Plitvice and Paklenica National Parks, Croatia - January 2016

We approached Plitvice National Park (plit-vit-za) from the south.  It had been snowing all day inland, over the mountain. We passed through small seemingly abandoned towns, the snow piling up. A few people milling about, a business here and there, and a lot of crumbling buildings.

Part way through one of the towns, we experienced a rare phenomenon.  There was a flash that caught our eye from above. In the brief moment afterward, we wondered out loud if it was the street light or something else.  Then BOOM. The unmistakable crack of thunder. 

It was thunder and lightening.  Thunder snow. A pretty rare occurrence that simultaneously surprised us,  frightened us and excited us.

We didn't have accommodations for the evening, relying on booking on the spot one of the many rooms surrounding the park entrance that we read about.  It was late afternoon as we approached the park,  getting dark.  We began to wonder a little bit where we would stay.  It was snowing heavily, and there wasn't much life out there.  The southern flank of the park is not very developed.  The northern area around the jezeros (lakes) is what makes the place so famous, and where 99% of visitors spend their time.

We have grown accustomed to seeing signs for "sobe, zimmer, room", advertising accommodations as we have traveled through Croatia. Usually not looking open or inviting this time of year. Such was the case as we trudged along in the snow in the dark in our miniature car. A passing park bus provided minor comfort that we weren't stranded.

We neared the entrance to the lakes and traffic increased and so did development. We were very road weary after driving all day, the last several hours in a blizzard. With six inches of fresh snow on the ground and counting,  we saw the sign for a hotel and decided to turn. 

We both knew that this decision would be costly. We didn't have to verbalize it to agree that a hotel would likely be expensive, but also the option we needed to pursue.  We have traveled enough, stayed in enough Airbnb apartments, rooms in folks houses etc to know that a hotel in a place like this is not a budget option.  While we aren't traveling on a shoe string, two months is a long time so we are conscious of how much we spend on accommodation. We rather splurge on food than a fancy room.

We turned in the hotel entrance,  snaking down and around to the entrance in untracked snow.  Uh oh we thought.  This place doesn't look open, we are driving down a hill in our little car in a bunch of snow.  Turns out the place wasn't open, but a little sign taped on the door said that hotel jezero was open, just up the road.  We took a running start and squirreled our way back up and out to the main road.  We pulled into the appropriate hotel a few minutes later and asked for a room. The price was well over a hundred bucks, but it included breakfast and the guarantee of one more day of marital bliss.

We woke to 12 inches of fluffy snow. Trees covered, every branch decorated by the heavy snow fall in the absence of wind.  No clouds, sunny.

We strapped on our gators and away we went.  After a short bus ride, we were making fresh tracks down the trail. There were a couple others on the bus and we passed a few more on the trail, otherwise we had the place to our selves. (We don't know it any other way, but supposedly it's a mad house in the summer, so we reveled in our good fortune).

The trail descends down to the stair step complex of lakes connected by rambling, beautiful water falls. The plank walkways traverse across the water and along the shore line.  The walkways were covered with deep snow, making the journey extra entertaining in the absence of hand rails and icy water below.

As we gazed up at the main falls, the warm sun started to peak over the canyon walls. We were surprised when large chunks of ice calved from the top, the sun and flowing water loosening their grip.

We hiked around all the open trails (the "upper area" all being closed in winter), leading to the boat launch that carries visitors back to the entrance.  We opted the walk the trail along the lake shore instead of the boat ride. The trail was technically closed, but it was gorgeous out, and we were equipped to break trail in the fresh snow. The sun was rapidly melting the snow on the trees by this point, so we were showered the whole way back by dripping branches.

It was a beautiful park, and very well developed, providing up close access with low impact. We are fortunate to have seen it on a day like that.

We got back to the car, which was still covered in snow since it was in the shadows. We cleaned it off and headed back down the road. 

Traveling due south from the park,  we passed through the two small villages where my great grandparents were from.  Josan (on the main road) was where my great grandmother, Pera, was from and Mekinjar (off the road a few miles was my grandfather,  Mile, home town). There is not much left in these places, so we didn't stay long. We would have poked around a little more,  but with a foot of snow flanking the road, it was impossible to pull off or turn around. We did walk through a cemetery in josan, all the headstones reading Radakovic, Peras maiden name. While in the cemetery, a villager walked down from the hill above, likely wondering what our car was doing blocking his road. He didn't speak English. We said "Marinkovich", and it motioned off toward the valley and said "Mekinjar".

We found our way to Mekinjar, took some photos of the few rubbled buildings and the surrounding agricultural land.

Pera and Mile immigrated to the usa after world war 1 and landed in Anaconda, Montana.  Mile worked at the smelter until he was killed in a rail car accident. The Anaconda Company compensated Pera by paying off her mortgage and providing her wood to heat the home that winter.  Legend has it that she took to distilling spirits to support her troup of sons,  placing them in a box on the front stoop so they would be safe in the event of an accident. Supposedly there is a copper still or two hidden away in one my grandpa Dan's late brother's place in Anaconda.

