Goran Ivanisevic and Crazy Communists.

Disclaimer: This post features nothing about the famous Croatian tennis player, Goran Ivanisevic, I just thought it sounded cool as a title. It does however, include antics from a crazy communist. Enjoy.

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A serious lack of toliets in Croatia.

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We crossed the border from Austria into Slovenia by train shortly after noon. An elderly woman opens the carriage door and sits down on the bench opposite us. She begins speaking in Slovenian and I tell her I only speak English. She replies, "Oh, English book," and launches into a long dialogue in Slovenian. At the end of her speech she chuckles and then was silent for the rest of the trip, except for the occasional guffaw from seeing me asleep. We thought she was eccentric until we arrived at our "bed and breakfast" in the Slovenian capital, Ljubljana , where we were met with our host, Patricia. She looked a little bizarre, like an American flapper or Liza Minnell well past her prime. Our first impressions of this woman was of someone lamenting over the fall of communism with tears running down her cheeks. She applied eye liner so thickly that it looked like she was weeping black tears. She genuinely believed that the state knew best and that people living in the west only lived to work and that capitalism made people miserable. But that is only skimming the surface of this strange woman. She rarely slept, cleaned the house after midnight and turned off overhead lights while we were reading because she said it made her suffer and that light from the lamp gave off a more romantic luminance. Considering it was a bed and breakfast we expected a little privacy, but she came into our room while we were not there and tidied up, putting back our belongings into our bags. After two nights we were glad to see the back of her. But we did teach her a lesson. Communism is about the distribution of capital, right? So, I stole her tea bags and Anouska stole some of her chocolate. Then for good measure we were very loud when we left the apartment, waking up her neighbours at 5am. A fat, balding man ran out in his underwear and stained shirt to abuse us. We just kept walking.

Recognition. Finally.

We returned to Ljubljana within in a week, so I will discuss the city later on in this blog. Let me discuss however the predicament Anouska and I found ourselves in Slovenia. From the onslaught of our journey, we decided not to plan much. The only thing we booked in advance were our flights. This was so we could keep our itinerary open to changes, so if we really liked a place we could stay on and conversely leaving a few days earlier if a place gave us the shits. We had a rough idea of the places we wanted to visit and what dates we wanted to arrive at them. Our plans first changed in London, when we decided not to go to Spain, Portugal and Morocco in favour of Eastern Europe because of the pathetic state of the Australian dollar. Then in Ljubljana we further crossed Turkey and Italy, owing to costs and transportation. Our next decision was how to get to Greece. Should we go South through Montenegro and Albania, like our communist host suggested, or catch a ferry from Venice to the Greek port of Patras. We chose the latter. We booked the ferry and purchased a flight out of Athens to Valletta, Malta. However, a few days later when we were in Croatia, riots broke out in Greece and a 15 year old boy was shot by the police and dissent flourished throughout the country. Greece was suddenly a very undesirable place to be. So, we cancelled our ferry and changed our flight to Malta, costing us just under 200 dollars each. Losing a significant sum like that was a bit of a blow, but at least we avoided a potentially disastrous situation, like being stranded in Greece. So, we decided that if we can't have Christmas and bring in the new year in Greece, then we will go back to Eastern Europe. "Who needs Greece anyway", I said to Anouska, holding back the disappointment in my voice.

Babushka lady laments over our cancelled plans to Greece.

From Ljubljana we caught a bus across to Zagreb, Croatia. The three hour journey was filled with picturesque images of small houses on snow capped hills. It was rather lovely, but I think Anouska and I were more interested in who could get the best score on the Nintendo DS. That was until I accidentally dropped it on the bus floor, thus rendering it into an expensive paperweight. It was a sad moment, like losing a Kennedy. After a short eulogy detailing my numerous high scores, we turned our minds to our next destination: Zagreb. We arrived at the bus station to the usual welcoming party of drug addicts, homeless people and Gypsies. I am afraid that if I don't give the Gypsies my money they will curse me and I will start sprouting copious amounts of hair out of my ears and nostrils. A short tram ride later we dump our heavy packs down in the hostel and headed to the city centre. Our tram travel was amazingly cheap, because we purchased a one way ticket, which costs 2 Au and never once validated it for the four days we were there. They call it fare evading in Australia, but I call it fair evading, because we didn't get caught!

Near the town square.

