Author: Wandering Amerrickans

Chicken and Cumin

We had a goodnight’s sleep, an almost too cold of one as the only thing on the bed was a sheet. But I’ll take that over sweating any day!

We had decided last night that we wanted to take a walk through the old village before breakfast. Our hostess had said it was fine so we headed out about 8:00 AM. A few minutes in to the walk, we came across a woman maybe 70 years old who stopped when we greeted her. She returned the greeting but of course, I could not understand and before I could even try to apologize somehow, Jenny responded and the two of them had a short exchange in Arabic. I literally had chills and the biggest grin on my face. It was one of the purest sweetest moments I have experienced in any of our trips! I’m literally still grinning thinking about it!!

We headed out, making it unscathed through another checkpoint and started west. We were literally only 20 minutes outside of Tata before the scenery began eliciting audible, “Wows.” The mountains, more visible today though not perfectly clear, were stunning. The geological features really stood out with all the striations and folding that clearly took place.

Following the GPS, we were directed to turn left down a much smaller roadway. I immediately had some concerns about the road we were on and pulled over to double check the paper map I had purchased as the backup to a technological failure. It seemed correct so we soldiered on. A few miles later we encountered an area where parts of the road were completely washed out and then sections so undercut by erosion that, while marked by small rocks not to drive over it, I was feeling quite surprised this was the best way between Point A and d point B. I voiced my concerns but Billy felt certain we were were on the right track, and besides we had full cell coverage.

I was feeling very uneasy about it until we rounded a bend and there were two cars pulled to the side with three Westerners standing around. I stopped to ask if all was OK. They responded yes and then I asked them if this was the road to Tafraoute. They assured me it was and that they were also headed there. I let them know how happy I was to hear that and that I was glad to know they were now behind us so they could save us if anything happened! From there on out I relaxed quite a bit and honestly, if I had not have passed them, the drive would have been totally different because we did not pass a single anything for the next hour or so.

The drive though was spectacular – with a capital S. The lack of guardrails in some spots kept me on my toes all the while fighting myself to keep my eyes on the road and not the majestic landscape surrounding us. We hit an elevation of about 6500’ and were surprised at just how far off in the distance we could see.

The only stop I had really wanted to make was at a place called Le Maison Traditionale, a small museum, if you will, that shows what life in a traditional village home was like.

We parked the car at the end of the road, right in front of the cemetery and next to the mosque. Muslim cemeteries are quite unique in that they typically have no headstone but will leave a broken piece of pottery in its place.

The owner of the museum, Mustafah, spoke very good English and welcomed us in. The home had been in his family for generations, but had been running as a museum now for forty years. We entered the 400 year old building on the ground level where the livestock was kept – usually a donkey, a cow, and some goats. There was also the working area where the grinding stones were found to create flour from wheat or barley and oil from argan nuts.

The second floor housed a kitchen in the middle with a chute in the corner that dumped straight into the animal pen below to feed the livestock the vegetable shavings. The kitchen was elevated up one two-foot high step to keep the toddlers safe from entering.

The halls surrounding the central kitchen were for sleeping. There was a separate room for children to sleep- girls to one side, boys to the other and grandmother in the middle. Mustafah mentioned that previous generations had ten plus children but today it is more like four, when I said, “or one,” he was surprised Jenny was an only child. He started to giggle a bit and inquired , “You know what we call the girl when she is the only daughter of a foreign family that has money? Chicken and Cumin!” We all had a good laugh – instead of calling Jenny Cheechie, I could start calling her C&C!!!

The third floor was reserved for guests who come to visit. Musafah invited us in, welcomed us to sit and prepared us some tea. He also dressed Jenny in a stunning blue kaftan and played a few of the traditional instruments he had (he also played an American banjo and did a mean rendition of “Oh! Susanna”).

We reached our hotel for the next two nights – a lovely newly built inn by a French couple. We were surprised by the pool, thrilled we could get a cold beer and pleased with the accommodations (though the A/C is not working).

We had a delicious tagine for dinner, this time beef with peas, haricot vert, zucchini and fresh artichoke hearts. Billy absolutely loved it, it was Jenny’s least favorite, and I placed it somewhere in the middle.

It is nice to know we have a second night here. It will fulfill its intended purpose to give us a small break from the constant moving and allow us an unhurried opportunity to see the stunning landscape surrounding us!

Today was Eid al-Fitr, the last day of Ramadan and the breaking of the fast. At dinner, Billy said to the waitress, “Your fast is over now, you got to eat and be happy.” She quickly responded with a big smile on her face, “I was happy before too…”

Eid is set to the sighting of the new moon and tonight was a picture perfect example (taken by Jenny out of her bedroom window).

