Dublin, Ireland

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Cesky Krumlov

It is rare to visit a place that exceeds the high expectations surrounding it, but Cesky Krumlov managed to do just that. At a time when I’d grown tired of quaint Central European towns with their winding rivers and highly-perched castles, Cesky Krumlov was a breath of fresh air, even in spite of its river, castle and general quaintness. The simple, natural beauty of this region – the gold-tinted foliage, rolling hills and the untouched, frozen-in-time buildings – are made to be printed on a postcard.



The castle was the biggest surprise. Unlike its more staid and stately cousins in Karlstein and Konopiste, the wild colors of Krumlov Castle give it a real uniqueness.



Our hostel also added to the captivating coziness of the town. With the barely-above-freezing temperatures and a nasty bone-chilling rain outside, our comfy spot at the Dilettante’s Hangout couldn’t have been more welcoming. We were treated to a warm, roaring fire not only in the “lobby” of this house-cum-hotel, but also our own personal fireplace in our private room, the Buddha Suite.







The second day was kinder to us. Apart from some threatening clouds, we had glimpses of sun and even a little warmth. We visited the sister museums – of Torture, then of Wax – for a fun change of pace. The Torture Museum was legitimately creepy and was even housed in what could have been an old dungeon (or a wine cellar.) The lighting was dark and some really macabre displays and photos were showcased. Added to the atmospheric music and occasional shrieks of a special effects CD, it was great spooky fun. The Wax Museum had its share of spookiness too, mostly from the “Woman in White” display. The woman figure disappears mysteriously and is replaced by a white owl over and over on a loop. It was all tricks of the light for sure, but nevertheless impressive. The other figures on display were, for the most part, less scary and ranged from 18th century royalty to modern-day personages like Vaclav Havel and Bill Clinton.



We spent the rest of our time exploring the castle grounds (it was too cost-prohibitive to visit the interior) and taking in some of the beautiful scenery. There was a bear moat that people were crowding around, eager for a look at the two bears that live there.






The tower was open so we shelled out a few crowns to climb to the top and were treated to some gorgeous views, at least once the annoying tour guide and his 35 tourists moved out of the way of the one and only door to the top.





By the time we had to catch our bus, the bad weather was returning as we were on our way back to gloomy Prague.

Balkans Tour - Split

After our melancholic trip through Bosnia, with its war scars visible for all to see, it was nice to return to sun-drenched, beach-filled Croatia, which has shrugged off any remaining signs of the Balkan conflict.

Split was wonderfully warm at 9pm as our bus pulled in to the lovely harbor-side station. We were again accosted by little old ladies offering us rooms, but pushed them aside as we sweated through the twisty streets in search of our final hostel. When we found it, we were greeted by a super-enthusiastic host who had more energy than anyone should on such a balmy, humid night. Our room thankfully had A/C but instead of a wall unit, there were these giant tubes that had to stick out of the open windows. Miraculously, it still managed to cool down the place.

We got up, picked up some breakfast at the local fruit market and headed to the center. The highlight here was the Diocletian Palace. It is a huge structure that has somehow grown to be a part of the city itself as hotels and shops are housed in its old marble-white buildings that glitter in the sunshine.

We visited its labyrinthine-like basement

and (attempted) to climb to the top of its bell tower.

Jon made it to the top and took some lovely photos. My acrophobia kicked in as I saw its wiry, open staircase

and I decided to admire the half-way-up view instead.

The rest of the city is also quite lovely. There were beautiful flower gardens

and interesting museums with old statues. One of them cost an extra 10kn to see, only you could catch a glimpse of it from the regularly-priced museum so it was a bit of a rip-off. The statue was found by a tourist – or a fisherman – or a tourist who was fishing (?) – completely by accident. Now it’s the star feature of the museum.

We spent our last day as typical Czech tourists vacationing in Croatia – at the beach, soaking up as much sun as possible before returning to a grey, gloomy and much colder Prague. It was a perfect end to a relaxing and intriguing vacation.

