It's all Dobro

There she is, my pretty little itinerary from the last two weeks.
I. Am. Exhausted.

Don't get me wrong, I had a great trip, and I'm glad I went, but I would lying if I said it wasn't good to sitting on my parents's couch in California enjoying a decent cup of coffee.

This will be my last blog post for a while, as I still have almost a month before I start rehearsals in England again for the next cruise contract--this time on the Sojourn and the Odyssey for Seabourn. This contract is going to be a DOOZIE--11 1/2 months total! But I will be seeing some incredible places I never even dreamed I'd see (Mozambique, Gambia, Bulgaria), as well as places I've been dreaming of seeing (South Africa, Morocco, Cambodia, The Phillipines....)

But first, the places I just recently saw!

I hit four countries this time around: Hungary, Serbia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Croatia. I had touched a bit into Croatia and BiH on my last flight deferment, but this time I stayed mostly in the northern areas. Hungary and Serbia, however, were completely new for me.

I decided to begin and end my trip in Budapest for three reasons:

1. I'd heard it was gorgeous.
2. There is no way I'd ever see it while working on a cruise ship.
3. It was cheaper.

What can I say.

But it ended up being a great choice, as it was easy access to the rest of my itinerary, as well as being a good jumping-off point for this part of Eastern Europe. Budapest is definitely more European than Eastern, but the Ottoman (and other) influences are still there.

When i first arrived, I was tired and sweaty and gross from having been up since 6:30 that morning doing all the things one must do to disembark a ship, so when I arrived at my homestay and was greeted by Ilona, my hostess, I pretty much showered and plopped right down for a nap. I eventually dragged myself out of the queen-sized bed (my first in months!!) and indulged in some pizza and gin (also my first in months!). It tasted like triumph.

The next day was gloriously sunny and beautiful (a welcome change from the frozen two weeks of Norway I'd just had), so I rented a bike and covered a lot of ground.
I did have a little moment of smug victory while renting the bike: the owner, clearly unimpressed by yet another Anglophone tourist in his shop, asked if it was my first time in Budapest. I said yes, that I was very excited to be there. He then asked--as i'm sure he has a million times before--where my next destination was, "Vienna, probably..."
"No, actually, I'm heading to Novi Sad."
"Oh...really?"
"Yup. I have friends there."
"REALLY?"
"Yes...?"
and then he gave an appreciative nod, like maybe I wasn't like every other tourist he'd seen that day. A small thing, but I'll admit it made me feel special!

After a quick breakfast of flódni (A traditional Jewish layer cake that is outstanding) and coffee, I set off across the bridge to the Buda side of town.
My first stop required me to chain up my bike, since there was no way I could to where I wanted to go without getting crushed on a freeway. I took a few buses down to Memento Park, a sort of repository for Soviet-era statues that were removed with the fall of the Iron Curtain.
It was kind of an eerie place, but chock full of symbolism and history. I'm no history buff, but they had a great little museum listing off all the important movements that led to Hungary's liberation from communism. The most striking piece there was the original statue of Lenin, which had been sawed off at the ankles, so only the boots remained. That statue became a symbol for the anti-communist revolution, and there I was was, looking at it.
They also had a cool little feature at the park: a telephone booth where you could listen to famous speeches by communists leaders and thinkers. I got to hear the voices of Mao, Lenin, Stalin, Che, and Fidel, which I had never heard before (Che had a strange inflection!).

I made it back to my bike and just explored as much as I could. I stopped at Margret Island and had myself a little picnic lunch on the grass in the sun. It reminded me of Central Park in NYC, and I got just the tiniest bit homesick. I continued on to beautiful Hero's Square, into the City Park, then down past the Opera House.
After a shower and a big dinner of goulash and spaetzle, I walked downtown, across the bridge, and enjoyed the lights of Budapest at night. Walking back across the bridge, I went past St Ivan's church, which was spectacularly lit, then wandered into Gozsdu Udvar, a sort of pedestrian backalley filled with bars. I ended up at a small Jewish restaurant, drinking wine and listening to an old pianist playing Broadway medleys and klezmer music. It was a beautiful day.