Two More For The List

Our night was a bit rough though Billy says his watch said he had one of his best sleep scores ever… go figure. I can assure you that neither my night nor Jenny’s was equivalent.

The perfectly calm weather had changed drastically overnight and by 7:00 AM, the winds were whipping. We couldn’t walk the thirty feet to the communal tent without our eyes getting sandblasted – it makes perfect sense to me now why camels have long eyelashes and bushy eyebrows.

Today was going to be a basic washout so since we had a fairly long drive ahead of us, we cut our losses and decided to leave after breakfast.

As we waited for the other parties, we struck up a conversation with Mohammed. He asked me if I wouldn’t mind leaving Jenny behind; I told him not a chance. He said he would turn her into a strong woman; I told him she already is. He said she must take after her mother then; I told him he was a smart man…We chuckled and continued on with a more realistic conversation.

I asked him to clarify if this was the Sahara; he did so quickly and with the utmost certainty. He scoffed at anybody saying otherwise, pointing out that they were most likely outsiders, not descendants of a people who have lived here for eons.

He was intrigued when I spoke of wisdom and wanted to understand what it meant. After giving him my best description, he repeated the word over and over- as though trying to commit it to memory. I wish we had had more time to speak to him; we never saw him last night and I would have loved to learn more about the traditions of the Berbers from him.

Our ride out was a wild one with the blowing sand literally creating “white out” conditions. The sand was shifting so fast that the tracks were getting covered, to the point Mohammed actually got stuck. We swung back around to see if we could help, but by the time we got there, he was free!

Once back in the village of M’hamid, Mohammed led us to an ATM where we finally met with success and were able to get some Moroccan dirham! We bid him, “mae-salama,” and headed north.

We weren’t five minutes on the road before we hit a police checkpoint. I stuck to my M.O. and, for a second as he approached the car, I thought he was going to harass me but instead, he waved us through. Yesterday, we hit another four or five checkpoints and were waved through all of them – at one of them I was certain I was going to get “fined” because we all lost track of our vigilance when we were looking off to the side at our first flock of camels, and I came into a checkpoint a bit faster than the posted speed. The Gendarmarie got up from his seated position carrying some sort of radar gun, walked over to the car with it in hand, then waved me through. The French couple that helped us out earlier said they had gotten taken for 15 Euros because they were told they hadn’t stopped at the sign.

As I said previously, there are so many additional hazards to look out for while driving here and so we can now add camels to the list.

We backtracked north an hour and a half of the same road we had taken yesterday before we turned west to make the 140 or so mile drive to our next destination, Tata. It became evident, rather quickly, that this road crossed desolate lands. We passed more camels than cars or buildings in the two and a half hour drive. It probably comes in somewhere in the top five of most isolated places we have covered.

And in all honestly, there were a few moments there that I thought things could easily go bad for us out here, especially when we encountered literal sand dunes that had formed on the road. Add another Moroccan driving hazard to the list because hitting one of those going 65 miles an hour might not have been so fun!

Unfortunately for us, the scenery was affected by all of the sand particles suspended in the air. The mountains on either side were almost completely obscured while the sun’s rays were blocked, leaving the atmosphere looking like a cross between a thick fog bank and the smoke generated from a large forest fire.

Once we made it through to the first town, and successfully past another checkpoint (though it was a close one because we were all looking up at the boulder covered mountain), Billy noticed a valley off to the right. I was so glad he noticed it because I had been advised to look for it. It was so cool – a deep oasis with plenty of water and a beautiful mosque overlooking it.

By 4:30 we pulled into Tata, tanked up the car and made our way through the deserted streets, minus two more checkpoints which we were again waved through (one even giving us a thumbs up instead). We made the final turn towards tonight’s riad down a trash-strewn dirt road heading straight into the old village. I was a bit nervous, trying to remember the reviews from this place. Tata was not really a destination for us, it was just a stop to break up an otherwise ghastly long drive and the overnight accommodation selection had been slim pickings.

We pulled into the parking lot where we saw two motorcycles (the type that are very common to the people who tour) and felt some relief in misery loves company. But, as it turns out, there was no misery. In fact, except for our bathroom being located outside of our bedroom, the riad was charming in the most authentic unpretentious way.

The owner was an absolutely adorable woman who clearly is trying hard beyond imagination to create something nice and comfortable for her guests. She was warm and welcoming and humble and gracious all at once.

She offered us some welcome tea and asked if we’d like to have it up on the terrace. We obliged her and were so glad we did as the breeze was nice and it was a very cool perspective looking down on the palmeral. I can only imagine what the views would be like if we could see them!

