Recycler searching

the day and to dump it in one of the three nearby dumpsters.  Which one depends on which direction I’m going–they are very convenient.  It also seems normal to find a young person with a yard-square basket on a bicycle or motorcycle going through the garbage to pick out recyclables and other useful stuff.  I never put anything that could be used into a bag but lay it carefully on top of the dumpster for inspection. Sometimes there’s an even bigger high-walled cart pulled by a horse, often with a whole family in it, picking up furniture, appliances, mattresses and the like. After all, we in Alameda may just have caught on to recycling, but here it’s always been a way of life.

When Silvana and I were in the Turkish bazaar  (across the river on the north side of the city),

Shredded tobacco

I saw what looked like shredded wheat biscuits about the size of a piece of typing paper (since they were piled in boxes from copy paper, they were, in fact, exactly A4 size).  And men were looking at them and pickup up bits and smelling them.  I finally realized that I

Shopping for tobacco

was seeing home-grown and home-cured tobacco.  And sure enough, the store in the corner of the covered bazaar right next to the tobacco was selling wrapping papers, water pipes, and even hand controlled machines for rolling cigarettes. (Made us homesick for Berkeley.)

Loose tobacco too

Oh, and we keep hearing the calls of wandering (??? Vendors? Repairmen? Tinkers? Buyers? Knife Sharpeners???) but we’ve never caught one in the act, so we aren’t sure what they are calling, but the carrying, repetitive calls are distinctive.

And in our apartment, I’ve learned that the bathroom sink has the hot water on the right and the cold on the left, although the shower and the kitchen sink have them arranged normally.  The sink in the other bathroom has only one faucet which drips cold, red water regularly.  Actually, the water’s stopped being so red that it stained the sink below it now that it runs in a thin stream constantly rather than dripping intermittently.  Some days later: now there’s more to this story.  The amount of water running continued to increase so that the floor and the towel were soaked.  We called the landlord three times and he kept promising to get a plumber to fix it.  Finally, he showed up with the plumber and they did stop the faucet from running.  Then he admitted that he wished he’d done it earlier because his bathroom just below ours was streaming water through the light fixture.  Fortunately, we don’t know how to say I told you so in Macedonian.  Oh, and that new faucet turns on to the left and off to the right.

Bedding is a continual fascination. Here the available bottom bed sheets are all knitted.  But at least they’re 100% cotton.  The top sheets that came with the apartment are neither flat nor cotton–they’re crinkled and scratchy 100% polyester.  They are actually quilt covers, and since our “double bed” frame encloses two single mattresses, we had two quilt covers, not actually large enough to fit the two quilts that we have. So I sewed the two “sheets” together and they more or less cover the bed.  The double bed size available in the local stores is, anyway, not wide enough for a double bed.  Well, actually they are exactly the same width as the bed, so if you didn’t insist on getting under them, making a three dimensional lump, they would fit perfectly.  So when we went out for our Christmas trip, we kept our eyes open for regular cotton sheets.  Not available in the Balkans.  Oh, but then we went to Thessaloniki to the IKEA there.  Same kind of sheets but 100% cotton.  So we bought two sets (quilt cover and 2 pillowcases) and when we came back, we got a highly recommended tailor to sew the quilt covers into one large sheet.  So we have a generous sheet side to side, although the top to bottom size just exactly covers the bed.  Better than before. At any rate, now we’re still using one polyester set but every other week we have cotton muslin sheets.  Am I looking forward to 100% cotton percale sheets?  You bet!

On the good side of the ledger, the supermarkets have fabulous bargains available with

Heavy Italian Stainless

coupons.  We got a 8 settings of heavy Italian silverware for 800 denars.  That’s under $20.  They’re much better than the plastic-handled ones that came with the house.  And we got several pots for half price and a small blender.  We’re now giving the coupons to our cleaning lady, but if I were a newlywed trying to furnish a house, I’d find the current special of half price stainless steel pots a real temptation.  None of this will come home with us of course, but we couldn’t cook with the pots that came with the house.  Well, to be honest there are two stainless steel ones that are excellent, but the frying pans were formerly Teflon with aluminum showing through, so I didn’t think they were safe to cook in.  And the pots were deep burned brown inside and out.  The enamel wasn’t cracked tho, so we’re using those.  Yes, we are cooking full meals, and yes, sometimes most of the pots are used for one meal.  Of course, the pretty ones we bought are mostly used for serving–they’re metal but like Corningware and work best in an oven.  Any oven, just not ours.  It has no stop so when you turn it on it heats and the longer it’s on the hotter it gets.  Once, not paying attention, I put the large fancy pot in and the oven melted the attractive green plastic around the handle.  Smelled awful too.

And now it’s spring and all sorts of new things are appearing.  The tallest trees in each area are full of crows’ nests.  The biggest group has 13 nests in three trees, but there are

Shopping Time

Family Photo

several others as well with 5-7 nests.  And yes, they are in the highest branches of their trees.  And the apartment complex we walk through (where there must be a military office or military housing because people in uniform are always going in and out) is surrounded by cherry trees, now in full flower.

Cherry Trees

And we pass a couple of flowering quince

(which I recognize because we had one in the yard on Prospect Street.  Then yesterday I took a different way home (instead of the paths inside the apartment complexes, I went out on the main street Vasco Karangelevski).  It is, by the way, main enough that it actually has wide sidewalks—bordered by a continuous row of forsythia.

Forsythia

The fields are filling with purple flowers and little white daisy things and tiny blue 4-petaled flowers fill in the spaces if you look carefully. There is also birdsong (and crow squawk) everywhere.  The trees are full of birds of all kinds so some of them have to walk around in the flowery fields.

Mockingbird, I think

We bought a gillyflower (I think) a month ago, but it died on replanting.  Saturday before last we got daffodils but wanted something that would last.  So now we have an orange impatiens on the table, and it seems to be doing well—it’s in continuous flower at least.  And we are living with our French doors wide open—up in our elegant penthouse.  I hope winter doesn’t come back at all.

So today we went for a walk and saw flowering almonds as well.  Our entire street is lined with trees, and now all of them are showing at least a haze of green.  We walked to another shopping center (just to have a destination).  However, we found there the large version of our 3-D map of Macedonia, which now graces our bedroom wall. Better for me—I don’t have to put my glasses on to see the names of smaller places.

At night out our window to the southwest we can see the mountains south of us, and a large village/section of Skopje climbing up them. Behind them, we can see snow-capped mountains which are obviously much taller. Almost directly west is the highest mountain in

The Cross

the immediate vicinity of Skopje with a huge cross on top of it.  This would be a great symbol of Christianity, but apparently it was put up mainly to annoy the Muslims.  So it is an unchristian Christian symbol to say the least.  It’s possible to climb up there but we probably won’t.  David’s leg makes a great excuse, but I have no desire to visit it.

