A Little Bit Like Finland

Today Gretchen and I went up on the Grand Mesa, just to stroll through the woods and look for mushrooms. As it turns out it was a fine fine day for both. I gathered a bagful of chanterelles and boletus'. So the next step on my agenda today is to make a pot of mushroom soup.

The weather was remarkable. This is really the best time to be there. There are fewer tourists and virtually no mosquitoes. The temperature was in the high 70s. The unfortunate part of it is that the nearest pine tree to my house is still 50 miles away. You can see the stark differences in the landscape here. If I go slightly west, I hit landscapes like this:
But if I drive east, I find landscapes like this:

The Sound of Silence

I feel as if I'm floating in some other space and time. I've been on the go since I arrived home 3 weeks ago. Camping all week, then daughter and grandkids here in GJ for 3 days. They just left and everything is now eerily quiet - just the tapping of my computer keys and the drone of the refrigerator. And my tinnitus. This will pass, this will pass . . . .

The cable company dropped by Friday afternoon and I said, sure, Y-not? $30/month, no contract. Let's see what television is like these days. We watched some the past couple of days. Very interesting, very interesting. I didn't really 'grok' it. A lot of reality television, which I think is just normal people being filmed as they go about their affairs. They are so bizarre. I particularly like the interesting ads for condoms. It will be fun watching it, like being a new arrival from a distant planet.

It's hard to tell what the economic state of GJ is. The houses around the center of town look a bit rundown, though the downtown shopping area looks vital and there's lots of new housing. The streets, sidewalks and bridges are being repaired under the Stimulus package. Lots of new stores. So it feels like it's prospering overall. Interesting.

Rollin', rollin' . . . .

I barely arrived home than I took off for a 10-day camping trip, which was shortened by two days by cold and thunderstorms. We drove out of the Collegiate Peaks campground on Thursday in a rain of hail and a lightning storm. Michelle and grandkids have come to GJ to visit for 3 days instead. Here it's hot hot hot. I wanted to go to the National Monument yesterday, but by 11am it was already getting sweltering and we decided to jump in the swimming pool instead.

I of course haven't settled into any kind of routine yet. Mostly I've just been packing and unpacking, touching base with people, trying to figure out what my next direction is. There is no lack of volunteer opportunities. Paying work may be another story. :o) We shall see. GJ looks like a boom town. I can't believe how much construction has taken place here in the past two years. I guess this is all part of the economic stimulus package. Seems like a good idea - roads being repaired, bridges, city landscaping. It's good.

I was going through my photos, looking at Tblisi photos, what a fun weekend that was, what a pretty place. It's so hard to keep from having that surreal dream feeling as I look back over the past year and a half. Before I left for Armenia I had been traveling in Mexico and Central America. So in the past 18 months I've visited 20 countries!: Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Armenia, Thailand, Dubai (UAE), Georgia, Turkey, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Albania, Montenegro, Croatia, Slovenia, Switzerland, Estonia and Finland. It becomes most amazing to me when I spell it out like that! Especially considering I spent 10 of those months in one country. Whew. I'm tired. I think I'll go back to bed.

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.

A Walk Around Greater Dubrovnik

“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” J.R.R. Tolkien


I feel quite at home here. Very western, very European.

Oh the sea, the sea . . .

“A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” Lao Tzu



Having grown up by the sea, how would one manage to live with out it? That sound, that wonderful, primal sound. It has no beginning and no end, it's always changing and always the same. And the smell! Oh my Goddess. It contains all life in it.

How painful the war must have been to the people who live here. This is such a peaceful place, and to have it torn apart by the sound of bombers and rockets . . . . . I just can't imagine. I walk around . . . . . there are mothers pushing baby strollers and chatting with friends, children swimming and shrieking with joy, teens strutting their stuff, old men sitting in cafes drinking coffee and discussing the affairs of the world. And all that was shattered. I can't imagine.

I would love to retire here, also (as in, as well as several other places I've been). I think the cost of living here is about the same as the US. Though, perhaps, this town would compare in beauty to an Aspen while it's cost of living might be more like a Grand Junction. Food in the markets is about the same as home. I'm paying $600/month for "rent." So, about the same, eh wot?

