The Balkans

It’s been a non-stop couple of weeks, filled with great food, friends and some of the most spectacular scenery of my trip so far – and today I write from an Italian train, with the rolling hills, vineyards and orchards of Tuscany providing the perfect backdrop and inspiration to write yet another delayed blog entry. I’ve spent the last few days with Muko and Scooder, and as we continue our search for the most amazing food, wine, live music and karaoke Italy has to offer, I do find myself wondering if it really is all that necessary to keep traveling – surely I could just spend the rest of my year here??? We’re off today to Reggio Emilia, where I thought I had struck gold with some absolute bargain accommodation – however it turns out all I struck was the epi-centre of last weeks earthquake – no wonder the prices were so cheap!

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Sighisoara

Sighişoara is a small town in the west of Romania, and is better known as the birthplace of Vlad Ţepes (or Vlad the Impaler… or Dracula!). The city surrounds the old town, which with remaining walls, citadel and picture-perfect clock tower, is the ideal place to waste away whole afternoons eating and drinking in the sun, or wandering the spectacular town cemetery – perched atop the hill, and with some of the best views in town! Of course, I made the most of the opportunity to gorge myself, trying a range of traditional Romanian dishes, washing them down with local wine, and of course complementing them with a coffee and ice-cream… and often both!

From Sighişoara, I headed south to Braşov on a journey which proved to be not as pleasant as I might have hoped – the tourist train was booked out, and my only option was the local ‘Gypsy Train’; a adventure for all my senses, and one which I hand-sanitised immediately after!!! Braşov, with a population of under half a million, is surrounded by stunning Romanian countryside and filled with a range of beautiful buildings, gardens, fountains and tourist sites. The city is only a short drive from ‘Bran Castle’ – the castle said to have inspired the Dracula story – however, while the castle is nice, it wasn’t worth the price, or the effort of even a small drive! Take note future travellers.

Brasov, with the sign in the background

From high up one of the surrounding hills, Braşov is looked over by a massive ‘Hollywood’ style sign, and with a group of other backpackers, we decided to conquer the hill. Setting out in the morning, we wandered our way through the old town, checking out a number of churches, main street, and Europe’s narrowest street (pretty much a laneway… it’s just the street sign says ‘street’ – as you would expect, not all that exciting!), before taking the muddy, slippery walkway up the hill, to the sign above. The view from the top was absolutely amazing, and of course we all jumped the barriers to climb to the top of the letters for some great photos – however the journey back down proved even slipperier than the journey up, and all four of us were soon covered in mud from walking/sliding our way down! The afternoon was spent wandering yet again, checking out the White Tower (which is white) and the Black Tower (which is also white… hmm), and a superb dinner at a Romanian restaurant – however next time I will pass on the chewy, salted pork crackling!

The view from the Brasov sign

Leaving Braşov, it was time to cross into yet another country, and after an afternoon stopover in Bucharest, I was on a night train bound for Belgrade, Serbia. Having conquered the Trans Mongolian Railway – tolerated the lack of ventilation, and survived the adventure that was ‘Olga’ – this journey was absolute luxury! I ended up with a cabin to myself, a window that opened… and a bed that was long enough for me to lie down in!

Gloomy Belgrade

Belgrade, the capital of Serbia, is big and busy! Despite the rain (which poured down the whole time I was in Serbia!) the streets were packed with tourists, locals, business people and buskers, all busy finding their way through the confusing and often ridiculous maze of footpaths, walkways and staircases which make up the city. As someone who prides myself on my sense of direction (well, unless we’re talking about my uni studies…) and my map reading skills, I was an embarrassing mess when it came to navigating Belgrade. I found myself constantly walking in circles, popping up out of underpasses in completely different locations to what I had anticipated, and then just when I thought I was back on the right track, I would discover I was completely lost all over again! This did however lead to some great finds – a $5 mobile phone to replace mine which went swimming in the hostel toilet the week before, and dinner at a great, dirt cheap Serbian restaurant, complete with a live band (who I don’t think have ever been told instruments actually need to be tuned…) who covered a range of styles from traditional Serbian to Amy Winehouse… on guitar, violin, cello and accordion. Entertaining to say the least!

I spent the next day trying to stay out of the rain, walking the Kalemegdan Fort, and the incredibly boring Military Museum, before scouring the city’s op shops in preparation for the upcoming Italy Karaoke Tour! With two days of sightseeing complete, and hoping to leave the rain behind me, I took a night bus through the spectacular mountain scenery which separates Serbia and Bosnia and Herzegovina, was on my way to Sarajevo.

Arriving in Sarajevo just before midnight, my lack of planning for this part of my journey became alarmingly clear, as I realised I had no accommodation booked, and the bus station is well out of the city! Fortunately I met up with some teachers from the US, who shared a cab with me, and with the help of one particularly nice householder who didn’t protect their Wi-Fi, I managed to book myself into what has to be one of the worst hostels in Europe. Being the delicate, precious creature you all know I am, I had booked myself (at midnight, so I really shouldn’t complain!) a 10 bed dorm with ensuite, and was rather excited at the prospect of a clean shower and a good night sleep. However, on arrival, I was herded into a 14 bed dorm with no space to swing a cat, no bathroom, no windows, and no chance of a good night sleep! To top it off, the promised Wi-Fi was broken… how is one supposed to backpack the world with no access to Facebook!?! Ridiculous!

