A Few Days in Switzerland

20 June 2010, Saturday
“There is no such thing as development in general; there is only the development of the one or other or third or fourth or thousandth person. There have to be as many developmental processes as there are human beings on the earth.” Rudolf Steiner

Spent a wonderful day in Basel with Ruth, Walter and Rowenna. I don't know if Basel is listed among the top 100 cities in the world to visit, but if not it should be. This was my second visit to Basel and I truly love it. It's a beautiful old city, full of rambling cobblestone streets, vine=covered rock wall and lovely architecture. I must say too that it felt good to be back among that which is familiar and feels like home: familiar faces, food, music, culture.

Ruth and I met up with Walter and Rowenna at the train station after shopping around stores looking for “gummiesteifel” (rubber boots) for our upcoming trip to Finland. We headed then directly to the restaurant for Pizza. I'm stil suffering from sticker shock around here. Not only is everything more costly than in all the countries I've been traveling in, it's even significantly more costly than in the US. Lunch cost $20. That's per person. That's no drinks, no salads, no frills. Just a good pizza. Okay. Onward.

After lunch we wandered around Basel, shopping for boots and enjoying the culture. We finally found some reasonably priced boots, sandwiched in between two concerts at the Music School.

Oh, the wonders I have seen . . . .
A kinetic ferry across the Rhine. A cable stretches across the river which is attached to the prow of the ferry. By turning the rudder one way or the other and pointing the ferry upstream, the ferry will be pushed by the force of the water as it crosses the river.


An environmental education art show to raise awarenes of the importaince of not littering. The display Rowenna is pointing to uses a play on the German word “Grullt” which means “rubbish” but remove the double “l” and it means “to rest” or “to relax”. The sign says, “Rubbish by the Rhine” or “Relax by the Rhine.”


Here Walter points to the sign standing by each display which gives directions to the nearest trash can.


Beautiful fountains all around the city.


Great street performers. Drop a few coins in the hat and the Golden Man and his dog will come alive. The dog begins to bark and the man toddles to his feet as if his bones are old and aching, googles his springy eyes at you, opens a pocket on his chest that reveals a large plastic heart, and blows you a kiss. Then he carefully sits back down and pats the air above the dog to quiet him down. The best franc spent all day. :o)


Whimsical fountains. I must include 3 photos here. This is a pond in one of the central parks with a set of whimsical, mechanical fountains. First is a close up of one of the pieces, a machine with a sieve which eternally scoops up water and lets it drain out. Second a photo of several of the machines working. And last, the wonder and fascination it engenders in observers (Ruth and Rowenna).

Beautiful architecture everywhere you look.

A concert in the park to raise money and awareness for all the refugees (fluchtlingstag) who have been forced to flee their homelands and find save haven in Switzerland. This was a really good Basel raggae band. They gathered quite a crowd and had every jumping.

On Sunday afternoon, Ruth and I attended a 4-hour production of the Magic Flute put on by teachers, students and residents of a nearby anthroposophical school/community for children and adults with special needs. This was a remarkable performance in all respects: the costumes, stage settings, and performances where all near professional quality. Most remarkable of all though was to see the community members, those who are learning to cope with such challenges as down's syndrome and autism, in the performance. Really, really remarkable. This school/community houses some 50 residents, has a school for children, many of whom live at home with their families and come to school for the day, and has workshops and gardens. They have a bread bakery, a pottery shop, a bio-dynamic garden and farm animals. Bread, vegetables and pottery are created for their own use as well as for sale in the community at large.

Next Chapter

Well, I've been hanging out here in beautiful Bled, just vegging, and I guess I should have been using my time more productively and journaling the summation of all my experiences. But believe me, just because I haven't written my thoughts and feelings down certainly doesn't mean I haven't had them. To paraphrase Dylan Thomas (I do hope he'll forgive me): "My day begins with the water-birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name above the farms and the white horses and I rise and walk abroad in a shower of all my days." He says it so beautifully. Yes, I do. I walk around the lake and over the hills and along the mountain paths and through the villages "in a shower of all my days." I continue to feel so blessed by this wonderful gift I've been given: the opportunity to travel as I've always wished to, good health and a spirit willing to step into the unknown.

