The Final Round

It is hard to believe that I find myself back in the small Black Sea town of Kocaali collecting my bags for what will be my final trip to Istanbul Ataturk Airport.  Tomorrow I will make my way to Karamursel for a friend’s wedding, and then the following morning it is back to Istanbul with all my belongings.

My travel through Europe certainly ended on a high note.  After leaving Mostar, I met up with Seth (my roommate in Malatya) and his friend Vito in Sarajevo.  Similar to Prague, the Bosnian capital is rich in natural beauty and history, having seen some of the worst violence during the breakup of Yugoslavia.  The streets and buildings are still scarred with marks of the war.  Visitors are warned not to venture off paved roads on the outskirts of the city because thousands of landmines still lie hidden throughout the surrounding hills.  Despite the freshness of the violence, the people of Sarajevo remain hopeful for their future and are adamant about moving forward.

A perfect example of this is Neno, the self-employed student tour guide who walked us around the city our first day.  Along with having an incredibly expansive knowledge of the history of Sarajevo extending back to Ottoman times, Neno was able to talk about the war from personal experience, having been seven when it began.  Operating his tours on a tip-only basis, Neno genuinely holds to the principle that the world needs to know Sarajevo’s story.  All he wants is for you to fall in love with the city by understanding the lessons of its past, both the good and the bad.

After the long walk with Neno, we refreshed ourselves with some Bosnian coffee and relaxed back at the hotel before taking a (paved road) walk through the hills overlooking the city.  We stumbled upon some incredible views of the streets below.  The cemeteries next to our vista (marked only with death dates from 1992 – 1995) were a reminder that, while the view is beautiful now, it once served as a perch for snipers and artillery that shelled the city for a four year period.  Such violence was often indiscriminate, killing even the elderly and children.  In the city center a monument now stands which honors the 1,300 children which were victims of the violence during the mid-nineties.

The following day, we walked to “New Town” where we visited a few museums including the famous Tunnel Museum, which is the location where both goods and people were smuggled in and out of Sarajevo.  Today only 25 meters of the once 950 meter tunnel exist to be walked through.

Weary of travel and eager to see a few more sights back in Turkey, I decided to return with Seth and Vito to Istanbul.  Here I mostly took care of important business, transferring money and continuing my seemingly endless job search.  However, by night I would spend time with Seth and Vito, cruising the Bosphorous or eating under the Galata Bridge.  On the morning I left, I was even able to meet Seth’s family who flew in to tour the area.

My next destination was Canakkale.  Canakkale is a coastal town close to the location where the Battle of Galipoli took place in the First World War.  Along with peaceful surroundings, Canakkale serves as a great base to visit Ancient Troy and Assos, both of which I was able to see.

On June 25^th, my plane will land back in DFW.  I plan on having some recovery down-time there for any who want to hang out or visit.  Afterwards, I am unsure where I will land, but I’ll probably make it around to Houston and Austin before too long.  In preparation for my arrival home, I have already fired up the Texas Country on the iPod.  Despite the fact that I am currently sitting on a Turkish beach, I can close my eyes in the sun and the sound of Pat Green in my ears almost makes me believe I am home already.

See you soon.

View from the hills overlooking Sarajevo. Every tombstone you see had a death year of 1992 – 1995.

Memorial to Children Victims of the Siege of Sarajevo. The large green figure represents a mother trying to shield her child, the smaller green figure. The base of this fountain was made with melted shell pieces which were stamped with the footprints of family members and friends who lost children during the war.

For four years Sarajevo was indiscriminately bombed from above. In locations where three or more people were killed, the shell markings were filled with red resin. Such memorials are known as Sarajevo Roses.  Hundreds exists throughout the city.

During the siege, most goods were hard to come by. This is the location of the black market which developed during the war years. Neno told us that a kilo of coffee could cost up to the equivalent of fifty euro. On February 5, 1994 this market became the location of the worst bombing during the war. During the first attack, 68 were killed and 144 injured. Later in August of 1995 another shell struck the market killing 37 and injuring another 90.

This monument stands as a “thank you” from the people of Sarajevo to the international community. Neno told us that the food aid that was delivered by the UN and other organizations was both monotonous and disgusting. At the end of the war, this giant “canned beef” (typical food donated from around the world) was created. Something to think about when you give food donations.

Tunnel Museum.

The view from the Latin Bridge looking to the corner where Franz Ferdinand was assassinated. This event sparked the onset of World War I.

Seth, Vito, Neno, Yours Truly.

The Temple of Athena was built in Assos around 530 B.C. From here Hermeias, a student of Plato, ruled before he was defeated and killed by the Persians. During his rule, he encouraged education, inviting philosophers to come live within the city. In 350 B.C. Aristotle settled here marrying Hermeias’s niece.

