Orthodox, Muslims and Jews lie mixed together in peace. Although the tour-books mentioned Jewish graves and memorials, we could not find them on the map or during our fairly thorough exploration. This is pretty consistent with what we have read and seen about Croatia’s relationship with Jews; minimal references, poorly memorialized coupled with revisionist history. In the old cities of Split and Dubrovnik, we had to search to find the kiosk sized synagogues which seemed to exist only as tokens for the Jewish tourists. The one Jewish cemetery we have seen (Split), was completely neglected and no mention of why it was not used after 1945. It”s poor condition is most likely related to the virtual absence of Jews in Croatia, down from about 30,000 pre-WWII to about 500 now.

Walking down from Mirogoj Cemetery through the layers of the city, again, experiencing the Balkan melange of beauty and ugly- passing the Children’s Hospital that was deliberately targeted on the last few days of the war, deterioration of the buildings due to neglect and, those magnificent buildings.

We loved Zagreb. It had a positive energy, it reminded us of Liverpool in some ways. It was mix of everything good and bad in Croatia, and consistent with it’s Cathedral, with each disaster and revolving government, it perseveres.

This week’s photo of topless old man looking out window contemplating his life “Never have I ever, …anything”

Hvala Dubrovnik, Dobar dan Split

Most tourists are only here for a few hours unloaded from tour group buses then repacked at the end of the day. So, since we’ve been here almost 2 weeks we are now eligible to vote. We qualify because we have done everything you can do here besides the stuff that costs money.
That included climbing Srd Mountain, the steep 1352 foot mountain directly behind the Old City.
Since it was there, we had to go to the top. There is a gondola that can take you to the top in a few minutes but where\’s the fun in (paying for) that so we hiked for an hour instead.

The hardest part was finding the direct way to the entrance, which we didn\’t find although we did find Bernard Shaw St and took that to the entrance, crossing the main highway to get the the start of the trail.
George Bernard Shaw once called Dubrovnik \”the pearl of the Adriatic, those who seek paradise on Earth should come to Dubrovnik\”. So, naturally they named a street after him.

The trail up Srd Mountain was initially cool and wooded with cypress and pine trees transitioning to a barren, rocky landscape as we climbed higher.
The trail was steep with numerous cutbacks and at the end of every cutback turn was a large Station of the Cross plaque. Going off the trail was discouraged because it is not clear if all the Serbian landmines have been removed from the mountain.

The unseasonably hot day coupled with the uneven rocky trail and threat of unexploded mines made this Stations of the Cross journey a little less intense than Nick\’s three hour Queen of All Saint\’s Good Friday ordeals growing up.

Pine, laurel and cypress were being burned below smelling sort of like incense so there were flashbacks as well.

Once we got to the top we stayed for few minutes trying to avoid other people\’s selfies in front of the Imperial Fortress built by Napoleon in1806. Another aha moment, realizing that Napoleon got this far east. The fortress was repurposed by Serbia to launch attacks/bombs during their siege of Dubrovnik and now repurposed by the Croats for a war memorial museum.

Over those hills, Montenegro and Bosnia/Herzegovina

In order to allow Patricia some childhood flashbacks, we walked down the other side of the mountain which resembled the hills surrounding the San Fernando Valley. We had our wild animal moment, encountering some Jackasses on the road just like the 101 freeway.

Note goal nets

Continuing our civic experience we took a local bus to Cavtat about 12 miles south of Dubrovnik, another pretty Croatian coastal town. We sound jaded because we are now locals, but it did have it\’s unique charms; water polo area in the harbor (salt water polo)?

Greater Dubrovnik is apparently famous for its water polo teams winning multiple championships

According to our Mostar tour guide, Croatia excels at sports most other countries are not interested in, as with Dubrovnik and water polo, the tiny village of Metkovic, which we drove thru, is famous for its handball champions.