I was walking down the street today and thinking that I've dropped down into so many different towns and cities in the past three months that now none of them are disorienting any more. No matter what, I step out of the bus or the train or the tram or the taxi, big city or small town, and I don't feel confused or lost or fearful (I'm not fearless - I have all those feelings during my travels). I study the map in advance and always think it will look familiar when I step out, but no. What I find is never what I expect. The map is flat - the town is wrapped around a series of hills (photo to the left was taken near Berat); or, there are so many little dead-end streets with no name that they can't possibly put them on the map; or, I'm dropped off someplace completely unexpected and I have no idea where I am; or, lo and behold, they don't use the same alphabet; or, none of the streets are labeled; or, the map says "library" but Slovenians say "knjižnica". But not to worry. I just simply no longer feel confused or overwhelmed. I just look around and start walking. Or sometimes (like in Ljubljiana) I just stand in the rain in the middle of a crowd pushing to get on the tram and ask loudly, "Does this tram go to the train station? Anyone? Does anyone speak English?" And some kind person will tap me on the shoulder and point to where I need to go or say, "Follow me."

But I guess I've veered from the topic. Or have I? What is the topic anyway? While writing this I got busy sending emails to everyone. I'm just getting ready to board the night-train for Switzerland. No more internet for awhile. I don't know what the situation will be like in Switzerland. With any luck I'll be able to get a connection at Ruth's house.

A Walk Around Bled

A stream that runs into Lake Bohinj (Bo-heen).









A lovely church in a nearby village.

An old hay-drying rack.

I'm a Tumbleweed

I try to remember when I was first bit by the travel bug. I believe it was when I was about 8 or 9 years old. I grew up in a small mountain town in Colorado - Idledale. And it was. We had two grocery stores, a post office, a 3-room school that taught 8 grades and about 500 residents. My mother worked in Denver, about 30 miles away. Occasionally my younger brother Jon and I would stow away in the backseat when she left for work in the hopes that she wouldn't discover us and we'd get an exciting day in the big city. But I digress.

My first real memories of wanting to travel began when I had an older friend, a surrogate grandfather, who owned shelves and shelves full of National Geographics. I would go visit him and curl up in a chair with an armload and dream of the day when I would travel to all these exotic places.

I'm a Lucky Girl!

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” Martin Buber

Friday, 28 May 2010

The ship from Dubrovnik to Hvar

This was a long day. Last night I spent the night in a hostel in Hvar which was just too much like a freshman college dorm. Everyone had their stuff thrown all over the room and it was party, party, party. Hvar is beautiful, but it's a sailor's and a college kid's paradise.

View of Hvar

Ahhhh . . . if I were a sailor, what a lovely place to sail it would be! But I'm neither a sailor nor a freshman, so I woke up very early, grabbed my bag and headed down to the port to catch the 6:30am catamaran to Split - another beautiful coastal town with a castle on a hill above it.

Split

Expect high-priced stores (where I treated myself to a beautiful scarf), and lots and lots of sailboats. I had made reservations in a hostel in Split, the only reasonably priced one I could find online. But when I arrived the scene was the same as Hvar: very small room with bunk beds crammed in and absolutely no place to walk, the floor covered with clothes and everything imaginable. So I begged off, saying I was feeling sick and didn't think it would be a good idea for me to sleep in a such crowded room.

Then I put my stuff in a locker at the train station and wandered around for a few hours trying to figure out what to do. I went from internet cafe to tourist information office to train station to bus station and back again. I finally decided to leave Split and continue on to Plitvice Lakes. Unfortunately, I really didn't have a clear idea what the lay of the land was or where I would be staying. Everything I could find on the internet was either no help or in Croatian. The tourist information office had information for Split but didn't seem to know about anything else in the country. Likewise the folks at the bus and train. I finally dashed off to the market for some fruit, bread, cheese and yogurt and jumped on the 12o'clock bus.

