Montenegro, Albania, Italy into Turkey

Dec. 18 - 26

Montenegro. Doesn't that sound exotic? It does to me. Today we are going to explore the Bay of Kotor. This is a large T-shaped bay behind another bay. The road along the water is mostly one lane with no side pull-offs. Tricky, but the locals are used to it and somehow we all get where we are going. We are in a pocket of salt water surrounded by big powerful stone mountains. It is all stark and simple...water, mountains, sky. A sign points out to the water. Two islands, one, Sveti Dorde (St. George) is a Benedictine Monastery nestled on a hill in Cypress trees, the other, Gospe Od Skrpjela,(Our Lady of the Rock) was artificially created in the 15^th century, and is flat like it is on a barge. Is rare to see two opposite shapes next to each other and it does grab your attention and imagination. Quite mysterious. We travel the thin road further and it seems we are about to get to the town of Kotor when we come across road construction. We proceed slowly through it and one of the workers shakes his finger at us. No, no. You must go all the way around to get to Kotor. So we turn around and drive for an hour on a good wide road through a tunnel and arrive in Kotor, a much bigger town than we expected. We do not stay here but take note of the old wall ruins marching up the mountain...not easily visible at first as they are built of the same craggy grey rock. In the summer there is an active tourist community behind these walls, all based on marble lanes. Churches, restaurants, shops and bars.

We travel the loop around the bay through two important villages....Perast, a formerly very rich and powerful town, has much from its past to see... Risan, the oldest, boasts Roman mosaics. Day is fading so unfortunately we hurry through the area, which I think would be a good place to spend about three days.

Where will we stay tonight? We look for auto-camping so we can plug in to the electricity. The evenings are not fun if we don't have heat. We do have a furnace, but running it for any length of time drains the battery. We are comfortable in bed under the down comforter so we tend to get into bed early on cold nights. We see an auto-camp sign along the highway so we watch for its entrance and make our way down a very steep hill in the trees...no road lights. Three men come up the road. Hmm. They don't seem like campers. In another minute we come across many men climbing the hill. This is creepy and scary so let's get out of here! There are no campers to be seen.

The next town is Petrovak. We explore it for sleeping possibilities and end up at the police and fire station. David knocks on the fire station door. Four burly firemen are watching TV. “Sure, you can park right here for the night.” It was one of those nights that we jumped under the feathers early...and we felt safe with those big guys near us! Wind, lightening and thunder through the night. In the morning light we could see the collection of fire engines. Two are old and sweet, but working, and one is a new Mercedes.

The country of Albania is next. We get on the road early. Some haystack rocks in the sea remind me of Oregon. Fall colors are green-golds here. No reds. The rock mountains are receding and more vegetation takes their place. A rugged coast with coves of villages snugged in the recesses. It has the feeling of the California Big Sur, those familiar wind swept pines. We stop at a lonely beach for breakfast and a stretch. This seems to be a small community summer beach, with food and drink and toilets, but it is all wrapped up tightly for winter. The wind is playing with the sea again. It moves in gusts in all directions, pushing and digging against the flow or skimming white mist off the surf, sending it spraying and racing. I find many berries and leaves that I have never seen before, but the most interesting is the 15 foot tall Aloe Vera!

We are heading inland now, the road winding like a snake along a high plateau. Snow Drops are in bloom. Rural, old world villages. Cars are older here...not so many shiny new models. The road leads through the center of a town. People are milling about...mostly men without jobs. It is market day. We have to push the van through the crowd. On the open road again there are sweet little donkeys on the loose. A man leads one cow on a rope. Mosque spires are skinny and tall, looking a bit like space rockets. They are minarets. We brake for a hen strutting slowly across the road. Farmers and herders wear old tweed jackets and handsome worn hats.

At 11:00 am we reach the Albanian border. After the usual passport and car papers ritual, we are “welcomed to Albania” by the police officer on duty. He is quite pleased with the American license plate. We find the borders confusing. It seems there is always construction going on and no signage...at least not in English. We are never sure if we are getting into the right line. And then there are two booths to go to...the customs and the police. And sometimes two border crossings...sometimes not...the country you are leaving and the country you are going to. But, we have made it through once again. What will Albania be like?

Right away it reminds us of Romania. The people here are having a hard time just existing. In many ways the country has remained back in another time, though many are trying hard to change their lives. They want a better life. There are mosques...and there are wartime bunkers. Bikes, motorcycles and old cars. Traditional clothing such as men wearing flat-topped turbans or black berets, women in large white scarves, long skirts and aprons walking the dusty road. We are driving on the flats but there is also a wall of mountains not too far away. There is hardly a string of Christmas lights...but there are notably a few. I guess we will not be handing out our usual Merry Christmas. Our guide book says that 70% are Muslim, 20% are Christian Orthodox and 10% Catholic...though it also says that up to 75% of the population is non-religious. A secular society.

More interesting sights along the road. A very wide flat flooded river with fishermen huts up on stilts. A castle or fort hewn out of the rock hill. A gypsy town, kids not in school. Bicycles used for cargo carriers, some being walked, others being ridden. They know and trust their bikes...how to pile them high without mishap. All towns have gatherings of men. Old and shabby buses. Carts and horses. We are traveling inland. Perhaps things are better on their coast. Old style hay stacks with a stick supporting them up through the middle. A gypsy woman sitting at the roadside with live turkeys for sale...just what we need for our Christmas meal! But we are not bringing a live (or dead) turkey into the van. And then we see turkeys in bunches being herded along like sheep! And then we see a fellow pulling two dead geese out of the bus baggage compartment. There are water tanks on top of some of the houses. David says that water is pumped up there on “good water days” so it can be used during drought. I am really enjoying this day of driving and looking at everything.

We are in country like Bakersfield, California...a wide valley with mountains on both sides. Periodically there are policeman stationed to wave you over with their little ping pong bats with long handles, green on one side, red on the other. They never bother with us. It always seems to be men in dark cars they want to search. We pull over for gas. “No we do not take any credit cards. Leke or Euros.”

The bad economy. They want cash! ($1 = 98 leke / 1 euro = 142 leke) One would think that we would be saving so much money when our money is worth more than the country we are in. It just does not work that way. Things are more expensive plus large taxes on stuff...25% on groceries! There are many gas stations. So many that I don't know how they can make it with so much competition. It is a main road to its capital and to Greece but we did not see that many cars. We do notice a lot of old Mercedes Benz cars. I guess they were sold on the black market at one time, to avoid heavy taxes.

There is certainly a natural beauty here in Albania but your eye first notices the ugly. Restaurants and hotels that we would never go into. Junk and trash and dreams gone sour. Too much war to get ahead? Bad governments? Bad choices? We read that it is having a boom but we do not see it. We read that it is looking at EU membership but we do not see it.

Tirana. We drove through this town of crazy chaos. People and cars vying for position. So many people, so many cars! There is no way that we could park our car and feel comfortable about leaving it to walk in the city. Not so much the worry of theft, but it might get bashed into! Street markets line the sidewalks in front of the regular stores. People selling anything they can. Colorful! Busy! This place is alive! Sheep, secured with ropes, join in with everyone else in the town streets, finding what they can along fence-lines. An old lady wanders in the street between the cars, begging. This is the most different place we have been, the culture is out in the open for us to gawk at in awe. There is an empty lot full of huge piles of used clothing. People are picking through them. Horns honk, honk, honk. At an intersection a policeman is there to direct traffic. Cars stop. Cars go. No one pays a bit of attention to the officer. He lights up a cigarette. Young gypsy women with babies in their arms wander through the cars begging, their faces portraying their need and concern for their babies, but the child may not even be theirs! Dramatic actors, though I am sure they are in need. Wild and crazy place! But there is the side that is grounded and working. Little boys laughing with each other, dressed in school uniforms. Best girlfriends arm and arm, smiling and telling each other secrets. Old guys just shooting the breeze. Most of the horn honking seems friendly and helpful. Maybe the scene just looks like chaos to us? Pretty girls neatly and fashionably dressed in boots and scarves at their necks and big purses over their shoulders, on their way to lunch, to work, to a hair appointment? Stray dogs are foraging for something to eat, but there are pet hospitals and vets. And through the city tall thin minarets point to heaven and melodically wine their calls to worship.