We hiked along the beach for a few miles and somehow ended up back where we started not realizing we had walked along a finger-like peninsula. Then we walked in the other direction and the same thing happened, it was like walking a Mobius strip. The town is made up of two thin polyp- peninsulas it gave us the finger twice for our geographic ignorance.

We are also now experts on the supermarkets of Durbornik, usually going to either Tommy or Konzum (means consumption in Croatian) and which we hope is pronounced consume.

Language-wise, we are still struggling. Nick has been mocked in his earnest attempts. One native commented that he speaks better Chinese than Nick speaks Croatian, and all Nick said was \”ne hvala\” (no thank you). Ouch! We can see why they were always fighting. Or, maybe he thought he was speaking Serbian, which actually is the same language, or used to be. Since the war, each country has taught their own slight variation of the original, unified Serbo-Croatian/Yugoslavian language. Croats have even gone so far as outlawing the Cryllic alphabet which Serbia has readopted and of course, Bosnia Herzogovina uses both.

Here\’s a link to an article in the NY Times (11/20/18) about Mostar similar to what we witnessed, better explaining the continuing differences which frighteningly portents the path the US and other nations are taking with the nationalism/ populist movements https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/19/world/europe/mostar-bosnia-ethnic-divisions-nationalism.html

Dubrovnik was still on our minds as we drove into Split. Starting with the bus station, rarely a good start, we were turned off by an initial feeling of neglect and general tackiness with restaurants, kiosks and shops obscuring the main attraction of the tourist draw- Diocletian\’s Palace.

Original walls went right up to the water, thanks Wikipedia

Remodel; paved paradise, put up a boardwalk

Diocletian was a 4th century Roman Emperor who retired to Split, using his 401K in 305 AD. His retirement palace was used as a fixer upper by each subsequent generation, adding, tearing down and repurposing the original along the way. The palace and later, medieval fortifications became a framework for the growing city, utilized for both residential and commercial. The mausoleum became the cathedral, a Roman temple became a museum and the bed-chambers became a Konzum.

Everything else became either a Game of Thrones filming location, upscale shops or an Air B&B. We thought our Air B&B might have been the old palace bathroom at first, but then realized the smells were due to the adjacent fresh fish market and sulphur hot springs, which are housed in Patricia\’s favorite building in Split.

Outside of the old city, the Venetian and Austro-Hungarian influences are strongly felt with beautiful Secession-style architecture tempered with the benign neglect of communist years.

As we walked through the city, we appreciated it more. There was this odd functional blend of every period, using what was there to fit the needs of the time. While the beauty was evident in many places, sometimes we needed to squint to see it, obscured by multiple centuries of remodels.

After our first day requisite walk through the city, the second day we hiked Marjan Hill, all 584 feet.

Marjan Hill seen later that evening

We were joined by half of the city of Split, going for a Sunday morning walk. The inventor of the Fit-Bit must have been Croatian, because they seem to be obsessed with steps, always identifying how many steps until the destination.

Marjan is a lovely in-town forest with ancient hermitages (little rock hermit houses), 12th century St. Nicholas church (everywhere has at least one St. Nicholas church, he and Napoleon definitely got around) and the overgrown, Jewish cemetery. Although the cemetery has not been used since 1945, the building is still in use, repurposed as a restaurant with a very nice view.

Hmm, why not used since 1945?

Split considers itself the \”sportiest city in Europe\” with more than 90 Olympic athletes hailing from Split. Their Hollywood Walk of Fame is a series of plaques honoring Olympians along the very busy boardwalk, the Riva, along the marina. Olympics, handball and water polo championships and almost winning the World cup this summer, losing in the finals to France. Very impressive for a 27 year old country of about 4.2 million people-it must be the steps.

This week\’s photo of topless old man looking out window contemplating his life: \”I did 12 steps today.\”

Croatia 2: The War and Mostar

this entry was imported in an older format and looks pretty bad, can’t change it.