Strategies for Traveling on a Shoestring

There are certain strategies I've learned as I've traveled around that seem to work well for me and I thought I'd list them here.
1) Trust. Everything begins here. Trust yourself to know you can do it. Trust other people. Trust life.
2) Start small.
3) Wake up early to beat the crowds and the heat. The tour buses usually start arriving around 9am-10am. I arrived at the castle a little after 8 this morning. There were only a few others about. By 10am the sun was shining brightly and I was glad I was walking down those steep stone steps as the hundreds passing me were on their way up. I pitied them their time in the hot sun. I had gotten some marvelous photos, free of interference. They will have to strain to find a photo shot without a dozen people in it.
4) Walk, don't ride. It's environmentally friendly, cheaper and gets you acquainted with all parts of the area where you are visiting.
5) Don't stay in the center of the action. Seek places away from the tourist center. You'll have to walk further (great exercise), it will cost less and you'll see the local world instead of just the package tourist sites.
6) Do all the free things first. Then, if you're still wanting more, take a tour.
7) Get the biggest bang for your travel buck by traveling for as long as you can at one time. I like to travel for 2-4 months at a time. I figure, why pay $1,500 for airfare for two weeks when I can pay the same amount and stay much longer? Not only do I save money, but again - it's kind to the environment
8) Shop around for your airline tickets.
9) Visit art galleries and artisan markets.
10) Pack a lunch and sit in the park instead of going to restaurants.
11) Keep track of your spending daily. I know exactly how much I'm spending every day. If I'm going over my budget I take a quiet day. If I'm doing well, saving pennies, I splurge.
12) Watch the junk buying, be it junk food, useless trinkets, whatever. An amazing amount of money can dribble away on nothing. Buy soft drinks in local markets rather than from vendors - half the price.
13) Stay in one place for at least 3-4 days. Since I'm traveling for 2 months or more, I can only have a general idea of where I'll be and when. I stay in hostels, talk to other travelers, find out what's nice, what's not. When I arrive in a town I stay as long as I wish. I look for places/towns I like, then I settle in. Moving about gets costly.
14) Stay in hostels that allow you to cook and/or provide at least one meal a day. Avoid restaurants. I don't care for restaurant food day in and day out. I prepare my own food, buy bread, cheese, fruits and vegetables at the market, and splurge on a nice meal in a restaurant every few days. Then I really enjoy those restaurant meals.
15) Go slow. Slow travel is like slow food. Take time to savor the place where you are.
16) Be content with simple pleasures: walks on the beach, people-watching in a park or sidewalk cafe, sunrises and sunsets, meeting and talking with other travelers and locals. If you need a thrill a minute you'll have to pay.
17) Go off-season.
18) Internet help - UNESCO, Lonely Planet
19) Be your own travel agent. Get free flyers from travel agents. Go on line and find travel agencies then copy their itineraries.
20) Volunteer - www.goabroad.com, volunteers for peace.
21) Network.
22) Let your travel pay for itself: write a book, give workshops and classes
23) Travel light.
24) Have friends meet you for parts of your travels.
25) Where to stay? Couch-surfing, hostels, homestays, friends old and new.
26) Educate yourself. Learn about things like public transportation, luggage storage, etc.

Missing Steven

“Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before, advanced a stage or two upon that road which you must travel in the steps they trod.” Aristophanes

I was walking around Dubrovnik old town today when a song came out of one of the cafes that reminded me of Steven . . . "No, I can't stop loving, no, I won't stop loving you . . . . " It was popular about the time that he died. Suddenly I was stung with that deep, painful longing for his companionship. Yet I also know that my life would not be what it is now if he were still alive. He had done a lot of traveling when he was young and did not have the passion for it that I have. Nor did he have the money. I probably would have foregone traveling to be with him, and that would have been a sadness and a deep longing for me also. There is the old adage, "You can do whatever you want. Follow your dreams!" But there are times when two deep desires conflict.

And so I carry Steven with me wherever I go. I lean over the castle wall to view the sea far below. The wind blows across the water, hits the rock and vegetation and then the castle wall as it rises to meet me. The air is cool and full of the aroma of fish and sea and flowers. It feels like a kiss, blown from the sea. I breathe it in and think it not possible to breathe such air and be unhealthy. I breathe it back out to Steven, to Tony, to Gretchen, to Michelle, Sarina, Beth, Catherine, David, to all who suffer and to all who are happy. In and out, in and out. The sea feeds me and I pass it on.

Hello Montenegro . . . . Good-bye Montenegro

I think that travel comes from some deep urge to see the world, like the urge that brings up a worm in an Irish bog to see the moon when it is full. ~Lord Dunsany

Dinner didn't help. After dinner I strolled in the opposite direction of the renovated castle - another spit of land jutting out into the sea that surrounds the little beach where my room is located. It's covered in trees and thick vegetation and looks as inviting as the castle wall did earlier. So off I go. Only to once again discover that unregulated construction is not a pretty sight. I cant believe what I see. Those delightful rocks which jut out into the sea? Why, they're too difficult to walk on without falling off so they've been cemented over with nice, large flat concrete platforms. Trash litters the wooded slopes. More ghastly hotels blight the view - Hotel Belinda for Goddess' sake. Ugly as a concrete bunker.

