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Bohinj: I said, higher.

October 8th, 2005

We arrived at the bottom of the cable car run around 10am, all stocked up with food and water, ready for a good days hiking. The morning fog was just starting to lift, and the sun was warming the fresh air. The cash for the tickets was ready in our hands as we approached the ticket window, curious to see if the cable car was running at all after yesterday’s smoky display, and preparing ourselves to be disappointed.

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Bohinj: Wet

October 8th, 2005

Bohinjsko Jezero, or Lake Bohinj, is a 5 kilometer long lake, situated at the foot of a valley in the Julian Alps. A couple of small villages rest on the shores of the lake, not doing much, just staring out at the water, contemplating life. It was to here that Bec and I travelled after Bled, just 25km down the road, and spent the next three days giving our legs an almighty workout.

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Bled: Row row row your boat

October 8th, 2005

A few years ago, back when travelling was something that other people did, more adventurous and assured people, I remember speaking to a mate who had just spent two years overseas.He spoke to me about a town in the Northwest of Slovenia, a sleepy little town nestled at the foot of the Julian Alps. It wrapped itself around a small lake, he said, in the centre of which was the tiniest of islands with nothing but a church on it.And you could hire yourself a boat and row out to this island and ring the church bell, which was said to grant your wish. The reason I remembered all this so clearly was because the name of the town was Bled. And how can you forget a name like that. So on September 26th, Bec and I travelled just 2 hours Northwest of Slovenia’s capital Ljubljana (for those who have been struggling, it’s pronounced something like Loo Biana), and arrived in the town of Bled.

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Photos: Sarajevo

October 3rd, 2005

Ok, so I planned to have photo entries here on this website, but to save time, will most likely be hosting them only on Flickr. There’s a link to mine and Bec’s site in the panel on the right, or you can find them right here. You can see pics from Croatia and Sarajevo there now, and hopefully some from the Piltvice Lakes soon

But, as a final photo entry, I’ve got a couple of extras from Sarajevo here.

So, without further ado, from one of the most captivating cities in the world, comes this series of mediocre photos. Lap it up people, it’s the best I could do.

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Posted in Bosnia and Herzegovina, Photos, Travel | 1 Comment »

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Ljubljana: Multitasking

October 2nd, 2005

Bec and I were up at 6.20am to catch a 6.45 bus from the Plitvička Lakes (Plitvice in English) to Zagreb (see, it’s not all sleeping in). Just like the last few days, it was cloudy, dark, with a misty rain floating steadily down. We walked single file along the side of the highway, 500 metres back to the bus-stop, as cars with their lights on sped by, whipping up a trail of water behind them.

The bus was scheduled to take 2.5 hours, and we were hoping to catch a connecting train to Ljubljana, in Slovenia, at 9.45am. The train station in Zagreb was a good 15 minute walk from the bus station, but that should have still left us plenty of time. A couple of lengthy stops in the journey had Bec and I nervously watching the clock, and figuring out what we’d do in Zagreb whilst waiting four hours for the next train, not scheduled until 1.45pm. 9.15am, and we were just reaching the outskirts of Zagreb. “I’ll give it 3 or 4 more minutes, and if we’re not at the bus stop by then, I reckon we’ll miss it,” I said. 9.20am, and we pulled into the bus station.

“Fuck it. Let’s go for it.”

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Posted in Slovenia, Travel | 4 Comments »

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Plitvice Lakes: The Other Dimension

September 25th, 2005

After a night in a dogdy Zagreb hostel, Bec and I caught a bus to the Plitvice National Park, about 2.5 hours South West of Zagreb and home to the spectacular Plitvice Lakes. The bus made its way out of the city, and gradually the landscape turned from industrial to mountainous. We moved further and further up into the dense forest and fog, and once again saw the mountains playing hide and seek with the clouds.

I looked out the front of the bus and saw nothing but white, before the two yellow eyes of a truck came roaring out of the nothingness and whizzed by. I’m not sure if it was because of the fog, but after two hours of travel, when the conductor pointed in our direction and quickly blurted out something that sounded like Plitvice, Bec and I nearly got off the bus too early, as did an Aussie solo traveller named Ross who was also headed to the National Park. We got to chatting, and shortly after did arrive at our stop, and the three of us walked through the misty rain to a house advertising a room, and got ourselves an apartment with a double bed, and a fold-out couch.

