About a week ago, we decided it was time to buy plane tickets to Istanbul. Turkey was one of the only places we had decided to visit before leaving the US. Now, it was just a matter of where the cheapest flights to Istanbul departed from. Turns out the answer was Venice. And I can’t lie, the chance to return to the beautiful city where I spent three months during college, this time with Meghan, was too enticing to pass up. So after an early bus ride from Ljubljana to Mestre, the city on the mainland just outside of Venice, and another bus ride to Piazza Roma in Venice proper, we found ourselves standing in front of Pizza Al Volo in Campo Santa Margherita…and the memories came flooding back.

In the summer and fall of 2002, after my junior year at UC San Diego, I traveled to Europe. I spent three months backpacking around a number of different countries, and three months living in Venice, a city I’ve had a mild obsession with ever since junior high. Despite the fact that Venice is mostly a city of tourists, by staying in an apartment, bartending in a pub, taking Venitian rowing lessons, developing daily routines, and making and spending time with close friends, I felt a little more like a local. The experience, overall, was one of the most transformative of my life at the time, and I cherish my memories from Venice.

I took a month-long Italian language course when I first arrived in Venice, and the majority of my close friendships were developed in this class. The language school was right next to Campo Santa Margherita, and virtually every day for lunch, we’d head to Pizza Al Volo for, what I remember as, the greatest pizza ever made. A big slice of thin, Italian pizza with the perfect ratio of sauce, cheese, and toppings would be re-heated in their pizza oven to crisp up the bottom to just the right level of crunch and chewiness. It was a must do, but it took me by surprise when Meghan and I had to request our slices be re-heated in the oven. And, the pizza itself, while still delicious, didn’t quite live up to what I remembered. Of course, it’s been 13 years of culinary adventures in the meantime, and perhaps my expectations were just a bit too high 🙂

Luckily, this was one of the only experiences that didn’t live up to my memories. From the narrow, winding streets with colorful laundry strung outside second floor windows, to the small dinghies tied up along the canals, to the glittering reflection of the “street” lights that come up out of the Grand Canal, Venice was as beautiful and romantic as I remember it. We took a late night Vaporetto (water bus) ride down the Grand Canal, and though the price-increase since 2002 was disappointing, the gorgeous views of the palaces and the magic of Venice at night was certainly still present in abundance. We also had a fun experience trying to find my favorite bridge in Venice. Unfortunately, I have no photo of the bridge, so all we had to go on was my very vague sense of where it might be and our memories of a painting of the bridge, that Lizzie, my amazing girlfriend while I was in Venice, painted for me. The painting is currently boxed up in a storage unit with all the rest of our stuff, but the following picture may be it. I particularly remember the light of the lantern reflecting off the canal under the bridge.

Meghan often jokes with/chides me about my lack of picture taking when traveling…and for good reason. During my six months in Europe in 2002, I think I took a total of 50 pictures. It’s not that I don’t want to take pictures, and I certainly enjoy having them and looking back at them later. My mind usually just doesn’t think about taking them. And given how bad my memory is for most things, it’s a shame I never got into the habit. So on our first day in Venice, we tried to right this wrong. What follows are the obligatory photos of me in front of 1) Pizza Al Volo, 2) the Irish pub where I worked, it changed names (and owners) in 2009, RIP Fiddler’s Elbow, and 3) the door to my old apartment near Campo San Stefano. 

The bartender at the Irish Pub remembered the old managers I had worked for, and kindly gave Meghan and I the employee discount on our drinks. It felt great to sit inside the pub and reminisce on what I still consider the best job I’ve ever had.

We also visited Olandese Volante, the bar where one of my good friends had worked with a hysterical cast of local characters that became one of our favorite watering holes. Unfortunately, I think the location, near a main tourist thoroughfare, may have been its undoing, and now it looks like just a tourist-trap restaurant without an Italian in sight (not even working there). Since this was Meghan’s first time in Venice, we joined the tourist parade and made the obligatory trip to St. Mark’s square. Meghan was blown away by the scope and grandeur of the square, and after seeing many of the enormous, ornate churches on this small, island city, one can’t help but be amazed at the wealth of the old Venetian empire.