Every silver lining has a cloud. Dubrovnik is another European city that has been touched by war. It’s ironic and fitting that a Balkan area was chosen for some of the filming of the Game of Thrones; a series about the 7 kingdoms of Westeros fighting for the throne of a united Westeros. The Croatian-Serbian War was less than 30 years ago, from 1991-95. It resulted in the former Republic of Yugoslavia, a country cobbled together after World War I, being broken into 7 “kingdoms” after the Balkan Wars.

Seeing the Old City’s war scars from the Serbian bombing and siege of Dubrovnik in 1991 during our initial dazed walk lead us to try to understand how a war between two groups, the Serbs and the Croats, involving three main religions (Roman Catholic, Orthodox Christian and Muslim) resulted in the former Republic of Yugoslavia being divided into 7 separate countries: Slovenia, Croatia, Macedonia, Montenegro, Kosovo, Serbia, and Bosnia/Herzegovina. It just shows how lasting ethnic memory can be.

It was beyond our outsiders ability to sort out the ethnic and religious differences and

centuries old animosities that resulted in over 100,000 dead and 2.2 million being

displaced as refugees. We were fortunate to hear 2 different lengthy discussions on the

region from our tour guides (one Croatian Catholic, the other Bosniak Muslim) on our day

trip to Mostar, Bosnia/Herzegovina, The admittedly oversimplified lessons by the guides

helped us (slightly) better understand the history. Bosnia/Herzegovina, one of the

“kingdoms” of the former Republic of Yugoslavia, lies in the middle of the area. It has

always been an unstable mix of Muslim Bosniaks, Orthodox Christian Serbs, and Catholic

Croats, and remains so.

Mostar, along with Sarajevo, was the epicenter of the “war within a war” in Bosnia-Herzegovina. The Croatian-Bosniak War began in 1992 when Croatia and Bosnia, initially fighting together against the Serbs, started fighting each other. against the Bosniak Muslims by both the Serbs and the Croats; the Serbs in Sarajevo and Serbs and Croats in Mostar. Many of the Serbian and Croatian military leaders overseeing cleansing atrocities were later arrested and tried in The Hague, receiving lifetime imprisonment. The Serbian Slobodan Milosevic, the president of Yugoslavia and instigator of the initial Serbian-Croatian War, died while awaiting trial-felt to be a slow suicide when he declined medical care and stopped taking his medication dying of a heart attack in 2006. Last year during The Hague trials, the Croatian general Slobadan Praljak drank poison and died as his conviction was read in court. He was accused of ordering the destruction of the Stari Most bridge (see below) and a mosque amongst many other war crimes. He is still considered a hero to many Croats despite his conviction. As is Milosevic to many Serbians. It seems that people can rationalize their hatreds.

Mostar was almost entirely destroyed by first the Serbs and then finished by the Croats, including it\’s Balkan-Islamic iconic 16th century Ottoman era bridge, the Stari Most over the river Neretva. The city still is recovering with visible abandoned bombed out buildings and bullet scarred walls.

The destroyed bridge was rebuilt, an exact copy, even using some of the original stone. It took seven years to rebuild the bridge, completed in 2004, along with the tourist area immediately surrounding it. The bridge links two sides of the city and serves as a major tourist draw, a scenic postcard shot.

Mostar is a poor, raw-nerved multi-cultural city living uneasily together with the bombed out buildings a reminder of the lack of capital, of the refugees who have chosen not to return and of the people continuing to leave. Mostar needs every coin it can collect as it is a mess of a tourist site. Mostar was the first place we were warned to be careful not to stray far from the tourist center areas, be aware of pickpockets and restaurant credit card scams.

Mostar is a microcosm of the residual poverty and confusion resulting from the cultural identity issues of Bosnia/Herzegovina. The ineffectual government (as described by our native guide) has three heads of state, one from each ethnic background, who rotate every 8 months as leader. Fascinating and frightening. Our Bosniak guide frequently referred to Bosnia/Herzegovina’s efforts to join the EU, pointing out various examples of ethnic harmony, which we later better understood upon reading that their membership is being blocked by their continued difficulty in managing their multi-ethnic society.