Our hostess prepared a wonderful meal – a traditional soup followed by a lemon and green olive chicken tagine (bumping last night’s tagine down to fourth place – though I still appreciated all the vegetables in that one), followed by a fruit cup (the camp’s was better).

We were all very happy to retire to an air conditioned room for the night!

Sahara Bound

I always love waking up to the braying of donkeys…and especially hearing Jenny giggling to it; it sets the mood for the day to come…

We had a nice homemade breakfast sitting on the terrace but by 9:30, the sun was warming things up quickly and we realized we were in for a change.

The cute girls from yesterday had come to work today in their best outfits hoping Jenny would take another picture of them. She happily did, taking enough for each one of them to receive one. The youngest looking of the girls, who was maybe 17 or so, then shyly asked if she could have a picture taken with her and Jenny – so sweet.

We continued south today, heading down towards the Sahara Desert and the Algerian border. We traveled through the Draa Valley, a long oasis that has unfortunately fallen victim to a drought. So many of the palm trees were dead or clearly dying. There were even a few stands that had been cremated by fire.

Each town we passed through was more authentic and traditional than the previous one. I love how colorful the Moroccan women dress, their melhfas are brightly hued in either solids or patterns and if black, adorned with lots of colorful elements. As we traveled further south, there was little doubt this area sees far fewer tourists.

One thing we noticed was how many children there are. Billy remarked that Morocco’s demographics appear to be in good shape. At one point, I pulled over to take a picture of an old kasbah and was quickly surrounded by children speaking to me in French. I was sad I couldn’t understand though I made out the fact they were hungry.

The landscape eventually turned desolate, as did the roads. There were quite a few stretches of time we did not see anyone else or any sign of civilization. When we finally made it to our prearranged meeting point with our Berber guide and host, it was 2:00. We had a difficult time figuring out exactly where to meet up with him but with the help of some locals and a French couple, we finally hooked up with Mohammed.

We dropped our car off and loaded things into the one of two Land Cruisers that had a huge Dakar sticker on it and set off into the desert with Mark (I imagine not his real name), who spoke not a word of English or French. Jenny was worth her weight in gold communicating with her limited Arabic skills.

Our drive took us out into the desert on an old caravan route that crisscrossed terrain covered in baseball, and even football size rocks. The drive in was long, stopping only to allow the other car to catch up to us and to check out a small oasis where you could see the water bubbling up from underneath the sand.

It was 5:30 by the time we reached the camp and both Jenny and I had started getting headaches from all the jostling. Thank goodness they let Jenny ride shotgun because I can assure you she would never have made it without getting ill.

The dunes of Erg Chigaga were gob smacking. They were twice the size of the dunes in Wahiba Sands, Oman. After climbing to the top of one and spending time taking it all in, Billy said he had never seen anything like it (since he missed the trip to Oman) and wondered if he would ever see anything like it again.

We sat on top of the dune until long after sunset, watching the stars slowly start to pop out. It was 8:30 before we were called for dinner – a hearty lentil soup followed by a chicken and mixed vegetable tagine, set outside on a lovely candlelit table.

It was quite good but it ranked third so far out of the three dinners we have had. The dessert, a mixed bowl of chopped fresh fruit was the highlight.

After dinner, we climbed back up to the top of the dune, cresting over the backside to block any light from the camp and watched the stars for at least another hour. Jenny laid there and waited until she saw a shooting star. She remarked that she could look at the stars for hours and how there is nothing that puts into perspective just how minute we actually are. Space is such a remarkable place, the concept of it is often difficult to wrap your head around.

By 10:15 we decided to turn in. Our accommodations while comfortable in most aspects were unbearably hot.

All of us like to sleep in a cold room. We keep our bedroom at 60 degrees, sometimes even down to 58 in the winter so a hot bedroom never sits well with us. Trying to find a position to sleep where you could minimize your own skin from touching was key, otherwise you would immediately begin sweating!

All That You Read Is Not Always To Be

We had a fantastic night’s sleep but morning came too early… I opened my eyes to see Jenny already showered and getting under way to start the day – a bit of an atypical situation.

We enjoyed a delicious breakfast up on the roof terrace where once again, Ridouan was there with a big smile and warm service and he extended a very sincere invitation again (he had done so last night) to us to come and spend time celebrating Eid with him and his family beginning Tuesday since we were heading down towards his village. Honestly, if we could make it work, we would all do it in a heartbeat!

I had arranged to have a guide for the few hours we would have in Marrakesh this morning so we could get the most of our limited time and get to at least see some of the medina. I was hesitant in my planning to spend much time here as a hot crowded city did not appeal, nor did all the reported touts pushing you to buy rugs or handicrafts, and as you probably know, we prefer smaller towns and villages to large urban areas. 

