The Balkans via "Porsche"

I can distinctly remember a moment 15 years ago when a friend of mine told me she had spent a summer in Croatia. I had just gotten out of a class on the Rebirth of Eastern Europe where we had been discussing such topics like the implosion of Yugoslavia and how Bosnia (at that point in time at least) was considered a failed state. I looked at my friend with a bewildered look as if to say, "Why would you want to go to such a place?" "Oh, no, it's not like that! It's beautiful there!," she said.

Fast forward to not so long ago, and there I was at the Dubrovnik airport, just outside the rental car office, trying to teach myself how to drive stick all over again. Thanks in part to its appearance on various tv shows and movies as well as its admission to the EU, tourism in Croatia has really taken off. The same could not be said about our rental car, as I was struggling to get it into reverse. It had plates on it indicating it had been purchased at a Porsche dealership, but it was actually just a small Volkswagen hatchback. That wouldn't stop me from referring to our car as "the Porsche" for the remainder of the trip. We had spent a long time determining how to get around the Balkans, as we wanted to do more than just Croatia. Our plan was to drive down to Montenegro, then northern Albania, and circle back through Montenegro into Bosnia, back to Croatia, and up to Slovenia where we planned to drop off the car. Phew. Why not just go north/south instead of all this circling? Well, at least from our experience, Albania seems to be a sticking point in rental car contracts and we couldn't figure out a way of dropping off or picking up in that country. Furthermore, none of the major international car rental companies were willing to let us do a point-to-point rental, but we found a small local Croatian company that would take care of all the paperwork and insurance needed to do all these border crossings.

I finally managed to get the "Porsche" into third gear and we rumbled along the coastal road toward Dubrovnik. We stayed north of the old town and enjoyed some pizza with olives (it's everywhere). We did eventually try to get into old town with a car, but this was easier said than done.

After spending what seemed like an hour looking for a spot, we gave up. With beads of sweat dripping off my forehead, we drove up winding narrow roads to a pull-off where we could at least see the fortress from above. Luckily Dubrovnik would have the most crowds we would see for the rest of the trip. We were told that there is a bus that goes to the old town from the ferry docks that were about 3 blocks from our hotel. Why take a bus when you have a car? Well, now we all know the answer.

We trudged along toward Montenegro. It took us about 45 minutes to cross the border since most of the lanes were closed. I do admit, the time gave me a lot of time to think about all the things that could go wrong. I have seen enough Bond movies to know that border crossings are always where things go south. I thought about our paperwork and whether or not it would be a problem. As we finally reached the checkpoint, a stern looking gentleman asked for my papers, stamped our passports, and without much emotion, waved us along. We were free!

As we puttered along, we saw a fairly large presence of the Montenegrin police. They would be standing on the side of the road, and wave over vehicles. I'm not sure if this was for speeding infractions or random searches. This happened about three times where the vehicle directly in front of us was flagged over. The "Porsche," did not arouse too much suspicion, thankfully. Our destination was Kotor, a coastal town with a walled center area like Dubrovnik. We had booked a small apartment in the center of the walled city, not unlike an AirBnb, where the owner assured us he would take care of our parking concerns. As we neared the town, we could see a cruise ship docked and people were everywhere. Traffic was heavy, but a man riding on a scooter in a pink polo shirt identified himself as the owner of the apartment and offered to lead us to a special parking lot. We had no reason not to believe him.

Once free of the "Porsche," we were able to explore the old town and stretch our legs. The streets were crowded initially, its cafés teeming with the seafarers from the cruise ship no doubt. But within a few hours, the town was emptying out, as the boat tooted its horn and left for some other port of call. Now it was just us, a few other tourists, and lots of cats. We enjoyed sitting in the main square by the Cathedral of St Tryphon while enjoying a couple of local Niksicko beers.

As evening led to night, we kept exploring the dark, narrow alleys of the old town and even walked on the city walls before returning to our apartment, where a free bottle of red wine was waiting for us.

On the next day, it was a short drive to Budva. Like Kotor, it also finds itself on the coast, but the feel is very different. Million dollar yachts lined the harbor area, and there didn't seem to be nearly as many cats. It had a more resort-like feel compared to the small, quaint, old-town vibe of Kotor.