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Bosnia: Bec breaks another Bosnian heart

September 25th, 2005

After some amazing days in Sarajevo, Bec and I caught a 10am train to Zagreb. During those amazing days, we did actually manage to work out what curreny they used, a Bosnian Mark, worth a little bit less than an Aussie dollar. But unfortunately, changing Bosnian Mark is a very difficult thing, and we were stuck with the problem of trying to spend every last Mark we had before boarding the train.

At the ticket counter, we were unable to pay in Euros, and didn’t have enough Mark to pay for our two tickets, so we asked the attendant how much the tickets were, and headed to the Bankomat to get the 110 Mark he had indicated we would need. We came back cashed up, and asked for two tickets to Zagreb.

“That’s 89 Mark” replied the attendant.

Uh, we’d just loaded ourselves with 120 of these bloody things, and so afer buying the tickets were stuck with 30 Mark, about 25 Aussie dollars. We had ten minutes before the train left, and 25 bucks to spend in a dingy train station. I left Bec on the platform and ran into the station to offload as much of this cash as I could.

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Sarajevo: How I sold my girlfriend to the Bosnian ‘Big Boss’

September 25th, 2005

Sallie and Fiona, as well as being awesome chicks to hang out with, also led to one of the more bizarre afternoons I’m sure Bec or I will ever experience. They were staying at the cheap hostel right in the centre of Sarajevo, where they had met a group of four Aussie guys; Pete and Craig, self proclaimed ladies men, and Dan and John, both great blokes who I hope we can meet up with again. Dan was also a shit-hot guitarist, who was playing in a band back in Australia with a well-known Aussie muso, Pinky Beercroft from Machine Gun Fellatio.

We met the boys on our first night in Sarajevo, just after we first bumped into Sallie and Fiona. When we met them, Pete and Craig were a bit pissed, as they had just spent the afternoon drinking in a little bar with some locals. This had come about when, whilst perusing the food at the bustling fruit and veg market just up the road, Craig was shat on by a bird. The local guys laughed it up, and as a condolence, invited the lads back to their bar for a few drinks. After a few drinks, the boys had talked up Dan’s guitar playing, and promised they would return with him the next day, so that Dan could play for the owner of the bar. They also met someone they referred to as ‘The Big Boss’, and had told him that Dan could play any song on that came on the radio in the bar (which, to his credit, Dan actually could. I’m telling you, he was shit-hot).

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Sarajevo: Living and Breathing

September 25th, 2005

From 1992 to 1995, Sarajevo was, literally, a warzone. It was completely surrounded by Serbian troops, who relentlessy shelled the city. Snipers picked off civilians as they tried to go about their lives. The majority of the city had no electricity, and water was extremely scarce. The only way in or out of the city was through the airport, which was under UN jurisdiction. To get to the airport, residents had to chance their arm running across an open field, where many where shot by Serbian snipers. Those who did make it to the airport were turned back by UN troops, under the guise that by leaving the residents were contributing to the ethnic cleansing the Serbs were attempting.

For almost four years the city existed like this, a soundtrack of constant gun fire and the explosions of artillery shells playing to citizens slowly going mad, risking their lives any time they left the house.

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Sarajevo: 20 Thingies

September 24th, 2005

Because we knew so little about Bosnia and Sarajevo, we had made sure to book in advance the hostel we had been recommended back in Rome. The hostel website had given us directions on how to get there from the bus station. The bus station should be next to the train station, and out the front take the Number 1 tram to Skenderija stop. The hostel should be just near there.

We stepped off the bus. This did not look like the bus station of a capital city. We couldn’t see any train station, and there certainly wasn’t a tram running anywhere we could see. A bit daunted, and tired from the bus trip, Bec and I simply sat down and tried to gather our thoughts.

First thing – we need to get some money. I spied a Bankomat not far away, headed over to it, and put in my card and pin number. Now, how many of these thingies should I get. Hmmmm, the lowest option is 20, lets just go with that. So I returned to Bec, now carrying 20 Bosnian thingies.

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