The next day, I took a small side trip up the Danube on ferry to Szentendre. It was once an artist's haven, but it's now a cute little town with lots of crafts and tasty little cafes. I also got to experience lángos , which I predict will be the new food trend in New York catering to drunks at 3am. It's essentially fry bread covered in sour cream and shredded cheese, served blisteringly hot straight out of the fryer. It was intense.
When I cam ehome that night, Ilona informed me it was her birthday, so we chatted and drank some champagne. Then she took me to her favorite pub down the street where there was a live band playing. It was very nice, and very amusing to hear American pop tunes sung in a thick Hungarian accent (my favorite was CeeLo Green's "Forgot [sic] You").

Then it was off on the train to Novi Sad, crossing the border into Serbia.

I was met at the train station by Dragana, whom I'd worked with two years ago at Santa's Village in New Hampshire. It was surreal to see her again! We went to the reastaurant where our friend Sonja works, and we had a screamy little girl's reunion.
Then it was back to Sonja's to meet her fiancee, drinka lot of rakija, and tell endless stories. We had to drag ourselves away orm the apartmetn at about 2:30 to try to to catch the end of Dragana DJing at a local club, but we missed it. Which, of course, meant going home and having more rakija. Obviously.

The next morning, I was treated to homemade, freshly brewed Serbian (Turkish) coffee, after which Sonja "read" thegrounds in my cup. Essentially, she decided that I would be looking at a new beginning, and positive thoughts bring me out of the mud. She also advised me to put a period at the end of a story, even though someone won't want it. Who knew you could see so much in ground coffee? I made one final wish in the ground, and we were off to have lunch at a mountaintop restaurant.

I was introduced to some traditional Serbian foods, including my favorite, kajmak cheese, which is essentially their version of clotted cream, which is the best thing anyone has ever done to milk.

We madeour way back to top via bus, then we walked to the riverside (still the Danube, "Duna" in Serbia) and watched the sun play on the fortress. The girls then surprised me with a tanktop they'd had specially made for me to commemorate my trip to Novi Sad. I was so touched, and it was so incredible to be able to see them again, two years after we left each other in New Hampshire. 

It brought to mind one of my favorite sayings: "The world is round, so we will meet again." You never know when you'll get to see someone you haven't seen in a very long time...

It was a short bus ride from Novi Sad to Belgrade, and I arrived right as night fell. I made it to my hostel--the only hostel I stayed at during this whole trip--and relaxed with some more rakija with the other hostel dwellers.Unfortunately, these same hostel dwellers chose to have a crappy guitar jam session at about 3 in the morning, but such is the price you pay for staying in a cheap hotel with a bunch of 20-somethings from Des Moines or wherever.

(nothing against you Des Moines-ians!)

(kind of)

Belgrade is the largest capital city in the Balkans, so I set off at a decent hour to see what there was to see. I started at Kalemegdan Fortress, which has overseen Belgrade's protection for centuries. Then on to Skardilja, which is kind of the West Village of Belgrade. I wandered the cobblestone streets, then snacked on some local beer and kajmak with good Serbian bread. I had another don't-I-feel-cool moment with the waiter there, who was impressed that I knew what kajmak was. What can I say, I'm a woman of the world! (...of dairy products)
I then made it to the Tesla museum, which I'd been looking forward to. My inner nerd was treated well, though the museum wasn't all that big. I got to see a Tesla coil in all its lightning glory, and even saw the brass globe containing Tesla's ashes. It was a very moving museum, and it's incredible to think how much of his work is still influencing scientists today. Did you know Tesla originally envisioned the internet? In, like, 1890? A true badass, he was.

I finished my night on the main pedestrian street with a spritze and music from the busker playing classical violin on the corner.