I should mention the cars too.  There are the usual brands (Toyota, Honda, Ford, and Hyundai) in the newer cars, but the majority are European brands (Peugeot, VW, Citroen).  Then there’s a large number of Zvastavas, Lados, Yugos, Dacias, and other brands I had never heard of.  The Dacias are still being made in Romania, as I see from the billboards advertising the new ones.  But the Yugos all look at least 20 years old and they keep chugging along.  It’s almost like Kabul—nothing can be let go to waste because there might not be a replacement for it.  There’s a repair shop in the basement of the apartment next to us.  Yesterday the mechanics were in deep consultations over a couple of bright yellow Minis that have been parked there all winter.  I think they are trying to make one running car out of the two.  We’ll see if one actually leaves the lot.  BTW these are Minis, not Mini-Coopers, although I think they are the same make because they look similar, but smaller, than the current Mini-Cooper.

The best part of it is that it’s now lovely to walk out of the house.  I’m making excuses to go to our nearby green market—it’s nice to have fresh fruit and veg, but it’s even nicer to get out into the sweet-smelling air.  I’m told we should stay here through the summer if we really want to see fruits and vegetables, but we’ll be shopping at the Alameda Farmers’ Market again by that time.

We got up in plenty of time to make a normal breakfast in the apartment we’d rented in Ohrid.  The landlord was coming at 10, and we were actually packed up and ready before then.  Just a short three-hour drive and we’d be home.  Sure.  Guess we failed to say “Enshallah”.  At any rate, we loaded the car (which by now was looking like a full gypsy caravan) and took off.

Unfortunately, the Navi (GPS) we bought doesn’t have city maps, so the first hint we had that we’d missed a turn was when the road straight ahead said Bitola rather than Kichevo.  Well, it doesn’t matter because that road also goes to Skopje, so instead of pastries in the mountains, we’d have a Thai lunch in Prilep.  We even thought that sounded like fun.  So up into the mountains covered with snow we went.  Some of it was incredibly beautiful–there were slopes covered with trees that must have been in a cloud when the temperature went below freezing.  The individual branches were all ice covered and from a distance the hill looked like a container of cotton balls.  At another point, we rode next to a waterfall that was frozen in midstream.  There was no water on the road–just runnels of ice ending in icicles.  It looked like a magic spell was cast on it turning the water into ice in a second.

Coming down the mountain, we passed Bitola without going into the city.  But somehow we’d gotten on the old road and not on the highway.  You have to understand that the main difference between the two roads, both of which are one lane each way with no breakdown lanes, is that the new one is maintained while the old is not.  We could see the highway next to us, but there was no connection.  Finally, there was an on-ramp, which we took, and the broad lane stretched before us.  We began saying things like “We’ll be in Prilep in good time for lunch.”  Not.  Suddenly there was a police car blocking the road and a smelly black smoke fire surrounded by men beyond the police.  David asked what was going on, but the policeman just told him to go back to Bitola. Well, there were a lot of cars stopped there, but no one was going anywhere.  We got the bright idea of going back to Bitola and getting on the old road past the blockage.

As it happened, David noticed a dirt track between the two roads about halfway back to Bitola, so we lumbered over that and on to the old road.  It was rough concrete at first but then for several miles it turned into very well maintained cobblestone.  At this point it was raised above the fields–and I’d be willing to guess that it was based on an old Roman road.  They were all through this part of the world.  After a while, I was looking at the map and noticed that the old road and the new merged before Prilep.  Yep, they merged just at the stoppage.  This time David found someone who spoke German who explained that it was a one-day strike so it was not possible to get through to Prilep on this road today.  But there was a second road that started near Bitola and angled crosscountry to Kichevo.  So we turned around on the old road and went back to the connecting track and back almost to Bitola.

Where the other road branched off there was a gas station and restaurant.  We’d thought of stopping for coffee, but I realized that I was hungry and who knew when we’d see another restaurant.  So we parked and went in.  Now this is in the middle of nowhere at the edge of a field at the edge of a road.  Imagine our surprise when we went inside and found stained glass skylights in the ceiling, and blue drapes with gold accents.  And an electric heater.  Heaven.  Oh, did I mention that the temps went up to 2C?  The car was warm, but nothing else was.  So we ordered kabob, which is hamburger actually, and french fried potatoes with cheese.  We got both toast and french fries with cheese and 5 kabobs each and some excellent coffee with milk.  We hadn’t realized that we were starving, but we were.  So David was talking to the owner, who said that the old road we were planning to take was blocked as well.  Oops.

So we went back over the snowy mountain passes to Bitola, to Resen, to Ohrid.  It was now about 2 p.m., getting dim, and we felt as if we’d been driving for ever. We very carefully got on the road to Kichevo.  We tried to set the Navi to get us on the right road, but it didn’t recognize any Macedonian city starting with K (Kichevo).  Or G (Gostivar) or T (Tetovo)  Those are the three major cities on this route.  But the road signs are better on this road and after Gostivar it becomes a four lane divided highway.  A toll road even–and I’ve never been more willing to pay a toll.

We got to the outskirts of Skopje and turned again to the Navi. We hoped that it could tell us where to get off the ring road where we had been deposited.  David recognized the first exit as the one where Heinz had taken us to lunch at a riding academy in the outskirts.  So we skipped that one.  The next three had red tape over the areas they led to, so we skipped them as well.  Then there was an exit that said Hotel Continental, which David recognized, so we got off there.  Lo and behold, while there was no Hotel Continental, we passed the car rental place.  So we turned around, got gas, and turned the car in.  The manager kindly called a taxi for us.  The taxi pulled up and there we were with two suitcases, two briefcases, a laundry bag, four plastic bags of dirty clothes, two plastic bags of stuff we’d bought (large bedsheets, an electric toothbrush, chocolates to bring to school to share, a shower cap containing a ceramic egg with a butterfly, etc., etc.)  And several pairs of shoes, plus cheese, cherry brandy, breakfast food, bread and ham and mustard and a small bottle of olive oil.  All piled around us.  We filled the trunk and 3/4 of the back seat (with me in the last corner) and headed for home.

The house wasn’t all that cold, and we actually unpacked and started a load of laundry–only two more to go.  But we were in bed by 9, and this morning David didn’t get up till 11.  We had driven 3110 km (2221 miles) and had many adventures, some of which have been recounted.  I’ll fill in the blanks over the Christmas holiday since everything is closed.  Oh, Christmas holidays?  Didn’t you know?  Christmas eve is January 6 and Christmas Day is January 7, both national holidays.  And so it goes.

