History Weekend

This past weekend Lourdes (secretary/art/music teacher) drove me to Extremadura, the autonomous community on the border between Spain and Portugal. We picked up her boyfriend, Luis, in Llerena and drove to Mérida where he works as a fireman. He had to work from 8 pm Friday until 8 am Saturday so she and I spent the night at a hotel. Our hotel was called El Alfarero (the potter). Sinks and mirrors were made out of ceramic (by the father of a firefighter who is friends with Luis). The shower was awesome....sort of. It had a hydro-massage feature and shot water out from all sides. The man told us how to work it, but we still had to use the in-room instruction guide.....and we soaked the floor.

Friday night we wandered Mérida, which is an old Roman town. There are ruins everywhere. We walked down to the main shopping street and immediately noticed one building was higher above the street (it was raised on stilts) that the one next to it. The stilts were to protect the ruins of the ancient Roman road which now sits below the modern road and buildings. Every time someone tries to build something in Mérida, more ruins are discovered (according to Lourdes).

We wandered through an old arch called the Arco Trajano, and headed toward the Puente Romano (Roman Bridge). The Roman bridge, and newer bridges, have a walking path running down the middle of the river below them. We walked around this area snapping pictures. Luis got Lourdes a digital SLR for Christmas, so I'm showing her how to use certain features.

Saturday morning, Luis picked us up and took us to his co-worker's cafe where we had breakfast before visiting one of the two aqueducts in Mérida. Next, we hit the road.

Once in Trujillo, it was clear that we had left Rome behind and traveled into the more-recent past, the era of castles and fortified cities (with buildings constructed as early as the 13th century). In the Plaza Mayor, we were greeted by Fernando Pizzaro, or at least an American-made statue of the Incan conquerer. The town was putting up tents in the plaza for an upcoming cheese festival.

We went into a church located on the plaza, Iglesía San Martín. It was interesting because of all the crypts in the floor of the main part of the church. Gothic in style, it was built in the 15th and 16th centuries. Many palaces are also built around the main plaza. One of these had its family crest carved into the corner of the building (it could be seen from two sides).

We walked uphill to the fortified portion of the city. Entering through an arch, we noticed the change in roadway (paved to cobble stones). Once inside, we went to the Iglesía de Santa María la Mayor.

This church was probably the most interesting one of the weekend. Lourdes and I climbed up the bell tower to see a great view of the city and surrounding hills. We were the only ones up there at the time, unless you count the pigeons, and could take all the pictures we wanted. I had never been in a bell tower where I could stand right below the bells. Usually, there are swarms of people or the bells are higher.

While we were inside the church, Luis discovered the an old convent and hollowed-out church (it had no roof). The convent had been turned into a museum explaining the history of the conquest of America. Many of the conquistadors came from Trujillo and surrounding towns.

Next we went to the Castle, which wasn't nearly as impressive as the one in Jaen. Inside this castle, we could view the underground cistern, where water was stored. We climbed the wall and took pictures from above. We were also able to visit the chapel, newly redone), where a statue of the town's patron virgin looks down on the town from a glass window.

Leaving the older part of the city, we walked past an open-air cistern called an Alberca. Then, we headed down the hill and had lunch at a "famous" restaurant. For 15 euros you basically get a family-style all-you-can-eat meal. Before you order, they bring a tortilla (egg omlet with potatoes), bowl of salad and a plate of chorizo - they also bring a bottle of wine. I would have been fine with just the salad and the toritlla for lunch, but these were only the appetizers. We also got a first and second corse, then dessert. Everything is served in big bowls and you can ask for more of anything you might want (if you have the space). The food was good, but I couldn't eat it all, especially not for lunch.

After our meal, we walked around a bit then headed to Caceres. Lourdes and Luis were staying in a hotel in Caceres, while I stayed at a Pension (cheap-o hotel) on the main plaza. Again, we were met with a tented plaza because of an upcoming celebration, though this one was going to be musical.