We see some familiar names, Carrefour Super Markets, an Adidas store and much more in a large mall. So malls are here too, a bit removed from the chaos. We are leaving the city. Still the traffic is heavy. Cars mixed with three wheel cars with cargo, many buses and trucks. Slowly we move on ahead. Very slowly. Impatient drivers dive out into the oncoming lane to pass. There is no way to see ahead. They do this without fear. Whew!

On our way at a decent speed now we can breath and enjoy the sunshine and views. Yet another castle on a hill. And in the fields are goats, being watched and moved by herders. A billboard is advertising Sarajevo Marlboros, custom made by Philip Morris for Bosnia. Signs for workers ahead. A landslide on the road, water and dirt. One lane has been opened so we take turns with the on-coming traffic...directed by automatic lights.

The route takes us into the mountains. We can see layer upon layer of low mountains but a few stick out high, wide and huge like Mt. Rainier, almost obliterated by clouds. We drive across a high ridge with mountains on both sides of us. As we come down from the heights we enter a wide river delta where the city of Elbasan is situated. An inland industrial area, with wide streets like Aurora in Seattle or Division in Spokane. Small roadside shops specialize in hub caps, many shiny designs. Car washes. Everywhere we observe people washing their cars. We veer off toward the next town, Korce.

A donkey is clip clopping sprightly along, loaded to the gills, being led by his master. Donkeys, for the first time in our travels, are the animal of choice. Wheel barrows are the most important tool. And brooms...for sweeping the doorsteps. Small buses are moving in all directions, full of passengers, picking up, dropping off.

We follow the river into the mountains and into a tight valley, then up and over a mountain pass and down to Lake Ohrid, which is shared with Macedonia. The roads are terrible. Potholes! Unexpected and hard to dodge. They will shake this little van to pieces. It is so irritating! A small town is open for Christmas sales. Holiday lights are scattered in the darkness, all of them blinking. They are hung in a pleasant casual way, nothing perfect. Santa and his reindeer have even made their way here!

We begin to look for a place to stay the night. Nothing looks safe or inviting. We stop by some roadside shops. A man is coming toward us so I roll down my window and ask, “Do you know of any auto-camping close-by?” He is the owner of the little grocery we are parked in front of. It doesn't take long before the whole family is involved. Nobody speaks English. The granddaughter is called from their home. Dea (Day-ah “goddess” in Latin) speaks English. They are all so kind to us. Soon we are parked in a parking lot he owns, and we are plugged into electricity. Just the dearest people. Dea is in her last year of high school and has always wanted to become a doctor. She is a straight A student who loves math and science. She is beautiful and a good good person. Long dark hair, nice smile and a bit serious. I wonder how she will make it. Life is so hard and money short. Maybe there is a chance for scholarships. The family is: Grandfather and grandmother, their daughter and granddaughter Dea. All of them huddle around us to make things work for us. It is Christmas in a few days...so I look around for some gifts to leave for their graciousness. I am ahead in my knitting so Dea gets a scarf and hat, Grandpa gets a hat, Grandma gets a large black and white mug and Dea’s mom, a package of my Klee Wyck cards. They really made Christmas happen for me.

Friday, Dec. 21

Last night we listened to Christmas music on a local station. It was mostly rock pop in English and some in the local language. Music is the fastest way to bring one into any celebration, especially Christmas.

During the night David was sick and we had to change the sheets. Glad we brought lots of changes. I wonder how on earth we will wash them all. No laundromats here. And no dryers. David is a bit better but exhausted and a little queasy...but still ready to drive on. We have not figured out what bug got to him. I am fine.

Korce. We drive through it. Another town of chaos. In the middle of it all is a gorgeous palace (or church?). It has a Russian feel to it. Too many people, too many cars. Pedestrians rule, and they know it. They just start walking and expect the cars to look out for them. Though the flavor is exciting and exotic, we keep going. Shrines are different here. On stilts or pedestals and remind me of birdhouses at home. There is more snow on the mountains, white-white and fresh. Gloria In Excelcious Deo is being sung by a large choir. Yes it is Christmas!

At 11:45 am. we reach the border of Greece. First the Albanian border check point. They are checking everyone. It is scary. Police with guns on their hips. Lots of men, again in dark cars. All luggage gets opened. A mirror is stuck under the chassis to see if anything is attached. Yikes! What will they do to us? Just before we entered the border area there was a friendly sign that said, HAVE A NICE TRIP! We were waved through both borders easily and on our way in no time.

The weather report says COLD and SNOWY. We are in rich colored earth areas; yummy deep reds, orange-yellow rusts. But shortly we are in snow. Road signs say watch out for deer and bear. Shrines along the twisty steep roads, places where people have lost their lives. The snow gets deeper and deeper though the roads are clear. The trees are laden with big clumps that hang over the road. So very beautiful, that silent winter grace. We pass by two ski slopes, the chairs are moving...one lone skier zig zags gracefully down the open swath. It is Friday, perhaps tomorrow others will join him! A wood and stone ski lodge looks inviting but we keep going...soon descending. At a lower level the deciduous trees are dusted with snow. A different pattern than the evergreens we are used to. The mountain villages and roads are kept up clean. Clean and fresh like the air. It is Winter Solstice. Without family and friends this season, we need all the snowy help we can get!

Out of the snow and into the hills of Northern Greece. Vegetation is thick and dense and close to the ground with grass or stone spaces between them. Short scrub brush and trees. We have this road all to ourselves through a valley of apple orchards. A pale winter sun looking frosty. We have followed the route given to us by Rainer, a German traveler. It has been so enjoyable and lusciously varied. But the town ofEdessa marks the turn toward Turkey on a big classy EU highway.

This Greek alphabet is so strange and beautiful. We cannot even guess at what signs say. The “L” is an upside-down “V” I think. A sign in a small town says Gyros! We know that word! Oh yes, we must have a gyros in Greece. So good and jam-packed and greasy (or Greecey?). The joint feels American. It is playing jazzy pop Christmas music. The waitress is chewing gum. Longish blond hair. It feels like the 1950's. The tasty food and the ambiance did not disappoint.

We stop in Kavala. This is a bustling city on an Aegean bay. There is an old town to explore. A family fun park in the city center. It just feels good. “Let's stay here for Christmas. Find a little apartment, something with a kitchen and make ourselves a special meal. Decorate a bit. Get KPBX streaming in over the computer speakers...maybe even hear friend Vern's great radio voice.” But a trip to the Tourist Information folks reveals that the town is full. Especially with our specifications... a kitchen and cheap! So we book a place in a town about 15 kilometers away, Lydia.

Lydia is an interesting place. We find that our apartment is in Philipi or Filipi (Philip II)...Macedonian city ruins with a still used stone tiered Roman amphitheater. It is believed that a colony was already on that site in 356 BC. Philip's objective was to take over the neighboring gold mines to add to the wealth of his kingdom. Eventually the Romans took over, building the theater, temples and fortified walls. The most amazing part of this is that according to the New Testament, in Philippians...Letter to the Philippians...and in Acts, Paul and other Apostles came to this city. Maybe even Luke (author of Acts). It is said that he preached here for the first time. The beginnings of Christianity were right here.

Our little apartment is so sweet, as is the family who owns it. We are the only residents over Christmas. Nicos, the son, is in college in another town taking a statistics course but is home for Christmas and he is the only one who speaks English in the family, so he has a job he was not expecting! Dealing with us! His sister Zoey also lives here with the parents. They are all so helpful and gracious. In this town another sister lives. She is the mother of their only grandchild, 8 year old Elena or Helena. A warm and close Greek family.