The landscape was very reminiscent of South west montana,  the big hole and the area they resettled, Butte-Anaconda. I certainly had a twinge of nostalgia while here, I suppose they did too, over on the other side.

We forged ahead and zigged back out to the coast, to a little town outside of Paklenica National Park (pak-la-neet-za). We stayed in a cute, modest apartment in Rovanjska. Our host, Dora, was a cheerful and outgoing gal in her late 30s. During the war,  she was a refugee for 5 years in Germany, having to flee croatia.  The apartment building,  originally her grandmother's, was occupied by soldiers to "process people", and was beat up pretty badly.  Bombs, bullets,  shrapnel all taking their toll. After the war her grandmother returned and got the business going again.  Eight years ago Dora returned to help her out.  Her grandmother has since passed, and Dora runs it herself now. She tells us this story over breakfast she prepared for us. 

This time of year is slow, so we were fortunate to have the opportunity to connect with her.

Of course, we didn't know her story when we booked the inexpensive room on Airbnb. How enriching it was to ponder while we stayed amongst the freshly painted walls and new windows. You don't need to venture far to hear first hand accounts of war in this part of the world.

Paklenica national park is known for its abundance of rock climbing routes and vast network of hiking trails.  Be sure to look at a map, or stay on the trail, though, as there are still areas with land mines. They are only in the more remote regions, deeper in the park. The lower, more accessed areas, have been deactivated in one way or another over the years.

We hiked up the main corridor, along the the river, up the steep canyon that is home to all the climbing routes. This trail was paved in massive stones, the path wider than many roads in this country. We figured only the first few km would be built.  No, some poor sobs broke their backs for miles building this thing.  It was both impressive and highly annoying. Walking on rocks isn't fun very fun.  I would much rather dirt. It was pouring rain, too, making the rocks slick,  adding to the discomfort. 

We ultimately reached a little mountain hut. It's likely a busy place in the summer, bustling with hikers and climbers based on the number of picnic tables.  On this rainy day,  it was just us and another couple that arrived just before us.  It looked like they were staying for the night in the upstairs accommodation. The guy that runs the place invited us in to warm up, but we opted out because the other guests were in there smoking.  It's true, no place in Europe is smoke free.

I explored around the hut and discovered a sign with an arrow that said "swimming pool".  I followed the arrow, and much to my surprise there was a giant rock basin. It was empty now, but was connected to the river via diversion channels.  This thing was about 8 feet deep and probably 40 feet in diameter.  I could imagine good times being had here.

That night, we scoured the little towns looking for food.  Not much open this time of year.  We ended up eating at a small family run hotel. I had the "pork". They brought me a plate containing 3 pork chops and nothing else. We are getting a little fatigued of the meat (and potatoes, if your lucky) diet in croatia. Especially in these small towns in the off season.

The following day,  we bid Dora adieu and pushed farther down the coast.

Istria, Croatia - January 2016

Slow flakes began to lightly fall as we stepped off the bus in Ljubljana. The Slovenian capitol (pronounced lou-blee-ana) was gray and the air had a bite to it. We didn't stay here long, nor venture far from the station.  It was only a stopover between Triglav National Park and Zagreb, Croatia.

Ljubljana had a little edge to her,though.  Graffiti on the walls and train cars. Something we hadn't seen much of until now.  However, it's hard to look your best in overcast and cold,before winters white blanket arrives.

After a quick bite to eat, we boarded our afternoon train to Zagreb. Upon arrival, the evening was setting in, and so was the storm. We were showered in large fluffy, wet, snowflakes as we performed the routine of arriving in a new place, a new country. Find an atm to get cash in the local currency (kuna), figure out the public transportation situation, buy a ticket, get on the tram, fumble through the new ticket scanning system. Each time the routine is less frenetic, more smiles, and more deliberate.

The snow was piling up in Zagreb, and the Christmas lights were on center stage.

We found our way to the Airbnb we rented for just the night.  My big backpack on my back and pulling Clare's bag through the snow.  Clare with the daypack and her handbag. We have settled on this configuration because there are too many stairs to navigate, and Clare is at the point where she can't (er, shouldn't) throw around a larger bag.

The apartment was nice and would more than suffice for the night. It was only equipped with a pull out couch bed and bunk beds. A fact we apparently overlooked when booking.  I took the top bunk, and Clare the bottom.

Excited to be in a city full of restaurants, we found our way to a tapas place we read about online. I had goose liver pate with sweet wine (John taught me that pairing), and followed it with lentil soup and a croation beer. Clare had a roasted beet and goat cheese salad.  The bottle of olive oil on the table was fantastic, the waiter telling us it came from Vodnjan, on the Istria peninsula. We made a mental note as we were soon headed that way.