After napping, we entered the old part of the city through the Arco de la Estrella (Star Arch). The arch in the fortification wall was constructed at an angle. When you walk through it, you can look up and see that it isn't straight. Our first stop was the Concatedral de Santa María, the biggest church in the Monumental City. Each year the people of the town bring a statue of their virgin down from the mountain and she sits in this church for two weeks. We happened to arrive in Caceres at the beginning of that time, so the church was decorated and full of people. Outside the church, people rubbed the feet on a bronze for good luck.

As soon as we stepped outside, my cell phone rang. This is rare. My cell phone NEVER rings. No one calls me because phone calls here are more expensive than text messages. I knew immediately that it was my mom calling me to tell me that she had received the sweatshirt I sent her. She lost a zip-up hoodie in Serbia and I found a replacement in Córdoba when I was on my way back from our weeklong trip. I sent it, along with her knitting needles, home with Erin's boyfriend who mailed them for me. She was surprised and thrilled, which was basically the reaction I was hoping for...

Back in Caceres, we walked around passing the Plaza San Jorge and Casa del Sol (one of the old palaces with an interesting, decorative facade). Then we went to the Casa de Veletas where we saw a small exhibition of historical objects found in the city and another underground cistern. This time we had to wait in line to enter the cistern, which had islamic-influenced arches.

We walked around the Judería, the oldest part of the Monumental City, where the Jews used to live. It was interesting for me to see street signs, like Calle San Antonio (Saint Anthony St.), with a Star of David in the corner.

Our map showed a tower we could climb, so we set off to find it. It took a while, then wound up to be really short because the city is crowned, so the sides, where the walls and tower are, lie below and look up at the churches and palaces. Slightly disappointed, we set off in search of another underground cistern, this one located inside a small museum with audio-visual representations of the Holy Week processions.

We were getting tired so we headed to a parador for a caffeine break. A parador is a Spanish hotel in an old castle or historic building. There is a whole chain of them (all over the country) and people can visit the cafe and see the building without having to pay for a room. Back outside we went to a building called the Casa de los Monos (House of Monkeys), to see the monkey statue on its facade, and another church, Iglesía San Mateo.

We left the old city and went into modern Caceres where we visited a park-lined street where people often hang out. Instead of relaxing, we checked out a sculpture exhibition on the sidewalk. A local artist had sculpted enormous statues of women's heads with different hairstyles, some made of the same metal as the sculpture and some made of wires and cables.

After a dinner of grilled fish and a gigantic salad, we got frozen yogurt. First we picked toppings, then the yogurt was added to the cup, then more toppings. The yogurts were not flavored (they were all natural flavor), but I mixed mine up with the toppings to create a coconut-dark chocolate-blackberry-raspberry yogurt.

The next morning we drove to Mérida where we went back in time to the Roman era. First we went to the amphitheater and theater, which are both on the same piece of land. The theater is really well-preserved and it was awe-inspiring to imagine shows performed there. The amphitheater was not so interesting; it was a big arena like the mini-Colosseum.

We purchased tickets which allowed us to enter other ruins in addition to these, so we headed to Casa Mitreo and the Area Funeraria de los Columbarios. Casa Mitreo is the ruins of a Roman villa where extremely rich people lived. They had two floors to their house (the lower one was used as bedrooms in the summer months) and incredible mosaics. One was of celestial gods. They were well-preserved and we could get a good sense for how these people lived.

The Area Funeraria de los Columbarios was an area where funeral stones were placed. We could see some above-ground crypts, but it wasn't that interesting.

Next we visited the Alcazaba, a fort-like structure on the river. We wandered down a dark staircase to yet another underground cistern (that's four!, but whose keeping track?). Then we walked through an old villa and chapel and up to the wall where we took some pictures with the two bridges in the background (Roman and new).

We walked up a main street passing the Templo de Diana (Diana's Temple) and Foro Municipal (Municipal Forum), checking out the ruins along the way.

We made it to the National Museum of Roman Art 20 minutes before it was scheduled to close (Sundays are free). Inside we saw original statues (the ones at the theater were copies) and mosaics that had been discovered in the town.