It took 6 hours to get from Split to Plitvice. The bus dropped me off at 6pm in front of the Plitvice Lakes Park entrance. The offices were closed and there was no one around. I had a place picked out to stay but had no idea how far it was from the park entrance. I tried hitchhiking for awhile but it was obvious no one was going to stop so I began walking. Within about 3 km I came to a small region called Rastovic. This is near the second entrance to the park and there was gated parking and a restaurant and a sign that said “rooms for rent.” A nice young woman who spoke English made a phone call for me and soon Antonio showed up to take me back to his lovely home. So here I am in the home of Antonio and Bora.

It's common throughout Croatia to build a house with rooms to let. The owners live in one half and rent out the other half. Croatia is beautiful. Plitvice is a tourist site and a main source of income for locals. Their is spotless and tidy. I plan to stay here for three nights, one whole day in the park and one day to relax and go for short walks.

Sunday, May 30, 2010
Homestays near Plitvice Lakes (Jeszera) National Park
There are two entrances to Plitvice Lakes NP, both of them on Hwy E71, the main road between Split and Zagreb. The Park is on the west side of the road. Approaching from Zagreb you reach entrance #1 first. Entrance #2 is 4-5km further on toward Split. Continuing south toward Split another 2km is the entrance to the small village of Mucinje (pronounced moo-seen-a), again to the west of the highway.

There are many small towns and villages along the road, mostly not visible from the road as the vegetation throughout this region is very thick. However, if you walk about 50m you will see several houses and apartment buildings, many with a sign for rooms or apartments (zimmer) to rent. What's really nice about Mucinje – well, next to the people there of course – is that it's only a 10 minute walk along a gravel path though the forest from Mucinje to the park entrance. How sweet is that? I stayed in two different homes. My first stay was limited to one night because a large group was coming the next night and they had no more available rooms. So my next two nights I stayed in another homestay. The first house was the home of Antonio and Bora Gaspar, Mukinje 49, 53231 Plitvicka jezera, tel: 053-774-322. I had a private room, a private outside entrance and use of the kitchen downstairs.

My 2nd and 3rd days I stayed with Rade and Mirjana Cuic (Chuich), Mukinje P-8, 53231 Plitvice Jezera, Hrvatska (Croatia), tel: 091-19447800.

Here again I had a private room, shared bath and use of the kitchen. Both places where I stayed offered meals at an additional cost – a wonderful bonus as there are only expensive restaurants nearby at the hotels in the park. Expect to pay 20-30 euro there. I can't imagine a better way to visit Plitvice than to also enjoy the wonderful hospitality of the Croatian people.

Even if you are unable to reach either of these homestays in advance (neither has internet presence at the moment), you can just show up and almost be guaranteed a stay somewhere, as nearly every other home has rooms to let. The economy is still suffering from the war, but tourism is growing and homestays is one way that you can contribute to the local economies and local people. In exchange, you will have a rich experience that will be the highlight of your trip. And save money to boot!

Plitvice Jezera is a World Heritage Site. Remarkable turquoise travertine pools, lush vegetation, waterfalls and the sound of water bubbling, falling, rushing, splashing . . . .

Monday, May 31, 2010
Talk About Great Planning!
I had exactly enough kuna to take the bus from Mucinje, Croatia to Zagreb, then the train on to Ljubljana, Slovenia. And . . . . . . buy a cup of coffee and use the toilet once. :o) Marjana, my homestay host in Mucinje, had packed a lunch for me which saved the day! What very wonderful people. They made my stay in Croatia so special.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Lake Bled, Slovenia
The final stop on my solo journey. After this I go on to Switzerland, where I'll stay with Ruth for 10 days then we'll continue on to Finland for 3 weeks.

I thought that Lake Bled would be very touristy and expensive and that I would only spend a few days here, then move around some more in search of peace and quiet. But it turns out that the tourist season has not quite begun and I share this beauty with only a relative handful of others. This will be my base for the next two weeks to explore the surrounding region. There are mountains to hike in, beautiful scenery, a lake, a castle, a train ride through the mountains that will take me to the Mediterranean and Italy. What more could I ask for?