So Mostar continues to mine tourism for much needed funds. It is the only country we have visited to accept virtually any currency–Croatian kuna, Euro or Bosnia/Herzegovina convertible mark. They also have created novel tourism opportunities. Bridge jumpers wait for tourists to collectively pitch in 50 euro then they jump from the Stari Most. During a 90 minute period, one jumper jumped three times. Tourists can also pay the city 50 euro to jump, but after two tourists (one Australian the other German) died attempting it is heavily discouraged.

Tourists still use the bridge but not for jumping – taking silly pictures, oblivious to the history of tragedy around them- far less risky.

Just up the hill from the bridge, we walked thru a Muslim cemetery where almost every tombstone date, life ended in -1993, when the worst fighting occurred. Almost all men, almost all relatively young. Pain still palpable.

Mostar looks to be years away from recovery, but Durborvnik with UNESCO preservation, EU investment and tourism money has recovered. Dubrovnik has had a starring role in bothGame of Thrones and Star Wars which contributes to it’ ‘s tourist draw Our ignorance of this region, as well as other tourist’s historical ignorance was best summed up by an anecdote from one of our tour guides. After completing a Game of Thrones tour, the tourist said it was so generous of HBO to have left all the sets, including the magnificent castle walls of the Old City!

UPDATE: Since visiting and writing this post, this story was published in NY Times which provides much greater insight and detail to this post. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/19/world/europe/mostar-bosnia-ethnic-divisions-nationalism.html?action=click&module=News&pgtype=Homepage

Kravica Falls on our way from Dubrovnik to Mostar

Croatia 1: Dubrovnik on the rocks

NOTE: This was posted in the older format so it looks pretty bad, sorry.

Hannibal crossed the Alps on elephants, we used Easy Jet. Same comfort and trunk space with equally dramatic scenery, but no peanuts. The clouds conveniently parted on our flight, and the Alps appeared below, the definition of majestic, and a completely different view and feeling then flying over the Rockies or Sierra Nevada- our frames of reference. We crossed the Alps, turned south above the Adriatic Sea, offering a lovely aerial tour of Dubrovnik’s coast with it’s sliver of beach, before we floated downward, eased between the mountains into a narrow opening of an airport between the peaks onto a tarmac consisting of two thin airstrips for take offs and landings.

If any place has solved the Scarborough Fair riddle of finding “an acre of land between the salt water and the sea sand” it’s Dubrovnik. The cliff hugging city lies against a coastal mountain range. We landed at twilight to a quiet almost deserted terminal. Everything felt muted and ethereal, the lighting at dusk, the stillness and quiet. The outside air was absent of heat or cold, eerily surreal. Our airport bus drove along a ribbon of road overhanging a few hundred feet above the Adriatic Sea, venturing through the carved mountainsides forming narrow stone hallways for the bus to descend into the dream-like old city.

It was as if we fell into Xanadu.

We wandered for about 40 minutes trying to find our AirB&B which was just a few meters away, just past the Pile Gate inside the walls of Old City. Google maps was confused and we were pretty awe-struck, but we were finally able to focus and find our home for 2 weeks which came with a washing machine, so all was good. The Old City’s walls and streets are made of limestone and are amazingly clean, with statues, churches, fountains, stairs, nooks, crannies- everywhere you look, there is something to see, every few steps you stop, gasp and admire with jaw dropping.

The Old City acts like an cranky old man. It’s unable to sleep, waking up before 6 am rustling, making inappropriate, odd noises which apparently are carts rolling in loudly over the cobbled limestone (no cars, so goods are delivered via wagons, carts and golf cart-trucks). The narrow walkways between tall buildings amplify the even the quietest of sounds. Since this is the low season, repairs are being done with workers hammering and drilling very early, and of course right next door. Throughout the day and night, we also hear voices- many different languages, from the early morning workers, to children playing soccer in the plaza, singing from the bars, conversations from restaurants and screeching cats (so many cats).