Over the course of this one, long day, we retraced the memories from my three month stay 13 years ago. On our second day, we explored some unfamiliar areas to me via an excellent walking tour with a local guide. The tour highlights included learning some of the fascinating history of Venetian Gothic architecture, walking through some wonderful, un-touristy neighborhoods, and taking a 2-Euro traghetto/gondola ride across the Grand Canal (definitely the cheapest way to ride a gondola in Venice…of course, it’s only 70 cents for locals).

While another memorable pizza place (tastier than Pizza Al Volo) necessitated our attendance for dinner the first night, our second night Meghan was pretty set on trying black, squid-ink pasta: a first for both of us. It was a comedy of errors and a couple miles of walking trying to find a restaurant that served that dish, had a table available, and had decent online reviews. Hungry, tired, wet from rain, and having our fourth restaurant attempt foiled, we were almost resigned to getting a doner kebab, the ubiquitous fast-food in apparently all of central Europe. Finally, we passed a nice looking place with an open table and plopped down exhausted. We were very pleased with our experience: the squid-ink pasta was definitely one for the books. It tasted like nothing we had ever had before…and we loved it!

Overall, Venice was as amazing as I remember it, and the magical feeling of the city came back almost at once. I felt very blessed to be able to share these places and moments from my past with Meghan, making new memories along the way.

The story of our travels through Slovenia is really a story of desserts. We had planned on it being a story of hiking (with just a few desserts sprinkled in) as many people highly recommended we go to the Julian Alps. But the stormy weather showed us the error of our plans and thankfully pointed us to many sweet alternatives. We still haven’t seen the Julian Alps, so thick was the blanket of clouds covering them even as we stood at their base. But, Slovenia has proven to be our sweetest country yet.

Desserts began our first day in the mountain town of Bled where we padded our tummies with a good base layer of hiking food – the famous Bled cream cake (named after the town) and a chocolate hedgehog – before setting out to attempt a four day hut-to-hut trek through the mountains. Bad weather forced us to a cafe for beers on our way to the trail. Worse weather and the promise of more worse weather cancelled our hiking plans and kept us in Bled.

Thankfully, we got to do some walking in beautiful areas and visit an interesting museum devoted to beekeeping and another to traditional gingerbread making. And of course, in Slovenia all paths lead to dessert. Thus, we continued our confectionery indulgence with an enormous hot chocolate and chocolate crepes after our hike to a beautiful gorge, and Linhart cake and pineapple ice cream (served in a pineapple!) after our walk to the beekeeping museum. 

We were already anticipating desserts in Ljubljana as our guidebook actually mentioned a few places worth exploring. Tour guides on our food tour and city tour (two of the best tours we’ve had so far on our travels) both recommended their favorite ice cream shops, adding to our list. Ljubljana delights were tasted while meandering along the beautiful riverfront walk, exploring the vast outdoor market, or sipping cappuccinos at a chic cafe. Cakes, cookies, ice cream, and chocolates gave us a wonderful taste of the city’s sweets. Of course, between those tastes were other wonderful dishes and doses of Slovenian history and culture as well.

It is all good and well to sample a country’s sweets, but a few pieces of cake and a couple ice cream cones don’t really necessitate theming a whole blog post. A whole festival devoted to sweets, however, does. The highlight of our sweet Slovenia extravaganza – and, I might add, the event around which we planned all our time in Slovenia – was a day trip to the coastal town of Koper where the weekend festivities focused around the Sweet Istria festival. Doesn’t that sound enticing? Actually, we were quite skeptical. Very few people seemed to know about this festival. Even the tourist information office in Ljubljana reacted with, “Well, I got some email flier about it. I don’t really know.” Hmm. We decided to go for a day anyway, because how could we pass up a festival whose program specifically included a “Land of Chocolate?” We kept our expectations low, like, glorified elementary school bake sale low.