Balkans Tour - Sarajevo: Part Two

Sarajevo’s sad history didn’t begin with the Balkan conflict of the early 90s. Much of the city has some sorrowful connection to the past. Our first sightseeing stop after our arrival was the Latin (or Spanish) Bridge, the site of Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s assassination and the camel’s-back-breaking-straw of the First World War. A museum now memorializes the spot with personal effects of the Archduke and his wife Sophie – also a victim of the shooting – and their assassin, the Serbian Gavrilo Princip as well as a reenactment video of the event.

Sarajevo was lucky to survive the Second World War without significant damage or fighting in its environs. The exception of course was its Jewish population which was persecuted, sent off to camps and killed. In a touching (and rare) sign of inter-religious cooperation, a sacred and valuable Jewish relic (a Torah that is one of only three ancient copies in the world) was moved to a mosque for safekeeping during this tumultuous time. It is now housed behind walls of glass in the National Museum.

While much of Sarajevo is still recovering from a decade of war, much of the city shows signs of rejuvenation. The Turkish quarter, Baščaršija was shelled during the siege but there were few scars to be seen in this wonderfully bustling section of the city.

It is filled with kebaberies and shops selling souvenirs and leather goods, beautiful mosques and elegant minarets, some of which use actual muezzins. We were lucky enough to see one real-life, human muezzin give the call the prayer without aid of a loudspeaker from one of the mosque’s minarets.

Tourists were not as plentiful as they were in the beach-filled Croatia but a few could be spotted here and there, including a terrible American singer/guitarist. He seemed to follow us wherever we were in the city to “entertain” us and anyone in listening range with his off-key warbling and forgotten notes and lyrics of popular American soft rock songs.

One of his favorite haunts was near one of the churches. In the park just in front, there were old Bosnian men playing chess with giant pieces that would never last a day in the US before being stolen. It was hard to tell if these were retirees or maybe unemployed upper-middle-aged men who had no other way to spend their days. But they did seem to be enjoying themselves (the players and the bystanders who would shout occasional advice at them). While melancholic, some signs of hope and happier times have returned to this intriguing Bosnian capital city.

Wieliczka Salt Mines, Poland

I am posting my travelogues a bit out of order. I haven't quite finished my Balkans one, but then never got around to posting my Poland trip either. So here is my blog on the Wieliczka Salt Mines, just outside of Krakow. We were there earlier this year for the May holiday.

Krakow is a picturesque little town, reminiscent of other eastern European cities such as Prague and Ljubljana. Wieliczka and its world-famous, UNESCO-acknowledged Salt Mines. with its obligatory castle, cathedral(s) and pronunciation-defying street names. There’s the winding river, narrow cobblestone streets and the smell of kielbasa in the air. However, there is one unique attraction that you’d be hard-pressed to find in any of these other cities. Journey just about ten kilometers outside the city and you’ll come to the city of Wieliczka.

And Wieliczka certainly realizes its uniqueness. The admission price was shockingly high – we paid 100 zloty for round-trip transportation and a guided tour (required) inside. Our tour guide had a wonderfully stereotypical Slavic accent. He sounded a bit like Dracula, and his accent echoed and boomed atmospherically in the dark mines. He led us down a seemingly endless staircase that plummeted down for about 150 meters. Thankfully, the staircase is one-way and an elevator will return us to the surface!

Wieliczka had been a functioning mine for 900 years but stopped production in 2007. Many of the “exhibits” (i.e., dummy dioramas for the most part) in this place are a testament to the hardships endured by the mine’s employees. It was interesting but also frustrating considering the $50 we had paid for entrance. We were hoping for something a bit more than a glorified model of mine work. Luckily we were soon treated to some of the spectacular salt sculptures –

a ring bearer

and what could have been an ode to the seven dwarves, a scene of little gnomes working the mines. All that was missing was the tune to “Hi-Ho” playing in the background. My picture came out quite dark so here is a better one I stole from Wikipedia.

Finally, we arrived at the crown jewel of this historical site, and indeed, the reason for its UNESCO certification (and also to charge an additional 10 zloty for the right to take pictures) – the salt chapel.

This chapel is extraordinary for many reasons: its unusual underground location and the sheer size and beauty of its sculptures and bas reliefs. However, the most astounding thing is that this artistic marvel was carved by simple, ordinary miners. It is truly magnificent. Even the exquisite chandeliers

are made from salt. The other sculptures are all of a religious nature, of course.