With the help and concern of the family, and a plate of homemade holiday cookies, we settle into our little home for Christmas. The apartment is new, decorated in a traditional Greek style. Blond wood cabinets line one wall and through its glass doors we can see wine glasses and goblets and glass liquor sets, rot iron and glass candles holders...just like we were in someone's home. The cabinet design is European, maybe even toward a Greek style. The sofa and big chair are covered in matching throws in a bold pattern. No dining table but in its place a large coffee table which we use for eating. On the wood top a white lace table cloth has been placed in diamond position and on top of that a piece of clear plastic. So our table stayed pretty and we did not have to worry about soiling the pretty cloth. A flowered carpet lies on faux-marble ceramic tiles. The kitchen is on another wall. Small and neat and ready-made. The stove top and oven are one piece, the size of a standard microwave. There is another pretty cut-out table cloth on the low refrigerator top with a large silk fern and rose bouquet set on top. The refrigerator is stuffed with our food, as is one kitchen cabinet.

We have WIFI for a few days! We find Spokane's KPBX on the computer and hear some great music and familiar voices of the radio hosts, while enjoying a good meal. We try a little TV but can't understand a thing so we are not amused for long. There is no hot water! I take a shower in the cold, sort of tepid water, then we are off to sleep in a large comfy bed. Still a bit cold in the bedroom, we are happy to pull the ample blankets up around us and cozy up.

December 23

It is Sunday and very quiet. The hot water is turned on! We hang around home and the neighborhood, taking a leisurely walk though the streets. Along the way we met a Santa-looking man with a mess of white curly hair and beard, and a fun-loving demeanor...he even had a Santa belly. He was carrying a package, just like Santa! Ah, but it was for Christmas dinner, a very large hunk of a cow, all wrapped up nicely in white butcher paper. His granddaughter was with him. A 14 year old clone of him, except her curly hair was longer and brunette. She did a lot of giggling when we tried to communicate, and he just kept talking in Greek. It was fun. We continued on around several blocks and ran into them again. They passed us by with a big friendly wave, granddaughter hugging Santa tightly as they speed by on their motorcycle.

Monday, wash day. The owner consented to let us use her washing machine. It took us all day! Zoey, her daughter, would come down and tell us when each load was complete so we could fill it up again. Two white loads and a dark. They were all hung to dry in our apartment on racks that were lent to us. Leaving the apartment looking like a laundry establishment, we went to the grocery store to see what we could find for a special Christmas dinner. Greek words on different packages and no English spoken, but it is always so interesting to see what there is on the shelves and laugh at our attempts to play at the game of charades while selecting olives, cheeses, meats or asking where the cinnamon might be. The sales people have as much fun as we do.

Christmas Day

We found the Spirit of Christmas, even here alone, but we missed our families. The young ones are growing up while we are gone. This adventure is a trade-off...not always an easy one. A concert on television helped. Music of many countries in many languages. Soloists; male and female, a large orchestra, two choirs; adult and children. A rendition of WHITE CHRISTMAS brought a tear and a lump in my throat. The doorbell rang. The granddaughter with a big oval plate of special foods! Meats and dolmas. Traditionally Greek Holiday foods. So this offering became our lunch! Quite a treat along with a small glass or two of Ouzo. The Christmas cookies are nearly gone.

For most of the day we listened to music streaming in on our computer. Not only KPBX, but other favorite stations we have known over the years, KPLU for an example.

And...we made and ate a delicious dinner...

Pork Chops

Gravy

Grandma Black's Tomato-Apple Relish

Mashed Potatoes

Mixed Broccoli and Carrots

Greek Olives and Stuffed Green Olives

White Wine

Peanut-Caramel Creme Cake

THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

> There are many cars in Eastern Europe that have installed propane tanks in the trunks of their cars. Gas stations carry propane in regular pumps...along-side of diesel and benzine (regular gas). We see new cars being driven that have both gas and propane, automatically switching over when one runs out.

>Often there are cats in the large garbage pick-up bins. I found this out because I hit one on the head by mistake. Now I look first!

>Finally I have learned to make the easy calculation from Celsius to Fahrenheit. Double the Celsius temperature and add 30.

>Like Home Depot sells garden sheds, a similar type of store here sells ready- made temples and shrines.

>The license plates in Greece are identical to all the other EU countries, but, the letters have to be readable in an English alphabet...hence they cannot use all the traditional Greek letters.

December 26

Goodby to our Greek family. Hugs and kisses and waves from the balcony. We have transferred our Christmas center piece to the dash of the camper...though we are without our little red angel. She fell from the greenery to the floor and is under the apartment cabinet! So sad. Today we will be in Turkey!

Croatia

November 13

After finally letting go of Lijana and her library and her co-workers … and Ljubljanaand the country of Slovenia, we drive in the darkness to Porec (porrich) on a Croatian coast peninsula, the district of Istria (a long oblong shape, known for its beauty and mix of Croat and Italian culture). It is one of two first Roman colonies in Istria. We stop in town to sleep not knowing what we will see when morning arrives. We wake to sunshine...blue skies, a brisk breeze and a beautiful waterfront behind the protection of islands. This is a popular vacation town but in November there are not many of us outsiders. The old town of course, is the most interesting. We find its central square the first morning and make our way down hill and walk along the sea wall around the old village fortified wall until we duck into the narrow streets to find the Euphrasian Basilica, a UNESCO World Heritage site. This basilica is very well known for the survival of 2,000 years of places of worship, built one on top of the another. The high rounded alter area is mosaic decorated. Absolutely stunning. Tiny tile pieces of all colors and seashells.

Outside, in a courtyard, there are smooth columns with decorated tops and a collection of the remains, in pieces, of older churches. The low sunlight spills through arches and decayed cracks in the stone walls providing excellent photo-ops. In this old town almost all styles and periods of the history of urban development are present.

Back at the sea wall, we sit at a table with beers in hand, watching fishing boats come and go. We go limp with contentment. Why be anywhere else at this moment?

We stay in Porec for three days. The town size and layout suits us and we can park close to the waterfront for free (it takes a bit of figuring about the parking hours, after 4:00 it is free...so we just never move the car). The old town is very close, comfy, welcoming and lovely to stroll in. We are having computer problems. Nicolette, at the Information Bureau is so helpful, friendly and...adorable! We visit her for help every day. On the edge of old town there is a good and very established market...some of it open every day. Our biggest help is the little library in the middle of the winding canyon-like streets. We spend time here catching up with emails, doing research on future travels... and me...rewriting and writing the blog. I just cannot give up now! Someday David and I will read it to each other and it will spark so many memories and conversations.

By now my netscape email account is suspended. I have a notice pop up on my screen that says there has been suspicious activity. How frustrating. For a few days we only have a new gmail account. My netscape account holds my blog for Austria through Italy somewhere in the universe. Keep your fingers crossed...or pray. It does not feel good knowing that whomever stole the computer might have sold information along with it. I have satisfied my bank worries by talking to my personal banker. But, email is our life-line to family and friends. Niece Donna is our home anchor. I had no idea when we left that I would have to ask favors from her. But we do, and she is always there to follow through. Lucky us.

But all is not bad! We walk the sea shore and the old town....stop for beers in the crisp sunshiny days and baguette sandwiches on the square.

It seems that there is a celebration happening in town. Cars in a line fly big Croatian flags and honk their horns... round and round town for a good part of the afternoon. We find out that their general, of the Yugoslavian wars 20 years ago, has been exonerated. He is free of the accusation that he is the responsible person for starting the wars, for the genocide that occurred. In a way it frees the citizens of the country, also.

November 17

South of Porec we spend some days inRovinj (Roveenyeh). It doesn't take long before we are again so comfortable in our wanderings. Parking isn't as easy...and it costs! This is such an ancient, still working fishing town. So many boats in the harbor we wonder how their owners get in and out of the maize. Of course there is an old town here (It is usually our biggest interest).