Part of the grounds of the restaurant

After Dubrovnik, we were eager to get home but of course further adventures awaited us.  We entered Crna Gora (Montenegro) expecting to cross it very quickly because its seafront is not very long (as the crow flies).  Unfortunately, we’d forgotten our wings, so

And this is only part of the coast

we spent hours winding around incredibly beautiful bays with unbelievably blue water and lovely little houses on the land and large sailing yachts in the sea. It was interminable.  The Guide said there was a wonderful restaurant, The Old Mill, just 7 miles outside Kotor (where we’d decided to stop for lunch).  But we regretfully realized we really couldn’t make a 14 mile detour for food.  Then suddenly right in front of us–first a sign with the name and then the  driveway under an arch. so we drove down toward the Bay and there it was. Of course, since we didn’t have a reservation, the waiter said they were fully booked.  Then the owner come out as we were admiring the grounds and said there’d be a free table in 15 minutes.  And there was. It was a wonderful place, both the outside with paths and a millwheel and trout ponds and a view of the Bay, and the

David and the waterwheel at The Old Mill

cozy inside with fireplaces and wonderful food.  We also decided, since there was WiFi there, to make a booking at a hotel in Bar. By that time it was clear that we were not going to reach the Albanian border before dark so we’d have a night in Crna Gora.

On the Internet it looked easy.  And the hotel seemed attractive, so we made the booking.  And on we drove, finally arriving at Bar around 4. We would have been driving til midnight if we hadn’t ignored the Navi – which told us to go on around the winding bay, despite a big sign saying ‘Tunel to Bar’ which saved us hours of undoubtedly scenic driving. It was still light, but we couldn’t find the hotel on the waterfront.  Of course we hadn’t printed the information about where it was from the Internet–who carries a printer?  So we asked some people.  Everyone knew the hotel.  Major place, right on the water, huge sign, can’t miss it.  Just drive straight up this road, got through two tunnels and you’ll see the huge sign.  No sign on either side of the road.  Asked some people there.  Oh, it’s easy, you can’t miss it.  Just before the tunnel (because we were now on the up side) go up the hill and you’ll see the sign.  Up the hill, dirt road tilting toward the sea.  Found a casino and half a dozen apartment hotels, but not the hotel.  Back down to Bar.  More instructions.  They said go through the two tunnels and turn downhill toward the sea.  By now it was dark. We finally found a one-lane road going down, prominently marked by a sign saying ‘Do Not Enter’. We asked again, and were told -’Sure, go ahead, ignore the sign but watch for oncoming traffic.’ And as we crept down and down and down toward the sea, before us appeared a huge blue neon sign for our hotel – right across the bay.  So we drove around to it, found that the front desk had left for the

Next morning, the view from our balcony

New Year Holiday two days prior, and so we had dinner.  Afterward, the totally non-English-speaking manager of the restaurant got us into a (cooold) room and we zonked for the night. In the morning, we woke to a slightly warmed room and a magnificent view. We had a balcony right over the bay, with blue water, green hills, fishing boats and bustling markets in the villages. We had a lovely breakfast–huge omelets with ham and cheese–and when the front desk returned, we booked into, and out of, the hotel.  The Hotel manager spoke English and gave us directions to get to the Albanian border.  These were the one set of instructions that we got on this trip that were totally accurate and amazingly clear.  We might well have missed the turn to the border–our Navi hadn’t a clue as to where we were and while it had the name of a town, it had no indication that the town was where the border post was–if we hadn’t had the instructions.  So off we went in the morning ready for a new day. We actually might have found it without directions – it was the only pass in a long mountain range paralleling the sea. We’re sure it was the pass every immigrating/invading tribe took toward the seacoast.

So that day began with the crossing into Albania.  Lots of little villages.  Lots of fields of dirty plastic bags in between. Along with every other visitor, we gawked at concrete mushroom-shaped bunkers dotting every field and overlooking every road, especially near the border. We understand that the former dictator was convinced that the world would invade Albania (as refugees?) following World War III, and forced everyone to build bunkers. We decided that ElBasan, a university town, would be a good place to spend the night.  But the Guide mentioned that nearby in Llixha was a hot sulphur water river with a spa next to it.  Naturally, we were hooked and determined to try to get there. Have we mentioned that Albanian (like Hungarian) is a strange language with no cognates to anything else we can speak or read. Although given the name of the spa town, maybe it’s actually linked to Welsh.  Major City names on roadsigns are in Albanian and English, so, together with a map and the Navi, we were usually pretty sure we weren’t completely lost – but we spent part of the day navigating solely by compass readings. If the roads had been straight in any direction, it would have been easier.

After an hour or so in the capital, Tirana, we set out on the short route to ElBasan. Maybe that was a bad idea. The road was old (it would be generous to call it two-lane) and was short because it wound precipitously up the side of a mountain range, then plunged down the other side. The views were exhilarating, especially when the road followed the tip of a knife-edged ridge with views straight down both sides. Exhilaration, however, turns to sheer terror when an overloaded truck comes tearing around a corner on that same ridge. Eventually, we made it down to ElBasan. One problem – the little town with the spa, some 15 minutes from ElBasan, didn’t appear on any map or on the Navi. We are modern – so we cruised around until we found an Internet café. Elizabeth headed for the computer while I dashed off to find an ATM so we could get Albanian money. I came back to find the young man who ran the café hovering over Elizabeth trying (and failing) every bit of every language he knew to offer assistance. Google, however, said that the Spa had no website. Then the man called over another who was having coffee with friends.  He was a genius. He opened Google Translate, wrote “Çfarë ju nevojitet?” and pushed translate “What do you need?” came back.  So Elizabeth answered “Do you know how to get to Llixha where the Spa is?”in English, and hit English to Albanian. He lit up, and wrote a ‘wait a minute’ reply, then ran to get his friend. The four of us had a wild conversation – all trying for the same keyboard simultaneously, but it became clear that they knew where it was, but couldn’t describe the route, and Elizabeth wrote that if they took us there, we would drive them back. Delight! Off we went, through about eleven turns (He was right- he couldn’t have described it)and we found the Spa, at the Iliria Hotel, which did have a website, if we’d only known. Elizabeth checked that it was open for spa, meals and bed, and I drove the boys home while she checked in. When I dropped them off, I persuaded them to accept a small gift, then later realized that I had stiffed them on the use of the computer! I successfully navigated my way back just as night fell, and we asked for the spa. It turned out to be a series of rooms with two bathtubs each, into which they fed hot river water. It stank of sulfur, and they seriously warned that no one could soak for more than 10 minutes. We anticipated 10 minutes of blissful soaking, but the attendant popped in every two minutes, loudly instructing (?) us in Albanian holding up 10 fingers and shouting, so it was not relaxing – but the water was hot and felt good on sore driving muscles. Then a pleasant meal and collapsing into comfortable beds in a cold room.

In the morning, we set off for the border, but before we reached it, we were looking for a

Catch the brand on this gas station

gas station.  When we saw this sign, we decided to look a little farther.  So on we went, again encountering dozens of mushroomy bunkers, and finally passed into Macedonia – where the difficult signs somehow seemed friendly and welcoming (and readable!)  Our Cyrillic got better on our trip somehow.  We’d decided to spend one night in Ohrid, a city we’d visited a couple of times before.  As we found a place to park, a man with an apartment to rent approached us. We saw it and it looked very good–especially for only 30Euros.  He told us how to find a good local restaurant, and he was right–the food was delicious.  We’d never have found it by ourselves.  It was set a little back from the road and the only sign was on the side door.  But it served typical Macedonian food, delicious, filling and warm.  Good house wine too.  By the time we got the car unloaded it was beginning to get dark, but we decided to go to the old city anyway.  So we walked over there, went up one road, decided it was the wrong road, realized we were far to the right of where we wanted to be, started walking in the right direction and suddenly saw everything familiar.  That’s a good feeling coming off three weeks of being strangers everywhere.