Outside our door the first morning

Outside our door the second morning

The Old Man-City seems to be forgetful, or may have misplaced the clocks, as the five churches ring their Angelus at the oddest times 11:14 am, 4:42 pm 6:24 pm, 7:45 pm seemingly inconsistent from day to day.

This time of year, tourism slows down, giving us room to explore this relatively small city. When the cruise and tour groups come through, it feels very crowded and we can’t imagine what it would feel like during the summer. The Old City is surrounded by terraced houses on one side and the Lapad peninsula on the other. Most Dubrovniks live outside of the Old City, it used to have 5,000 residents now just 500 as almost everyone has turned their homes into rentals. Lapad has the newer port where the cruise ships come in, pebbly beaches, a tiny city forrest, and a fish market. Since the town is set vertically against the mountains, steps, up to 400 in some areas connect you to the next tightrope of a street. From every location the vista are unbelievable.

If Los Angeles had a geographic grandfather, it would be Dubrovnik; hills like Malibu Canyon, hiking trails like the Hollywood Hills, cypress and citrus trees like the San Fernando Valley,

farmer’s market (okay everywhere has a farmer’s market).

There’s even a Sunset Beach!

Plus there are Bob’s Big Boy themed soccer jerseys.

This week’s photo of topless old man looking out window contemplating his life:

“I used to be the most interesting man in the world”

Time for London

Christian Marclay\’s spellbinding installation \”The Clock\” is a 24 hour long montage of thousands of film and television clips of scenes with clocks, edited and synchronized to show real time. We had the fortune to stumble onto it at the Tate Modern Museum in London. Due to the crowds we were only able to watch it for about 10 minutes from 3 pm to 3:10 pm. People were let in in groups of ten into a large room filled with maybe 50- 60 couches to view. We were literally nudged off the couch after 10 minutes, otherwise we would have stayed until the museum closed. It was memorizing with the anticipation of what the next minute would bring. It made every scene shown no matter what movie it was extracted from, more suspenseful and interesting. We left wanting to see each entire movie the clips were pulled from. The editing was such that it seemed to flow and tell it\’s own fascinating story. The installation was apropos of our travels; the awareness of time, catching buses, catching trains, running to new platforms and making connections, the rhythm of the day, the changing sky, times to eat, walk and rest. But also the unexpected of what is next; and the unexpected beauty around (well almost) every turn, rounding a corner to find a spectacular building, a truly take-your-breath-away painting, a meadow opening from a wooded trail, an iconic vista or staggeringly impressive sunset. Call it serendipity, luck or in this case just good timing, discovering these surprises has been the fuel for travel.

Even train stations provided the unanticipated when we spotted trainspotters. Didn\’t realize this was actually a thing, but it is a very real and kind of a fascinating niche. We first saw them at a stop at the York train station (apparently a prime location for this activity) Guys (almost always only guys) with binoculars, notebooks, ipads, and cameras waiting, watching and recording the types of trains and their locomotive identification number. With station security getting tighter this can now also be done from home with closed circuit tv links/live streaming, chat rooms/online sites. https://railcam.uk/. Here are a few we saw in Reading (wearing train station camouflage?) no worse I guess than other hobbies like following the Minnesota Twins which are just a train wreck.