On our way into town we see a whole pig cooking on a spit. Good visual advertising. Hmmmmm. Should we go there for dinner? Well we do. The food wasn't great...David has lamb ribs that are dry and bland. The pig is not dry but greasy. Also bland. But we are sitting where we can watch TV, usually not a favorable thing. Here was a European game we had never seen. Hand Ball (Not the USA version). It is fast and fun to watch. A cross between basketball and soccer maybe? Instead of basketball nets there are goal cages with goalies. There are six players on each side. The ball is smaller so it fits a hand because they seldom dribble, but throw it to one another. It seems to me that the goalie does not have much of a chance to save his team's goal from the speeding ball, but sometimes he is successful.

We visit a boat museum. This town has a special type of small boat that they are very proud of. It is called a Batana. They are handmade wooden flat bottom sailboats... fishing boats, though sometimes raced. The fisher puts out a few lines and attends them constantly, re-throwing the line out so it does not drift to the bottom. When a fish is on it is finally caught into a hand fishnet. At night they use large lights that can swing out on an arm and focus into the sea beside the Batana. This draws the fish to them. Each boat sail has a family crest or coat of arms, sometimes the whole sail, sometimes a small crest. The woman tending the museum was making little sails, sewing them on to a tiny boom and mast. On the back was written the name of the owner or family and a year when they built their boat. Today, these boats race in an annual regatta. “Let's get a sail for our van!” We chose the cheery sail of the first woman boat builder and sailor. 1922

We walk the hill streets with the goal being the church at the top. It is an added attraction to have to climb the old town. Along the way we find Crisia Street, an alley of art studios and shops. Not too much happening in this season but a few doors were open so we could browse. The extremely tall church bell tower has a wonderful statue on top, St. Euphemia, but the beauty and uniqueness of it is that this Saint is at the helm...a ships wheel under his hand...he is keeping watch. He is large and so alone up there that he is visible from a long way off. We enter the church and stay awhile to watch a wedding. The couple and their two attendants are sitting in chairs in front of the priest. Makes sense...as these rituals tend to take a long time here.

Back down the hill through different alley-like pathways. It is fabulous. We wish we were not so far away from home as it would be such a wonderful thing to live in an ancient place. Time for North America to start building some old towns fashioned after Europe's! We reach the bottom, find a sidewalk cafe and order two cappuccinos. Let's just watch the local color. Boats are just yards from us, bobbing gently. It is cloudy and cool.

Dinner tonight. Something to warm us from the inside out. Soup. Let's see. What do we have?

Cook a few wide egg noodles

Slice Kielbasa small and fry

Add thin sliced carrots and small zucchini chunks

Add chopped onion

Add water

Add chicken noodle soup mix

Add 3 cloves of crushed garlic

Basil to taste

Curry to taste

Chopped parsley

It was pretty good. Better than pig!

November 19

We are in Pula, still in Istria, but this town is much bigger. Still, it is full of charm. But the biggest bang is the Roman amphitheater (the gladiators' Arena) in the center of town. The GPS takes us past it and we can't believe our eyes. It appears almost as big as Seattles old Kingdome. And it seems in such good shape. After gathering some information we find out that it is still used as this towns gathering place for concerts and civic activities. Two millennium it has been in use!

David has his hotmail back and is answering his 125 backup of emails. We are at a cafe on the Roman forum/square. Across from us and above us proudly stands the temple of Augustus. The original temple standing in its whole state! I have never seen such a thing. It is glorious. We are sitting on the lower plebeian level.

We come to this cafe a few times. I love spending time here. Free WIFI, good coffee. This is not really a cafe, it is a bar where you can get any drink you want, including hard liquor. No food. The interior walls are light terracotta orange with bits of the original surface showing through, hand painted flowery swirls. There is an exhibition of art on the walls. And several pieces of three dimensional art scattered around. All the furniture that is not upholstered is hand painted in fun designs and colors. Tile floors. Lots of space.

When exploring a city, you must take inviting streets that twist and wind so that you only see a hint of what they have to offer. Along one of these we find a good gallery. The works are in black and white, a few different artists, a few different mediums. Strong and forceful. Some large nudes in the style of Picasso. Minimal line-work.

In the evening David went to the library. I wanted to hole-up in the van and write. A safe little private womb. No interruptions. But was I wrong! I must have looked very suspicious with my headlamp on so that I could see the keyboard. I was at the table sitting on the “couch”. Worked for me. But someone reported me! Two policemen tap-tapped at my side window. I slid it open, a small shallow size window, and shone my headlamp in their faces. “You can't park here. What are you doing in there?” My answer... “I am working on my computer and waiting for my husband to come back from the library.” When they saw this grey hair and my van office they said...”Fine, you just stay where you are. We just wanted to see if you were okay.”

The next day I sit alone at a seaside bar/cafe. David left an hour ago to put money in the parking meter. Where the heck is he? At the table next to me are musicians and singers. They are very entertaining as they seem to be working out some music and break into song or parts of the scale. They are old, well, maybe like me. The women is dressed like a young woman, long black hair and lots of lipstick on her pouty lips. Maybe she is famous? Many passers by greet her. David returns. He has been taking pictures.

We are moving off the Istria peninsula to Rijeka (Ray Ke), but first we have been told that right next door is a lovely beach town spilling down a hill to the sea. Opatija. This is a town of luxury. Lovely homes. Stores of quality. Ladies with filled shopping bags balancing their long legs on very high heels. Some of them actually have it down pat. There is nothing much here to interest us but it is late and we stay the night. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Our favorite holiday. Invite friends and family and serve them the works. No friends, no family. What will that turn out to be like?

In the morning we have to make a sort of Bonnie and Clyde getaway as the meter maid is heading our way and we have slept in! Happy Thanksgiving, David! We are thankful to be doing this adventure together. The anticipation was much worse than facing the day. No one else here knows that it is Thanksgiving! So life goes on as usual.

Rijeka. We like this city. Lots of pedestrian streets. Lots of people out having fun. We wandered as usual. Found some Christmas gifts in a small store and talked with the sales lady. “How do you like your city?”, we ask. “There is nothing here to do. Can't find a good job. I have a degree in economics. I am trying to move to Vancouver to live and work where I have relatives.” I love her haircut! There are talented people here.

On the way into the Modern Art Gallery to see a photo exhibit we talk with a young student. “You speak very good English.” we say. “Oh, that's because I lived in Vancouver for a few years.”

Here is an interesting gallery. Let's pop in. It is between shows but the artist is there getting ready to set up. His name is Dik and we start to talk about his work. He is a photographer who started a project in 2000. He has walked along much of the Mediterranean shooting photos of social comment. He stops and has exhibitions along the way. A single Dutchman...who pegs David as being Dutch.

There is fun colorful art around the city. Murals on walls. Two crazy make-believe ships. They are all by one artist. Voje Radoicica. I take lots of pictures because I like his spirit. Maybe some will rub off. A day here seems to be enough. So we move on to Senje, further down the coast.

Senje. Missy GPS took us on a wild goose chase! The drunken ball could not stay on the road. We turned on her voice which we have always done without. Even she was tongue-tied. Finally, all parts woke up. It is windy and cold. Folks in Senje are dressed in wool hats and winter coats. We must keep heading south!

Rock, rock everywhere. It is sandy colored at first but gets whiter and whiter as we move south. David says it is Tuff, the lovely light rock that is used in blocks on streets here. And on buildings. And in sculptures. It is easy to manipulate when it first is quarried but hardens in the air. Perfect for carving and then a long life.

We come to a remarkable sight. A white island floating on the flat water, like a Lawren Harris painting, reflections shining into the quiet blue and grey surface. There is mist about, playing with the color of the sky, the sun, the water. The scene is magical. Is it a huge beluga whale just rising from the sea? Is it a rounded worn iceberg that has lost its way? We pull the van into position. Sliding door open. We eat lunch and gaze at this wonder.