And, perhaps partly due to our expectations of finding a handful of booths operated by 5th graders, we were blown away by what we actually found. There were 500 sweets presented for tasting from over 100 vendor tents (all run by the well over 10 years old crowd) winding along the streets and covering a few town squares along the coast. The organizers recommended 8 tasting tickets per person (at 50 cents each, with each taste costing 1-2 tickets). We found 12 to be a more optimal amount, though 8 would probably be plenty if you were already planning a visit to the diabetes testing tent (no joke).

Tastes were described as 1-2 bites of a sweet. But, I’ve never been able to eat an entire dulce de leche filled croissant or seven heavenly fried donut holes in one or two bites. These were not tastes, friends; these were full desserts. A taste was what you were given if you weren’t sure you wanted to spend a coupon on something, and the vendor was certain that you should. Additionally, you could buy a larger portion of something for a few euros. After sampling several delicious desserts, we bought sweet pizza for lunch. In our defense, we initially thought the pizza was one of the few savory items around. Ha! Live and learn.

Sweets workshops (we took the chocolate tasting one even though it was delivered in Slovenian), a kids program, street performers, and a stage for bands rounded out the festivities. Epic dessert festival, friends. Epic.

Of course, I have to admit, now, as we come to the end of our clearly epic sweet Slovenia extravaganza, that our favorite find was not sweet at all, though it was used in a few desserts (and they were delicious). Our favorite new taste was pumpkin seed oil. Go. Find some… probably at Whole Foods. Try using it as a replacement for olive oil for dipping bread, or in a salad dressing. We loved its distinct, nutty flavor and vowed to include it in our list of future pantry essentials. Slovenia may be the land of sweets, but it is dripping with pumpkin seed oil, and we loved every drop!

Our post-sailing time in Croatia was filled with so many awesome experiences we just can’t hold back from sharing them. Almost all of them. Enough of them that I’d recommend pouring yourself a glass of wine and finding a nice shady spot to unwind while you read.

If you don’t have the time, here’s the TL;DR (Too Long Didn’t Read / synopsis) version:
Walking the Dubrovnik walls was jaw dropping, and the non-touristy beach coves are where we could be found the rest of the time. Split = Roman palace ruins of fantastic proportion. Plitvice was wonderful hiking and waterfall mania. Rovinj, our favorite place, provided scootering to truffles, indulging our tastebuds, sauntering down winding old streets, and kayaking on rough seas.

And now for the extended version:

Dubrovnik

We have to offer a big thanks to Coreen Callister for setting us on the right path to truly enjoying our time in Dubrovnik. You see, the beauty of the old city, fully pedestrian and surrounded by massive stone walls, is surpassed only by the craziness of the tourist mob scene that descends on it each day. Thanks to Coreen’s advice and list of must-dos, we were able to plan around the mob and love our time in Dubrovnik. More specifically, we walked the city walls early in the day, getting lots of beautiful views and pictures mostly to ourselves before having to throw elbows to make it fully around through the other tourists. We took a couple to the ribs ourselves by the end. Fair’s fair, of course. One fascinating piece of walking the walls (aside from the simple fact that you’re walking along ancient architectural amazingness) is the views of the rooftops of the old city. The color of the tiles on the different roofs (varying from yellow to bright red) is a telltale sign of whether or not the building was hit during the 1991-1992 attack on Dubrovnik. Newer, bright red tiles were typically used to repair damaged roofs.

 

We also spent a wonderful evening wandering the streets of the old city, sticking largely to less populated streets and enjoying the magic of the ancient evening. We enjoyed just a few ice cream cones, our favorite being Dolce Vita. And finally, we spent the early afternoons, the height of tourist mob madness, reading our books and sipping beers in the shade of a couple of the less populated coves. We hadn’t realized we needed further unwinding after the week of sailing, but we took it on gladly anyway!

Split

Where Dubrovnik feels designed for tourists, Split is still a real city. There’s lots to appreciate for a tourist, but one could also plunk down here for awhile and easily avoid the tourism. We spent just a day and an evening here, hanging out with a couple of German girls at an “American” bar (owned by a guy from Detroit/Baltimore) and enjoying a long stroll through the old town center and along the harbor. The old town consists of Diocletian’s roman palace as well as the newer, but still really old, city that built up around it. The roman ruins are awe inspiring and still well enough intact that we easily got the sense of the immensity and grandeur of the place. And to top off the experience, Diocletian made an appearance through the main palace entryway following a slew of ceremonial dressed roman soldiers. He does a funny routine of welcoming his “guests” and demanding obedience. Far funnier now than it was in third century.