After a chilly and fast breakfast in the morning  (the hot water heater went out during the night killing the heat registers and hot water for bathing), we headed out.  We geared up our bags and trudged through the fresh 5 inches of snow.  We caught a shuttle to the airport where our rental car was waiting.

When you book a car using an online aggregator and select the absolutely smallest and cheapest option (a VW Up! - 108 euro for 20 days rental) you end up dealing with a company called "Best Rent."

There was no line at the Best Rent counter, adorned by a wrinkled and faded sign. When the agent finally appeared he was all business.  Looking at us with his one eye,  he demanded passports, drivers license and credit card. After some photo copies and running my card for 800 euro "deposit", he handed us the keys and said nice day.  Before we could spit out any questions he had his eye trained down at his phone,showing us only the top of his bald head.  I guess you get what you pay for.  As we left the counter a little dazed and confused by the brevity, he was struck with a flash of humanity and handed us a windshield scraper.

The drive from Zagreb to Rovinj is a few hundred kilometers. About 2/3 of which it was snowing and with heavy traffic. We stopped in a little town just outside of Istria for lunch.  The waitress recommended either the game or the horse meat.  I reluctantly chose the game, figuring the horse would be offered regularly. I haven't eaten horse since i was in Chile in 2008, and always look forward to the opportunity. I blew it tho, haven't seen it again. Anyway, Clare followed suite and we got two large plate fulls of brown globs and dumplings. I think the meat was bear based on its fatty and chewy nature. It wasn't great, but i ate most of it.  Clare left a little hungry.

We descended down out of the mountains into Istria and the snow subsided. We continued on to the coast, and our homebase for the next three nights.

We rented a modest (cheap) one bedroom place on Airbnb. Our host Slobodan (goes by boban, i called him bobodan, not to his face) was a laid back cheery middle aged guy. He and his wife live above the apartment.  He gave us a couple dinner recomendations as it was already after dark, but promised to give us more in the morning.  When we told him we were on a mission for good food, he was on it.

Istria is like little Italy (actually quite near Trieste and Venice), known for its wine, olives, olive oils and truffles. Handmade pasta, cured ham, cheese and lots of fish.

Anxious to get a start on the day, we texted bobodan at about 9:30am and told him we were ready to talk restaurants. He came down and we busted out the map and pen and paper. We weren't but 5 minutes along when he paused, and got up and left.  A few minutes later, he returned with his hands full.  Three wine glasses,  a bottle of white, a bottle of red and a bottle of grappa and three shot glasses.

"It's not too early for wine?" he asked.

He started by pouring three shots of crystal clear grappa. His friend makes it for him. Strong but good. Clare pleaded that she was fine due to pregnancy.  After smelling her portion, i drank it.

Next it was white wine,  malvasia. His friend makes this for him, too. Bobo procures the grapes, then his buddy makes 150 liters for him. It was golden in color and mildly sweet and crisp. Yum. I drank mine and Clare's portion.

Next was red.  Again a home made variety that was great. Two portions for me.  As we meandered on about the food, the red wine kept flowing.

After a couple hours,  bodan left us be, (and left us with the two bottles of wine!). It was now time to find lunch!

We decided to head south and visit Vodnjan, the olive oil mecca the waiter in Zagreb told us about.  We grabbed a pastry at the bakery and hit the road.

As we pulled into the small ancient city, the walls collapsed around us.  Before we knew it, we were driving down cobblestone road that was max 6 feet wide.  We snaked around, constantly wondering if we were on a pedestrian walk way (always being reassured by a random arrow or do not enter sign) until we found a nook to park. It was raining pretty hard, so were happy to stumble across a tourist info office. The folks were busy doing some clerical work and were a little surprised to see us. Everything was closed.  The gal made a couple calls on our behalf, and was able to get a guy to come down to do an oil tasting at his shop. Paul was Irish, married to a croation lady with a family olive oil business, Brist.

He was supper chatty, running us through their lineup and answering all our questions. Needless to say we were the only people in there so it was really nice to have his undivided attention. The stuff we are eating in the usa is not the real deal.

Paul and his wife left other careers to move back to Croatia and help with the family business. It was entertaining to chat with him since clare and i are in a similar situation. Turns out paul wrote a parenting book for ner do well dads to-be that was quite a hit in croatia.  He promised to send me the unedited and unpublished english manuscript.

We had a late lunch/early dinner at a place bodan recommended outside of Pula. Masdive portions of fried calamari, bean soup, istrian sausages and a truffle seafood pasta. I don't think we could muster dessert, but i probably had an espresso as I've gotten into the habit with all my meals.

We cruzed through Pula,saw the coliseum and headed back to Rovinj.

The next day we drove north in the rain along the coast. This is a touristy stretch, so most things were closed. Places that are open are generally "cafe bars" but it's hard to stop at those because every person in Europe smokes.  And they smoke inside. And most certainly smoke while drinking coffee. It's not 100% avoidable, but we try to limit Clare's exposure. We drove into Vrsar, an old little town perched on the sea. We again found our selves navigating extremely narrow roads, up and down hills, thankful we were in the worlds smallest car. We lunched in novigrad and then headed inland.