After lunch (I had grilled veggies!!!) we stopped at another parador for caffeine. This one was in an old convent. Once the monuments opened again (everything closes for siesta), we headed to the Crypt of Santa Eulalia. She's the patron saint for the city and the crypt was actually the entire basement of a church in her name. We could see tons of crypts and the bases of the columns that held up the church, but we couldn't enter the church because it's only open during mass.

Our final stop in Mérida was the Roman Circus (and a glance at another aqueduct across the street). This circus was much more preserved than it's Roman counterpart (the one in Rome). The side walls could be seen, as could the center island area. Inside we watched a video simulation of what it would have been like to see a race during the Roman era.

It was a great weekend, filled with Spanish history. I had not realized how many castles are all over Spain. When driving to Llerena from Mérida, Luis pointed out some which are used as private houses. Luis and Lourdes were so nice to take me on this trip. She had lived north of Caceres when she started teaching, he lived in Caceres while at university and he works in Mérida, but hadn't seen all the touristy stuff. This meant they were great guides and generally interested in seeing this stuff too. Extremadura is interesting because it's greener than Andalucía and was home to so many conquistadors. It's also currently home to a million storks. They are all over the cities and make tons of noise when smacking their beaks. (Lourdes and I took lots of pictures of them!).

Peculiar Post

I forgot to write about this....

My great-aunt sent me a card recently and I noticed that it had two postmarks on it. The first one reads RIVA MD. Mar 31 2009 USPS. The second one is French and reads Deavuville 3-4 2009 Calvados.

So basically it takes three days for a card to get from Maryland to a small town on the Normandy coast (not far from some places I'll be visiting this summer)...and then it comes to Spain?

There was a "Par Avion" sticker on the envelope, but my Spanish address was correct. Why, then, was my card diverted to France before arriving here in Priego?

Mini Semana Santa (Holy Week)

During Semana Santa (Holy Week) groups from each church in town build floats (essentially statues of Jesus nailed to wooden platforms) that the men carry, on their necks or heads, through the town. I missed this celebration because I chose to get out of Spain and go to the Balkans. (I still view this as a good choice because the entire country gets vacation during Semana Santa, and really, who wants to deal with that?)

Because I wasn't here to see the "real thing," Lourdes took me to Aguilar, about 45 km from Priego, to see the children's version. Groups of kids carried smaller versions of the floats through the streets of this smaller-than-Priego city. The entire town comes out to watch the kids as they march. It's like the Harrington Park Memorial Day parade except here the kids are carrying a wooden platform on their backs and the adults are playing the music (two bands...).

Aguilar was cute: we went to visit Lourdes's best friend, her husband and their ten-month-old. They're awesome parents because they are extremely interested in having their son learn English, they have Baby Genius Videos!, and play music, he has a drum and a trumpet. They want him to be smart and they're starting right away. Their apartment was really nice - they just put on an addition to the kitchen, added an office and a terrace. For lunch we had roast chicken, and they even found me a coffee flavored meringue (no wheat!) for dessert.

After lunch we walked around the town some more: the main plaza is octagonal, there were many bakeries and cafes (all of which were open, even though it was Sunday!). We also visited a church with a wooden arched roof over its nave. This was interesting to see because it still had the wooden chorus at the back and one of the Semana Santa floats was in a side chapel. After seeing the church, we went up a hill to see the "castle," which was nothing more than a few rocks. The views were incredible: Lourdes and her friends had fun trying to figure out which town was which.

We didn't wind up getting back to Priego until after 8pm (almost 9 hours after we left!). It was a fun, but tiring day. It never seemed to end because they kept forgetting to show me something really important, "Oh no! We HAVE to show Rachel this church....Oh no! We HAVE to show Rachel the castle. Rachel has to see the tower! The plaza!"

Almendinilla and Alcala la Real

Saturday Lourdes and I left Priego at 10am and drove to Almedinilla to see the Villa Romana (Roman Villa) there. A few years ago, engineers were attempting to lay a new road and they discovered a house from the Roman era.