None of this mattered as we were just making a brief stopover here on our way to Albania. If you research Albania online, you will most likely find articles saying that vehicle theft in Albania is rampant, the roads are in terrible condition, and the drivers are self-taught. At least from my experience, this is an outdated viewpoint. The roads were . . . pretty standard roads, the drivers seemed no worse or better than anywhere else we had been, and despite driving a "Porsche," nobody attempted to steal it. We spent the rest of the day in Shkodër. We first tried to visit Rozafa Castle, on the outskirts of the city, but we couldn't enter because they only take cash, which we did not have. We only had credit cards and Croatian Kuna. You see, despite these countries being in various stages of entry into the EU, they don't necessarily use the Euro, and we had to keep changing money each time we crossed a border. After heading into town for an ATM, we found a pedestrian-only street, the Rruga Kole Idromeno, which was flanked by the Al-Zamil mosque on one side and a statue of Mother Theresa on the other. Fun fact, she's from Albania. We went on a shopping frenzy on this street because everything was extremely cheap. We stayed at the Hotel Tradita, just blocks away, a very old wooden building with traditional Albanian rugs and decorations. They made dinner for us, which was quite a feast. Our entire table was covered with everything from olives and goat cheese to pasta, flatbreads, stuffed potatoes, and more. I think our bill for everything including two glasses of wine for two people was something like $12. Breakfast the next morning was more of the same, an entire table covered with food, but we couldn't sit around too long because we had a long day of driving ahead of us.

We would have to cross the entire country of Montenegro (at least it's small), and then into Bosnia to the town of Mostar. Our progress was steady until we reached the border with Bosnia. The gates were down and every car around us was from a different country and we all spoke different languages. Nevertheless, it seemed that the consensus was that they were repaving the road and it would open at 2:00pm. We had about 90 mins to kill. At precisely 2:00, cars started honking their horns and eventually a Volvo from the back of the line accelerated at full speed toward the gates, which were taken down at last minute. We all followed suit. Upon crossing into Bosnia, I was a bit confused. We were greeted not by a sign welcoming us to Bosnia-Herzegovina, but rather Republika Sprska, which is like an autonomous part of Bosnia with its own flag. It was confusing, but research the political history of Bosnia, and you will find yourself even more confused. After driving through the countryside for a while, we eventually reached Mostar and settled into our room overlooking the Stari Most (literally Old Bridge). The "Old Bridge," is in fact a very new bridge on account of the old old bridge being destroyed back in the 90s during the war. Other than the bullet holes in some buildings and a few abandoned structures without roofs, one doesn't really feel like there was a bloody war fought on these river banks. Mostar has rebuilt and transformed back into a very cute old town lined with shops and restaurants. I enjoyed a large helping of pljeskavica for dinner, a sort of spiced pork, beef, and lamb patty served with fries and a pita. My travel companion looked at me with a perplexity like someone seeing a Turducken for the first time. It was very tasty, but salty.

When we left Mostar the following morning, we were handed another free bottle of wine on our way out. Not too shabby. We made a stop at Kravice Falls, a collection of waterfalls up in the mountains. As we stood there snapping pictures and taking in the natural beauty, we had to pause to remind ourselves that we were in Bosnia-Herzegovina, a place that people have so long associated with war that something as scenic as these waterfalls is easily overlooked.

Our next border crossing through the mountains into Croatia was easy, and within an hour we were in Split on the Dalmatian coast. The general theme in this area is that parking is a premium. Cars were parked on the sidewalks, on boulevards, or anywhere there was a flat piece of land. We luckily had our own garage attached to an AirBnB and didn't have to leave the "Porsche" out in the open in this bustling city. We also had a washer/dryer unit in our temporary home which was crucial. We walked through the old streets of Split and were able to see a well-preserved Roman city now playing host to a vibrant night life scene. We visited the Diocletian Palace, and enjoyed walking the narrow alleys and backstreets of this old city.