We continue along down the coast, always by the water but sometimes high above and sometimes at its edge. On the other side of our road are hills and mountains with bits of scrubby trees and low bush. White scree, then white boulders interspersed with fluffy rounded pines the same size as the boulders. Bright sun spots, made by “God rays” through holes in the clouds, on otherwise grey water, look like spots of spilled yellow paint.

The route takes us down a long hill of switchbacks to Prizna where the Jadrolinjeferry takes us to the long slim Island of Pag (Pog). Just a 15 minute ride. When we get off the ferry we think we are on an unknown dry white planet. What did we come here for? It seems there is nothing growing but there must be something as we see black sheep in a rocky white pasture! And their heads are down pulling and chewing something. As we move over and down island, green plants appear slowly until there are actually grass fields in the valleys. And trees. And towns. Driving off island at the south end we see salt pans, capturing that lovely sea salt we love. A bit to the east we stop in the village ofRazanac. We park for the night next to the fishing boats. Lots of activity and action. Most of the boats are small, set up for a single fisherman and maybe a friend to talk to. I think they fish mainly for themselves. I am sure the food is much needed for their families as jobs are scarce. This is one way to feel engaged and needed. And the friendships of the men are so solid and brotherly.

At night a few of the bigger commercial boats come in with lights on to show the way, but the small guys pole their way through their buddy’s' boats to a spot they call theirs, in the dark black of sky and water. We hope we are not in the way of all this work and banter and clean-up. It is a treat to us. In the darkness, when everything is quiet, the white gulls silently and gracefully circle the boats. A few folks walk by. The last skipper in, starts up his car and creeps past us for home.

In the middle of the night we are awakened to voices passing our window. Men’s voices, happy and animated. Then they break into song, a song of tradition, of hope, of people of one country. Four part beautiful harmony. About five men. One tenor voice soars above, wailing his own tune. What is this about? We can only feel blessed as we again drift off to sleep.

November 24

The city of Zadar. First things first. I still cannot get into my email, even after successfully providing a new password. A password that is so difficult it takes me much longer to accomplish the act of logging in. Ah, but when I log in I am not allowed to log in! We are sent to SUPER NOVA, a mall that rivals anything we know at home. In fact, for an hour we think we are at home. We find a computer store and spend time with the nicest young fellow who tries but cannot help us. I want to forget that anything is wrong. I am so tired of dealing with electronics, even my phone sometimes trips me up. It is Saturday. Let's just play for the rest of the weekend.

We certainly picked the place to play! The town was sparking! It was their annual celebration of the birth of their town BUT they were also celebrating the freedom of General Ante Gotovina. He had come to join the festivities! On the stage was a band, and song leaders and those celebrating below were jumping and singing and waving flags and arms. Song after song...everyone knew the words. The young were going wild, the old, just watching....the latter are the folks who were there...in the war...lost those dear to them. They were happy but they were also remembering. David and I got into the thick of it. We clapped and danced in place. There was no stopping the energy. Ah, the mystery of the night time singers in Razanac is solved. They were singing some of these same songs.

A Croatian Navy training ship was tied up at the dock. A beautiful sailing ship. Colorful flags strung from the bow, up to the top of the mast, and back down to the stern. Semaphore flags, spelling out the name of the ship. KRALJICA MORA.

We pull into the town of Biograde as darkness falls... which often seems our pattern. It is a lovely small town on the sea. Expensive hotels, expensive boats for rent. Ferries leave here to many islands. Much of the town is closed down for the winter season. It is nice for us. Quiet. Parking is close to the sea. Flat terrain. A few tour buses from Germany arrive to the only open hotel. After they get settled they walk in twos and threes along the promenade in front of us.

November 25

In the morning everyone in town is out and about, all dressed in their best. It is Sunday. The little children are scrubbed clean and dressed in the dearest little outfits. Families greet each other. It is a small town. We make pancakes on our stove and get out the jams friends have given us along the way. Plum from France. Cherry from Transylvania. We are on the edge of the old town so of course we walk in and around it. A nice stay.

Before we move on we stop at a small gas station that has a water faucet. “Can we fill our water tank?” “Certainly.” It is so satisfying to have a full tank of water and a full tank of propane. And the refrigerator and cupboards are also stocked full.

So, to continue....my usual dialogue as we travel to our next destination...can't help myself...

There are shrines to Mary everywhere along the road. It feels to me that they are built to protect the property and the people who live there. David tells me that in Greece often a sailor has built the shrine because of a promise made to God. “If my life is spared in a storm I will build you a shrine.”

The temperature is to my liking. Somewhere between warm and cool. Butterflies and snapdragons, bougainvillea and roses, palm trees. We are heading south. Wind generators on the hills. So much rock! Years of clearing it to the side, generations of clearing, to plant what they need for themselves and what they can sell to others. Hillsides covered with grids of rock walls. Shepherds' round stone huts. Olive trees with a bit different leaf than we are used to.

THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

> Road signs, CAUTION, WILD BOARS

> Wouldn't it be nice if a priority of all countries would be to see themselves as stewards of the piece of earth that has come under their jurisdiction.

> I ran into a pickle.... needed to use the restroom and found that the doors only had written words on them... no graphic pictures. Hmmm? And another time, trying to make our way out of a parking garage... which way is out? Language barrier!

> David received some great emails today. Larry and Jane, Sharon and Greg, Lijana, Peter and Kim

Primosten. From the hills above we descend to this little village. What a sight from above! A small old hill village on a little round peninsula that probably was an island. It takes no time to walk through the arched gateway and climb the main wide pedestrian stairs to the small church on top. We wander the cemetery and read the names and dates and wonder at their lives. The view looks out to sea, over bumps of islands, toward Italy and to the side, into the protective bay where fishing boats are harbored. Sand colored pebble beaches follow the crescent along the road. The market square is quiet. This is one of those picture perfect places, but today it does not call us to stay. We move on to Rogoznica.

Rogoznica is a medium village and harbor. It seems pretty quiet here. Another coastal town that relies on tourists and boaters. The setting reminds us of Poulsbo in Washington State. We drive through it and pull over to a spot where we can enjoy the sunset. It is truly remarkable. A long slow show. Orange, purple, grey billowing clouds with darkish silhouetted islands in front. Splashes of light filter through the color. It is bright. It is subdued. It is ever-changing. Below us, by the water, a group of men are playing a serious game of bocci ball, no time or interest for sunsets. Still watching the show, I see two suns between the split of a cloud. Soft orange rays fan upwards. The water is orange, white boats are orange. As it sinks below the horizon, the sun is neon.

Show over, we circle the town in search for a place to “tie up” for the night. Back in the main stretch of town we see a motor home parked by the water. Great Britain license plates. “I wonder if they are going to stay in that prime place overnight?” David wheels our van close to theirs and hops out. A little tap on their windshield brings Peter to the door. I watch from the van as the conversation ensues. David comes back...”They are from Seattle, Queen Ann Hill, and they are traveling for a year!” That can't be true. But it is. We climb into Peter and Kim's home for a drink.

These two quickly become the most lovable pals. Early 50's. Peter is originally from England and has retained much of his soft pleasant accent. He is a passionate traveler, having seen most of the world since his twenties. He sports a mean sense of humor. I laugh, David hands it back. Kim is lovely to look at, but unassuming like a Seattlite. REI clothing. A sweet disposition. Both of them are gracious and giving. We now have a collection of their DVD's, CD's and magazines in our possession. Coffee with them in the mornings. Shared dinner at night. We bring out our chairs and sit along the walkway by the boats. In the mornings a fishing boat comes in with a catch and the local villagers arrive to buy. Late in the night we hear this boat leave for another work day. We walk around the bay to look at huge boats, both sail and motor. The most impressive is a blue black 120 foot sailboat, the mast sticking up into the clouds. The boats are both private and rentals. Another world of the rich. I am sure many Americans have plied the waterways and islands up and down this coast in one of these beauties. We hear that Bill Gates makes his way here in his boat every summer.