I wanted to find the little corner shop that sold traditional clothing (not my interest) and bee products (yes!).  So we found it fairly easily and the English-speaking daughter of the owner was running it.  We remembered her because the last time she had been summoned to explain propolis and royal jelly with bee pollen to us. David looked around and realized that every item in the store was too small.  And we’d been talking about this shirt that he bought last time, but you had a larger one, the young woman finally recognized us.  Then she said that her mother had opened a larger store right on the main street. (We’d actually seen it, but we were looking for the place we knew.)  So we went down there and as we walked in the door the owner burst into smiles and greeted us like long-lost friends.  So David wanted a felt vest.  They were too small (he wasn’t happy).  They were black (I wasn’t happy).  There’d been a vest on the mannequin outside, so I asked if he could try

1920 Macedonian Freedom Fighter uniform

that one.  It fit (sort of–when we got home I had to rearrange the hooks and eyes a little), it was brown, and what more could you want. So David bought that.  Meanwhile, I was looking at the bee products and found the royal jelly I was looking for.  But I was feeling like penny pinching, I guess, because we got the small size.  Now I realize that was a mistake as we’re half through it in two weeks.  And it does seem to help with colds somewhat.  But the really funny part was that as soon as we’d collected what we were buying and paid for it, the lagniappe began to appear.  For David, (who had apparently bought the vest that was the uniform of the 1920 freedom fighters trying to break away from the Ottoman Empire), a pillbox hat to complete the outfit.  I’ll try to get a photo, but if you remember the little guy in the LSMFT Lucky Strike ads, that’s what the hat looks like, even to the chin strap. Okay, here’s the photo, so you know I exaggerate.  Then came the bee products–lip balm, face cream, propolis.  By the way, the face cream is amazing because it’s antiseptic.  Too waxy to use as a normal cream, but excellent on itchy spots or rough skin. So we were loaded down when we left there.

Then we kept walking up the street and David suddenly recognized a small bookstore as the one where he’d bought the relief map of Macedonia we had in our living room in Alameda.  Now you have to realize that when we showed it to people at UACS last time, no one had ever seen such a thing.  So I figured we had a unique item.  But David said it wouldn’t hurt to ask, so he did.  What size?  said the woman behind the counter. So we have another copy of the map on our wall here so we can figure out where we’re going or where we’ve been.  I guess there’s only one place in the world where these maps are sold.  And it may well be, only one customer in the world who has ever bought one.

And so back to the apartment, which had warmed up a bit, and to sleep.

The Adriatic was a rich blue

feelings. The road was tree-lined and lovely, winding along the coast with incredible blue seascapes below us. The first surprise was encountering what we first took to be a toll station, but turned out to be a national border. Since both Split and Dubrovnik are in Croatia, we thought we had taken a wrong turn someplace. No, it seems that ‘BiHa’ (Bosnia and Herzegovina, in the border guard’s parlance) dips down to the sea for a few miles to get port access, and then Croatia resumes. Sure enough, about three miles later on the same road we re-entered Croatia, and the signs pointed to Dubrovnik.
When we entered the town, we realized we were descending into a narrowing valley, with cliffs rising on either side and the very ordinary city getting squeezed closer and closer. As

The Pilay Gate is almost at ground level

we went down, we made a turn and suddenly the old city appeared – a walled port city filling the gap at the sea of a really very narrow valley, with about 30-meter high walls rising up to a point about forty meters below us! Obviously, when they built this, they were concerned about threats only from the sea. From where we were, we (or an invading army) could have dropped rocks inside the walls. We continued down, noticing the only road had become one-way (down), took a sharp turn, and found the walls now looming above us with the ancient moat now serving as a cramped and crammed parking lot. We had gotten the name of a travel agency which was the best source of ‘Apartman’ (private homes offering rooms) and followed the Navi around the walls to the open square serving as the bus station,

Statue at the top of the Pile (Pilay) Gate

where the agency was. Elizabeth got out while I parked on the sidewalk, and eventually returned to report that today was St. Sylvester’s Day – so of course the agency was closed. Why hadn’t we thought of that! (Saint who?) We were advised to just park and wander through the old city looking for ‘Apartman’ signs, and knock and ask. Easier said than done. The first available parking spot was up, up, up, a narrow street clinging to the cliff. Then we paid for 2 hours parking, and climbed down stairways back to the bus square. On this side of the old city, the moat was an attractive park, spanned by a drawbridge. We crossed, and climbed down a flight of stairs to the main square, with two churches, a huge fountain, and the entrance to the only real street – beautifully decorated for the holidays with its marble cobblestones gleaming.
We wandered down a few alleys, and asked at the first open store, and were directed up another few alleys, where we knocked at the first door we saw saying ‘Apartman’. After a long silence, a window was thrown open, to the cry of ‘wait’ and an attractive young couple came down and said that yes, they had an available room. The kitchenette was on the ground floor. Up two stories were the bedroom & bath, and above them were the family quarters – all beautifully tucked into a tiny slot of a house up against an ancient wall. Delightful, and inexpensive. Perfect, until we asked where we could keep the car. Their faces fell, and they concluded that our only hope was to find a space in the old moat, but it was difficult. Back we rushed to the car (our time was just up) and back to the single one-way road, this time winding up the other side of the valley. Once we reached the top, we turned back to the down road, and crept down to the moat, which was full. So around the city walls, up the up road, and down again to a parking lot we had seen near the bus square. They had space, but it was short-term parking, and parking the car would have cost us more than twice the cost of our room. So up the up road, and down the down road, and tried the moat again – still full. Around the city, up the up road, and at the top there was a city parking lot which was affordable and had spaces. Gratefully, we parked, and

Old fountain outside a church

unpacked. Two rolling suitcases, two briefcases, and six small bags, so we headed for the elevator – which only went up! We asked how we got down to the old city, and were directed to a precipitous staircase. Not optimal with wheeled suitcases. So we walked four km. down the down road and entered at the moat parking lot, across the city from our apartment. It had by this time gotten dark. Oops! Turns out that the entrance we came in was about ten stories above the main street, with streets connected only by crumbling medieval steps. We finally found some we could negotiate, climbed down, noting in passing incredible buildings, great smelling restaurants, and what were probably great views – but all we knew was weariness. We then climbed the few levels up on the other side, and found our apartment, where our hostess had decided we had gone somewhere else, and so was delighted to see us again. It had taken four hours from the time we took the place to the time we reached it with luggage. We collapsed.
Suddenly David remembered that ‘St. Sylvester’s Day’ was New Year’s Eve. I’d not made any such connection, but I knew that we’d planned to spend New Year’s Eve in Dubrovnik to join the celebrations. And I was not going to go to sleep. David took a short nap, but hunger finally woke him. We got recommendations for a couple of good restaurants from our hosts and set off (minus luggage) to check them out. The first was down at the Old