After his appearance, we passed through the entryway and were greeted by an amazing a cappella group doing a few traditional Croatian songs. We stayed for awhile getting lost in their beautiful harmonizing before heading on our last excursion for the day, climbing the mound just north of downtown. We were really craving a bit of exercise and had less than an hour before our bus left, so we charged out of old town and up through lovely old neighborhoods into a beautiful park. We enjoyed a few brief views of the city and the sea then literally ran back down to make sure we caught our bus. And thus after our short time in Split, we split lickety split!

Plitvice

Croatia’s waterfall wonderland instills as many emotions as it does amazing views. One moment you are standing in awe and tranquility as yet another waterfall you were certain only existed in fairytales splashes before you. And the next you’re jerked back to socially awkward reality as thirty tourists at once squeeze around you to snap photos and experience their own, awed, tranquil moment.

Thanks to our guidebook and a couple friends’ advice, we spent fairly little time in the tourist maze… just enough, in fact, to fully appreciate every other moment we spent with more than 6 inches of personal space around us.

First, we got there early (and if we went again, I’d try to get there even earlier). This is Disneyland Croatia style, and you’re either first in the gate, or you’re spending hours watching people from the line. We were there early enough to fully enjoy most of the waterfalls without a ton of other people around.

Second, we found other hiking trails away from the waterfalls that were truly tranquil. Yes, the waterfalls are amazing and the reason we, and everyone else, went to the park. But, we had also hoped for a day of hiking, and Plitvice is not really set up for that. The park has one, main, fairly short path (and a couple higher cliffside paths) that winds you along a boardwalk (literally wide enough for one line of people heading up single file and another line heading down single file… all snapping pictures) past most of the best views. After a couple hours of slow walking and picture-taking, you’ve gawked at just about all of it – not the place to go for a hike.

So we asked the tourist information office about other hikes, and they were completely unhelpful, telling us there were no other trails. But just outside their office is a large map with around 20 miles of trails that reach out into the forests around the park. Clearly they are not encouraging tourists to take these paths… maybe because there are no waterfalls along them? Maybe because they don’t want to encourage the masses to crowd these trails too? We’re not sure, but we’re really glad they don’t, because we saw only four other people in 5-6 miles of walking through beautiful forest, past stones that made us think of the Marble Mountains, through a meadow and past a herd of sheep grazing, and finally past a beautiful picnic area set up next to a functioning waterwheel in a brook. (I’m calling it a brook because it’s the only word that conjures up the level of adorable countryside this scene deserved.) This hike also ends at one of the higher tourist trails where there are more lookouts galore to get some beautiful views of the falls from above.

It was glorious and invigorating, and by the time we descended back to the main path to then return to the bus stop, we caught the full force of the tourist mob scene, just to make us even more appreciative of our early morning waterfall and afternoon forest hiking experiences.

Rovinj

This was our favorite. Seriously, we plan to go back here. For maybe a full couple weeks. Or a month. Or all of retirement. Rovinj sits on Croatia’s northern coast in the region of Istria. Istria is known for three things: wine, olive oil, and truffles (the mushrooms, not the chocolate). Have you booked your flights here yet? No? I’ll wait while you go do that.

Oh good, your back. Allow me to elaborate so you can get even more excited about going to Rovinj.

First, simply wandering through old town is delightful and romantic. The polished cobblestone streets wind in the way of urban planners’ nightmares, begging you to explore each alley and every corner. And usually you’ll find beautiful old apartments, small art galleries, quaint wine shops, or a perfectly positioned cafe or restaurant serving delectable Istrian delights. We enjoyed an evening of wine tasting at one of these cafes, sitting outside on a quaint square while being serenaded by a street musician and dining on olives and bread.