We wound our way on narrow back rounds to Hum (say hoom), the smallest town in the world. A charming little walled town that serves mainly as an attraction, i assume, but we were the only ones there.

That night we had dinner at Bobo's primary recomendation, Konoba Danijeli. Located in central istria in the middle of nowhere.

Following bodans specific advice, we started with istrian prosciutto with cheese and truffle oil. We then had a homemade pasta with a truffle white sauce. We finished with panacotta and espresso. I think he recommended that we get more, but we learned our lesson the day before. (A lesson we keep relearning as it turns out.)

The following morning it was time to move on.  We bid slobodan adieu and headed toward Plitvice Lakes National Park. We drove across istria then down the coast to Senj. We had lunch over looking the sea and were surprised by how stark and arid the landscape was.  I had calimari, half fried half grilled drenched in olive oil (preferred the fried - grilled is a little chewy and watery). Clare got the grilled shrimp. Erase what you are picturing and imagine a plate of 10 small lobsters.

After lunch we turned in from the coast and started winding up over the tallest mountain in croatia.  As we climbed, the rain turned to snow, and it never stopped dumping.

Dan, Clare

Triglav National Park - Slovenia New Years 2016

Note: this was typed on a smartphone. Proofing etc etc not worth the effort.

The attendant at the international ticket window in the Prague train station looked at us confused when we requested tickets to Lesce-Bled. Which we pronounced leskee bled. (Actual pronunciation, leska bled). We clarified by noting it is in Slovenia. Blank stares. She then passed a scratch piece of paper where I scribbled the name.  She hesitantly plugged it into the computer. Success! 

We received similar confusion from other travelers we encountered en route when we said that, in fact, we had not visited Vienna, or any other place in Austria. You see,  Austria lays smack dab between Czech Republic and Slovenia and is most certainly on 'the circuit'. I'm sure its a great place, however, decisions must be made when traveling, and as I've said before, not all must sees can be seen.

Our general area of interest for this trip has always been the balkans, especially Croatia,Greece and Turkey. We flew into Amsterdam and spent Christmas in Prague more for trans atlantic flight practicalities (and for the fact that Clare was not keen on spending her favorite holiday away from family and in a country that doesn't recognize it.) Any excuse is good enough to spend some time in Amsterdam.  Our flight home is from Istanbul Turkey.

We decided that we wanted to break up the trek to Croatia with a visit to the country side. Clare honed in on the Slovenian national park in the Julian alps and we booked our tickets.

It's a long haul from Prague to Triglav National Park, but we took advantage of the daylight train to gaze out over the beautiful Austrian country. We are listening to the audio book version of The Cartel.  Great book, very engaging. Reminds me of the days I spent in the barrios in Santa Fe. An interesting juxtaposition with our pure and idyllic frolic.

Lake Bled is the crown jewel of Slovenian tourism. It sits right outside the park, so it has been heavily developed with hotels, restaurants, shops etc. It's not a large lake, about 12 km in circumference. There is a castle on the island and another one perched high on the cliffs above. Very picturesque. We stayed here one night, as it was between the train station (and our late arrival) and our destination inside the park. The following  day we walked around the lake and hiked the mountain over looking it.

We pulled the bus schedule out while on the top of the mountain and realized we were cutting it close.  A quick decent, a couple trespasses and a sprint with our luggage paid off as we flagged the bus down on its way out of the station.  We rode up the valley 30 minutes to lake bohijn.

We got off the bus and as we stared at our map trying to figure out how to walk to our accommodation, a car pulled up next to us. The window rolled down and the friendly faces of Sue and Tim Furey (and Rosie the dog) of Missoula were there beaming at us.  They jumped out and a cacophony of hugs, smiles, and stories filled the crisp alpine air. Tim and Sue are on sabbatical in Serbia, visiting their son Kevin and grandkids (who are stationed there for work.) It was a great coincidence to run into them and exciting to see friendly faces so far from home.  They gave us a ride to our rental apartment and they headed back down the road to Ljubljana, Slovenia's capitol.

The place was very spacious, on the top floor of a middle aged couple's home.  We had a bedroom and a separate kitchen/living room and two full bathrooms. No bidets. (We have been in Europe three weeks now, and still no bidet. Wtf.) The view out our window was of Mount Triglav, the highest point in the Julian alps.

On a typical year, it would be a winter wonderland at this point.  But, it's not.  So instead of inquiring about xcountry skis, we were asking about bikes. As it goes, we were stuck in recreation purgatory and left with only our hiking feet.

The first day we hiked the length of the lake, up off the shore, on a meandering trail through the forest. We arrived at the far side of the lake at the base of Vogel ski resort. It was pretty quiet, but we poked around and learned that the following night,  new years eve, there was a party up on the mountain, a gondola ride up the hill. We walked back to our place along the lake shore  (about 10k total). It was cloudy with a low ceiling, but this lake resembles lake McDonald in glacier national park.  Super clean and clear and rugged, steep mountains around.