Oh my, after a couple of days it is so hard to leave these friends. They have invited us to their house sitting home on Lake Geneva for Christmas but alas, we have too few days left in the EU Schengen area for that to be possible....and we are too chicken to break the law. When we drive away there is a void, a sadness. Ah yes, but they live in Seattle! Hopefully we can hook up with them again before they leave for home.

After leaving the haven of Rogonica we follow Peter and Kim's advice and go toTrogir. The old town here is UNESCO protected, the best preserved in Europe. We park and walk to the pedestrian only town in the late afternoon. We are seeking the I(tourist information) and find it in the middle of the square. Maybe we will stay here. We are in need of WIFI, a shower, laundry facilities and maybe just a change in our routine. Let's wander the town first. We step into the web of narrow streets zigging and zagging, walking on the white Tuff stone, shiny like it had just been waxed, shiny from thousands and thousands of feet, generations of folks living here. Yes, let's stay. Back to the tourist office where the attendant finds us a room with WIFI and laundry facilities in the middle of this old town.

Shortly, a young man arrives to lead us to his mother's place. It is the house that he grew up in though he now lives in Split with his wife. We soon learn that Domenic is a huge fan of the US and Canada. He wishes someday to go to Vancouver and Seattle (A Grunge fan) and of course, New York City. He tells us that there are many Croatians there. This is an informative discussion in which he tells us that most Croatians know more about American politics than Americans. He says that the vote for a US President is like a vote for President of the world. His persuasion is democratic. He is very happy that Obama is still the US President. He is very proud of the relationship that Croatia and the USA have. Domenic also knows the geography of the States and the sports teams and has his favorites. He assures us that there are many who think and believe as he does. It is a common attitude. So this is my report from Domenic!

We are in a very small room on the second floor with toilet and shower...one of two rooms rented out by Domenic's mother. She and his younger sister live above and his grandmother below. The bed, side tables and cupboard doors were all made by his father. Domenic put down the wood flooring. We gather our laundry together and take it to his mother to learn how to use the washing machine. Well, she would rather do it...and “we have no dryer. I will put it on a rack on the porch outside your room.” In the morning we are clean and rested and caught up with emails...but the laundry is not dry enough to fold away so our next stop is a cleaners/laundry to finish off the job.

November 28

After picking up our dry laundry, we drive toSplit. Who can forget a name like that! It is a large city. It is late in the afternoon (gets dark at 4:30) so we position ourselves close to a library. We have work to do tomorrow.

The weather makes it easy for us to spend our time inside a library. Thunder and lightening and heavy squalls of rain. It immediately turns into rivers on the street. I am still trying to catch up to the current day on my blog writing so I use Open Office on the laptop. This focused time should help a lot. David is on the library free computer researching... places to stay for Christmas, Servas members in Croatia, and information about some of the islands we plan to make our way to. There are American jazz tunes playing loudly in the “background”! It is fun to hear but it can carry me away from my intent. (Besides music, people can speak loudly if they wish and answer their phones in the library!)

Another day in the library. It is cozy and warm. Outside the wind and rain rage. We work for a few hours then run to the van for a lunch of hot soup. David heads back to the library and I set up my office in the van and continue to write. One would think I was a writer or something...I take this blog so seriously! A tapping on the back window, then a side window...I look up and there is a boy looking at me with a big grin on his face. I smile and wave and he moves on.

I feel so at home in these two Slavic countries, Slovenia and Croatia. I have nothing in my background that relates to them but they feel more like North Americans than other countries we have been in. France, Italy, Spain, Germany...all seem more exotic, more foreign. Their willingness and ability to speak English surprises and delights me. We can have some good conversations and in that way learn more about each other.

November 30

Today is the day that we explore the Old Town of Split. Emperor Diocletian's Palace is in the center of the historic town, in fact it is the historic town. The Roman walls and buildings of the Palace area are passageways full of people looking in the myriad of shops, sitting with friends at the outdoor bars or finding a good restaurant for dinner. Evidently this is to be counted as one of the best Roman ruins in Europe. There are excellent sections intact. Beautiful sculptured lions guard the wide staircase to the large doors of a once important chamber. Decorated arches and pillars still standing strong. We buy David a navy and white striped shirt that was hanging at a shop door in the street. It reached out and said, “David, this would look great on you!” And it does! At the edge of this ancient complex we find the modern art museum. It is a pleasure to be in this exhibition place, fairly newly redesigned on the interior...many different clean, white rooms follow into the next. Once more we see very good art... artists of the country. Fresh and fun to us. We make another excellent soup for a cold day dinner. Try this: Remember, this is camp food...

Fry onion and bits of Kielbasa (or the like)

Add chopped one half green pepper

Add water, bring to boil

Add soup bowl of shredded or sliced cabbage

Add Garlic/Parsley soup mix

Whole bulb of garlic, squeezed

One big tomato, cut up

Salt and pepper

Garnish with Chopped parsley on top in each bowl

(David said...If a restaurant made this folks would be flocking to the door!)

Saturday. Half a day in Split, and then we split...(sorry). We are on our way slowly to Dubrovnik with some island side steps. We poke along in the rain, then sun, then wind...everything sparkles from the weather. Air is clear. Rivers are high, really rushing into the sea. White stone mountains rise straight out of the Cetina river canyon that we are making our way through. Wetlands along the river side. We are following our intuition instead of the GPS. Taking a short cut! Late afternoon autumn. We are in a powerful place. A place where an American Indian would have lived or frequented. Rock, water, low vegetation that is rusty colored and some dark green pines. Somewhat like the Columbia River Gorge that separates Washington and Oregon. Reading maps can be tricky...especially tourist maps that make you think the terrain is flat! We are now on steep switchbacks, making our way over a mountain pass that is not used often. Yikes. It is getting very close to nightfall. Signs show us the sharpest turns are coming up. We come to a road sign to the town of Slime. We make jokes to ease the tension. Slime, a town of giant slugs...do you think we will get stuck here? Or slip and slide?

We sneak into the hillside sea town of Makarska in the dark, find our overnight spot in the harbor and sleep through a night of thunder, lightening and rain. It is the first of December.

We wake to many church bells, each tower waiting until the one before it is finished. It is Sunday. (Happy Birthday Drew) I tackle a sewing project... to complete the blind/curtain that fits between the living area and the front seats, mainly so that we can cook with the light on and not be noticed. David walks the park trail through woods and alongside the seawall which makes a loop back to our van and stops by for me to walk the harbor. There are some sailing ships tied up across from us. We always like to take a look. The town has some sculptures with some humor attached. One is a tribute to the tourists that flock here in the summer. An animated couple walking the harbor...like us! The other is a man in a pool...nothing showing put feet, tummy and head. On the historical side, there is an original Phoenician flagpole stand decorated with a lion emblem.

We move on to Ploce. The drive there is much like looking west at Puget sound from Federal Way or toward the islands from Halfmoon Bay. This coastline is truly wonderful. In the early evening we find it, another sea port, and we park in a lot between a seaside park and a jumble of apartment buildings on the hillside. They all have fabulous views! Except maybe when their wash is handing on the balcony. One of the lowest floors seems to be a classroom for a cooking school. All the students are dressed in white with a variety of chef's caps. I ponder at what that would be like, once more starting out, learning a profession. How do you choose? Your decision will shape your life, give you opportunities. Oh well, my time for that is done and I am satisfied.

In the morning I am lying in our bed looking at a photograph by Kate King. I have looked at it a lot and never tire of it. Why is that? I ask David...”It seems to have visual longevity so that you can return to it again and again and still you are able to find something that interests you...This image is a closeup of a boat hull but it could be nature...it has a foreground and a background to it...There is color balance and contrast. Thick and thin lines...The mystery of it calls you to explore it more deeply.”