The Old Port is just outside the walls

Port, but it was closed.  Well, half the restaurants in town were closed; the other half were putting on $100/head fixed menu all-night New Year’s Parties, and would have at best squeezed us in somewhere in the back. We walked, and walked – in the meantime stopping for the end of a Catholic New Year’s Eve Mass in a beautiful Cathedral, admiring numerous buildings, and checking out every menu. All were too heavy (and too alcoholic – for our tastes. Finally, just down the alley from our lodgings on the main street, we found a Bistro unlisted in any of our guides with wonderful smells and a live pianist playing old American Jazz and Blues, which was right up our alley. They also had a menu, but were glad to serve us a la carte, and the food and wine were wonderful, as was the music. We slowly relaxed, letting the day’s tensions fade away, and became aware of a growing volume of activity outside.

At 11, the street was half empty.

It was now about 11:00pm and about five degrees below freezing. We came out to find the entire length of the main street filling with people, vendors selling beer & sausages and drinks (hot spiced wine, mostly), from the main square down to the Cathedral Square at the opposite end of the city (by the sea) with a dozen very large TV screens showing a stage being set up. If you look closely, you can see 2011 just to the left of the church tower.  The stage was set up in the square in front of the church.  We wandered down, but not too close, because the lead group was an excessively loud, raucous pop group, and the volume was physically painful. But we were promised classical music starting at midnight, and we stayed in the thickening crowd, until it seemed that every space – every cobblestone- in the whole length of the street was occupied. The girls were wearing too little clothing (how you combine miniskirts and plunging necklines with -5 ° weather I will never know, but it was decorative). The old men were drinking too

Behind us the street was alight with handheld fireworks

much, the young men were trying to impress the girls with fireworks (yes, cherry bombs and sparklers in the middle of the jam-packed crowd) and the music was overwhelming, but suddenly we were all counting

And finally at 12 the official fireworks started

down to midnight, and the official fireworks started. Then the classical concert began – which meant old Croatian traditional songs. The singers were old men, wearing traditional peasant garb, but literally everyone in the crowd sang along – including us. We didn’t know the words, but we could follow the tune, and song after song filled the city (and that is not an exaggeration – we could hear the echoes from the walls on either side). About 1:00am, 2011, Elizabeth and I staggered off to bed, but there were still celebrations (petering out) when we woke the next morning. P1040798

The bed was comfortable, the apartment was great, and our hostess greeted us the next morning with a traditional Croatian New Year’s cake up in her apartment, and gave us a broad insight into what the breakup of Yugoslavia had meant for her.
It was fascinating, but we finally tore ourselves away. We were a little more clever this time – we took the luggage out the main entrance to the bus square, and I left Elizabeth with it while I climbed, and climbed, and found myself lost, and turned and climbed some more until I reached the parking lot. Then I found I didn’t have enough Croatian money, but the attendant changed some Euros for me, and released me – to creep down the down road and around the city wall to pick up Elizabeth, climb the up road, and set off for the famous Bay of Kotor, said to be the most beautiful spot on the coast. Dubrovnik was not an unalloyed joy, but it was lovely, exciting, pleasant, and it will be a lot easier when we go there again.

One of the gates of the city

It wasn’t a long trip down to Split, but by the time we arrived, we were very hungry.  We parked on the street where other cars were parked and went inside the walls.  We asked at the Tourist Office for a restaurant and a room.  Well, they didn’t do rooms, so they told us to go to an agency. But the agency was closed.  So we went back and the tourist agency person said, “Of course they’re closed–everyone knows it’s St. Sylvester’s Day.”  Who knew.  But when we asked for a restaurant, we were given a name and directions.  As

Part of the Palace

we were looking for it, we saw a lot of Diocletian’s palace.  More than we wanted to, actually.
Because the palace has its own logic and some of its walls still exist and it is on several levels, it is impossible to walk in a straight line.  In a small park we saw this magnificent statue of Bishop Gregor of Nin who fought the Church hierarchy (mostly Italian) to

Bishop Gregor Ninski

allow the Bible to be translated into Croatian.  He’s a great hero in the area, and rubbing his toe (the bright brass one) is said to bring good luck. Not to us.  We climbed stairs both up and down but weren’t finding the restaurant. We got ourselves into the palace basement, which is now a shopping mall with a single entrance.  We turned around and went back to the square where we started.

Finally, we saw a boutique hotel in a corner of a small courtyard and asked directions.  The man there said dubiously that where we were going was actually less than a restaurant, but we wanted to see it.  So we walked some more and found he was right: it was a small bar absolutely full of smoke.  Back to the hotel to ask for a better suggestion.  The man gave us the name of a restaurant on the seaside just outside the walls
that sounded great.  Then he gave us directions that led to a blocked gate. David, with his excellent sense of direction, figured out how to get around that portal, and hoouuurrrrs after we arrived, we finally had an excellent lunch.

It was getting dark, and we still had no place to sleep. The ever-helpful tourist agent had said we just had to look for signs on houses that advertised rooms and then ask.  Didn’t see any. Finally, I just asked a man who was going into his house if he knew of any rooms. He called to someone else across the street and soon we were following that man through the

Wide street on the way to the room

gate and into the medieval city outside the walls. Through narrow streets, then through alleys with lines of washing over our heads, then finally to a little door at the end of one of the alleys.  Well, it was a room.  Actually, it was an apartment, sort of.  The door opened on a kitchen with a table, next was a bedroom and after that another bedroom.  Each had a single bed and no room for anything else.  The bathroom(s) were outside the kitchen in a sort of alley that was sort of roofed.  The shower to the right and the toilet to the left–

Entering where we stayed

unheated. 30Euros/night for both bedrooms. David and our landlord went to get the car and move it closer to where we were staying.

I stayed in the freezing house waiting for the single portable electric radiator to make a difference.  And waited.  And waited.

David’s story:   We got back to where I had parked the car, and the car was gone. We checked at nearby stalls (The same ones where we had asked if it was OK to park there) and finally found someone who thought the car had not been stolen, but towed by the police. Apparently, everyone knows that the sign that shows a woman holding a child’s hand means that beyond the sign is a walking area only.  And everyone knows that there is no parking within 200 meters of a walking area.  So off we went (I & the landlord) to find a taxi who knew where the impound yard was. It is well outside the city, and the landlord was amazed that I paid as much for the taxi as for the room. We found the yard, and the car was there. The bored guard listed fees – 60 Euro towing fee, 30 Euro illegal parking fee, 30 Euro parking in a restricted area fee, and something else. I talked, he talked, he called his boss, more talking, and I finally got it reduced to the towing fee alone, and they released the car to me.