Our guide Yaseen was waiting for us right on time and as we made our way out, we didn’t get past the front door before he stopped to describe it. Reminiscence from the guide Jenny and I briefly had in Nizwa, Oman set in and I thought we were going to have a tough two hours trying to move him along. But, as the morning unfolded, Yaseen quickly adapted to our style and we ended up having some very nice chats and covered a considerable amount of ground. He even shared how much he liked Americans and how his best friend is an American woman!

We certainly missed all the “highlights” people say you should see, but we did the things we enjoy like taking pictures; saw some places we wanted, including the Ben Youssef mosque (the oldest mosque in Marrakesh) though we were not allowed in; walked through Jemaa el-Fnaa (the most famous square in all of Morocco and a UNESCO site) where, while it was fairly quiet, we still saw the famous Moroccan snake charmers as well as the citizens of Marrakesh going about their daily lives.

We also took a tuk-tuk ride to go outside the city walls and see some of the newer areas of Marrakesh-basically having a quick comparison of 11th century Marrakesh to 20th century Marrakesh.

Part of the decision in not staying longer in Marrakesh was in all that I had read about being harassed by the trinket sellers, the henna artists, the “guides” offering to help you find your way, only to then demand money, etc. I had read that the men here are more apt to leer at us (Jenny especially). And I had read that it was packed with tourists, and there was not much authenticity left. We found little of that to be true. It might have helped we are here during Ramadan, and we were walking around the morning after one of the biggest evening celebrations when Muslims stay up until late in the night celebrating with family, but our morning was nothing but pleasant, including the weather as two days previous was close to 100 degrees!

By 11:30, we returned to the Riad, grabbed our bags and met the lady who was renting us a car. I got a bit nervous when she said the car was just a short walk as that meant in the Medina (a rather chaotic place) and as it turned out it was, but she offered for me to follow her out and get us going in the right direction – a huge help!

We immediately had to stop to tank the car up, and of course a road trip is not a road trip with Jenny unless we stop for sustenance and snacks, and finally we were on our way for the intended five hour drive south. Billy acted as my trusty navigator and he did not let me down.

The scenery changed quickly after leaving Marrakesh as we started towards the Atlas Mountains. The landscape became greener with lots of wildflowers while the tops of the mountains still had snow on them – such a strange thing to think snow in northern Africa in April. If we had had any regrets in not staying longer in Marrakesh, they quickly dissipated as we marveled at the scenery.

It wasn’t long either before we quickly realized that the Moroccans are crazy drivers – Jenny and I decided they were either tailgaters like the Omanis, or just plain suicidal like the Bosnians. I honestly think at one point the two lane highway had five motorized vehicles side by side at some point of passing. If you ask me, the Moroccans think the center line is meant to be straddled, not kept on the left. We were completely awe-struck when at one point we were headed downhill and a taxi came flying by me, and took the next bend in the right lane of the two-lane uphill side. We actually came upon a very bad one-car accident with a car that had flown past us. Needless to say every blind corner has me hugging…and I mean hugging, the far right shoulder. Not to mention having to watch out for the mopeds, bicycles, pedestrians, trucks, goats, dogs, and boulders that are frequently found in and along the sides of the road. The amount of rockslides we drove past is insane!

Our drive up and over the Tizi n”Tichka pass, where we topped out at about 6,500’, was marvelous – truly spectacular. It was unfortunate there was a heavy haze hanging in the air, some sort of Saharan dust we think, that obscured some of the views but even so, it was simply gorgeous.

We encountered the many forewarned police checkpoints – six in total – but at each one I made the complete stop like I had read was requisite and at each one, we were waved through. We of course made some stops where reasonably safe to take pictures, and at ATMs, as we have yet been able to get any money…(maybe the police knew)!

We arrived in Agdz at 6:00, making our way through the backstreets, past smiling waving children, down a dirt road that ran through an oasis of palm trees to find our accommodation for the evening. We received another very warm welcome from the staff and another round of hot mint tea, but this time sweetened.

We chatted with the host for a while who took an interest in Jenny’s instant camera. It wasn’t long before he asked if she could take a photo of he and the ladies who worked in the kitchen and dining areas. They were all so tickled by it; they hung it straight up on the refrigerator (literally putting tears in Jenny’s eyes).

Since there was but little daylight left, we took a quick stroll outside the garden gates where we encountered so many friendly locals greeting us in Arabic, French and English. Two young boys took an interest to us and immediately followed us into the old village. Jenny asked them their names in Arabic and then offered them a picture. The older one quickly rejected it but the younger one gladly posed for it. Of course, when the older one saw the photo of the younger one, he then stood for his chance to also get one, which Jenny gladly obliged. They were so cute in making sure they could keep them for themselves.