The lower parts of its walls were still intact as were some frescoes and four floor mosaics. The house was quite large and even had a sauna inside. There were some slaves quarters, but these were mostly destroyed.

We were able to visit the villa with a guide because a tour group arrived the same time we did. He explained how the people lived and how their walk-in oven worked. He helped work on the excavation and was VERY ANGRY about the new road. (He made this perfectly clear as he talked.)

After the villa, he suggested we accompany the group up to the Pueblo Ibero (Iberian town), which is only open to groups or by appointment. We agreed: Lourdes had never been there and was interested in seeing it. The Iberian people were the first people to live on the Iberian Peninsula (namesake...duh). All that remains of their town is a few houses and stores. However, these houses are the oldest surviving structures made of mud and straw. You can actually still see the straw sticking out of the walls. The town was interesting and, like everywhere in Andalucía, the views from the hilltop were spectacular.

After Almeninilla, we headed down the road (which is sort of a country route) to Alcala la Real. We knew we had gotten there too late to see the castle during its morning hours, so we grabbed a map at tourist info and walked around the town.

The only place open was a church, inside which people were dressing a statue of a virgin. The church was nice, but nothing special. We climbed up through the town to get a view of the castle, which is really more of a fortress, from it's hight.

After grilled calamari and an awesome/bizarre salad (raw green peppers, roasted red peppers, oranges and tomatoes) for lunch, we drove up to the castle.

Inside the stone walls and gates we found the remains of a mini-city: the foundations of houses, taverns, stores, and military quarters still remain. In addition, the church and lookout towers are largely intact. The place felt somewhat like Pompeii except that it was on top of a hill overlooking lush green fields, with the snow-covered Sierra Nevada (yes, I know that's redundant) in the distance.

The church was my favorite part because it didn't have a floor. The crypts had been opened and we could see into the holes. The church had been built and reconstructed over many years; a computer screen told us which stones were from the different phases of construction.

While we were up there, it started to rain, so we headed for the car to go back to Priego. Getting out of Alcala was a pain because the map didn't say which direction the streets went. Many were tight and steep, so we didn't want to risk going down them to have to turn around. We got directions from locals, but they don't own cars and didn't know they were sending us down the hill to an intersection at which we could only turn back up the hill. We finally made it back to Priego, tired and chilly, but satisfied with our "history adventure."

Priego, what a big place...

Third-grade English is learning about cities and towns. The song accompanying the lesson goes like this:

City or country,

Where do you live?

Is your town small?

Or is your town big?

Ana and I acted out the song in the front of the classroom, spreading our hands for "big" and bringing them together for "small."

When we asked the students about Priego, huge smiles spread on their faces as they shouted, "big!"

We just looked at each other and shrugged. To these kids, Priego is huge, all they have as comparison are the little villages around it.

Jobs for Next Year

Yes, I will post about my travels. Soon. I promise.

Back to Priego means back to school. Tuesday was the first day of classes after Semana Santa (Holy Week). It was also the day the Junta de Andalucía announced teaching posts for next year. Sole and Lourdes will still be at Virgen de la Cabeza. Guillermo (the PE teacher) can move to a town near Madrid if he choses. David is being sent to Villanueva de San Juan, Sevilla - a town even smaller than Priego, with less than 1500 people, and even more isolated. These decisions are not etched in stone and the government has to solidify them in a few weeks. With regard to Lourdes, she is supposed to be marrying Luis soon. He works, as a firefighter, in another part of Spain and cannot move. She has asked to move and was denied the transfer. I thought she would have been crushed, but she's not. She almost seems relieved by this news, but she still swears she wants to marry him.

The Junta lets people know about their post via an online form. Watching everyone take turns using Lourdes's computer to check their status was like hearing about our college decisions. Everyone got really nervous right before clicking "send." After their decision popped up, they immediately moved aside to let the next person go. Everyone was so curious about their colleagues' new posts. It was great to be part of the excitement. I haven't told them, but I made my decision yesterday as well. I'm going to Israel in August. I'll be living in Tel Aviv for two years. During that time, I will be getting a Masters Degree in Teaching English as a Second Language from Bar Ilan University. At the same time, I'll be teaching English and taking Hebrew classes.