Then I found out that the landlord, who didn’t own a car, had never been outside the city and didn’t know where we were. We went back and got directions in English and in Croatian -but they were different. I finally decided to trust my sense of direction and highway signs and headed back. You should have seen the look on the landlord’s face when he finally recognized something. He then took me up one alley and down another searching for a safe free parking space. I finally ignored him and put the car into a paid lot, after assuring him I would move the car after 9:00pm when there would be available free parking. (I finally realized that he defined safe free parking as any street/alley too narrow for the police tow truck to get into.) Then we walked and walked again until we reached the house, where Elizabeth had not quite resigned herself to abandonment.

I was so fired up from tension that we went for a walk, saw a classical concert but found it was sold out, saw some more bits of old buildings, then returned and surrendered to sleep. Split could have been an interesting city to visit, but auto impound lots in the suburbs are not on my favorites list. So you will understand when I say that Split didn’t make it for us.

Still, before we left the city, we walked around a bit in the bright (warm) sun the next day and got something of a feeling of what it might be like in a better season.  As we said many times on this trip, “It would be better in summer.”

Detail of the Palace

Lunch

We figured a famous coast out of season would have lots of rooms available wherever we ended up.  Well, it wasn’t as easy as we thought it would be.  Our Navi (GPS) kept directing us to the nearest highway which is up in the mountains and mainly out of sight of the coast.  Fortunately, just when we were beginning to feel frustrated, the road ended.  Literally, there was a curious sign–a car with a red diagonal line through it.  As we were discussing what “no cars” on a major highway might mean, we were given a choice of going back or going down toward the coast.  And the huge trucks straight in front of us enforced the decision.  So of course we went down toward the coast and found the road we’d wanted from the beginning.  And of course we stopped for lunch–David had homemade mushroom soup in a bread bowl.

Miles of blue sea and dun islands

The coast road was a lot smaller than the highway, but was seldom out of sight of the sea and went through little towns with lots of large hotels.  After about half an hour, it was just us and the bluest sea I have ever seen.  It was almost as intense as the Bandi-Amir lakes in Afghanistan.  And very calm with long, large, empty islands offshore.  The soil here is dolomite, a high calcium aggregate.  From a distance it looks like sandstone, but when you come close, you see that it is much chunkier.  And a lovely yellow color with frequent washes of red.  Okay, but we got quite intimate with it driving on a winding two-lane road between the cliff and the sea below.

There were a few other interesting sights–an arch with no purpose just in the middle of nowhere for instance.

Arch

Dad had read about some amazing lakes but thought they were far inland.  Then I was reading our borrowed Lonely Planet Guide about Zadar, our next major destination, and the lakes were listed as being nearby.  But this is us, so we decided to go up the road from Senj instead–it was right in front of us and also reached the lakes.  Then we could come down, we figured, on the other road right into Zadar.  So we took the coast road, where we saw this sign, right into Senj.  It was a portent.

No guardrails here!

It was beginning to get dark and very cold,

Windy, freezing sunset in Senj

but we figured we’d find a place to sleep in a village on the road to the lakes.  Well, small road, no villages, darker and darker, ice on the side of the road, winding, dark and darker.  Finally we saw a sign that said restaurant and rooms so we turned back and up a long winding driveway.  Got to the place, no one there but one man.  We asked about rooms, he asked his mother:  No rooms tonight, came the reply.  Well, at least they had a bathroom.  Where are rooms, David asked.  Only six kilometers, turn right at the bottom of the hill.  Oh, back in Senj then.  The road seemed worse going down, but finally we arrived in Senj and saw a tourist agency sign.  The place was closed, but the small cafe next door was welcoming and called a woman with rooms to rent.  Danielle came and took us to see the room which turned out to be an apartment.  We had living-dining-kitchen room and a bedroom and bath.  For 30 dollars.  We collapsed into bed after almost freezing in our efforts to stay up past 7.  Well, when it gets dark at 3:30, seven seems very late.  Somehow the lack of heat didn’t matter–we slept like rocks.

In the morning the place was much warmer (it takes a while to heat up and I’m sure it would have been ready for us if we’d made a reservation ahead of time (the downside of flexibility), but we had breakfast and (after another cup of the excellent “white coffee” from the cafe), were on our way.  BTW, we have discovered how to get the latte, galao, milky coffee that we like.  Here it’s called belo cava or biela cava and it means white coffee.  It’s more milk than coffee, but the coffee is a strong espresso, so you get all the flavor with no danger of stomach ulcers.  And of course the milk is heated, so the coffee is hot.

Of course being us again, we had to investigate the tower on the hill overlooking Senj.  We couldn’t get inside, but it was interesting to see it.

View from the tower hill

The whole thing was built of dolomite blocks in a very simple design.   But it had raised towers on all four corners and certainly was a good watchtower.  Today, with no enemies to look for,  the view down was magnificent.

We’re not making very rapid progress at this stage–we probably are covering about 300 km a day.  So we rode along the coast, stopping to take photos at every new vista (red spots in a field photos we call them–that means pictures that can’t begin to show what the scenery was really like).  But we’d heard about the flooding from the rains in Europe and then we saw the fields.

Flooded Fields

Then we realized that we could take a ferry to Pag Island and have some straight roads for a while.  There’s a bridge at the other end and a road directly into Zadar.  The ride was freezing, but being out among the islands, we realized that many of them had little inset valleys on the south side where villages clung between green hills and the shore.  They only looked totally deserted from the shore because the valleys are tucked below the dry mountains that face the land.  Amazing place!

We drove into Zadar.  We wanted to find the Old City–a former Venetian fortress on the sea.  And it wasn’t difficult–there was suddenly before us a parking lot and a wall with an arched entrance in it.  Well, we parked the car and headed in on foot to find the tourist office the Navi had located for us.  It was around the corner from the square it was supposed to be on–and the agent there was cheerful and incredibly helpful once she realized that we didn’t want to be guided to an expensive hotel, but wanted to stay in a private home.  She suggested that Gianni had a nice apartment and might have a parking place for our car.  What an understatement!  Gianni has a fabulous apartment right on the south end of the Old City within hearing of the Sea Organ.  It has one large room with a table and beds and a small kitchen and large bathroom off it.  It’s all paneled in knotty pine, with a photo-map of the Old city on the wall so we can check out where we’re going.  Mirrors, plenty of closet space, steel roll-down shutters on the windows, and it’s warm and the water is hot.  Oh, and there are 10 kinds of tea in the cabinet, milk, juice, etc., etc.  We didn’t really have to go shopping at all before we arrived.  We settled in after sharing a sip of rakia with Gianni to seal the deal.  Oh, David asked, is there somewhere we could wash our clothes near here?  No problem, said Gianni, my woman will do it.  So we gave him our dirty clothes bag and headed out to dinner.