We returned to the inn where we had a delicious dinner of roast chicken piled with noodles in a semi sweet cinnamon and golden raisin sauce – not something any of us would typically order so it made it all the more enjoyable. It was a very pleasant evening sitting out on the terrace, overlooking the gardens, with a warm breeze blowing, sipping on a glass of Portuguese red wine we had picked up at the duty free in Lisbon!

All is good so far in Morocco…

Once again, I had planned for another early morning to get to Dubrovnik before all the crowds. I wanted to walk the narrow city walls without any issue of us wanting to stop for pictures or having to jostle position with lines of people, and before the heat creamed us. And once again, the girls decided to join me and were up on time.

Our hotel was about a 15 minute drive outside Dubrovnik old town, a location I had flip flopped back and forth on staying at but ultimately I thought having a resort with the pool and the sea, at the end of our trip, would more than make up for the inconvenience of having to take an Uber and besides, it was a free stay on points!

We got to the old town about thirty minutes before the gates opened so we walked around a bit enjoying the fairly empty streets. It was hard to believe that only thirty years ago, the city was under siege.

Anyone who is a Game of Thrones fan would recognize many locations in Old Town, especially the fort and fortress, as it is used as a filming location through the entire show. Once the gates opened, we were the second ones to climb the ridiculously steep steps up to the top of the old city walls (82 feet high at the highest and 6-9 feet thick) and were immediately met with a striking view.

Walking along the top was fantastic with the view over the orange tiled roofs of the buildings in old town on the left and then the views out to the sapphire Adriatic Sea and Lokrum Island to the right. There are so many sites that would have gone unnoticed if we had just stayed down on the passages below.

We walked the entire 1 1/4 mile length of the fortification before descending back down to find a nice spot to have a cold drink in the shade someplace.

We passed by a church so I went in to light a candle for my dad as I head not done so in Croatia yet.

I had made a reservation months prior to have lunch at the Panorama restaurant located on the very top of 1,350 foot Mount Srd. We made our way up more and more steps until we arrived at the cable car station where we would get a ride to the top! (You can see the restaurant on top of the mountain in the previous picture)

Once on top, the view was everything one would expect it to be – beyond stunning looking way down on the old town enclosed by the soaring fortification. We thanked our lucky stars for yet another day of azure skies and a nice breeze and another scrumptious meal, especially the octopus carpaccio.

We discussed going back to old town to explore some more, but we felt the heat and the early morning wake up so instead decided to take advantage of the pool waiting for us back at the hotel.

The drive down the mountain ended up being beyond nerve wracking. Everyone knows I have a thing with heights, unless I am attached to something like a climbing rope or encapsulated in some sort of a container, like a plane or a gondola or even a hot air balloon basket. What does not quell my fears is being encapsulated in a vehicle; in fact, it does the complete opposite. It is even worse than if I was standing on the edge of a precipice with no barrier at all AND it’s even doubly worse if I am not the person driving the vehicle… and so it is, that our poor Uber driver found out the hard way.

Not even five seconds after he picked us up we came upon the first S curve for which there is no guardrail, no jersey barrier, no evenly spaced boulders, no nothing. There wasn’t even a bush to hide the fact that maybe three feet from where the tarmac ended the ground also ended. And to top it off, this eight-foot wide “road” was for two-way traffic – who the heck thought that was a good idea?

In that first five seconds we encountered a car coming up. We had luckily not quite gotten to the S curve so we managed to back up and let him pass, but not before the “Oh my Gods” started. Continuing on, the road cut inland more and dear Noella kept assuring me it was all good… that was until we ended up back on the side of the cliff. At this point we ran into a traffic jam with four vehicles, two of which were passenger vans, were coming up while us and two other vehicles were coming down. When our Uber driver started maneuvering the car out of the way, that’s when I undid my seat belt. When he pulled forward toward the edge with no guardrail, that’s when I started to panic, even Jenny who was up front was getting a bit nervous.

Funny thing was once back at the hotel, I couldn’t find the handle to get out of the sliding car door and laughed that, “I guess I wouldn’t have been able to jump anyhow!”

I retired to the pool to get caught up on my blog, while the girls had a nap before joining me an hour or so later. The only problem with the location of the hotel was there weren’t any great restaurants around to eat at and our dinner at the hotel the first night was only ok and certainly not worth the price, so we decided to go back to the old town.

Noella found us a cute restaurant with great reviews and it did not disappoint. We shared some apps and a large platter with a variety of fresh seafood. And since we had been light on dinner, we treated ourselves to gelato at the the highest ranked store in Dubrovnik!