The Last Supper,

the holy family in Bethlehem

and a life-size sculpture of one of Poland’s greatest hero, Pope John Paul II,

are all represented. While the chapel is definitely the highlight of the tour, there were more pleasant surprises to follow.

There were pools of water that were reminiscent of Tolkien and the Mines of Moria

and dizzying staircases that seemed suspended in the air.

There was the sad story of Austrian tourists who drowned in a boat ride that used to be offered in the lower depths of the mines. Their bodies were never recovered, and the boat rides have never resumed.

The elevator ride back to the surface was also quite unforgettable. We waited in line since the capacity is only about ten people and it takes a full 30 seconds to get back to the top. It was like an amusement park ride where you were never quite sure of making it out alive.

All in all, the Mines were a memorable, fascinating and sometimes eerie tourist attraction. It also remains the highest-priced attraction I have ever visited, surpassing even the ridiculously expensive (but equally remarkable) Tower of London’s 15£ admission. Was it worth it? Until I find some other site comparable to the impressiveness and uniqueness, I have no regrets – apart from the emptiness of my wallet.

Balkans Tour - Sarajevo: The War Years

The ride from Mostar to Sarajevo was simply breathtaking. I had never expected Bosnia to be so beautiful. There were dramatic mountains and cliffs on both sides of the narrow road we travelled, and we followed to my favorite green river for a good part of the journey.



So when we actually arrived in Sarajevo, it was a bit underwhelming. Of course, this was through the outskirts of a poor and recently war-ravaged city, it was an unfair judgment. Sarajevo is attempting to reinvent itself as a thriving, cosmopolitan city but the scars of war are still literally visible. One of the most startling is the Sarajevo Rose. These are the impressions left behind of mortar explosions that resulted in someone's death. (This picture was taken from Wikipedia).



There are also visible "pockmarks" on many of the buildings, some more heavily than others. For example, the Holiday Inn in Sniper Alley was shelled quite extensively.



There's also some formerly glorious buildings, like the Town Hall/Library. It was once a gorgeous, Moorish-looking landmark but was bombed during the war. Apparently, there were papers blowing around everywhere afterward, remnants of the once-impressive library it contained. Now it is sadly boarded up and in disrepair, along with many other buildings.




Although it's not our usual practice, Jon and I decided to take a local tour. We asked about seeing the difficult-to-reach Tunnel Museum at the travel agency next to our hostel and booked the one about 20th Century Wars. It (supposedly) included a visit to the Tunnel Museum and some other information about the Balkan conflict of the 1990s, which we remembered very little about. When our guide came to meet us however, he told us that it wasn't possible to do the War tour and the Tunnel Museum because of the amount of waiting time at the tunnel, so we had to choose only one. So we decided on the 20th century tour.

Our guide was very insightful, if not entirely impartial. He referred to Bosnia as the "Palestine of Europe," a place where Jews, Muslims and Christians lived in harmony until the Serbian aggressors came, hell-bent on annihilating them. (His description of the Serbs made me think of Lord of the Rings' orcs who had no other mission but to destroy the world of men.) He took us to Sniper Alley, showed us the (in)famous Holiday Inn that was home to the likes of Christianne Amanpour during the early 90s,



and the apartments on the other side of Sniper Alley, from where the snipers holed up and launched their shell attacks. (Visible just beyond the facade of the National Museum)



It was extremely interesting, if unbelievably depressing to listen to his stories. He talked about ordinary people, not military men, fighting for their survival. (Young civilian men battling to save the existence of their city again evoked images of Tolkien and the Battle of Helm's Deep.) He said that while some stayed to fight, many fled and that to him, it was one of the worst forms of cowardice. He sees many young men now in the city who are healthy with no signs of war injuries and wonders about where they were during the war and why they didn't stay to defend their home. For us in the western world, the Balkan conflict has ended. We have moved on to wars in different parts of the world, and have mostly forgotten about the siege of Sarajevo.