Oh, yes, more luck.  The Guide that we’d borrowed from friends in Skopje listed one excellent restaurant in Zadar.  And David noticed a place as we were driving in and he read the name.  I recognized it from the book.  So we walked up there hoping to get in without a reservation.  Well, it was pitch dark, but it wasn’t yet 5 p.m.  The place was totally empty–dinner is around 8.  So we were seated and an English-speaking waiter devoted himself complete to our comfort.  David asked him for a wine recommendation and we ended up with a local Merlot that was totally black with only a hint of red around the edges.  Delicious.  Then he brought us a small gift

Amuse Bouche

–a white plate with a dome of tuna pate and coming from it a swirled  V of sauce decorated with tiny orange and green dots.  And besides looking elegant, it was delicious.  The dots? tiny bits of squash and carrots.

David had lentil soup (rich with mushroom puree and bits of smoked ham) and I had a simple salad,(a bowl with stripes of tomato, beet, red and green cabbage, and lettuce alternating around it.)  Then I had tuna on a bed of squash and arugula with a truffle cream sauce and Dad had a risotto with shrimps and mushrooms.  Both perfect.  And then dessert–a delicate pana cotta pudding with berry sauce and a fudge chocolate cake (we shared two desserts–and they split them for us and put a swirl of whipped cream between) and coffee of course.  Everything was beautiful to look at and tasted wonderful.  Oh, and dinner for two with a bottle of wine and one of sparkling water:  $70 including the tip.

So we walked home via the Sea Organ and the Sun Salutation.  These are two works of art on the end of the island.  There used to be a wall around the old city, but when they took it down, they replaced it with nothing.  The Sea Organ is a series of organ pipes that the sea plays as it P1040726 moves in and out. If you click on the link, you may hear it.  The melody is never the same, but always pleasing.  All you can see from the top is a series of

That's the sea to the left

holes but as you walk by, the sound is amazingly loud.  And this is at the very edge of the water–no fence.  You could step right into the Adriatic, but we decided to wait for a summer visit to try the swimming.  Then at the tip of the island there is a huge circle that is made up of solar panels under glass. It picks up the sun all day and then at night gives off a continuously changing pattern of waves of colors.  There was a little girl dancing on it when we came up–it was the right reaction to the colors with the music in the

Sun Salutation

background.  The still photo doesn’t really show it–at this moment it was blue, but it changed to red and then yellow, then green and blue.  It’s always moving.  I hope you can see and hear the video.  This place is just amazing.

See, what they did in the 1930s was take down most of the wall around the island and turn the space into a narrow road for cars and a wider park for walkers.  There’s no fence or wall–you could step off into the Adriatic at any point along the shore.  And both the Sea Organ and the Sun Salutation are in the park at one corner of the city.  Then the center is an absolute mass of medieval to early modern buildings, churches, banks, houses, with broad marble walking streets between them.  This is a tourist destination now, so many of the houses have stores on the ground floor.  And the place is full of people walking around.  We have two nights here, to give us time to explore and to visit the three museums that have interesting-=sounding exhibits.  And to go back to the Sea Organ in daylight.  Oh yes, when we got back to the apartment, our laundry was hanging on the line outside our window.

And in fact we did see a lot of Zadar, but we could have stayed another few days.  The apartment was comfortable and the restaurants excellent.  Here are some more photos of the city.

Romanesque Franciscan Church

This church was right around the corner from us.  We were walking by on the way to the Sea Organ when we saw some tourists with a local man who was unlocking the door.  So we joined the group of Italians and got our own private tour.  It’s all scallops inside.  They must once have been chapels, but it’s just white now.  Then there’s an inside ring of columns and a wooden dome in the center.

And there was another church that we passed all the time.  It had a wonderful cloister with a well in the middle.  And here are some photos of their creche.

The centerpiece

One of many small scenes around the center

I should say that Zadar was a Roman city at one point before it became Venetian.  So it has all the stuff provincial Roman cities have–a forum, mosaics, etc.  And then the later people built stuff out of Roman stones (delapidating the Roman buildings) so in places there are interesting steps and walls made out of parts of Roman buildings.  The Herms of course stood at the doors of Roman houses, but now they are just in the grass beside the sidewalk.

He was supposed to welcome you to the house

Then we went to the archaeological museum and saw these: they certainly look like safety pins to me.  Some 19th century American got the patent for the safety pin and here these are, decorated with amber beads, with the curled wire and all.  And they are from before the time of Christ.  There’s nothing new under the sun.

And in the evening (that is after 4 p.m. when the sun set) we walked around the town.  Yes, it was freezing cold, but it was so interesting to see how things had been set up to make you feel you were in an ancient city.  For instance, this is how the forum looked at night:

The Forum at Night

Main Altar

This is the main altar.  The spots of light are candelabra with (now) compact fluorescents, but from the way they are made, it’s obvious that they originally held candles.  Off to the side, where I didn’t take a photo there are globes of the kind that used to hold gas fixtures.  This place has been using the most modern appliances for longer than I can imagine.

The cathedral door is richly designed and you can see where people grasped a protruding bump to open it over the ages.

Huge and bronze Cathedral door

Cathedral Ceiling

As you can see, the ceiling is a riot of images, all very lifelike.  The angels look three dimensional as if they’re going to fly around the church.

Creche

And the creche extended around the room to include not only the nativity scene but also all sorts of pictures of daily life.  There was even a waterfall off to one side with swans in a pond.

But now we come to the absolutely mind-blowing part of the cathedral.

Check the dates

So here we have Blessed Castus who became bishop in 349.  He died in 368.  His statue was carved in 1712, and the plaque was added in 1911.  I am boggled.  You know in the U.S. 100 years is a long time and 100 miles is nothing.  Well, this is a real stretch.  And then there’s Gennardius.  He became bishop in 485 and died in 503.  Just looking at the Roman numerals DIII is amazing to me.  Anyway, both of the statues are obviously 18th century.  David says they are dancing.  The have the graceful shapes of all the statues of that era. For example: Well, my photo has a head, but you can see his bent knee so you know what I mean, right?

Castus Dancing

Outside the door there was a statue of St. Thomas Aquinas that was positively medieval–it must have been older than this church.  So that’s St. Nicholas Cathedral and it really has to be seen to be believed.  There were many more bishops and graves in the floor dating from before 1000 A.D.  And the pews are made so that you can’t kneel up.  You have to have your bottom resting on the seat.  And the choir was awful–we were better singing at the Franciscan church on Christmas Eve.  So after Mass we went to the Castle.

Medieval Street at the Funicular

We were told that the best way to get to the Grad was to take the funicular, so we walked over to the start.  It’s next to this street that is a curve lined with houses that have been there since the 14th century.  I guess they’re improved inside, but they still look very authentic from the outside.

WWII Bomb Shelter

And set into a wall there was a World War II bomb shelter.  History continues to be made.

We bought tickets for the round trip and for the tower (since the ticket seller told us that we shouldn’t miss it).  By the way, this was on December 25th and the whole world was pretty quiet so the ticket seller stopped to talk with us for a while.  We got into the glass cabin and watched Ljubljana slip away below us.

View from the Funicular going up.