I keep thinking what a really miraculous and wonderful trip this has been. I really can't describe it any other way. The trip was so long that it was impossible for me to plan. I had a few marker dates to meet but other than that I was completely free. Ruth's schedule was such that she wasn't free until the end of June. Sirkka had a week in July free when we could visit. And so I purchased the tickets to fly from Switzerland to Finland on June 25th. My flight home would be on July 23rd. So between early April when I planned to leave Armenia and mid- to late June I was completely free to follow any agenda at all. I can only say that a Divine Wisdom much greater than myself has gifted me with the answer to a lifelong wish, and I am eternally grateful. It has been wonderful beyond all my imaginings. I have passed through so many different countries, times, and cultures. I have met so many beautiful people. And all of it unplanned.

Sometimes people say to me, “Oh, you're so brave to travel alone.” Mostly these are US Americans who say this. I meet many other travelers out here soloing, or if not soloing, then at least not afraid to solo. I can only say that if someone sees it as brave, it is only because they have no trust in their own ability to take care of themselves, and no faith in the essential goodness of humanity. Those are the only characteristics required for solo travel throughout the world. Well, that and a desire to meet people and make new friends. Everywhere I go, people are people. No one ever says, “Oh, you're so brave to go to the grocery store in Denver by yourself.” But to go to a grocery store in Croatia? Oh, my, one must be very brave indeed. Now, isn't that silly? No one ever says, “Oh, you're so brave to go hiking along the Highline Canal by yourself.” But go hiking on a well-trodden forest path in Slovenia? Oh, my, how brave. It's so very sad how we frightened human beings are of each other. Our fear of each other is the cause of our hatred and wars. If only we could reach out to one another more instead of closing our doors and our minds in fear . . . .

I remember an exercise we did during EST training. We were put into a very relaxed state, then told that everyone around us was out to get us. I went unconscious during the process and when I awoke, people were screaming and vomiting and crying. Really crazy. But it is so true that we are terrified of one another. Our own species, and we are terrified of one another.

My lesson, for those who choose to listen, is that there is nothing to fear but fear itself. I do believe I'm not the first to say that. Fear is an invisible cage. We create the bars ourselves, then we look out of them and say, “Look at those terrible bars,” as if our view of the world is real, as if what we have created is the truth. The truth is that this earth is our home, other people are our species, and we're never going to get out of this place alive anyway. So what is there to fear?

Enough of that. I've had a magnificent time, and I'm now in a beautiful place where I'll have the opportunity to write, read, and reflect. I'm staying in an old boarding house, built in 1909. I feel happy here, as if there are friendly ghosts hanging about, as if there has been much love and happiness within these walls. I feel as if this house likes me, and I like it. Is that silly? I don't think so. :o) The owner tells me he was born here, in room #8. When I told him I felt a lot of love here, that many good things had happened here. He said, yes, people had died here but no on had ever taken their own life here. That, he said, is not a good thing. The spirits of those who die violently leave a negative energy behind. My room is furnished simply. Two twin beds, a bureau for my clothes, a small round table and two chairs, a dressing table with mirror. The foot-board of one of the beds has someone's name carved in it, a child's handwriting. All the finishes on the furniture are original so there are many marks and chips. An old ceramic sink hangs from the wall by the door and a tall hot-water radiator heats the room in the winter months. There's a large window, almost floor to ceiling, covered with a lace curtain. The flooring is a lovely wood parquet, the wood slightly warped with age.
The sun is coming out! I must close this down and go outside to enjoy.

Bled Solvenia

“The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are.” – Samuel Johnson

I'm in beautiful Bled, Slovenia, the last stop on my solo journey. Wow. Chocolate chip cookies, free city maps, and a library with free internet! What more could one ask from life. Okay, Ill ask for a keyboard with the Y in the right place and an apostophe and a question mark I can find. Other than that, I'm blissed. I will spend 2 weeks here. Ill upload photos soon, assuming of course that I can maneuver this Slovenian keyboard.