The following morning, we discovered that the dryer portion of the washer/dryer was not entirely functional, so we draped all of our clothes over the backseat of the "Porsche" as we continued our drive into Northern Croatia. We didn't stop until reaching Plitvice Lakes National Park. You may have seen pictures of this wonder adorning the walls of your dentist office. It is very zen. The park is divided into upper and lower lakes. We had arrived later in the afternoon, so we would only have time to do one section before the park closed. Our guesthouse owner suggested the upper lakes, but mentioned that most people do the lower ones. The lower lakes have bigger waterfalls, which seems to be the big draw. The upper lakes have smaller cascades, but we found this to be more appealing. The crowds were almost nonexistent. It probably didn't hurt that it was cold and raining. The pathway itself was pretty remarkable. We were enjoying our leisurely 5km hike along the wooden pathway, stopping quite often to take pictures. The only thing that kept us moving a little faster was the need to catch a small ferry across the lake back to the visitor center before they stopped operating. I have met many people who have been to Croatia, but very few go to Plitvice. I cannot recommend it enough.

When we departed the following day for Slovenia, the architecture rapidly changed from Mediterranean with red and orange roofs to more Alpine and wooden construction. Driving in Slovenia requires vignettes, or small stickers that we had to place in our windshield. It cost about 15 EUR and was valid for a week. Our destination was Bled, a resort town in the foothills of the mountains and famous for its church on an island in the middle of the lake. The shops around the lake were decidedly upscale and marked a stark departure from the prices we saw in Albania or Bosnia. We did, however, enjoy a piece of Bled Cake, a cream cake with a custard filling.

We then walked to the top of Bled Castle, which towers high over the lake. Even if you have no interest in the castle itself, I recommend it just for the overlook because it offers some of the best views of the island and church below.

Slovenia was our last stop on our Balkan road trip before switching to rail and heading into Austria and finally Munich. We drove the "Porsche" for its last leg to the Ljubljana train station. Miraculously, a representative of the rental company was there to meet us. Either that, or we were victims of the friendliest carjacking of all time.

The Balkan countries are best seen by car. There are certainly some added stresses associated with this, as you might have gathered. We got lost a few times, had to worry about border crossings and parking spots, but the flexibility a car can afford cannot be matched. I feel as though we barely scratched the surface of the Balkans, as our trip was a bit of a whirlwind. If I were to do it again, I might narrow the scope and do less driving. The Balkans have a lot to offer and each country has its own unique culture and feel, so it was hard to turn down visiting another country if we just drove a little bit longer.

The best part was learning new things about these places that don't get visited at the scale of other destinations in Europe. I would love to return and explore more of the Balkans that we didn't see such as Serbia, Kosovo, and Macedonia. And while driving may be the best way to get around, it's the time spent not driving that is the most important.

Plitvicka Jezera

After an unusually good night's rest in Split, we gathered our things and I maneuvered the Porsche like a surgeon between cars parked on the sidewalk, construction vehicles parked in the middle of narrow streets, and showed the roundabouts who's boss. About halfway into our journey north, it began to rain. A car spun out and went into a ditch next to us. I think this was actually an instant where they weren't trying to find a parking spot.

Eventually we arrived at Plitvice Lakes National Park. The night before, Nicole had shown me a picture of the wooden pathway and it was jammed with tourists. Fortunately, the rain appears to have helped  clear them out for us. The host at our guesthouse helped explain that there are two main entrances and most people go to the first one because it has a bigger waterfall or something like that. Our decision was made. We went to the other entrance. Nothing was marked out well and the process of getting around was a bit confusing.

After parking, we had to walk probably 1km to get to a tram to drop us off at another spot. It's set up a bit like Zion in the U.S. where no cars are allowed inside the park itself. From the tram, we began our hike. While Nicole was afraid the lack of sun would not showcase how green and clear the water is, the lack of harsh lighting made it easier to achieve some slow shutter shots like the one here. The falls and cascades we saw may have been smaller than what the other tourists see, but I think we made the right decision.

The path continued for a few kilometers and sometimes forked off in different directions without signage. We ran into a dead end trail that was marked closed for flooding, so we did end up doing a little bit extra, but we also saw more by doing this. The whole thing took us about three hours of walking on uneven wooden steps and muddied pathways in the rain. It should also be mentioned that it is a very different climate in this part of Croatia. While it may have been 70 in Split this morning, it was maybe 50 in Plitvice.

We saw a few of these kinds of lizards on the path. It seemed like it would have been too cold for such a creature, but they seemed comfortable. Our host said there was snow on the ground last month. So there's that . . .

Finally we reached the end...sort of. We had to take a ferry across a lake back to an area that was somewhat close to where we initially caught the tram. Keep in mind, none of this is described well so it was a minor miracle that we made it out before dusk.