 

Bridging Differences in Mostar

No more than two hours inland from the Croatian coast, green mountains begin to spring from the ground and you find yourself deep in the heart of Bosnia and Herzegovina.  Mostar is a small city with big historical significance.  Prior to the collapse of Yugoslavia its people lived harmoniously despite differences in ethnic background and religious belief.

In the center of the city, spanning the Neretva River, stood Stari Most, Mostar’s prized Ottoman bridge which citizens upheld as a symbol of their tolerance and connectedness.  Thus, when Bosnian-Croat shelling brought down the bridge in 1993, the already hurting city was pushed further to despair.

After the war, various groups came together in an effort to rebuild the bridge in the same method as it was originally built by the Ottomans.  It stands today as an UNESCO World Heritage Site and once again is pointed to by citizens as a symbol of their coexistence.

Stari Most Bridge. Occasionally locals will dive into the river from the top of the bridge. I waited for awhile, but never saw such feat.

Mostar from the top of Stari Most.

Formally a bank, this building was converted into a snipers tower during the war. It now stands abandoned as the bank company no longer exists and it is unclear who owns the property.

Bullet holes and shrapnel marks still scar many buildings.

Lake Bled and Adriatic Dream-cities

As I left Hungary, the destinations of my trip shifted from the historical to the naturally beautiful.  It is not that Slovenia and Croatia lack significant histories.  After all, in the last century alone they have been tossed from the Habsburgs to the Nazis to the Soviets and experienced the rise and violent collapse of their own Republic of Yugoslavia.  However, despite all of this, the cities I stumbled upon in my journey chose to focus less on their histories and more on their beauties.

In Ljubljana, Slovenia, I CouchSurfed with a girl named Urška.  Although her place was a far walk from the city center, I really enjoyed staying with her.  She helped me plan my day-trip to Lake Bled and directed me around town.  Additionally, she introduced me to her international group of friends with whom I enjoyed some great chats on “the beach” and in the cafes that line the Ljubljanica River.

The journey from Ljubljana to Split was long and involved a train-to-bus transfer in Zagreb, the capital of Croatia.  I am proud to say that I managed all legs of this trip flawlessly and, unlike the trip into Slovenia, I was not harassed by a drunken man carrying a 2.5 liter Fanta bottle filled up with beer.  I am pretty sure his breath alone made my blood alcohol level rise.  Thankfully trains stop frequently, and I was able to feign disembarkation and move two cars down.

The Diocletian Palace and its surrounding neighborhood, which occupy most of Split’s city center, have been an UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1979.  Upon arriving to my hostel, I quickly met a Canadian fellow named Justin.  We decided to venture through the palace’s many narrow alleyways.  The moonlight reflecting of the marble cobblestones was a dreamlike sight.

Although Justin was leaving the following morning, I met another solo traveler from Chile named Diego.  We spent significant time together over the next two days, climbing to the top of the Bell Tower, visiting the Temple of Jupiter, and smoking cigars while gazing out at the waterfront.  There are some people with whom you really share conversational chemistry.  For me, Diego was one of those people.  We chatted politics, travel, religion, girls, and our futures while taking in such beautiful surroundings.  Currently Diego is island hopping off the coast of Croatia, but we may meet back up in Sarajevo.

Now I find myself in Dubrovnik.  I have to say, I have never been so disappointed in my camera’s ability to capture its surroundings.  I spent a majority of today walking the narrow, marbled alleyways of the Old Town before climbing on top of the city’s famous fortified walls.  These walls have protected Dubrovnik since the 7^th century and offer incredible views of the city and the Adriatic Sea.  After walking the entire two kilometer circumference and snapping scores of pictures, I returned disappointed.  The lens simply cannot capture the beauty of Dubrovnik which has been deemed the “Pearl of the Adriatic” for good reason.

Lake Bled.

Sail boat, Church of the Assumption, and swan.

Bled Castle and Church of the Assumption.

In 305 AD, the Roman emperor Diocletian decided to retire in Split and began constructing a large palace in the city center. After his death in 311 AD, the mausoleum (on the left) was constructed in his honor. The Cathedral of Saint Domnius Bell Tower (right) was completed around 1100 AD and offers great views of the city, if you can withstand the vertigo from the steep climb.

Split from the Cathedral of Saint Domnius Bell Tower.

The Split coast from the Saint Domnius Bell Tower.

Fort Lovrijenac as seen from the Dubrovnik city walls.

In October of 1991, the Yugoslav People’s Army mounted the hill above Dubrovnik and began shelling the city. This campaign was a response to the movement for Croatian independence and resulted in the death of 114 civilians and the damaging of 68% of the city’s buildings.

The apartment I will rent when I move to Dubrovnik. You can see the amazing balcony from which I will drink my morning coffee and gaze out over the Adriatic Sea. Life will be rough.

Dubrovnik.