We walked around for a bit longer, turning left and right down the labyrinth of passageways, not having a destination but just wanting to see what was around the next bend.

At one point, we stumbled upon an unmarked door leading all the way through the walls out to the other side where the sea meets the rocks the walls were built on, and there was one of the coolest bars I have ever seen!

The Republic of What?

The girls decided to join me in my 7:30 AM ventures out to Mostar before all the tour busses arrived from Dubrovnik. Having seen how charming the town was last night, we wanted the opportunity to take pictures and enjoy it while it was still quiet.

We stopped for breakfast at a nice cafe overlooking the Neretva River where we enjoyed some Bosnian coffee, baklava, crepes and omelets all while being entertained by the ducks below.

We had read that you could visit one of the mosques and unlike every other mosque we have been in, you only needed to cover your shoulders and arms, not your hair (though Jenny did), and we were allowed to walk onto the prayer carpets if we took our shoes off (we chose not to). The mosque was small and fairly simple – far different from the opulent one Jenny and I recently visited in Muscat.

The ticket allowed for us to climb up to the top of the minaret – all 80 steps of the claustrophobia-inducing tower but never afraid of a bit of a physical challenge, I was game. What I wasn’t game for was the exposure on the top. As soon as I stepped out of the doorway I uttered, “Oh Jesus.” The Aussies standing there got a slight laugh out of it while my daughter admonished me, “I can’t believe you said that while standing in a mosque.” Well…first of all I was not in the mosque, I was half in half out of the minaret and it’s not like I could control my utter fear at that moment; sometimes things just slip out. I was eight stories up on a two-foot wide perch with nothing but a hip-high wall standing between me and certain death. She’s lucky that was all I said…

Noella had said how much she would have loved to have been able to swim in the waterfalls at Plitvice so I decided we should make a stop at another set of waterfalls, Kravica, that we would be passing, as they’re said to be similar to Plitvice and you could swim there.

After the success of our drive to Mostar, following the less-traveled route, Jenny decided we should continue with the rural sightseeing we had already been enjoying. She wanted to see as much of the country as possible, so she chose a journey that would have us traversing some of the mountains. There is one thing that is clear about Bosnian roads – they are sinuous, holy cow are they sinuous. The mileage was only going to be 85 miles but the time the GPS was saying for covering that was 2:45, so my concern was ending up on a road we weren’t equipped to be on or suddenly turned to dirt, but she assured me it was all good…

About half way into the drive I wizz past a giant sign flying a flag that is not BIH’s (it looks more like Russia’s) that says “Welcome to Republic of (something or another starting with an S).” I turn to Jenny and ask, “The Republic of What? What the hell is that?” She had no idea and after furiously Googling for what it could possibly be, Jenny triumphantly declares, “Oh! It is the Republic of Srpska.” “Great, what is that?” I responded with an air of concern. She then begins reading, “It is a parliamentary-style government formed in 1992 at the outset of the Bosnian War with the stated intent to safeguard the interests of the Serbs of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and its formation is considered to be one of the causes of the Bosnian war.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said in utter disbelief.

So, I slowed the car to contemplate our options…of which we quickly determined there weren’t many. We noticed plenty of cars coming towards us, so we decided we would just roll with it. The scenery again was incredible with soaring mountains as far as the eye could see. Noella had never seen mountains like this or roads like we had been driving so it was fun to experience it with her.

At one point, I saw a sign for a monastery that was up ahead and as we rounded a bend I could see it rising above a grove of olive trees and a small vineyard. I made a quick turn in and Noella was pleased when she saw they had a bathroom. Jenny and I started walking toward the monastery to see what it was all about when suddenly we hear Noella hollering for both of us to go to her right away. Jenny and I both start cracking up because we know it has got to be something good. When we get over there, Noella starts explaining that she thought she had walked into a shower stall, we both start laughing so hard we thought we would die. It turned out Noella was getting to experience her first squat potty! Oh how we laughed…

Jenny and I decided that we wanted to go and check out the monastery as it was open to the public to visit (as long as they were dressed appropriately – no skin above the knee and no bare shoulders showing). Jenny and I both had on shorts, as well as Jenny’s top did not match the signage displayed for appropriate tops, so we donned the coverups they provided for just such an occasion.

The main church was incredibly ornate. Jenny and I both love the elaborate Orthodox churches with all the color, images and various objects of symbolism, including the bones and skeletal hand that were on display here in glass boxes.

I lit another candle for my dad in a side building (and paid for it at the gift shop once I was back at the car, otherwise it would have been some bad juju).