Toward the end, the sun did make a brief appearance as well. We ended up getting dinner at a restaurant down the road, and went back to our guest house to rest after our day of hiking.

Tomorrow we have another long day of driving up to Slovenia to a place called Lake Bled. Though the rain worked in our favor today, I'm hoping it is good weather tomorrow to support a safe drive to the north.

From Herzegovina to Croatia

We spent the morning walking around Mostar for a bit again. We tried to get some new vantage points on the bridge. I got a couple of postcards and mailed them from a Bosnian post box. Good luck everyone! If you did your reading on the Bosnian War, you would know that Mostar was under siege for over nine months during which time every bridge in the city was destroyed. I now realized that the large pieces of stone that were on the beach below the bridge were in fact the original bridge.

The town is now a UNESCO heritage site, so hopefully the new old bridge doesn't get shelled again. You can still find ruins if you look for them, but nature (and graffiti artists) have all but consumed the remains. It was hard to imagine on this sunny May day that there was once a really horrific war going on here involving mass-rape, ethnic cleansing, and starvation. On our way out of Mostar, we made a brief stop near the Mostar airport which was once an air base. I wanted to see an abandoned underground aircraft hangar from the Tito era. If you have more time to kill, research Josef Broz Tito and Yugoslavia.

We continued up the mountains of Herzegovina on our way to Split. Herzegovina you ask? Why not Bosnia? Ah, see that's all part of the confusing fun that is Bosnia & Herzegovina. Bosnia is the casual name for the whole country, though it is still partitioned with unofficial borders based on historical ethnic divisions. Considering this was considered a failed state not long ago, it seems to be working for the most part. Maybe Israel should take notes.

High in the mountains, we stopped at Kravica Falls, a set of several waterfalls plunging into clear green water. It's the kind of site you don't expect to see in Bosnia... or Herzegovina. It was a nice little retreat in the countryside. We saw a few people swimming in the waters, but it is evidently pretty frigid, so I wouldn't last long. We then continued on our way toward Croatia. And unlike yesterday, the border was quick and easy to cross. We were the only car. Shortly after coming down the mountains on the Croatian side, we encountered our first real highway.

The speed limit was 130kph and the Porsche was flat out and doing about . . . 110. With the help of a little downhill, I made it to 130. It was like a whole different style of driving, which changed again once we got into Split. Cars were driving onto the sidewalk to park. Two-way streets would only have space for one-way of traffic because everyone just parked in the middle of the lanes. Clearly Split needs more parking spots. We were miraculously able to find our airbnb, even if it may have entailed reversing down a one-way street the wrong way. I was just trying to blend in...

We got settled and walked into the old town. The main site is the Roman Diocletian Palace from around 400 AD. There's a pantheon-esque building just behind it and the entire area has been repurposed as cafés, restaurants, and jewelry shops. Even the underground region of the palace has been converted into a market for religious icons and other tchotchkes. It is a very bustling city. Dubrovnik was small potatoes by comparison (and I already mentioned how difficult parking was there, so now you know why everyone in Split is parking on the sidewalk). One other detail should be shared about Split and it is that the entire waterfront smells like egg salad -- or more accurately egg salad that has been left out for a month. It is a key part of Split's identity along with parking on the sidewalk.

We had dinner at a pizza place in the old town that was tucked away in an alley. Then we went out to take pictures at night. It was still just as bustling. Tomorrow we drive to Plitvice Lakes, which after doing some research, is probably no better with the crowds than Split. Wish us luck.

 

Kotor

What began as a fitful night of sleep somehow ended in oversleeping until 1015. This gave us a later start than anticipated. I thought perhaps it would be easier to find a place to park near the old town on a Monday morning, but evidently today is also a holiday. There was no parking to be found. Crawling behind other desperate cars looking for parking was less than ideal. As we drove around, we saw all kinds of groups marching into the old town -- students, tour groups, and others. It had to be packed inside. None of this seemed fun, so we just drove to a spot where we could see it from above and called it good enough.

Our little VW Up had a chance to take a rest before we continued on to Montenegro. As I gathered the vehicle documents for country crossings, I noticed the little car was purchased from a Porsche dealer in Split and had Porsche plate holders. I therefore find it fitting to hereby refer to our car as "the Porsche." We went through two border checkpoints which took us about 35 mins or so.  After another hour or so of driving we got to Kotor in Montenegro. Traffic was a mess. While we did eventually find a spot, the guy who booked the room for us called and was trying to guide us to parking.