That evening we cooked dinner in our apartment, preparing some much desired vegetables after the meat and potatoe heavy czech diet. While cooking dinner, we flipped on the tv in search of the Nordic ski jumping the local celebrity was competing in.  I scrolled through only to stumble upon the series of erotic channels provided, apparently as a part of the cable package.  We received the pleasure of Balkan Erotic, Red Xxx, and Hustler. We got some meat with our dinner after all.

The following day the clouds were supposed to break, so we planned a hike up a knoll over looking the lake and surrounding valleys. The hike took us through forest and alpine meadows. The clouds parted and we summited, gaining stunning views of the lake and the jagged Julian alps. The hike reminded me of summiting mount sentinal in missoula in distance and topography, although this hike was forested. At the summit there was a little cache with a ledger to sign and an ink stamp. We made our mark amongst the primarily Slovenian entries.  We had a mountain top picnic of pb&honey, carrots, hunk of cheese, oranges and coffee.

That evening I visited with our hosts to pay our bill and to hand over a load of laundry.  They sat me down at the table, poured me a glass of apple/pear brandy and chatted.  I was particularly interested in the wood stacks seen around the area and why the pieces were so long, about 3ft. They explained that the guys that process the wood up on the mountain prefer that length because there are less pieces. The wood is ultimately cut into thirds before it's brought in to burn. We also chatted about the lady's visit to Calgary Canada and how she dipped down into Montana through glacier park.  A small world, indeed!

A few minutes after returning up stairs she knocked on our door. She presented us with a new years gift of a plate of pavitica, fruit cake, and a bottle of wine. Such a generous offering.

That evening we cooked dinner in again and I proceeded to drink the wine. We caught a bus to Vogel around 8:30 where we hopped on the gondola. It was a huge car, holding the 15 or so of us comfortably. Could probably hold 30. Makese sense considering they only have 2 cars,one on each side of the track.

Europe hadn't received much snow at that point, so there was only one run open.  Also, because vogel is inside the national park, they are forbidden from making snow.

The party was in the bar, a semi circular glass building overlooking the lake and valley below. We sipped our drinks and watched the distant fire works. It was pretty low key early in the evening, and we decided to catch the cable car and subsequent bus scheduled right before midnight.  (The next ride wasn't until 2:30, and we weren't up for that late of a night.)

We counted down the new year in the cable car as it descended the steep cliffs.

As luck would have it, the bus that was timed to arrive with the gondola was driving away as we stepped off. Instead of waiting 2.5 hours for the next bus, we decided to walk/hitch hike. In all my years hitching rides after bar time, up and down the ski hill etc, I have always gotten picked up.  Every time.  I naturally assumed that would be the case this time too.  Especially because we were in a remote location and clearly we were just fellow partiers. Well, luck struck again for us in the wee hours of 2016, and no one picked us up.  So we walked the 5k all the way back.  Thankfully we had our headlamps, hats, gloves etc.

The following day was gorgeous out.  Blue bird, as they say.  Clare bummed her knee somewhere along our midnight hike so was feeling the need to recoup. I,feeling a little hung over, needed to recoup with activity. I chose a trail that lead from our back door up to the top of vogel,where the cable car lands. I didn't expect to make it the whole way because of its distance and time requirement,and I was alone, foreign country, pregnant wife worrying etc etc. So,  I said,  give me 3 hours and if I'm not back, you can worry then.  My plan was to hike up for 1.5 hours, then turn around.

The trail was steep, and I hiked as hard as I could.  I was breathing hard and my heart raced. The trail wasn't well worn, but was marked by regular blazes in the form of little red circles painted on the trees. So my mind was racing, too, as I constantly scanned for the next marker.

We found out that trail design and maintenance isn't what it is in the usa. Lots of erosion, few switch backs and generally ambiguous. All the fallen leaves didn't help, as they created a homogeneous forest floor.  Made me appreciate even more the hard work of conservation workers we have back home.  Americorp, montana conservation corp, etc etc who keep our vast trail system in great shape.

I hiked until the trail started getting snowy and icy, and made it about 2/3 to Vogel.  It was a great hike.

That evening we had an unremarkable meal at one of two restaurants in our little community.

In the morning frost covered everything, treating us with our first wintery scene of the trip. Feeling invigorated and with happy hearts, we ventured back to the bus stop with our sights on Croatia.

Happy New Year!

Prague Christmas 2015

Note: this was typed on a smartphone. Proofing etc etc not worth the effort.

Around mid day, we hopped on a train to Cologne, Germany. After a 5 hour layover, we boarded a sleeper train headed to Prague. We reserved "couchettes" which are 2nd class sleeping accommodations.  It was a 6 person berth, with three bunked planks on either side.  Clare and i had the middle bunks and our only berth mate, a lady who never spoke,  had the accommodation above me.  The trainline provided a sheet, blanket, and pillow.  It was surprisingly comfortable, and we slept pretty well.  In the morning we laid in bed and watched the Czech country side out the window.  Gorgeous.