It wasn’t long before we were leaving the Republic and were literally a few miles to the border. The roads continued to be sinuous but it was now cut into a side of the mountain. I have decided that Bosnian drivers are crazy. At one point, after so many near misses, I finally broke out screaming, “What the f@ck is the matter with you people? Do I have a sticker on my car that says ‘Hit Me’.” Honestly, every other car was way over the line as they flew past me or so close to my arse trying to pass me it’s a miracle they didn’t end up in our trunk. At one point I made some super quick maneuver to a small pull out on the side of the road to let a car pass me who then had an eighteen wheeler pass him at the same time.

We had had good news during our drive so our plan for the evening was to celebrate Jenny having passed her master’s thesis with an exceptional grade! We are so happy for her and so unbelievably proud of her. Congrats to my girl!

Wow and Then Wow Again

Our morning dawned early but I give the girls credit for rallying to get up and out the door a bit before 7:00. I had done the research about the best way to see Plitvice Lakes National Park and knew we wanted to enter on the first hour of timed entry. I also figured on the hiking route we should do to optimize the hours we would have before the tour busses started showing up around 10:00 and the boardwalks got clogged up, this meant an arrival by no later than 8:00 AM.

By the time we arrived, we were thrilled to see the heavy clouds from yesterday were gone and the light cloud cover today was rapidly clearing. We were also thrilled that the temperature was just right for our 5 mike hike. 

It was a short drive to entrance 1 and as we entered into the parking lot, past an empty bus lot and into the car park that only had a few dozen cars at most in it – I was happy with my decision.

Within minutes of entering the park, we were greeted with the first panoramic view leading to audible gasps. We could see the boardwalks below and were happy to see they were mostly devoid of people. We all thought it just magnificent and could not wait to start our exploration.

We descended down to the lakes below and began our hike to the base of the largest waterfall in the park. The scenery was spectacular and we loved how the boardwalks seemed to float on the turquoise water.

We traversed the entire lower lake region remarking how peaceful it was with the birds singing and the solitude of it all. 

We had been told the route we were taking was a 4-5 hour trek but we were surprised by the time we had reached the point where we needed the boat to cross the largest lake in the park.

The upper falls were also truly magnificent but in their own different sort of way – not as grand but rather mystical – Jenny said she felt like she was looking for Tinkerbell.

By the time we had reached the entrance, we were floored at all the people, lined up on the boardwalks below – the place had basically been ours three hours prior.

I had read about a spot, outside of the walking trails, where you could get an incredible birds eye view of the main waterfalls, so we set the GPS for the location where we thought it might be. As it turned out, I was spot on and the easy hike down to an overlook was spectacular – the same view that is used in many publications. Jenny and I agreed that in all our travels, Plitvice certainly ranked in the top with most beautiful natural scenery.

Back to the car, traveling over hill and dale for an hour or so, we reached the border control for Bosnia & Herzgevonia – another stamp in the passport as we were now leaving the EU. We had chosen to take the route that would allow us to see more of the country instead of the more direct, shorter route. The drive time was clocked at five hours going this way and we all had a good laugh about why it was going to take so long as we made our way through small side streets.

It was not long after crossing the border that we came upon our first mosque – Jenny was thrilled- Bosnia and Herzegovina is 51% Muslim; Islam having been introduced in the 15th and 16th centuries following the Ottoman conquest.

At one point we rounded a bend and saw some guys fly fishing. Jenny and I both said we needed to pull over and take a picture for Billy. As she and I walked out to the shore and I was snapping a phot, this guy that had been standing nearby said, “It is forbidden to take pictures.” Jenny quickly nudged me to put down my phone and then the guy started laughing and said, “I am just kidding.” Phew….

As we continued on, we were gobsmacked by the beauty of the country – it was truly stunning -who knew?!?

We drove for hours through a verdant valley, surrounded on both sides by immense mountains. It was wild as we passed hundreds of abandoned houses with only a few here or there that showed signs of life. All relics left from the war that ended here less than 30 years ago. We have never traveled to a place where war had been raged so recently and the evidence of it still so clear.

By the time we reached our destination for the evening, Mostar, it was a bit after 6:00. After quickly changing we headed out to find the restaurant Jenny had read about, one that specialized in Middle Eastern foods. Our dinner was delicious and we had the added bonus of listening to the call to prayer as we dined.

Mostar is a medieval town, charming in so many aspects, but like all the other charming places, it has been discovered. Its bridge is famous, having been built in the 15th century and then destroyed during the war that tore the former Yugoslavia apart. It has been rebuilt under the guidance of UNESCO as a symbol to show that “shared heritage can be a basis for social cohesion, inclusion and citizenship.”