After shushing the 6-am gabfest in the common room that leaked through the thin walls of my hostel room, I groggily made my way to a bike rental shop to bike to the mausoleum for the father of Yugoslavia, Josep Broz Tito. His mausoleum is in a beautiful park just outside the main city.
Do not, I repeat, DO NOT attempt to get there by bike. Belgrade was ranked within the top 15 European cities for bicycling, but I think the assessor may have drunk too much rakija when he made that decision. I got massively lost (typical), but beyond that, there are very few streets that are bike-friendly, or even bike-accessible. There was a lot of walking down stairs and crossing freeways involved (sorry mom!). I eventually made it, sweaty and a little scuffed up, but it was worth it. The mausoleum wasn't as grand as Ho Chi Minh's in Hanoi or, I imagine, Lenin's in Moscow, but it was peaceful and a nice break from the muggy city. I didn't realize how well-loved Tito was, and in talking to some folks from the former Yugoslavia, he really did successfully oversee a thriving country. A country, I discovered, that many people wish was still in existence. Coming from an American viewpoint, the idea that any country that had once been under communist rule would want to go BACK to that is unheard of, but now that I've been around there and heard people talking about the Golden Era, I can see their argument.

Other interesting facts I picked up in Serbia:
*Many people from the Balkans can understand Spanish, as they got a lot of telenovelas on TV as children.
*Ice cream vendors insist on unwrapping your ice cream for you, then presenting it stick-first.
*It costs 50 dinar to put a bag in the storage hold of a bus. Which I discovered during my overnight bus ride to Sarajevo. Which brings us to....

In my foolish pride, I thought I could get through the 9-hr ride with no problems, as a seasoned warrior of the long-distance bus ride club, having traversed the miles between New York City and Montreal many times before.
Wrong.
Wrong wrong wrong.

There are no bathrooms on this overnight bus, so stops are frequent and in way sketchier places than i ever had to see from NYC-MTL. And I used to have to get off the bus in the Albany Greyhound station. If you've ever been there, you know what I mean.
Also, if you've ever been there...my condolences.

It didn't help that they had assigned seating on these buses, so all my sneaky tricks of bus passengership went out the window, so to speak.

I eventually made it to Sarajevo, at about 6 in the morning, in very very cold darkness. After a confusing taxi ride, I made it to my homestay, where Meliha spoke no English but was very welcoming, and I promptly passed out for several hours.

Sarajevo is a much smaller place than Belgrade, which put everything of note within easy walking distance. It's surrounded by beautiful mountains all around (a common feature in BiH), and I loved wandering the streets of the old Turkish quarter, where artisans hammering away at copper and silver Turkish coffee pots, then finishing my day on a hilltop at the Yellow Fortress, toasting the sunset with a Sarajevsko beer. From that vantage point, I could see minarets dotting the landscape like awkwardly placed birthday candles. The city lives up to its name..."Saray" coming from the Turkish word for "palace", and "ova" meaning "field"...it looked like a field of palaces from up there.

Later that night, I met my friend Irhana for some Bosnian coffee and chat. We had a great time, and she met me for dinner again the next day to toast my last night in the city.
During the day, however, I visited the Tunnel Museum, which is just next to the airport. It was used during the wars to transport goods and people from the protected side of Sarajevo to the side that was under attack by Serbian forces. The struggle to build this tunnel and to protect the citizens was really incredible, and my tour was led by a girl about my age who lived through the whole ordeal. it was very moving.

When I was explaining my itinerary to my mother a while back, she was surprised that I had chosen to visit Sarajevo. Not too surprising, since the only things I associated with "Sarajevo" and "Bosnia" before I actually visited there was what little I remembered of the wars back in the 90s. I was too young to understand it, but I did know that these were places that were unsafe. My mom even asked me if there was anything left in Sarajevo to see. I laughed at the time (considering the wars were 25 years ago), but the scars are still very much present in the city. There are some beautiful monuments and memorials dedicated to those who died in the conflicts, but the city is itself is very beautiful and an incredible mix of cultures.

I hope someday that I will have the same reaction my mother did when my nephews tell me they're going backpacking through the Middle East, or doing a study abroad program in Baghdad. I hope that my fears for their safety will seem as antiquated by then, that they can experience the beautiful cultures and people that refused to be destroyed by war.

After a 9-hr train ride in which the conductor locked the bathroom door for me so I could charge my phone in safety, I made it to Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. It rained the whole time, which was a shame, because I was looking forward to enjoying the famous scenery of Bosnia from the window. It was still beautiful, even with the low-hanging clouds and the gray mist all around, but I bet it would be even more spectacular in the sunlight. I did get to see lights popping on as we near Zagreb, which is a phenomenon I've always found very beautiful.
After a weird cab ride from the train station, where a folk tune sounded a whole lot like the Spanish tune "Las Mananitas", I made it to a beautiful apartment in the upper part of the city. The hostess went through the sites to see one by one--she was very thorough--and, exhausted, I stored as much information as I could. After a glass of wine and some hookah at a nearby cafe, I was OUT.