My brother also got a summer internship. He'll be working in the city at the New York Historical Society.

Madrid to Priego

Saying good-bye at the airport was strange because usually I'm the one getting on the plane. I don't think I've ever dropped my mother off at an airport. In Rome we were both getting onto planes and I got off the bus first (she had to continue to her terminal). Here, she went through security and I had to walk away and go get on the metro. It was strange.

I took the metro to the Reina Sofia and went to see Guernica. I was somewhat underwhelmed by the museum, which may be due to the fact that I was really tired. Guernica was interesting to see. It's by itself in a room with two guards on either side of it. They don't let you within six feet of the painting, pictures are strictly forbidden and you are not allowed to sit on the floor and look at the painting. In addition to this room, there are two rooms which house Picasso's studies and smaller works he used to create Guernica and there's another room dedicated to other artist's works in response to Guernica. In this room, I found a mobile and a stabile by Alexander Calder, one of my faves. The rest of the museum had tons of modern Spanish art. There were a few Dalí paintings, but I'd seen better ones in the US.

I left the museum, got another Starbucks cappuccino and crossed the street to Atocha (the main train station in Madrid). I got on my train and two hours later was in sunny, warm Cordoba. I had two hours to wander around Cordoba during which I went to Corte Ingles and got some salad for dinner, bought bus tickets to go back to Madrid for a long weekend and recharged my cell phone (I was out of money). Then Ana picked me up and drove me to Priego. Along the way, we watched the temperature go down five degrees (almost ten degrees in Fahrenheit), which was so depressing. It's also been rainy and gross here.....coming back is so hard.

Madrid: Eggs and Art (plus Starbucks!)

We slept late Easter Sunday and then headed to the Mercado del Rastro in Madrid. It's basically a tourist-trap/flea market. It was insanely busy; we couldn't even walk at times. We tried to make our way down one of the streets, but couldn't even see when the market was going to end.

Instead, we went for lunch at a tavern Maria Jose and David had recommended to us. It was called "Los Huevos de Lucío" (Lucío's Eggs) and apparently even the King dines there (as does Bruce Springsteen whose photo was on the wall). We each had fried eggs and French fries (the standard plate), but I got ratatouille on mine. We made it to the restaurant just in time to beat the lunchtime rush. We actually got there before they opened (five minutes earlier) and they were all freaked out, "we're closed! We're not open yet!" We waited in the bar area for them to finish getting ready. By the time we left (3o minutes later), every table was taken and you couldn't even get to the door to get out. There are only about 15 tables in the place, but it was completely packed. Lunch was tasty and the eggs and fries made a great combo for Sunday brunch.

We hopped on the metro and headed to the Paseo del Prado where all of the museums are located. The Reina Sofia, which houses Picasso's Guernica, had just closed, so we got some Starbucks instead. Mom ate a chocolate ice cream pop as we walked back up the Paseo to the Prado museum. I was somewhat underwhelmed by the Spanish art at the Prado. I'm not that into Goya (he's got 1/3 of the museum), but I did enjoy seeing the "Third of May 1808." I actually think I liked Picasso's take on Velazquez's "Las Meninas" better than the original. (In Barcelona we saw an exhibit where Picasso had done 60 paintings inspired by the Velazquez original.) I was way more interested in seeing Fra Angelico's "The Annunciation" and Bosch's "The Garden of Earthly Delights." Bosch was a complete nutcase. His paintings were fantastic to see in person. They're so complex and intricate, which mini-scenes throughout the larger picture. We also really enjoyed a special exhibit from France. It was called "Sleeping Beauty" and featured a painting by Lord Leighton Frederic called "Flaming June" that was just exquisite. A girl sleeps curled up in a chair; she's wearing an orange/peach dress and the gold frame works really well with the extremely vibrant colors of the painting.