The suburban areas of Eastern European cities rarely have any aesthetic value, especially if they have experienced communism at one stage. I believe the world would think differently about communism if it did not build such awful block buildings. It would also help their cause if they did not have lobbyists like our friend Patricia. When you get closer to the city centre of Zagreb and thus closer to buildings that predate communism, the wonderful charm and character of the city starts to reveal itself. Even the vandalism here is superior to other cities. One tag read, "everything that is sacred comes from youth", which is rather poetic in my opinion. With lovely baroque buildings (which I am becoming very fond of), the skyline is pitted with such gems as the Ban Jelacic Square, St. Marcus church (pictured), Lotrscak tower, the National Theatre and the cathedral of St. Stevens. This city in Croatia was not a place I expected to have such terrific architecture. Then again, travelling is all about dispelling the assumptions you have. What I think is the greatest feature about Zabreb is its spacious design. The city is so open. The streets are wide compared to the narrow lanes found in most European cities. Parks, botanical gardens and large squares comprise a great deal of the cities expanse.

The Croatian National Theatre.

How could I not enjoy a place without euro-inflated prices? We had some terrific three course meals for around 5 euro each, which is superb. I even had a huge plate of grilled calamari, salad and fries for 7 euro. Anouska ate a pizza the size of a car wheel for the same price and was so overwhelmed at the enormity of it she could not finish it and had the left overs for breakfast. Coffee is ridiciously inexpensive at 1.5 au a cup, which is a terrible thing if you have a slight addiction to the drink as I do. Usually price would limit my caffeine intake, but when it is this cheap you find yourself wandering into pubs and coffeeshops more often then you would like. One thing I have discovered in my travels to Eastern Europe is that it holds a entirely differently mentality to age and male companionship. Coffeeshops are usually filled with groups of old men drinking espressos and having lively debates. It is great to see that the aged are not segregated in these societies that they are in Australia. The elderly in Australia rarely leave the house out of fear and only then are forced from their safe havens out of loneliness. But in Croatia and other places in Eastern Europe, they are a culturally accepted member of society and people do not think it is strange to see them enjoying themselves in a pub or cafe. And men can socialise freely without the stigma of homophobia. I think people would feel less alienated in a environment such as this and that is what makes these places special.
On our penultimate day in Croatia, we discovered a park situated out of the city centre and close to our hostel. Maksimir Park is the largest park in Zagreb and one of the most beautifully curated parks I have ever seen (Hyde Park included). We were there when Autumn was becoming winter and brown leaves covered the long, meandering footpaths and the sky was a murky grey, like in an Ingmar Bergman film. Anouska, as well as many others think I am crazy for loving this described setting, but my body and temperament is well suited to these conditions. Maksimir Park has a subtle grandiose that with its impressive boulevard, tall trees, sweeping hills and its zoo. Unlike Hyde Park, the park feels like a natural setting, which I think is a credit to the planners. But perhaps I am too conscious of the fact that Hyde Park is in the middle of a huge metropolis. Maksimir Park is a peaceful and serene place, which is not at all justified by the photographs posted. We went as the sun was setting (probably around 4pm) and the sun was hitting the trees and creating a gyroscope of colours that were simply divine. It was a fantastic way to end our visit. That evening, we relaxed in front of the television, watching Monty Python's 'Life of Brian'. We got talking to the hostel owner, who incidentally lived in Perth for a while and has family there. She must have taken a liking to us, because before we knew it, home-made savioardi and grappa was thrust upon us. The grappa was made from pears and it is the strongest liquor I have encountered. I only had a few before feeling rather tipsy. That night I slept like a baby.

I am child trapped inside an adult's body.

After a painfully brief visit in Croatia, it was time to move again. We were heading back to Ljubljana again for a few days en route to Venice and then Greece. When the plans of the latter were shelved, we extended our stay in Slovenia a few days to decide what to do. We were unable to properly see the city during our stay there as sapping cold and relentless rain made it hard to stay outside for more than a couple of hours at a time. So, we bided our time planning the rest of our journey in coffeeshops and visiting the art gallery, which was, if I may so blatantly put it, rather shit compared to galleries we had seen in the past few weeks. Despite the rain, Ljubijana like Zagreb has a lovely city centre that has all the romance of Paris, without the Parisians. In other words, it's fantastic. On a particularly wet day we decided to trudge up a hill to see the thousand year old castle and see a terrific panorama of the city. It was a hard trek up the muddy slope, which was surpassed in difficulty by the walk down, nearly ending with both Anouska and I falling on our behinds on a number of occasions. It was a shame that I was unable to explore more of this country, but time restrictions and weather made it unfeasible. I am hoping to return to this place one day to do it justice.

A short intermission from the rain.

Our mini tour of the Slavic nations was over. We were now heading further east, to Budapest, before making out way back to the Czech Republic for Christmas and then Poland for New Years, before returning to Budapest to fly to Malta. It wasn't the most logical plan, as we were zig-zagging all over Eastern Europe, but travelling with the extra ingredient of chaos makes it that much more exciting.

Oh, what a feeling! Croatia.