While the city assuredly shows signs of recovery, our guide warned us that it was a very fragile peace. "Another war could happen in 48 hours," he told us, the Serbian border was moving ever closer to Sarajevo and he pointed out mountains in the distance that were actually Serbian territory. Serbia has always believed Bosnia to be part of it, not unlike the Russians with Georgia. He was angry and upset at the ineffectual EU and how they have delayed talks with Bosnia and done nothing to preserve the peace. Bosnia currently has three presidents - a Bosniak, a Croat and a Serb who serve rotating terms to maintain the balance of power. While he believes none of this was effective, he did actually praise the United States for their role in the war. The United States was the closest thing Bosnia had to a friend, he remarked especially when the US bombed targets in Serbia. It took me aback for a moment, because no one has had any kind words for the US foreign policy in quite a few years, particularly when it involves the bombing of another nation.

We ended this tour at a scenic but melancholic view of the city. The beauty of the natural surroundings contrasted with the ruined buildings and an disproportionate amount of graveyards for a city of only 300,000 (11,000 of whom were killed during the war). While the remnants of the siege are unavoidable, there's a lot more to this fascinating and poignant city, which I'll write more about in my next blog.

Balkans Tour - Mostar

It was a relief to leave the tourist hordes of the Croatian coast behind for the somewhat sleepier town of Mostar in Bosnia. Our lovely Croatian host family sent us off with a wonderful breakfast ("You cannot go hungry!" she said). Full and loaded up with burek for the three hour trip, we were ready to go. The bus ride was hellishly warm, the a/c never did much more than "leak air," as Jon put it. I was never so happy for a bus stop as I was here. We paid a ridiculous amount of money for cold water and were ecstatic for any air we could get. The worst part was we were driving by the sea for most of the trip, tantalized by the thought of a cold swim and fresh sea breeze.

When we thankfully drove into Mostar, the first thing we noticed was the war damage. There were scores of signs reading "Dangerous ruin: Do not enter!"



There were other reminders of the destruction of the 1990s. At one graveyard, virtually every year of death was between 1992 and 1996. It was heartbreakingly sad to see the pictures on the stones of men in their 20s and 30s who had died before their time.



We were unexpectedly met at the bus station by a guide from our hostel. We stayed right in the center between the bus station and Old Town, so it was a perfect location. The only downside was the shared bathroom which was outside of the building. But for $15/each a night, we couldn't complain too much!

I was immediately struck by the Turkishness of the town. The little bazaars and multitude of mosques that lined the narrow, cobblestone streets were simply lovely. It felt both exotic and familiar to hear the call to prayer again after so long.





We immediately set out to view the famous bridge for which the town is named. It is a very elegant arched bridge (and wonderful to see that it wasn't completely mobbed with people a la Charles Bridge in Prague.) I was also taken aback by the beautiful green hue of the river. I felt like I'd been transported to some fairy tale kingdom. Unfortunately the color doesn't come across as strongly in the photos.





The next day we hit the Turkish tourist sites, two historical Ottoman houses. The first was a tour-on-request with a rather reluctant guide. But we had the place to ourselves and a very intimate viewing. The second was the more touristed Turkish house where we got sandwiched between a large group of Russians, Germans and finally Italians. But the view was lovely. We tried to escape the group tours and went back to the bridge.





The bridge is known for its divers. I had seen this on a Travel Channel program and was hoping we'd get the opportunity to see one in action. The next morning we again went to the bridge for a last glimpse when we saw a guy in a speedo standing on the railing. Excited, we made our way closer to the bridge. We stood around for 15 minutes or so but the guy just kept pacing back and forth. Finally a woman (his PR agent perhaps) said that we had to pay in order to see him jump. We were tight on cash since we needed to buy lunch before hopping the bus to Sarajevo. Surprisingly no one else was coughing up the cash either so finally we left, disappointed that we had apparently missed our chance to see the Mostar bridge divers. As we headed back to the hostel, we glanced back one last time to look at the bridge. Our timing was perfect. Just as we turned, we saw the reluctant diver take the plunge and jump off the bridge. It was a perfect way to leave this memorable and picturesque town. I didn't manage to get a shot of our diver but here's the postcard that shows another one.