 It was drizzling/raining most of the next day, but Zagreb is the kind of city that looks good in any weather, so I was undeterred. My apartment was very close to the main square, Trg Jelasnic, so I started there. I arrived exactly at noon, which is when they fire off a cannon from a nearby tower. Every tourist (inclduing myself, even though I knew it was coming) and every pigeon in that squared jumped five fee tin the air at the sound...while the locals didn't even twitch. It was brilliant.
I wanderd the city, getting fruit at Dolac market, promenading the "Green Horseshoe" around the museums, seeing the botanical gardens, and visiting the ethnographic museum ( mostly to escape the rain). I got lost on my way back to the main square, but it ended up being a blessing, as I walked along a hidden trail overhung with big trees and little park benches. After dinner, I visited the Museum of Broken Relationships.
This place is the only one of its kind, and it won an award in 2011 for being the most innovative museum in Europe. It's basically a repository/exposition space for the detritus of relationships past. Some of the pieces there were touching--like the stuffed caterpillar doll with seven missing legs, representing the number of times the couple traveled to see each other. Some were funny (the toaster, with the final note saying "how are you gonna toast anything NOW?"), and some were heartbreaking (a mother's suicide note to her son). It was a fascinating place, and it was the best suggestion my apartment hostess gave me.

Visitng this museum also shed some light for me...
I had been traveling alone this whole time, which is normally something I enjoy. But I think I was really worn down by that point, and started to realize that it's not enough to go and see places you've never seen before..the people you bring along and the people you meet are the most exciting part of any adventure, not any museum or park. I truly felt lonely that night, which is a feeling I haven't felt in quite a long time.

I left early the next morning for my final stop, Pécs, in the south of Hungary. A train delay and some communication error led to about 100 of us getting on the wrong train (all aboard for Rijeka!), so we were bussed to the border at Gyekenyes, after a harrowing delay at the Hungarian border (clearly, it was Mess With the Foreigners Day in Hungary).
I was the ONLY person on these buses who was not traveling in the direction of Budapest, so at the station in Gyekenes, I was left alone with four other local stragglers heading south. it was a weird feeling, and I struggled to find a way to contact my apartment host to let him know I was still coming, but I'd be a few hours late. The very kind station attendant gave me 200 forint (about $1) from his own pocket to help me place a call, and after some struggling with English, I got the message across.

I was in desperate need of some dinner and a beer, and I found both at the very beautiful old quarter of Pecs. I dined on venison stew, pickles, and good Hungarian beer. I was content.

The next day was sunny and perfect...for about two hours. So I spent most ofmy day indoors at the many museums dotted around the city. There was a traveling exhibition of DaVinci's inventions and methodology, so the nerd in me was satisifed.
Unfortunately, the main attraction--the Mosque Church--in the middle of the square was under renovation, so i couldn't peek inside. Luckily, Pecs is a very pretty little town, and I enjoyed it. I did discover, however, that Hungary may be one of the few countries I've ever visited where English will get you nowhere...if people spoke another language, it was usually German. And I know, let's see, MAYBE four words of German. This did not help. I relied on a lot of hand signals in Hungary.

Finally, finally, at long last, it was time to go home. I successfully navigated three trains, a public bus, and the international terminal of Budapest airport to fly to Amsterdam, where I flew home to California the following day.
...and promptly fell asleep.

I'm still shaking off the jet lag (I fell asleep at 6:30 last night), but I am glad to be back and getting my life together in preparation for my next contract.

It was an enlightening trip these last two weeks, and I'm very glad I got to see these places I may not have the opportunity to see again. However, I think I had a bit too much time for introspection on this trip, so I think from here on out, I will not be traveling alone for more than a week. I've proven to myself enough times that I am capable enough to handle myself in foreign places all by my lonesome, so my pride is doing just fine in that department. But as for actual enjoyment, I think a travel buddy would be a welcome addition next time.

...any takers?

:)