Accommodation complaints aside, Sarajevo is a beautiful city, with a picturesque old square and market place, quaint streets and buildings, and the Miljacka River which flows through its centre. I headed out to conquer the old town in the morning, devouring a kebab breakfast (there is no bad time for a kebab (yiros for those playing at home)), and trying to stay dry in the torrential rain, which had decided to follow me across the border. After a kebab for lunch, I headed out of the old town, and into the new city to see the Natural Museum, before a sombre walk through the Bosnia and Herzegovina History Museum, and it’s chilling displays of the Bosnian siege which ran from 1991 to 1995. Walking the museum was by no means a pleasant experience, with the walls covered in images of the injured and dying, the streets under sniper control, and the factories and industry of the country obliterated, however what I found even more difficult to comprehend is that the siege in Bosnia and Herzegovina all happened within my lifetime! As an Australian, with a typical, boring and safe childhood, I can’t even begin to understand how such atrocities can have occurred in the same world I grew up in, and was so safe and comfortable in. For Sarajevo to have gone from such devastation, to the energetic and positive city it is today (even if it does have Europe’s worst hostel!), is definitely a testament to the hardworking, dedicated and wonderful people of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Yet again intending to leave the rain behind, I set out on what was soon to become the most spectacular and unexpectedly beautiful journey of my travels to far, as I took the bus to Podgorica.

Podgorica is the capital of Montenegro, and the bus ride between Sarajevo and Podgorica follows the Tara Canyon through the absolutely indescribable Durmitor National Park. Of course, with the extent of my travel research, I didn’t know any of this before I got on the bus, and was in for a great surprise!!! Durmitor is a 390km² national park, and connects Serbia and Montenegro with a roadway which follows the cliff-faces and banks of some of the parks 18 glacial lakes, weaving and winding through some of the most dramatic, spectacular and breath-taking scenery I have ever seen. The road – which crosses the canyon and river a number of times throughout the journey – is in poor condition, with whole sections of the surface washed away or damaged, and the guardrails are rusted through, with many of them already half way down the cliff-face below. Weaving in and out of the cliff face, through numerous tunnels, and at times what seemed only centimetres from the edge, the bus hurtled along the cliff face, every corner providing yet another unbelievable view, and yet more ‘ooohs and ‘aaahs’ from the few passengers onboard.

Arriving in Podgorica, I was met by Marko, my host for the next few nights, and went to his apartment – which happens to be a little bit of Australia, hiding in the middle of Montenegro!!!

The Australia Tablecloth

Marko is a 29-year-old workaholic, working three completely different jobs to all hours of the night, yet he somehow manages to squeeze some travel into his busy schedule, and also managed to make some time to show me the city he calls home. Marko lives in an apartment in his parents house, and his family are so incredibly nice; welcoming me warily, and then once they decided I was nice enough, feeding me until I could physically fit no more in! His brother, who lives in another apartment in the same house, has two adorable children, and when Eurovision was not entertaining enough, I was kept busy watching their hilarious antics, and trying to teach the four-year-old English. I’m not born to be a teacher!

Breakfast Restaurant

The next morning, we headed out of the city for breakfast, picking up some deep fried rolled cheese and bacon pancakes, which after being fried, are coated in salt. Not at all healthy, but AMAZING! To devour these heart-attack-inducing local treats,  Marko drove me out of town to the balcony of a derelict old restaurant building, which overlooks the city – however the waiters have now been replaced by rats, and the furniture is simple – two milk crates around an oil drum! It was nothing flash, and it’s BYO everything, however it has to be one of the most unique restaurant experiences of my life!!!

With appetites satisfied, and arteries clogged, Marko asked me if I wanted to go to ‘Niagara Falls’ – to which of course I agreed, uncertain if this was a translation error, or if in fact he was offering to buy me a ticket to North America. In fact it was neither – Niagara Falls are actually in Montenegro! About a 20min drive out of the city, we pulled through a large gate, into a place called Niagara. I was a little bit sceptical of what was to come, and already planning how I was going to respond if the place was as kitsch and embarrassing as I was anticipating… however I needn’t have worried – the waterfalls were amazing!!! Not quite the same size as the ‘real’ Niagara, and much less touristy, the waterfalls are part of a river on the outskirts of the city, and I had a great time jumping between the rocks and streams, very much outdoing the kids antics of the night before!

I spent the afternoon walking through the city with Marko’s GoogleMaps tourist guide he made me, exploring the Gorica Hill, the old town, and the new city, before heading backto watch ‘American Pie’ and ‘Love and Other Drugs’ with Marko’s non-English speaking family – an uncomfortable, yet hilarious experience!!! The next morning I headed off early to Bar – a small coastal town in Montenegro – where I took a brief walk through the town, before following the stunning Montenegrin coastline to Ulcinj, and then a connecting bus across the Albanian border to Shkodra – the closest thing to India I have ever seen in Europe!

Shkodra has a population of around 250,000, and I am sure at least 80% can be found riding a motorbike, with no helmet, no regard for road rules, and no idea where they are going on the city’s bumpy (often dirt) roads. For the first time in a couple of months, I was faced with the thrill of crossing the road in such dangerous circumstances – never completely convinced I would reach the opposite side, and always on the look out for wayward motorcycles, farm animals and taxi’s. The city doesn’t have too much to offer tourists, however I did enjoy my afternoon walking to the Castle of Shkodër and Lake Skadar, and exploring the unusual fashions, household appliances, technology and gadgets the many small shops and vendors (yet again, India memories!) had on offer. With a 4:30am wake up the next morning to tackle my ‘somewhat’ planned adventure to Kosovo, it was an early night for me – only to be interrupted 3 times by the mosque tower directly outside my window!!!