Second, visiting the inland areas, the seat of truffle heaven, is a must. Doing so by motor scooter makes it all the more exciting. This marked Brian’s first ever experience on a two-wheeled motorized vehicle as well as driving in another country (a great first combo…), and I think he liked it. Of course it took a little getting used to, and I can’t say he was exactly smiling the whole time as I couldn’t see his face from my back seat position… though I am fairly certain that once the sun went down and we weren’t yet safely parked back at home he was definitely not smiling. But overall he was pretty thrilled with it all, and so was I.

Motor scooter is a really fun way to explore the countryside, and it was nice to stop where and when we wanted. We visited a lovely off the beaten path restaurant for a lunch of truffle madness and the best prosciutto either of us has ever had (maybe even more revelational than the truffles). We stopped in at a fully on the beaten path truffle shop where we sampled and then bought some truffled cheese and a couple truffled chocolate truffles, both absolutely delicious. And we made our last stop for the day a beautiful hilltop town for a walk, a drink, and a bit more truffle tasting, picking up a bottle of honeyed brandy with truffles for a later treat.

Kayaking around the archipelago just off Rovinj was our last big adventure in Istria. We hadn’t signed up for the kayaking tour with the intent of having an adventure so much as just wanting to see the area in a different way and get a bit of exercise in the process. I mean, we signed up for a tour. We didn’t just rent kayaks and throw them in the water (though next time we might do just that). But mother nature and culture had other intentions.

We waited at the tour office for our guides. Around the appointed time, a van showed up. No greetings were exchanged, but someone said, “Get in the van.” In we went where we met another couple of equally gullible tourists hoping as we were that this van would take us to kayaking. We drove briefly and silently through the town before plunging into the forest…. and thankfully emerging next to a small cove where the kayaks were stored.

Instruction(s) were given: Put everything in the dry bag and close it properly. Warnings were given: The sea is very rough since a storm is coming tomorrow. It will get worse as we paddle out. Also, there is a very strong current that will pull your boat (towards the rocks, it turns out). And then we were off! Thankfully Brian and I are expert kayakers. Oh wait, no we’re not. The sea was rough. The current was strong. And we definitely got stuck in it all to the point that Bobo (our guide who was way ahead of us) had to come back to help us. Help consisted of him calling out the strokes as we paddled and responding when Brian mentioned how strongly our boat was being pulled with, “Yes. I told you that.”

A couple hours and about 8 km of arm and shoulder burning paddling later, we arrived at our rest stop. We – especially Brian, because if we’re really honest, he was the engine of our tiny craft – were immensely relieved to not only be resting, but also to learn that our rest stop was just a 15 minute paddle from the end of our tour. Being given no plan at the beginning of the tour, we had no idea when our breaks would come, how many we would get, or how long we still had left to paddle until that moment. I think we did a touchdown victory dance when we learned we might make it through the entire day without needing hospitalization for our arms and backs. Our guides, who had been pretty much silent until then, gave us a tour of the small island. Lunch and snorkeling off a small beach followed before we jumped stumbled back into the kayaks and rowed home, sticking close to our guides to avoid the fishing boats crossing through the final channel. So maybe we won’t be signing up for many more kayaking tours (and we’d advise against it in all but very calm water). But some of it was in fact fun. And, on a calm day, I can see how we may have even thoroughly enjoyed it.

Our last day was spent mostly inside due to stormy weather. We grazed through our Istrian snacks and found ourselves already reminiscing about the wonderful days we spent in Croatia. But we head to the Julian Alps next for a bit more hut to hut hiking!

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Before our trip, whenever we spoke with people about visiting Croatia, we almost always heard the same thing: “You’ll love it! Are you going sailing?” Clearly, visiting the islands off the Croatian coast is one of the major attractions of this tourism-focused country, and one we didn’t want to miss out on. However, given our goal of not planning too much of our world travel adventure in advance, we only started researching possible options about a week before arriving in Croatia. And we can honestly say that we were incredibly lucky to find Get Away Sailing (highly recommend), and incredibly lucky that they had one final cabin available in their flotilla of five boats. Most of the other folks on the trip had booked at least a couple months in advance. We should also note for any consistent readers of our blog that our unfortunate bout of “travelers tummy” in Budapest and Zagreb had fully left us when we came to the beautiful waters of the Adriatic.