We arrived at the main station in Prague, and navigated our way to our abode via metro and tram. After an (optimistic) navigational error took us down the hill in the wrong direction to our apartment, we corrected and climbed with our luggage the 5 blocks up the hill and were there.

We rented a place about 20 minutes outside of the city center on Airbnb. Five nights only cost us 200 bucks. Not only a great value (the place was really nice, spacious and clean - and half the price of the Amsterdam apartment), but also refreshing to be anchored outside of the tourist bubble. The city center was suprisingly busy. Not Amsterdam busy, annoying tourist busy.   I don't know if it's like that year round, or just in the summer and for Christmas in the winter.

We were hoping for a white Christmas when we decided on Prague a month ago, but it was more like mid September.  Sunny, mid 50s everyday. Spectacular weather.  Wish I had brought some shorts.

Prague was only the third European city I've visited, so it was hard not to compare with the other two (not counting Cologne, which was also annoyingly busy, at least what we saw.  And expensive.  Not planning a return trip).  For our honeymoon in August 2014, we visited Hungary, staying a week in Budapest and a week in the countryside. In the city, we visited some attractions, and 'took the waters.' We took the waters on multiple occasions, as it were. Beautiful, old,  ornate Turkish baths. In the countryside, we rode bicycles to wineries and ate in charming hillside cafés. Can you say goose liver pate? It was fantastic.  We then spent a quick couple of nights in Amsterdam, motivating our return this year, rounding out the 3 cities.

Prague and Budapest are pretty similar in ways; they are both on large rivers and they both have large castle complexes on the hillside. I'd return to Budapest in a heartbeat, and likely won't visit Prague again.

The blogosphere asserts that "everything worth seeing in Prague can be accomplished in a day and a half." I don't know where these people live, but I pity them because they have likely long exhausted "everything worth seeing" there. But, alas, it's probably the amenities, activities, restaurants, community, friends and family those towns offer that keep their interests piqued. Things that can also be experienced while traveling.

Clare and I have been traveling together a long time (look back through the archives of this blog to hear about it), and figured out immediately that we seek the same types of experiences. We shoot from the hip, don't like itineraries, seek good local food, like to be active and engage with whatever the unique thing of the place might be. If we find something we enjoy, we do it,  and then move on when we are done.  Sometimes we miss a few "must sees", but we are usually satisfied. It's your vacation, your money, and your time.  Do what you want.

Prague is a beautiful historic city bisected by the Vltava river. The city center only seems to function as a tourist attraction. And draw the tourists it does. All the restaurants, all the shops, everything, are like a garden of Venus fly traps, gobbling up the buzzing tourists. The historic sites, like sweet flowers, are scattered about.

We paced ourselves on this leg. After a pretty busy week in Amsterdam, we looked forward to recouping. We are in a marathon here, Clare is getting bigger by the day.  Supposedly gaining a pound per week at this stage.

The first day we spent the afternoon lounging on the couch, reading, writing, and enjoying our new space. We ventured out for dinner and found a great place in our neighborhood. In case you haven't heard, the Czech folks like beer. It's served in giant half liter mugs with a thick frothy head. And it's cheap, about 30 krown. I drank at least two of these with every lunch and dinner.

The following day was Christmas Eve. We went to the historic Old Town Square,the site of one of many Christmas markets. We arrived before noon, so it was comfortably bustling, but not crowded.  I drank hot spiced red wine, ate a giant kolbasa (pro tip: the extra long sausage is put in the bun 'upside down' so the ends are curved down rather than up, then they smack the middle of the sausage with their tongs to make the thing lie flat in the bun), fresh potatoe chips and Clare enjoyed a trdelnik, a traditional pastry treat. Dough is wrapped around a wide dowel and cooked over an open fire, then rolled in sugar and nuts. Yum.

The crafts and crap for sale at the market really weren't very interesting, so we didn't buy anything.

We had known that Prague kind of shuts down for the holidays, so we were a little anxious about where we would eat dinner outside of an over priced tourist trap. We decided to search for a place near our apartment. 

(All restaurants in Czech Republic are sponsored by one of the large breweries and thus display that breweries sign out front.  The better restaurants are sponsored by Pilsner Urquell, the largest brewery. See beer sign, find restaurant. This is discussed in greater detail on a fantastic blog maintained by a Canadian expat, www.pragueczechtravel.com)

We encountered mostly shuttered places, but stumbled upon a little mom and pop hotel with the tell tale Pilsner sign out front.  The restaurant was serving a fixed menu of traditional grub. We walked in and they sat us right away. It was 4 courses, a quinoa salad casserole thing, fish soup, fried cod with potatoe salad and an apple strudel ala mode for dessert. It was a great, cosy, experience. The food, meh.