When we got to the top, there was a choice of an elevator or stairs, so of course we took the winding circular stairway.  The first good part was seeing the Grad itself.  The former Duke’s palace has been turned into an elegant coffee shop.  I’d guess the glass is an addition, though.

This used to be the Duke's Palace

Looking from the battlements

When we went out on the battlements, we could see the whole of the Old Town just like a perfect little model below us.

Then we went into the tower.  On ground level there is a wonderful show of the history of the city from Illyrians through Greeks and Romans, to the 19th century.  It was made up of photos of places and cartoons of people–very well done.

We passed the level of the bells.

Then up the stairs–a narrow double-twined circular staircase up and down.  We stopped to look out at each level–oh yes, I noticed (because we felt very uneven as we climbed) that at every 7th step there was a double wide with a window or landing.  After I got that, climbing was much easier.  Finally we reached to top–an open level with the sun shining valiantly through the clouds and the wind blowing enough to chill the bones.  The courtyard of the castle was spread out below us.

Still patches of snow

We looked for our hotel, but it was hidden behind some taller buildings.

The city with the Ljubljanitsa River

It soon got too cold to stay out there so we climbed down the other side of the spiral.  We wanted to see a couple of art exhibits that were listed on the signs and to go to the Castle Store, but we realized that we were actually too hungry to do those things.   So we headed for the restaurant. (We’d stopped for coffee in the restaurant, not realizing there was a coffee shop, and it looked okay.) We didn’t have a reservation, but it was too early for dinner and too late for lunch, so they fitted us in.  The place is gorgeous–stone walls with a wooden ceiling and floor.  Huge globes for lighting.  And

Cozy and crowded with families

toasty warm.  What a dinner it was.  Appetizers provided: whole wheat bread and liver pate and a bowl of meat and crackling.  Then, David had  salami with fresh ground horseradish followed by bean soup with vegetables and barbeque pork. I had  chicken soup (lots of chicken) plus pumpkin croquettes served with smoked cheese.  And a wonderful dark red house wine.  We discussed dessert but not for long.

Then we went off to the Castle Shop, where they had all sorts of handmade local items.  We drooled over a portable creche, but didn’t buy it @$135.

All the figures are flat

All the figures are slipped into slots when the box is open. Then you unship them and close the box and off you go.  Very clever idea, and the figures are wonderfully detailed.  But I’d rather not travel over Christmas again.  We did buy a dragon and a painted beehive door and some postcards, but tried to restrain ourselves.

Then we headed for the Castle Chapel, a small tower at one corner of the courtyard.  I guess it’s dedicated to St George because there he was. Thought it was weird that he was killing a dragon, but maybe they come in good and bad varieties.  Here’s what the label at the door said:

Chapel Info

Killing a dragon????

Everything's artistic here

And then there were the pews.  Hand carved out of walnut.  Shaped.

So then we went to see the galleries where things were designated as art rather than just being so.  The first place we went to (photo lost) was a glass exhibit by Tanya Pak.  It was a dim room with New Age music playing as a huge number of glass boat shapes hanging from invisible threads swayed gently in the breeze.  Very relaxing, though they didn’t provide any chairs and the marble floor was very cold.

Then to a small room that held an almost life-size creche. (There is an exhibit of creches all over the city this Christmas.  We’ve seen them in clay, wood, painting, glass, etc.)

Part of a city-wide exhibit

And then, finally, the most fantastic use of glass I’ve ever seen anywhere.  It’s 20 feet high.  Here’s a bunch of photos and I’ll try to put in a .mov file (QuickTime or it plays in Windows 7) so you can hear the music as well.  But you’ll have to turn your computer on its side because I don’t know how to change the direction of movies.

Rain looking up

Closeup of glass

At ground level

Looking into the rain

Of course the circles are where the raindrops hit the surface of the water.  But you figured that out.

And here’s the Quicktime link to the movie:  WaterSculpture

And I got a program, Hamster, that changes .mov to .avi, so here’s the .avi link: WaterSculpture

We set out from Heriz and had a reservation at the Park Hotel, right in the middle of the Old City, clustered along both sides of the Ljubljanitsa River.  The trip was fascinating – back roads of course so we went through many villages.

The Plains of Hungary stretch flat beside us for miles.

Look carefully: the figures are hand sewn.

Sometimes these plains were green with some sort of low crop growing on them, but many were all snow covered like this.

The figures are made of stiffened cloth with the features embroidered on them.  It’s a work of art in the town square of a village whose name totally escapes me.

The truck with live fish in tanks

In another  town square, a truck loaded with water-filled tanks, was surrounded by a crowd of people.  They were selecting dinner from the fish on offer–still alive–how fresh can you get!

Farmhouse catches the last rays--at 3:45 p.m.

And as we neared the city, the sun did its early setting trick.  It was December 23, so days should have been getting longer, but the mountains intervened.

In Ljubljana

We finally arrived about sunset and settled into the convenient and comfortable Park Hotel.  Then we went walking along the river.  Here are a bunch of photos of the city lighted up for the season, and of the Christmas Fair.  The fair actually went on for blocks on both sides of the river as well as on a number of other squares and streets.  You’ll just have to imaging the lights, the crowds, the music–the whole Christmas atmosphere.

Lights were set on invisible wires so they appeared to float free across the streets.

Did you ever see such large jars of Nutella?

So we wandered lighted streets and listened to music in the air.

The main square had more lights than anywhere else

Old Town, Dragon Bridge, The Castle (Grad)

So finally it was the next day (Christmas Eve) so we walked some more and looked for a midnight Mass.  On the right is the layout of the town–present city is on both sides of the river, but over all broods the fortress Castle where the Duke lived in earlier times.  We decided to see the Castle on Christmas Day (there being no blockbuster movies playing in the area.

The River and the Dragon Bridge

The Dragon of Ljubljana

The bridge has four  of these dragons guarding it.

So eventually it got dark again, and we went to the Franciscan Church to see their creche, reputed to be the best in the city.  It was enormous extending around the corner from the

only the central part of an entire village

central scene to show village life.  As we were studying it, we noticed people beginning to take seats, so we figured an early Midnight tonight.  And it was. The Mass started at 9.  No choir, but an  older Franciscan took to the pulpit.  A sound of gears and a screen rose in front of the side altar.  And then the words to Silent Night in Croatian appeared.  Our leader beat time, and with the words before us, it was easy to join in.  It was a totally sung Mass, but at least Amen and Alleluia are the same.  We sang four hymns, mostly the choruses because they were not familiar.  All in all it was a warm and friendly place for Midnight Mass, so we were happy to have stumbled upon it.

Here are a few more highlights of Ljubljana, where the temperatures hovered between highs of 2C and lows of -4C.

In Summer the fountain is revealed

This couple seemed totally unaware of the temperaturearound them.  Brrrr…

Much graffiti on walls.  For some reason, Ron was a frequent decoration.

Next day we went to the Grad and toured the Cathedral, but that will have to wait for now.