Not looking at the Rosetta Stone

We hadn\’t originally planned to see London, but with 3 days before our flight to Dubrovnik, we settled on Horley 25 miles south of London as a compromise for it\’s proximity to 3 areas-first- Surrey Hills Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (it\’s actual name, so hard to pass up). The train from Oxford actually traversed much of this area, and it looked similar enough to the other areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty in the UK that we decided it wouldn\’t require further investigation. Second area was London. The train dropped us off at the London Bridge Station (the bridge is gone, but fortunately they left the station). We first went to The British Museum, which if all the people we\’ve seen in all the museums we\’ve visited on our trip, had decided to meet in one place this was it. The line to get in was close to half mile long. It was packed. Looking at Rosetta Stone, don\’t they know they can get it in any language online (just like trainspotting)? The Parthenon section was one of those take-your-breath-away moments, but it was a guilty pleasure considering how everything had been \”borrowed\” from Greece. As per the museum\’s explanation, this \”borrowing\” has preserved the pieces from further damage, destruction and pillage; which unfortunately is very relevant due to pollution, global economics and religion/war (Taliban, Iraq, Syria, etc). We meandered through this huge repository of the world\’s culture, passing through the many displays of china (felt a little like the Bloomingdale\’s wedding registry). Once we squeezed out of The British Museum, we toured the Tate Modern. We have the pleasure of daughters who are well versed in art, which definitely has enriched our museum viewing; especially in regards to curation. The Tate really shone for us in this area with interesting pairings of artists and themes. In addition to The Clock, the Tate also had a Guerilla Girls exhibit and Jenny Holtzer section- both of whom figured prominently in our youngest daughter\’s teen years, so visiting these almost felt like time traveling.

During our travels, Patricia has felt, at times, somewhat unmoored (even though we spent almost a week in The Moors). For a night her fugue settled a bit, eating an (excellent) home cooked meal at the home of her closest friend from teen years (who has lived in London for 36 years) and her wonderful partner. Provided a bit of grounding and a bit of home which at times is missed.

As with London, we hadn\’t originally planned to go to Horley (well, who would? Patricia\’s London based friend had never visited). We did feel that now that we had chosen Horley, we needed to actually experience Horley. Like all British towns, this was inexplicably filled with thrift shops and barber shops. But in this case we actually took advantage of these bonanzas Patricia at the thrift shops ( (seeking gloves as Patricia has lost 1 1/2 pairs) and Nick at the barber shop. Nick got his professional haircut for the first time in over 3 years which the barber noted, as the first thing she asked was if he cuts his hair himself (yes), because it looked pretty chopped up. We also found the \”area of outstanding natural beauty\” in Horley at a large forested park along the River Mole, utilized by locals to walk their dogs or as a short cut bike commute from the train station or airport. The park info sign noted it has remained untouched for several centuries even though it was half a mile from Gatwick and was reminiscent of the 100 Acre Woods (and we did see poo.)

Finally, our third reason for the Horley choice, the airport trip to another out-side of Schengen area location- Croatia. A quick drive to Gatwick, and a lovely Easy Jet flight to Dubrovnik.

This week\’s photo of topless old man looking out window contemplating his life:

College tour and the Cotswolds

It\’s mid Fall, we\’re seniors, we don\’t know what we\’re doing next year. So, it\’s time for college tours.

Oxford

Cambridge

There are a lot of similarities between the University of Cambridge and University of Oxford. Both are actually a collection of multiple colleges, up to 30+ in each place (Cambridge has 31, Oxford 38) with many same named colleges in both-e.g. Trinity College, Christ\’s College, Clare College, Magdalene College, King\’s College and Jesus College. Both cities are filled with historically beautiful old campus buildings dating back to 1200\’s, Most of the colleges with photogenic/film recognizable central courtyards. We respected that most of the college courtyards are closed to non students or cost to enter and tour (The cost of higher education). Both towns have lots of bicyclists, but the bigger risk were tourists. Brought in by the busloads, the streets filled with tourists-all constantly stopping to take pictures/selfies. We were endlessly photo bombing, dodging and bumping into people who would suddenly stop mid sidewalk. (Dodging bikes was easier than the hordes of tourists)

So, these definitely weren\’t our safety schools.

Cambridge

Despite all the overlaps, both college towns felt completely different. Both had incredibly stunning old buildings, both had small river canals with flat boats for punting (standing with long poles to push the boat along A la Venice), but in Cambridge, the colleges felt slightly separated from most of the town and had more distinct boundaries along the River Cam. So, the beauty of the buildings stood out more against greener surrounding parks and quads.

In Oxford the campuses were more incorporated into the town center, muting the striking visuals of the buildings.