Our introduction to Bosnia was fantastic. we were all so pleasantly surprised by its incredible beauty. Jenny and I put it up there with the top five most beautiful countries we have been in – wow, wow, wow

Primo Primosten

I woke up early this morning to try and get out ahead of the crowds in order to experience the palace without the throngs of people that blanketed it yesterday, and wow, what a difference! I love wandering areas in the wee hours of the morning before the locals arise and the tourists descend, it seems to impart a more authentic feel to the place

I made it back to the apartment around 8:15, woke the girls up and we walked the twenty minutes or so to pick up our rental car, a small but comfortable manual Peugeot – a definite step up from our car on Vis that had crank windows (even though the two cranks in the front were missing); the girls were just happy there was Bluetooth.

We headed out from Split with the decision to drive through Trogir, a UNESCO heritage site as well, and see if we wanted to stop. Pulling into town, the answer was a definitive “No!” after encountering masses and masses of people.

The next stop was Primosten, and when we saw it from a ways out we thought it looked like an ideal stop.

We pulled in there it was perfect – the town was quiet, with mostly locals lounging on the beach.

After a challenging start to figuring out how pay for the parking, we walked up to the church on the top of the hill. The church was open and I was finally able to light my first candle for my dad.

The small church really held a beautiful spot and the cemetery surrounding it had spectacular views. The breeze on top of the hill was delightful and combined with the shade, made for a relaxing respite from the sun. We all just found a spot to chill out a bit before making our way back down in search of lunch.

We selected a spot right on the water. We each ordered a greek salad and split a basket of freshly baked bread which was divine.

From Primosten, we headed inland towards our destination for the night, a hotel on the outskirts of Plitvice Lakes National Park. My trusty navigator, who has rarely failed me, ended up missing the exit and before we knew it, we were looking at an additional 30 minutes as we had to go 15 minutes up the highway to exit and turn around to get back to the exit. However, when evaluating out options we opted for a route that would really take us about the same amount of time but would take us through more of the country.

Our decision paid off in spades, as we absolutely loved the drive through the countryside, getting a real feel for the country. We were clearly in an area that saw few tourists as we got some serious stares from the locals as we waved.

After a quick stop at the market to load up on snacks and lunch for our hike tomorrow, a nice dinner, followed by showers, we all called it a night.

Relaxing For A Day

I had the alarm set for 5:15 this morning but when it went off I hit the stop button and decided I was too tired to finish my blog and I would just lay there until the girl’s alarm was set to go off at 6:00 AM, at least so I thought. As I lay there, I heard the church bell ring once for the half hour at 5:30 but the next thing I knew I was hearing the bell ring just one time again. Trying to figure out why it rang only once for what I thought should be 5:45 (and remembering I had heard it ring three times previously for quarter of), I grabbed my phone only to see that it was 6:30. “Oh sh*t,” I hollered….our ferry was leaving at 7:00 and the dock was a solid 12 minute walk.

So…I am sure you can imagine what the next ten minutes were like… thank goodness we all had packed most of our things the night before because the mad dash stuffing our backpacks and trying to get out the door (literally and figuratively) was a bit of a scene!

Thankfully we made it so we arrived in Split around 8:30 and headed straight to breakfast, enjoying a lovely meal in a beautiful restaurant which had been highly recommended (even if we felt a bit out of place looking like backpackers), and it did not disappoint.

We were happy to receive an email from our apartment that it would be ready to check in at 10:30 instead of the 3:00 they had originally told me. Today was another very hot day and we were happy to relax in the AC for  a bit before venturing out. The apartment, as I had researched, was in a perfect location, right on the edge of the ancient Diocletian’s Palace. The “palace” (resembling more a fortress) was built for the aforementioned Roman emperor at the turn of the 4th century as his retirement residence and was added to the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1979.

Making our way out, the streets were packed with tourists and really made it difficult to enjoy much. We did manage to get off the beaten path a bit and make our way into the absolute maze of passages that make up the area but all the people were a bit overwhelming.

We opted to stop for a cold drink and a lite bite for the girls before we decided that crowds and heat weren’t worth the frustrations so we returned to the apartment where both girls fell fast asleep for a few hours.

By the time they woke, it was a few minutes before our dinner reservation, but they insisted on making it, so I went ahead and checked us in before they were quick to follow.

Our meal at Portofino was excellent! The girls split a goat cheese salad and I began with a monkfish carpaccio that was to die for. This was followed by a shrimp and crab risotto for me, and a shared bowl of fettuccini with lobster and truffle for the ladies. We were too stuffed for desert but I know we would have enjoyed it as well.

Following dinner, Noella returned to the apartment to go to bed early while Jenny and I walked along the Riva, checking out the mega – mega yachts and back to the apartment winding our way though the streets just talking. 

Today was a less busy day than the others, but we have plenty of hectic days ahead of us, so a more relaxed day was just fine by us.