We made our way down to the marina in the city of Dubrovnik, which sits at the southern end of the Croatian coast. We met our team, one other couple from Great Britain and one from Scotland, and chatted lightly while awaiting instructions. Our first “team-building” task was buying food for breakfasts and lunches. We passed this test with flying colors as everyone agreed on similar, healthy food options. Again it felt like we had lucked out, this time with the awesome group of people on our boat. It seems this sailing company has a knack for attracting friendly people, and we seemed to hit it off well with virtually everyone on the flotilla. Besides our “couples” boat, there were three other boats of friendly Aussies and Brits, and one boat of hysterical, party-animal Norwegians. The Norwegians drank everyone else under the table, partied til the wee hours of the morning, and still seemed to be raring to go when we sailed off each morning. Oh, and they were all at least 10-30 years older then us.

In my mind, the top highlight from this trip was our daily routine. We’d wake up on the earlier side, follow the amazing Captain Jack in a casual yoga routine, then maybe go for a morning dip in the Adriatic. We’d follow this with a delicious breakfast of coffee/tea, yogurt, fruit, granola and honey, sail or motor to a quiet island cove, and take our first or second swim of the day, swimming to the shore to relax there or relaxing on the boat. Lunch was sandwiches and salads along with an afternoon beer, and we’d play cards or read books while continuing to sail toward a late afternoon swimming spot or into the next Harbor. After a beautiful sunset, evening brought an exceptional dinner at a local restaurant with the rest of our flotilla, drinks into the night, and then passing out in our bed on the boat. Rinse and repeat.

Beyond this “normal” routine, there were a number of stand-out moments that even surpassed this base-level of awesome. We started the week off with a full moon, and this led to some amazing moon rises including one that rose bright red while we sipped cocktails on the beautiful island of Korcula. The experience was only enhanced by our location at Bar Massimo which sits at the top of a centuries-old rampart tower and is only accessible by climbing a ladder.

One of our exceptional dinners, this one on the island of Mljet, included fresh red snapper that had been spear-fished by the free-diving chef the day before. Adding a surprisingly graphic special touch was a large flat screen TV displaying video of the spearing in the background of our meal.

While each swim in the perfectly clear, 80 degree Adriatic was refreshing and wonderful, our swim into “Odysseus’ blue cave” was extra special. When looking back out from inside the cave, the water seemed to glow blue from underneath. It felt like a place ancient people might have come to be healed of illnesses due to its magical qualities, and we felt lucky to experience it and its peaceful solitude.

Two other events require special note: (1) the regatta that wasn’t, and (2) the stealing of skipper Marco’s USA speedos. First, we were told at the beginning our trip that we’d have a race of the five boats toward the end of the week. In theory, we should have been practicing setting our sails and tacking all week. However, the wind didn’t cooperate much during the week, and besides, everyone was too busy relaxing to take the upcoming race very seriously. But, when the race did come around, our boat was jazzed up… only to have our spirits deflated when all the boats crawled away from the starting line at less then one knot. We literally took off like a herd of turtles. Then, during the race there were some hilarious arguments over the VHF radio (hilarious to us at least) about where the finish line really was. At the end, each boat claimed to have won, and I can honestly say, I have no idea who was right… Though I can say that our meal that night did not taste especially victorious.

The second event of special note involved a 22 year old, vivacious, Croatian skipper named Marco. Marco skippered the boat with all single women, and he seemed to enjoy prancing about his boat (and often dancing in the bow) in his skimpy speedo bathing suit, much to the joy of his passengers. The speedos were emblazoned with the stars and stripes and a big “USA,” and sometime in our first few days, our boat made it our mission to steal the sacred, patriotic suit and string it up on our mast as a fun prank. The suit proved elusive despite a late-night, Watergate-style search on Marco’s boat by Meghan and other guests with requisite flashlights. But thanks to the help from a high ranking official in the company, we were finally successful on the last day of the cruise and proudly sailed from the marina with the undies flapping in the breeze. We all had a good laugh when Marco and others saw the suit strung up on our boat. However, the female passengers on Marco’s boat quickly asked for them back, so they could enjoy their skipper “in style” for their last day.