As far as next year-the reality is we are not ready for college. It will probably end up being (another) gap year as we are still trying to find ourselves and figure out what we really want to do.

Oxford

As with the majority of English towns, you just feel the history as you walk around, in Cambridge the town was captioned to help out.

There were also a bunch of very idiosyncratic museums to choose from, each with it\’s own very unique claim to fame. A lot of choices but we settled in Cambridge on the Fitzwilliam.

FitzWilliam

In Oxford, we had more time so more museums; Bodleian Libraries -Tolkein exhibit and a display covering the (unhealthy) medical history of the Royal family, Ashmolean (the first modern public museum) and Natural History/Pitts River. With each museum, we again found new favorites, saw variations of pictures/sketches we saw in other museums/countries and appreciated the differences between each museum and each country\’s individual take on what belongs in a museum. And as we walked through, periodically, you would just be hit with awe; pages from Mary Shelley\’s first draft of Frankenstein, mummified Dodo bird face and Venus de Willendorf (figured prominently in our daughters\’ 8th grade education). While we were very happy to spend a few days meandering through all of these, the Natural History/Pitts River was pretty high on the astonishing list. Wandering through the collection of old bones and taxidermy coupled with huge sculptures of scientific giants with the sounds of laughing and screaming kids was very enjoyable. As you walk past the skeletons of giraffes and elephants, you enter the Pitts River museum, which essentially looks like rows of antique store cabinets combined with your grandmother\’s junk drawer. (or a garage sale under glass)

After all of the mental stimulation, we decided to take a day-trip to Bath at the southern tip of the Cotswolds for health/spa day. Famous for it\’s Roman baths/mineral springs, but our first stop was to a travel clinic (in an sporting goods store) to get flu shots, however the clinic was closed. Bath had some very pretty areas, but it seemed to predominately be shops. The town center felt like an outdoor shopping mall with big box stores and specialty shops. Once out of the center we were able to see the landmark sites such as the Royal Crescent, The Circus, the River Avon, before stopping at the thermal baths. There the line went out into the street, and we didn\’t want to be in hot water with anyone we saw in line. So instead we got ice cream and walked around the shops some more but sadly, there wasn\’t any Bath House of Pies, or Bed, Bath Bath and Beyond.

Update: We were able to get our flu shots two days later in Oxford. Here they are called flu jabs, it was done by a pharmacist at a Boots Pharmacy (we were walk-ins and it cost 13 pounds each), she didn\’t wear gloves or use an alcohol wipe, and called the cotton ball applied after the jab a cotton wool which immediately fell on the floor, but she said that was ok because it wasn\’t needed because there was no bleeding.

Site of the Labrador in the \”Venice of the Cotswolds\”

Cotswolds-we took the train to Moreton-in-Marsh, bus to Stow-on-the-Wold, hiked 4 miles to Bourton-on-the-Water. Lots of silly names, we by-passed Chipping Norton, Hook Norton, Icomb, Great Rollright and we did see a Labrador in the Water (not a town name, an actual labrador in the water in Bourton-on-the-water) which was kind of a highlight of the trip.

England is full of walking paths and we were excited to venture out, this time aided by an official copy of instructions purchased for 10 p from the Stow-on-Wold librarian. As with the Yorkshire walk, these instructions, while highly detailed ( \”turn half-left through a farm gate then follow the hedge line across three fields\”) lacked any mention of distance or how to tell which hedge line with there are many or how to tell when one field began and another ended. Luckily, there were random fence posts along the way with tiny arrows indicating that you were on the Monarch Way or the Heart of England or the MacMillian path. Regardless of our befuddlement, we enjoyed a beautiful day with less aggressive animals then our past walks.

After our day-trip to the Cotswold, we returned to our last day in Oxford to find:

Topless old man? Yes, home from a day at the beach, Antony Gormley piece, Another Time II.

This week\’s photo of topless old man looking out window contemplating his life: Halloween edition \”I\’m Batman!\”