After walking about 3km in vain, he called again and said, "I'm wearing pink shirt!" and appeared seconds later. From there he guided us via scooter to a special parking lot. Somehow the traffic had now dispersed and it was like following Moses through the Red Sea except it was man in pink shirt on a scooter riding through the streets of Kotor. We are staying in an apartment in the middle of Old Town and were given a free bottle of local wine. Not too shabby. After getting settled, we walked around town for a bit, checking out the shops and various food options.

The streets were a bit crowded with tourists because a cruise ship had docked there. Sometimes we could find a back alley or square that wasn't as crowded, but as a whole, it was a bit difficult to navigate. Also, there are no street names, so we ended up finding our way around by referencing shops and other landmarks. The interesting thing about this place is that nobody really thinks anything about Montenegro, yet here were all these tour groups and cruisers mobbing the town.

We got dinner at a pub in the square and watched one tour group after another enter and exit. I heard one group mention that 730pm was their meeting time. I looked at my watch. 700pm. Soon enough... It became quite apparent when the groups had taken off because the atmosphere was a lot calmer. As the sun set, we went back out to take more pictures at dusk.

While there were still a fair amount of people, most of the groups had departed, so it was much more relaxing. We have pretty adequately seen all of the old town by this point, at one time even walking on the city walls themselves. There is a path leading up to a fortress, but it seemed a bit ambitious. You can sort of make out the walled path in the previous picture as it winds it way up the hill. 

 After walking around the whole town again, we returned to our room and settled in with a glass of wine out on the attached terrace. Perhaps as a result of our oversleeping last night, we will be back on some sort of normal schedule. We will see. The Porsche has another border crossing ahead of it tomorrow as we go into Albania, a country with a reputation for theft of high-end German cars. The Porsche will no doubt be highly sought after. Good night from Montenegro. Yes, I know you don't know where that is. Neither did I. Apparently it was in cahoots with Serbia for a while, so it has only been an independent country since 2006. The more you know . . .

Made it to Croatia

It was a long day . . . or days depending on how you look at it. There were many steps to get us to where we are now. Three flights, two of which depended on getting a standby seat. The other was booked less than two days ago. Nothing like flying by the seat of your pants. First we took a SkyWest flight from Nashville to Detroit. Then we had a three hour layover that we spent eating Potbelly's sandwiches and attempting to relax in the terminal. After a spell, the gate agent started clearing names and I worried that perhaps we wouldn't get business class seats, but we were cleared after half the plane had boarded. Can you imagine having to fly in coach? Unbelievable. We were seated in front of each other since the seats that were together were already occupied. It was about an 8.5 hr flight from Detroit over to Rome. I tried to sleep for a bit, but I can't really force myself to sleep - even in a lay-flat business class seat.

Nevertheless, we passed the time by watching movies or eating. I calculated that my birthday would roll to midnight when we were south of Greenland. That time came and went without much fanfare. The Captain did not come on the intercom to make an announcement about it. Surprising, really.

About 30 mins ahead of schedule we touched down in Rome. We did not have to go through passport control to my surprise, but I was concerned that we might have to go out through customs just to check in for our next flight.

We went to a transfers desk and the Italian workers with unfortunate angry default faces assured us we could get our tickets at the gate, which at that point had not been assigned yet. Surprisingly it did all work out. We took a bus to the Croatia Airlines Q400 turboprop and were soon on the way to Dubrovnik. Being just over an hour flight, I found it easy to fall asleep for an insignificant amount of time.

We had a nice view of old town Dubrovnik during our approach to the airport. There was a minor bit of confusion with the rental car because the name of the company in the booking process is different than the kiosk we actually went to. This was resolved and we acquired a Volkswagen Up to take us on our way. The airport was about 20 mins or so from our hotel, and despite the stress of driving a manual on narrow and winding roads through the hills, Croatia has better drivers than Nashville.

After napping for a little bit at the hotel, we attempted to drive back toward the old town in hopes of getting a parking spot just outside the walls. This proved to be impossible, so we turned around and went back to the hotel. We got some dinner down by the port and walked around briefly. This was going to be as ambitious as we were willing to be for our first day.