We were pretty exhausted by the time we left the museum, but we headed to the Puerto del Sol (central shopping area of Madrid) where we found pretty much all of the stores were open even though it was (Easter) Sunday! I'm used to Spain being a ghost town on Sundays, so this was a refreshing surprise. MANGO didn't have the sweatshirt, but we did go to Corte Ingles to get me wheat-free cookies and wander around a bit. We checked out some of the clothing floors. The store is absolutely ridiculous. It's huge and you can buy everything there: food, clothes, plants, washing machines. You can even plan a trip around the world (they have a travel agency) and have your dry cleaning done while you shop!

We went to a cafe for dinner. I had a turkey sandwich (I took it off the bread) and Mom had a grilled cheese. It was an uneventful, uninteresting last meal together, but then we got Ben and Jerry's for dessert! The B&J's line for fresh, hot Belgian waffles was much longer than the line for ice cream, which made us laugh because, to us, Ben and Jerry's primary food offering is their ice cream. Waffles are an afterthought.

We took the metro back to the hotel, got ready for bed and watched some CNN.

The next morning we ate breakfast and went to the airport. I waited until Mom was through security. They took her knitting needles away from her, but luckily I was there to get them and she was able to fix her sweater when she got home. I'm going to send them to her.

Sofia: Rila and other Religious Places

We walked to the hotel because it was close and we were early (and needed some fresh air). The roads were treacherous to say the least. Sidewalks in Sofia do not have wheelchair dips at intersections; basically, you're lucky if the sidewalk is one flat surface. Most of them were torn up and falling apart. Some were stones, which hurt my hands while I pulled our suitcase along.

The hotel was up two flights of stairs. It contained private rooms and a small sitting area where coffee and tea were being prepared. We happily accepted some tea and declined the cakes set out in the middle of the table. We chatted with other guests to get a sense of the city and what we should see.

Two people we met were Maria Jose and David, a Spanish couple planning on renting a car and driving around Bulgaria for a week. They generously offered to drive us to Rila Monastery that morning, after they picked up the rental car. We thought this was a great idea because it meant we didn't have to figure out the buses. First we hailed a taxi to take us to the car rental place. This was quite a challenge because the first taxi didn't want to drive us there and other ones completely ignored us. Luckily one agreed to take us. It took a while for the Spanish to agree on a car because David only speaks Spanish and Maria Jose (who speaks English and Spanish) had to translate between him and the rental guy. (I was NOT getting involved.)

Along the two-hour drive, we chatted about Spain and I think I learned more in those two hours than I had learned in all the months I've been living here. They gave us an idea of what life in Spain was like before Spain joined the EU. In the 1950s, people were lucky if they had one car and in many pueblos indoor plumbing was unheard of. There were almost no highways in Spain until the 1980s and 90s when money started coming in from other EU countries. This helped me to understand Priego a bit better.

We got to the town of Rila which is at the bottom of the snow-covered Rila Mountains. From there we followed a windy country road to the monastery. It was founded in 927 AD and moved to its current location in 1355. The monastery is currently used as a hotel, and we were able to visit its courtyard and church. It was a very colorful building: the balconies were red and white. The church was complete covered with frescoes. These were unlike any frescoes I had seen before because they were outside in small domes above what can only be described as the church's front porch. Inside it was dark, like many of the other orthodox churches we visited. The vibrantly painted frescoes were interesting to look at, although I'm not really sure of the meaning behind most of them.

We snapped some pictures and said "adios" to our Spanish amigos who were heading south. Then, we got on the bus bound for Sofia. This bus went through a whole bunch of tiny towns (remember we're only 100km from the CAPITAL city) in which people used horses to get around. The majority of the economy seemed to be based on agriculture and generally roads were in disarray. It took a little more than three hours to get to the Sofia regional bus station, four miles from the center of the city. We hopped on a tram (after a confusing attempt to tell the driver where we were going), paid, and punch-validated our tickets. Luckily a guy on the tram spoke English and was able to tell me how to get to Blvd. Vitosha, the main shopping street in the city.