We pulled back into the Dubrovnik marina after seven days of relaxation, exploration, and fun. It was a truly great “vacation from our vacation.” And we’d built great friendships in the tight quarters of our small boat with the other two couples who we hope to see again either in England, Scotland, or California. Now, we’ll explore more of what Croatia offers on dry land with time in Dubrovnik, Split, Plitvice Lakes, and Istria. Off we go again!

Many of you have probably heard that Brian and I just returned from a sailing trip along Croatia’s southern coast. Rest assured that delightful update is coming. But for now, enjoy this little nugget of stopovers and… well… travel experience. I’ve presented the gentle version here. For the full, unadulterated account (not for the easily grossed out), click here.

Most people don’t treat Budapest as a stopover city. There’s so much to see and do that you could spend weeks exploring and experiencing. But Brian had been to Budapest before, and we had a bit of planning to do if we were even going to attempt to do right by Croatia, a place we were planning to explore much more in depth.

So we got just a few nights in Budapest, a couple days for planning and a couple for exploring. Of course we could spend longer if we felt like it – the beauty of not planning too much in advance. But, as luck would have it, our planning led us to catch the last available cabin on a sailboat heading along the Croatian coast much earlier than we thought we would. So we were to spend exactly four days in Budapest before beginning the long trip to Dubrovnik, Croatia.

We had several, wonderful and memorable experiences including the sights of the magnificent buildings lit up at night, a day relaxing at the thermal baths, and a night of beers with some locals and other travelers… And of course our first foray into Hungarian eats!  

   

  

  

 
Unfortunately, a case of traveller’s tummy turned Budapest into even more of a stopover experience as our last day was spent largely laid up in a bathroom.

We caught the train to Zagreb, Croatia (the first leg of our journey to Dubrovnik) early the next morning. 6am to be exact. Far earlier than we will ever attempt to do again as we couldn’t make it to bed before 2am the night before. I’m sure we weren’t the only zombies wandering Zagreb that afternoon. But we were certainly truest to form.

 

 It turns out many people do treat Zagreb as a stopover city, spending only one night as they travel through. Croatia is known for its coast, and Zagreb is far from the blue waters of the Adriatic. We largely did so as well, spending only two nights. But there were a few things we wanted to see. The early train allowed us to explore a couple museums our first afternoon: The Croatian Museum of Naive Art, and The Museum of Broken Relationships. That is, after we hit up our first and possibly most important stop, The Cookie Factory. Nothing beats a homemade chocolate chip cookie when you’re eating an international diet.

The museums were also a wonderful experience – made even more so by our delusional state? The Croatian Museum of Naive Art exhibits art pieces from largely rural Croatians who’ve had no formal training. The pieces were magnificent. Many were paintings on glass as glass was a cheap surface to use. Glass allowed the colors to appear incredibly vivid and the overall painting to look smooth and clean. Both Brian and I were spellbound by several pieces. One of our favorite pieces is “Solar Eclipse” by Ivan Generalic.

The Museum of Broken Relationships displays artifacts and stories sent from people around the world about their failed relationships. These were everything one would expect: touching, funny, heartwrenching. But most of all, the museum created an atmosphere of collective empathy. Every person who walks through will find themselves in some piece of a story, making the whole experiences truly personal to each visitor.

Our plan for day two was to head to a national park for some promised amazing hiking. Unfortuantely, traveller’s tummy prevented that, and we resigned ourselves to a more relaxing and hopefully recuperating day in Zagreb. We walked, slowly, post-dinner European style, to a manmade lake and relaxed by its shore with lemonade. The lake had rigged a pulley system to allow people to wake board around in circles, and we had fun watching them and quietly wishing we felt good enough to try it. We then took the tram back into the old town and spent the rest of our time snacking through The Cookie Factory’s delights. I love having a regular spot. The verdict: good cookies, great brownies, terrible ice cream. (Outside of that we were both on a diet of white bread, bananas, and ramen.)

We hop a noontime bus for an 8.5 hour trip to Dubrovnik tomorrow, setting sail the next day. Fingers crossed for a nice ride and feeling better!