We also talk about relationship. We are together so much that relating is a constant given. We are lucky. This travel has brought us to more intimacy. We go deeper... practicing, developing skills, caring and giving. We know each other better.

It is colder today. Rainy. This town is more a working town than a tourist town. In this harbor there are tug boats, cranes for loading ships, ships to transport local aluminum, trains come through. As usual there is the pedestrian promenade along the water in the commercial/shopping area.

Today the goal is Bosnia. We seem to be in the middle of a river delta. Flat wet lands that have been made into usable land on which to grow crops. These lands are built up in grids. Walled in rock. Pea patch gardens, orchards...orange and lemon trees and other crops. There are a few shacks scattered about, I guess for tools, a place to get out of the rain. This day is dark and cold!

We reach the town of Metkovic. This is an inland town without the charm of the seaside towns. It has nothing to offer a traveler. It simply is a place to live, but we did meet Branco.... on a dead end street while we were trying to turn around in a very small space. He had an inspector uniform on. “What do you inspect in that uniform?” ...”I inspect food, green food, fruits, vegetables etc.” He had a few minutes before he had to hop in his car and be off to work. I used to work in the fish farm business, oysters and mussels, but it closed down as so many businesses and factories have. Unemployment is 23%. We have a 25% tax on food and services.” He talked about the fact that Croatia is set to join the EU next year. We asked if that was a good or bad thing. What do Croats think? “Some like it, some don't. For me, I think we should not join. Croatia does not really have anything to sell the world. Our money is made in tourism because of our coast and weather. People come here naturally. We do not need the EU to make this happen.” Somehow we got onto the subject of language. “I think it is so funny that you have spelling bees in America. In high school! Here, when a child starts first grade, they know how to spell everything.”

About spelling. Croatian spelling is very easy. When they take an English word into their language for example, they spell it like a Croatian word. (Example: Discount = Diskont / Advocate = Advokat / Apartment = Apartman ) The sounds and the way to spell them never change. There is no memory work involved. Unlike our English, we take in words from all languages and spell them as they come to us. Also, our rules do not stand, there are always exceptions. But I did learn that Croatian grammar is extremely complicated.

Before Branko leaves he gives us a list of MUST SEES.

Our hope is to reach Medugorje this evening. Notes on our map say that it is “monumental”. We cross the Bosnia Hercegovina border. No problem. Very easy and casual. Finding Medugorje is not as easy. It is not in our GPS and the signage is not good but after several attempts we arrive.

Years ago, seven teenagers claimed that they saw the Virgin Mary here. Since that time the Pilgrims have come. The town has changed. There is a church that seems to have many masses to the Virgin everyday. It is very cold and windy when we park the car and walk to the church. The sanctuary is full. People standing. It is remarkable to us that people would come here at this time of year and on such a cold blustery night. We stay awhile, but it is not for us. David asks me if I believe “stuff like that”. My answer: I believe that almost anything is possible but I don't base my beliefs on other people's experiences. Outside the church there are rows of souvenir shops lining the streets. It is pretty ugly. Again, this is not for us. So we head on out in the dark to find another place to stay the night.

And what a place we find. We are traveling on hope. It is dark and the roads are not good. After searching a bit by the water we decide to take a road to a church that we can see... all lit up and warm looking on top of a loan hill. St. Antes. We drive up on a dirt road in the dark with the light of St. Antes as the beacon. Ahh. This is the place! No one is here. There is such a view, even in the night. And a flat spot beside the cemetery wall. This makes for a good nights sleep.

December 4

1. Today we plan to go out on thePeljesac Peninsula, long and island- like. First we must go through Bosnia again, across its very small hold on the sea. (Nobody ever seems to care that we are foreigners. We always have to show our passports. Not often do we have to show our car papers and insurance document.) The water in the inlets is a milky glacier blue due to the white rock prevalent here. We cross to the peninsula. Today olives are being picked in earnest. Olive trees and vineyards on this flat ground. Giant stainless steel tanks seem other worldly beside the old stone winery.

Hills and mountains are many here also. Branco has told us about a wall on a hill at a narrow part of the peninsula at Ston. We see it! Very impressive. It was built to keep the Turks from invading and goes up one side of the hill and down the other side, across the bottom of the hill and then back up and over, crossing the hill base in an inverted V to join the rest of the wall, forming an enclosed safe place. Branco said that we should walk the wall up the hill to see what was being protected on top. We unfortunately could not find any information on it. All was quiet. The buildings below and outside the gate had that medieval castle look. We moved on without taking this trek.

On to the town of Orevic. I stop into a computer tech store to ask about WIFI in the town. There are a few men inside shooting the breeze. One notices our license plate. Where are you from? What autocamp are you staying in. So I proceed to tell our story and also that we “wild camp”, that we don't stay in campgrounds. “Oh,” he says as he stands up in front of me and shows me his badge. “Police. It is illegal in Croatia to camp outside of campgrounds.”

I am furious! I feel duped! That he let me go on talking, the more to incriminate myself...thinking that he was actually interested. I tell him that we have been in Croatia a few weeks and no one has ever bothered with us. Well, that gives him more information to use against us. At this point I tell him that we will immediately leave Croatia and that is the last thing I say. The owner of the store is apologizing to me over and over... “I am so sorry. I am so sorry.” The last thing he wants is to have people from North America treated this way. The policeman talks to David. He has certainly put the scare into us. We could be charged huge fines. He sends us to an autocamp just beyond the town and here we stay the night. It is a long time before I settle down.

And we cannot immediately leave Croatia as in the morning, backing up to put water into our water tank....David slams into a tree. The window blows out into many pieces. There is a bit of a dent on the door. A fellow camper from Germany helps us cover the window with plastic and duct tape and I clean up the glass. On the way to the VW dealer in Dubrovnik, about an hour and a half away...we eat tasty fresh Mandarin oranges that we picked off the orchard trees at the camp... but in Dubrovnik they cannot help us so we backtrack to Split, staying the night again in Makarska. In the morning we take the old road back to Split. It is St. Nicholas Day. This is the “gift day” for European kids...St. Nick comes in a boat! At a small town traffic is stopped in the road by a policeman to let a procession by. It is a tradition and ritual to move in a group to the church...some priests in robes, some religious flags flying, town people and children. Over the loud speakers there is a service already in session. Holy words and choral voices.

It is Friday. We must wait until Monday to start the van repairs.

In the meantime we stayed in a campground. A lovely place, on the water with course sand beach. BUT for most of that time we sat in the middle of a storm. Thunder, lightening, rain and 80 mile an hour winds! We moved the car away from trees and the beach edge in the middle of the night. Still, it was a good place to be. We plugged our heater into the electricity and stayed cozy. In the quiet spaces between we went for walks. The camp also had a great restaurant on a point where we spent hours on WIFI, eating pizza and watching the storm... spray spewing off the tops of waves, the white mist traveling a long way across the water. Strong gusts would push a section of water ahead of it, moving it but also flattening it.

On Monday morning we took the car into the dealer. We made ourselves comfortable, pressing a few buttons for some cappuccinos. We will wait until 3:00 when Sandra, an employee, will drive us to her rental apartment. She is a cute live wire. Her hair sticks crazily straight up (I should talk). A handsome husband and two small children. She has a shop also, handmade items only. We have been here for almost three days. Yesterday was David's birthday. We walked along the beachfront, shopped on the main street and then went to an early dinner back at the beach. Terrific view and food. Good wine. A good birthday celebration.

In the evenings we are quite cold in the apartment. Basement floor to five feet up are always cold. The heater manages to heat the rest up to the ceiling...but that is not where we spend our time. We have hats and scarves and many layers on. We read, use the computer, watch some funny stuff on TV...like old American movies...and I knit. David is planning our way through Greece to Turkey. The saving grace is the bed...just the right foam mattress and comforter. And of course there are hot showers. Tomorrow we pick up our van.

THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

> When we listen to the local news (which we cannot understand) the break between each story has a little drum piece, a few notes of a song, or a telephone ring.

>Netting over rock cliffs beside the road is anchored at the bottom with a weight every foot. A 10x10x4 cement block with a hook in it to hang on the wire net bottom.

>Question to one another...What did you think Croatia would look like, not having seen pictures? Answer: flat islands / brown / not many resorts / more “backward”, more old world / bad roads / not a coast similar to Amalfi What do we think now? Expensive harbors along with the old fisherman harbors / clean painted homes and apartments with red roofs, cream walls / rock mountains / forested islands?/ white rock / green vegetation... such a variety. Blackberries, pines, broom, along with cactus, ice plant, palms. Oranges, lemons and agave. And warm and friendly people speaking English!

> The Romans invented a mix of elements added to a little water that dries under water...IE..for stairs entering the sea, retaining walls and bridges, building harbors. We still use this. It seems quite miraculous.

>We heard from our Seattle traveling friends that they had been broken into in Verona, Italy. I think that their losses were far greater than ours. It is maddening that there are folks who think it is okay to make their living this way. Here, it is not money for drugs that they are after. They sell what they can for their own living...or use it for themselves.

December 15

Still in Split. Just like home, there are always things to take care of. This morning I need to find a headlamp. I have lost mine somewhere in the van!? Oh, someday it will show up but I cannot wait any longer. And we need to find an electrical adapter to plug into campground systems for cold nights. (That is the only time we use campgrounds.)

The last thing is to grocery shop...to fill the larder. Not knowing where items are, or not being able to read labels, we are in the store for at least two hours... it is fun!

It is 2:30. All our errands complete, we are free to continue on, so we plug in Dubrovnik as our destination. That silly GPS girl takes us to the brand new EU expensive toll freeway! There are very few cars using it. So much for the lovely seaside views, we are in the mountains. But in the end, we are more than happy to be traversing this knock-out gorgeous terrain. Rock mountain after mountain. High valleys and villages. Stunning and exciting...especially when the rain and darkness hit. We have had so much hard rain lately. More than I can ever remember. The fancy perfect freeway suddenly stops and we now have to make our way down to the coastline on crumby roads going though towns where everyone looks at us as though they have not seen an unfamiliar car in a few years. Hmmm? Miss GPS. Is she at it again? I think she took us on a short cut...a very dangerous one. The rain had flooded the orchards in the wide valley. The water was a half inch lower than the one lane road (with two way traffic). Sometimes the water was over the road and we were in a shallow river...and it was dark. If a car had come, or our vehicle stopped working, we were in trouble. There was absolutely no way we could have backed up on this wet wiggly road. As they say...luck was with us. Finally our road turned onto a good road (a clue that we were on a short cut) and we quickly made the steep downhill grade to overnight- it in Ploce. We headed for the same place we had camped before. It always feels good to be in tried and true familiar territory. Dark, but still early, we decided to explore by foot and found that this town was much bigger and more important than we thought. Wonderful sea promenade, fish boats, tug boats, ferries, aluminum storage and shipping. I woke in the middle of the night to the sound of a tug blast. I got up and peeked under the curtain. I could just see lights moving on the water, a tug pulling something... I don't know what, but the prow had a lighted Christmas tree on it.

December 16

Today we will be in Dubrovnik. To get there we must go through Bosnia then in about 20 minutes, back into Croatia. We are always confused at borders. Are you Croatian? Where do we get our passports stamped? No signs...which lane do we get into? Is this the Bosnian border? Are you the customs or the police? Do you have a road tax in your country? Yes, we have green insurance papers. Where have you come from? Where are you going? What is your money called? Oh, euros! From kunas back to euros. Let's see, where did we hide all our euros? We need a tax refund. Who takes care of that?

But we make it to Dubrovnik. We are able to park near the old town. It is Sunday. Free parking day. Oh...my...gosh. Dubrovnik. Founded 1300 years ago. It is almost a totally intact old town completely surrounded by a walkable protective wall. You know the castles with the tooth-like pattern that tops the walls? That is the look here. Roman, medieval. After the Roman Empire failed (after 1000 years!) 24 of the important families stayed to rebuild and organize the government. They even took turns ruling! Each family head would take the position for a year at a time...and they were not aloud to talk to their family during that time. Later, they began to take shorter turns and ruled for one month at a time. In 1667 a devastating earthquake hit. The town was rebuilt. In 1992 Dubrobnik was shelled by the Yugoslav army and again, the citizens began to rebuild and it continues today, but the town looks complete.

You enter through one of three gates and, like a huge amphitheater (or football stadium), make your way down the stone block stairs to the flat town center. Steeply downhill...all streets go to the center we are told. Well, I would not call them streets...they are only as wide as our van. The stuff I love...clothes on lines...old doors and thick walled windows, painted shutters, houses/apartments built with no apparent planning, hidden gardens, orange and grapefruit trees seeming to grow out of rock in tiny courtyards, cats and a few dogs, children playing in a stone square...soccer, any ball game. We walk the long marble-paved center street, the Stradun, and browse in shops, dip into churches. Christmas is here. Evening is upon us, we will have to come back tomorrow.

Oh great, we have a parking ticket! I guess the Sunday parking tradition does not stand here! Thunder, lightening again. Rain too heavy to walk in as we try to find the police station. Forget it, let's sleep now...pay tomorrow. We hunt for the address on the ticket the next day. Can't find it. I get out of the van and ask a motorcycle man. Perfect English (worked for an American firm for two years) and knew all the ropes. “Pay at any Posta...but your ticket is good until today at 3:00. Just leave your ticket where you found it on your windshield yesterday and have yourselves a good time until 3:00 today...hope you can find a place to park. You have a week to actually pay the ticket.”

So we found a place to park and had a good time until 3:00. We entered through a different gate that was closer to the sea and harbor. Our goals this day were to find some Christmas decorations for our van and to walk the city wall. David talked to a fellow for quite some time, learning about some of the town history. I decided to walk uphill, wander through “streets” and just take it all in. I find that climbing up the tall stone stairs is much easier than going down. How did the shorter legs of years past manage? It must have kept them in great shape. The ticket for walking the wall was not cheap! But, after reading accounts, we had to do it...and what an experience. The wall went up and then down and around and in and out. Everywhere you turned there was something so interesting, either right before your eyes or in the distance. Bays and coves and islands and cliffs and castles and watch towers and soldier lookouts with the slits for arrows. Or look over the inside of the walls to gardens and private courtyards with table and chairs, open windows with music coming forth, chimneys of all shapes and sizes and more cats and more laundry on the lines, steeples and domes and clock towers...and the surprise...a dig or excavation of a still ruined area. In the summer there are places to stop on the way for a cold drink or quick snack or relax with a glass of wine. It must be paradise then. But today it is quiet and very pleasant. A man is in swimming...it is not that warm. Lone fishermen are doing what they love the best, off the quays or out in small skiffs. An old woman slowly makes her way along the wall....she must know how to enter free. She is looking in the garbage cans. This was really fun. A good long walk and all this wonder to see.

We did not forget to shop for decorations. In a Christmas bazaar we bought a little red angel and a braid decorated silver ball, both handmade by the booth attendants. And in a small shop in a side street we talked at length with the owner about coral. Coral is expensive. I walked in thinking I could find some wooden beads to use for berries. Hegave me eight coral beads for Christmas....so we bought a string.

Dubrovnik. It is festooned with orange tree bows and dangling oranges, garlands around archways, garlands wrapped diagonally up columns. Don't miss it.

December 17

We are leaving Croatia, after a month. A country which gave us so much of its beauty and graciousness that it will continue to linger with us, but we must move along. Montenegro, Albania, Greece for Christmas and then Turkey for the coldest months of winter.