I didn't have internet for my computer in Dubrovnik, so I'm writing this on TextEdit as I hurdle through the Hungarian countryside on the 15.45 train from Zagreb - Gl. Kol. to Budapest - Kaleti. We are currently stopped at Balatonszentyorgy, which just happens to be my favorite type of orgy. My passport is getting awesomer by the day. The EU has these great stamps that have the country in the upper left, surrounded by EU stars, the point of entry/departure in the bottom middle, and on the upper right, a picture of your mode of transportation. So I have these cute "leaving Slovenia via train" and "entering Hungary via train" stamps now. This, as I see it, is the main advantage of Croatia not being a member of the European Union.
Natalie and I made the trek to Dubrovnik on Monday, training out of Ljubljana early in the morning, walking for twenty minutes through (shockingly gorgeous) Zagreb to the bus station, bussing to the airport, flying fifty-five minutes to Dubrovnik, bussing a half hour to Pile Gate and walking to our hostel, where the lovely Marko greeted and oriented us. We walked the city walls, which is the best thing to do in Dubrovnik, for two reasons. First, the views of the Old City are just gorgeous.
Yes, I count Natalie and myself among the gorgeous views.
Second, it gets you just a little bit out of the tourist hell that is Dubrovnik. Everyone walks the city walls, but not everyone walks them at the same time (largely because not everyone has Marko to tell them that approximately 8 am and 5 pm are the best times to walk them). The streets below, on the other hand, manage to (barely) hold every tourist in Europe at once. There isn't a square inch inside the Old City that isn't devoted to squeezing money out of tourists. This leads to an incredible proliferation of Dubrovnik/Croatia gear, which I don't really mind, especially since I couldn't find a single decent-looking Ljubljana t-shirt in Ljubljana. But it also leads to "fun" offensive gear that makes Manhattan's "New York Fuckin' City" shirts look like something Anne O'Hagen would wear.*
We actually saw a kid wearing the shirt on the left. As you know, I'm not a big fan of criticizing parents, but I could hardly object to the long glare Natalie gave the boy's mother.
Despite the overwhelming tourism, we managed to do cool things. We went to the second oldest synagogue in Europe, founded in 1642 and located on the appropriately named "Ulica Žudioska," i.e., "Jew Street." (Greg, I fully expect you to start writing a song with the chorus, "I'm moving up, I'm moving out, I'm moving to Jew Street: Jew Street, U.S.A!") The synagogue was awfully nice, and it was cool to see some cool historical documents, including parallel orders from the 16th and 20th Centuries ordering the Jews of Dubrovnik to wear self-identifying badges. I guess what constitutes a "cool" historical document is up for debate.
We also did some serious beaching. Here, Natalie informs me in the only way she can that there are fish in the water.
And yesterday we did Adriatic Kayak Tours' "Wine & Cheese Sunset Paddle" from Sv. Jakov's beach around the Old City, out to Lokrum island for a picnic, and back to the beach. My left arm is pathetically sore, and Natalie and I got showed up not only by Jon, a red-bearded Scotsman and experienced kayaker, but also by a younger-side-of-middle-aged British couple. The kayaking was fun, though, and the views were, of course, stunning. My camera was in a dry bag while we were kayaking, so I didn't get any pictures then. But I did take a few on the island, featuring the peacocks that roamed free there, this gorgeous natural lake and cave in the middle of the island, and our guide Vedral(?) in front of the Adriatic.
When we got back to the beach, the sun was just setting over the Old City.
Today has been another travel day. Natalie and I parted ways in Zagreb; she's heading back to Ljubljana for the night before flying into JFK tomorrow, while I head to Budapest to see pretty buildings, eat goulash, and relax in those famous Hungarian baths. I hope to be able to update live from the big city.
UPDATE: Live, from the big city! I hadn't been in Budapest for 25 minutes when I was slammed with a 6000 Forint ($32) fine for failing to get my ticket stamped as I entered the subway (irrespective of lack of signs, subway staff, or sample riders to indicate otherwise). Curse you, Hungary!
*Sorry; little joke for the small groupies there. Anne was our always impeccably-dressed TA.
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