On Christmas day, we visited the Markets in Wencelas Square, hoping for something different. Well, turns out, all the Christmas markets are the same, selling the exact same food and exact same trinkets. Oh well. We had some more street fare and wandered around town. That night there was a couple restaurants in our neighborhood open, so we had dinner in a smoky bar, before the big Christmas concert!

We got front row balcony seats at Dvorak Hall in the Rudolfinum. It was a fantastic concert. So good, in fact, that I fell asleep during the first act. It was so cosy! (Not to mention the liter of beer i had with dinner, the Jager shot as we passed through a Market by the metro, another half liter at the bar around the corner from the venue and the glass of champagne inside the venue.)

The following day we walked up to the castle complex and looked around, it was very castley. There were so many people that we opted not to wait in line to go in. We then walked back down the hill and across the famed St Charles bridge. There were a million people. It was hard to appreciate, but apparently it's always like that. We then walked along the river for a few miles to the old forgotten castle and oldest building in Prague. It was nice and there were significantly less people around to get in my way and annoy me.

That night we had another mediocre meal with copious amounts of beer.  So much meat and potatoes!

The next day was our last full day, so we got up early to tackle our chores. We needed to mail a package back to the USA and buy train tickets to get out of town.  We went to the main post office, and when our number was called, we proceeded to play charades with the teller. I think it was successful. We got a box, wrote our address on it,  she lent us tape! and wet paid. We'll see. We then bought train tickets to Slovenia for the next morning. After so much productivity, we grabbed lunch at a highly regarded Vietnamese place, Remember. We got some vegetables and were happy. We found a good restaurant blog to guide our last couple meals now that things were opening back up.

We spent the afternoon touring the old jewish synagogues and cemetery. The cemetery was unlike anything i have seen before. Bodies buried 12 deep and tombstones haphazardly crammed everywhere they could fit. No orderly rows here, folks. It was intense.

For our last dinner, we ate at Ukurelu, an up scale ish bar/restaurant.  It was decent. The food and drink in Prague were very inexpensive, so it was a nice change of pace from Amsterdam.

Overall we had a nice time.  It was relatively inexpensive and offered a nice opportunity to take it easy. We spread out the day and a half of stuff 'worth seeing' over the week and it was a great pace. I couldn't imagine cramming all that in so quickly.  The number of tourists really detracts from the experience, so spreading it out was nice. We were hoping for cooler weather and more of a Christmas atmosphere that would result. Drinking hot wine in 50 degrees and sunny just didn't quite live up to its potential.

The next morning we caught a 7 o'clock train to Vienna in route to Slovenia.

Peace, y'all, and happy new year.

Amsterdam December 2015

Note: this was typed on a smartphone. Proofing etc etc not worth the effort. 

Stepping out into the hustle and bustle, we were reminded of a lesson learned quickly upon a visit to Amsterdam; look in every direction, and then look again before crossing. ..anything.  There will likely be a tram,  a bus, a scooter,  a stream of bikes and a mess if people, coming from all directions simultaneously.

We were a little road weary when we arrived after leaving Sawbill at 7 am (16th) in a blizzard, the day before. In true sawbill fashion, we had to do some errands on the way to the airport.  So after Clare got her 20 week ultrasound, we were on our way.   We flew from Thunder Bay to Toronto to Amsterdam.  Actually, a pretty direct route from the End of the Trail to the world hub that is Amsterdam. We didn't get much sleep on the flight, however, so we were a little jet lagged. We arrived at our apartment we rented on Airbnb in the Oud West neighborhood at about noon (17th) and the vacation was on.

That afternoon while walking around our neighborhood,  we stumbled across a permanent indoor food court type thing called The Foodhallen. It was a collection of stands surrounding a few central bars. Eat what you want,  drink what you want,  sit wherever you want.  Pretty fun.  We got a falafel plate.  Yum.

The following day,  we ventured over to Albert Cuypmarkt, a large open air walking market,  selling a variety of crap. I bought a pair of tulip slippers which are a fine addition to my travel attire.  There is a great mid east/north Africa restaurant in the area,  Bazar, that came recommended by our friends John and Kim.  We had a shared plate of lots of yummy hummus and bread and such.

In keeping with the theme,  that night we ate at an Ethiopian restaurant. With our hands.  No silverware. Just using injarra, a traditional spongy flat bread. It was great tasting and a great new experience.  Thankfully they provide toilet paper and soap,  so we didn't have to be mindful about which hand to eat with.

The following morning we did a cheese tasting at Reypenaer. Six cheeses paired with wine.  I drank Clare's.  Did you know,  the Dutch copyrighted gouda cheese in 2010. It is simply defined as being made with pasteurized  cow milk and shaped in a large wheel. The Dutch eat on average over 20kgs/person annually.

We then stumbled into a haphazard  bookstore in the red light district. Piles of books,  stacks askew,  in search of some reading material that I forgot to pack. I picked up a vintage copy of Kurt Vonnegut Hocus Pocus. I don't typically read fiction, but this seemed an appropriate choice given the circumstances. 