Wandering down Vitosha we found our next destination, MANGO. A few women working there understood some English, but we couldn't find my mom's sweatshirt anywhere. It had been on sale in Barcelona, so I wasn't really expecting to find it here. We then went to dinner at a place recommended to us by our Spanish friends. The restaurant was called Divaka and it served grilled seafood (and meat) and tons of salads! I got a shopska salad and smoked mackerel. Shopska is awesome. I shouldn't really eat it because it has cheese, but it has the only cheese I really like - white, salty Balkan cheese. It's kind of like feta, but it's not feta. It's better. The rest of the salad is tomato and cucumber with red onion and green pepper (these are optional. Shopska has to have tomato, cucumber and the cheese). Mom got a more American-style salad and pan-seared salmon. We were quite content.

Back at the hostel, I got another great night sleep, while Mom barely slept. Before bed we showered (we were super gross at this point). This shower was a hand-held one but didn't have a place to hang the nozzle to the wall; it was also located in the middle of the room rather than in an enclosed space. I have encountered these before, so I tried to give my mom a usage lesson....we still managed to soak the place. Actually, it probably would have been fine if the drain worked properly.

The next morning we slept late. Our first stop was the Ladies' Market - a combination produce and flee market where you could buy anything from bras to handmade brooms to kiwi the size of softballs or cabbage the size of basketballs. Instead of all that, we bought a banana. The market was chaotic and crowded. It stretched on for blocks and across streets. Some stands were inside, some outside. We were horrified by the lack of sanitation (I've seen this all over the world) as we watched a woman use her bare hand to put a cut of meat in the window of her stall - right up against the foggy plexiglass.

Next we walked by the Sofia Synagogue. The domed roof reminded me of an orthodox cathedral, while the sides were more like buildings in Andalucía. The windows looked like those at the Alhambra. Around the corner we ate lunch at a different market. This one was indoors and the building had been a market since 1909. Mom got pizza and took the meat off of it. I had roasted eggplant and zucchini and more cabbage salad! We were basically eating in a mall food court. Then we got some fruit and went across the street to a plaza to eat it.

Sofia was built in its location because of the natural springs that bring water into the city. One of these just behind the plaza. I wandered over to see it and found a series of facets. Locals were filling empty five-liter bottles with the tepid water. Some people had as many as ten of these jugs waiting to be filled. While Mom knit for a while, I went into a mall to see if they had a MANGO. They didn't. However, the mall did have energy-saving escalator ramps which moved really slowly until they sensed that a person was standing on them.....very cool!

As I was exiting the mall, I could see a mosque (the call to prayer was sounding) and the market and synagogue in the background. It was interesting to see such a blend of religious buildings with historical buildings while I was exiting such a capitalist institution (with Hanson's "Mmm Bop" playing in the background).

Next we walked to Sveti Nedelya Cathedral. It was built between 1856 and 1863 on the foundation of other churches. It's basically the center of the city and 120 people were killed there in 1925 when communists set off a bomb in an attempt to kill Tsar Boris III (he survived). From the church, we walked through the Sheraton Hotel to the Sveti Georgi Rotunda, which is the oldest preserved building in Sofia. It's from the 4th century AD and was used as both a church and a mosque over the years. We could see five layers of fresco painting on the dome and outside the church were Roman ruins. Mom bought a cross and history booklet from the woman working the info booth/concession stand.

Continuing our tour of churches, we stopped next at the Russian Church, which was ugly and dark inside. We couldn't really see anything except a group of people who were either praying or attending some sort of religious class. Outside, however, the church was beautifully decorated with gold domes and a colorful facade.

The final stop on our church tour was Alexander Nevski Cathedral, a huge (I really think it might have been bigger than Belgrade's Sveti Sava) orthodox church. Again, the inside was disappointingly dark. I'm not sure if it was supposed to be dark or if it was just dirty. People were lighting candles (in all of the churches), but here the cleaning woman was taking them and blowing them all out. This made me laugh because people continued to buy the candles and light them and she just went along blowing them out and even throwing some out.