On the way back to my room I'm approached by a strange young man. The area is deserted and he rides past me twice on his motorbike. Something about him makes me uneasy so I decide to cut down some concrete steps which will take me quickly to the more populated beach and forego the longer walk along the road. About halfway down I turn around and discover that he has parked his bike and is following me. He's slender but young and I'm not sure if I'm his match if it comes to a struggle or what he's thinking, but his demeanor tells me he's scared-excited-nervous and has something not to my liking in mind. He passes me and turns around to face me. I also turn around to see what or who is nearby. Fortunately, another, older man is now coming down the steps. So the young man continues on. When I reach the bottom he whispers hoarsely, "Come with me." How disgusting and unnerving. I suspect that he thought I was one of those older foreign women who go to such places for the purchased pleasure of a young man's company. I heard of this while in Turkey (where I was approached by a male prostitute) and I also saw the same in a movie once. Ugh. It sickens me and leaves me liking the place even less.

Back in my room I hope to be lulled to sleep by the sound of the waves on the sandy beach just a few hundred feet from my window. Unfortunately, there's a bar and restaurant between me and the shore so by 9pm the waves are drowned by the sound of shrill drunken laughter which continues on into the wee hours. Not every day on the road is a bowl of cherries.

Surprise, surprise, the following morning I head for the bus station - conveniently placed about 40 minutes walk from the center of town so that one must spend $4 for a taxi to get there. I walk anyway. I'm looking forward to Kotor. . . .

It's now noon. How to describe the ride in a few sentences? The scenery is indeed jaw-dropping stunning. However, I must use my imagination to see it. I must erase all the god-awful 8-story luxury(?) hotels blocking my view, and forget the cars and concrete. And where do they get all the concrete, you might be asking? No problem. If you scrape away the vegetation and the top soil, just below is oodles of delicious rock which can be ground up into sand and concrete. No attempt is made to hide the scars. I particularly enjoyed the the landfill across the bay, difficult to see in this photo. It must be a few thousand feet long.

If all that wasn't enough, they've also discovered billboards here. And. . . . if you run out of places to put billboards you can always paint ugly ads on the concrete retaining walls that line the highway. I really felt like I was about to suffocate as I rode through all that.


Fortunately for me the bus driver didn't drop me in Kotor, where I intended to go. I knew I was there but I didn't get off the bus. Instead, I went to the end of the line with him, Herceg Novi, which the book described as less developed. True. But it hardly appeals either. It's close to the Croatian border so I bought a ticket to Dubrovnik and will leave Montenegro soon. I think there is some stunning landscape here but the bulk of the tourist crowd is herded into this coastal area and I don't have the energy or desire to find out differently. There are difficult roads and no transport to some of the interior parks and wild lands. If I had a car I could explore. But I'm ready to move along. I'm looking for a place to settle into for a few days and this ain't it.

I've reached the sea . . .

The traveler was active; he went strenuously in search of people, of adventure, of experience. The tourist is passive; he expects interesting things to happen to him. He goes "sight-seeing." ~Daniel J. Boorstin

Unfortunately the big developers beat me here and they did not do a good job. Large and ugly hotels have shouldered their way between trashy and personality-free apartment buildings and homes - those square kinds often built near the beach.

The town (Ulcinj) climbs up steep rocky hills which run directly into the Adriatic Sea. A castle sits on the edge of a cliff, but all that is visible from the beach is the restored wall. It looks scenic and invites me to climb up the long walkway. It is, however, only scenic from a distance. It's historic and ancient beauty has been squarely remodeled into modern restaurants and rooms for rent, smartly named "Kalaja" (Castle) and "Antigone." Such a shame. If the visual blight weren't bad enough, there is also much construction continuing: streets and sidewalks are torn up everywhere; large and loud trucks ply the streets, kicking up dust; construction workers with jackhammers and wheelbarrows add to the overall chaos. Needless to say I'll only stay here one night. This is on the southern tip of Montenegro and not usually recommended in the travel brochures or by other travelers I've met. Neither does it even come close to the photos of Montenegro I've seen.

Life is full of everything, eh wot? People here are nice however. I rode from Albania in a Kombi Taxi (4 passengers). One of the passengers was a Macedonian who is married to a Swiss woman and has duel citizenship. He's worked with NGOs in the past and spoke excellent English. He fixed me up in a room for rent in his niece's house. So I'm set for the night.

All in all everything begins to feel more western and less eastern as I move along. When I leave the internet cafe I'll walk back down the street and get a pizza dinner. The aromas and menus looked good. Let's hope. Perhaps I'm being too harsh and the world will look better after a good meal. That often happens.

American music in the background. It's everywhere. I often wonder what local, traditional music sounds like. Hard to find. But I do like this song . . . "Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart. . . . a total eclipse of the heart. . . . every now and then I fall apart . . . . I really need you tonight . . . . . la la la la . . . .