A couple notes about the red light district: 

   -Yes you should visit it, no it's not weird. (even with kids, at least in the day time)

   -It's one of the most sought after and expensive places to live in the city.  Very safe with very nice restaurants, bakeries, shops and nightlife. 

   -During the day its just a nice neighborhood.  At night, the curtains open and red lights come on in the various windows scattered about.  

   -You will see what appear to be lingerie models of all shapes, sizes and ethnicity.  You might see dildos in some store windows. Blush.

   -On Saturday evening at 5, take a tour with the Prostitute Information Center. 

   -There is an open air,  free,  private urinal.  A little gross, but so handy and practical! 

The day was capped with an evening boat tour through the canal to view the festival of lights; 35 unique displays around the city. We took in the tour from the back of the boat, outside of the cabin.  It was much more comfortable than our seats crammed in a booth with a family and their small child kicking us under the table.  Certainly a highlight of the trip.

The following day, in route to visiting Anne Frank's House,  we swung by the Red Wing Shoes store in the 9 straats. Amsterdamians claim that Williamsburg strives to be as cool as the 9 straats. Ya. So,  Red Wings are pretty hip,  yall.  They didn't seem to care that we hailed from Minnesota, tho.

We waited in the obligatory hour long line to visit the Anne Frank House. It's quite the experience to be in the house, pass through the secret door  (with the original obscuring book case in place) and see, smell, feel, the smallness and darkness they hunkered down in for 2 years. ..only to end up in auschwitz anyway,  and Anne dying. Her dad, who survived the concentration camp, later said that he and Anne had a great relationship, got along well and conversed all the time. He said, however, after reading her diary, he realized he hadn't  known his daughter at all. (Insight few will glean in their lives, but certainly something  we can all chew on)   Anyway, visiting the House was especially poignant in light of the current calls for religious oppression and bigotry flaring up in the USA. I bought a copy of the book and I intend to (re)read. 

So as not to show preference to any one group, we immediately toured the Ons Lieve Op Solder, a catholic church hidden in the attic of a canal house.  In the 17th century,  Amsterdam became a protestant city,  forcing other practices under ground (or into the attic). This was a super interesting place.  It was a normal house with folks living in it,  with the three top floors converted into an extravagant  (as they do) church. As recently as 2013, they completed an excavation of a cess pit (read privy hole) under the house. It contained all sorts of old pots and pans and pottery that had been tossed.  All on display.  Pretty neat. This was another great recomendation from John and Kim. Thanks!

To round the night out,  we had dinner (again per John and Kim) at Lieve, a multi course Belgian place with beer pairing for each round. Quite tasty, fun atmosphere and extravagant etched flatware. On the way home it rained for the first time on the trip.  We had seriously perfect weather for this time of year!

Our last full day we traded our tram passes for bikes and spent the day cruising the city.  I was getting a little anxious that I was nearing the end of my second Amsterdam trip and hadn't ridden yet. We spent the whole day in the saddle, euphoric, traversing the city (Clare barely dodged triggering early labor on those cobblestones, but I assure you it was worth it).  What a treat to ride in a busy urban area catered to bikes. When it looked dicey, we took solace in watching the little kid, without a helmet, bobbling in his little yellow galoshes, perched on the back of his mom's bike.

While Amsterdam has an extensive public transportation system, we didn't know it well enough to avoid walking a fair amount. Surprisingly, the route guides are not simple to follow.  No universal 'line with stops in chronological order' graphic to be found here, folks. It was nice to be on a bike, give our feet a rest and be able to meander without over exertion. Did I mention my wife is pregnant? 

It was entertaining to visit John and Kim's former address and bounce around their old haunts.  They lived in Amsterdam for 6 years prior to moving to Missoula (by way of Chicago). They gave us a list of great recommendations that we were unable to do on our quick visit during our honeymoon.  We held onto that list and it served as our guide this time around. Almost as fun as having them there with us!

Our last night in the city was greatly anticipated.  We had reservations at the acclaimed Tempo Doeloe. An Indonesian "rice table" is an Amsterdam treat,  and this is one of the best.  The meal of small plates in increasing spicy were quite tasty,  however did not culminate in the super spicy warned by the menu and John. I was a little sad,  and let down. When I was done,  I asked the waiter if he could bring a small plate of something really spicy. He said,  be back in 2 minutes. He returned with 2 dishes and said I would cry and hoped I had life insurance.  Now we were talking. This stuff was the real deal; a ginger pork dish and a cardamom lamb dish. Both outrageous in flavor and spice.  I struggled, it was spicy as hell, and my stomach was really full.  Not a good combo, but I had to finish it all. Afterward,  we had the ice cream and tropical fruit.

What a great week. Amsterdam is the best.

The next morning we caught a sleeper train to Prague to spend Christmas.

Merry Christmas and many Cheers!