Walking towards Vitosha and the shopping section of town we stopped at a grocery store where I bought orange and lemon gummy slices (the kind sold in America during Passover). We also stopped to check out a street market, but this one was for books. We tried to find a knitting magazine for Mom, but could only find crochet magazines. We stopped into McDonald's to use the bathroom and Mom wanted a chocolate milkshake. I didn't think this was going to be easy, but the guy A.) spoke English, B.) knew what I was talking about, and C.) actually had milkshakes! As we were exiting I saw a Starbucks cup on a garbage pail. I picked it up and removed the cup sleeve from it. I then asked the first group of young, hip looking people I saw if they knew where it was. They told me it was really far away, so I opted not to go in search of it.

Mom and I wandered a bit more and stumbled upon another Divaka (apparently there are two). We decided we had better eat something before heading to the airport where our options would be seriously limited. We got more salads. I got shopska, she got a Picasso salad (red cabbage, broccoli and carrots) and we split a chicken and cabbage salad. It was a yummy and veggie-filled meal (our favorite kind!).

Then, it was back to the hostel for one last email check and off to the airport!

Our flight to Madrid was uneventful. I got to board before Mom because I had checked-in online. Apparently Easy-Jet gives you preferential boarding if you check-in online (who knew?!?!). I got us two seats together in the front of the plane and we napped the whole way to Spain. Once we arrived, we got our stuff and went to the hotel to get some sleep. It was nice to be back to a place where I speak the language and can understand what's going on.

Train from Belgrade to Sofia

On board the train, we found our cabin. Inside were two bunk beds, pillows and blankets. A small sink in the corner was covered by a drop-down counter (you had to lift it up to get to the sink). We were also given "goodie bags:" slippers, washcloths and bars of soap. It was really cute. The train was creaky and made lots of interesting noises, but I was able to sleep pretty well. (Mom wasn't.)

Customs and immigration people came to our cabin at around 4:45am when we finally reached the border. The Serbians stamped us out without asking many questions. The Bulgarian immigration people didn't really care much either. The two Bulgarian customs officials wanted to question us, but couldn't. The first guy said something I didn't understand. My mom told him that we only spoke English. We were holding our US passports open to the photo page with the inch-high "USA" above our pictures. The man looked at us and shouted, "Ah, Australia!", to which I replied, "No, amerikanka" (which I'm pretty sure means female American in either Serbo-Croat or Bulgarian - or both - .....maybe). Anyway, he figured he couldn't do much, so he split, leaving the other guy to try to ask us where we were headed. I put a huge smile on my face and said, "we're going to Sofia for one night and then we're flying to Spain!" He grunted and moved on.

We arrived in Sofia at 7am (we later figured out that it was actually 8am). At the train station, Mom ate a McTasty (two pancakes with ham and cheese melted between them). There were a bunch of British guys from our train who were eating the same thing. She also got an orange juice, which amazing tastes just like McDonald's oj in the states.

Belgrade: Modern and Fashionable

I don't know why, but I had excepted Belgrade to be more backwards or more ruined. I knew the war damages were mostly towards the end of the 1990s when NATO bombed the city. Instead we found a much more bustling city than Sarajevo (Belgrade's population is nearly three times that of Sarajevo) and a more modern city.

Our first stop was Sveti Sava, the world's largest Serbian Orthodox Church, or at least that's what it will eventually be. It was started in the 1930s, but construction was interrupted by WWII, communism, and the 1990s war. So, it's still being built, which means you can go inside and take all the photos you want! (If you can breath through all the dust.) Green marble adorns the walls of this domed building, which should be quite nice when complete. Altars have been set up and people use them to pray. One thing that really struck me was the police man stationed inside the church in a security booth. His booth was not to the side of an entrance door, rather it was located against a wall under the center dome. I had never seen that in a place of worship. It's one thing to have security inside church grounds, it's another to have him in the middle of the church.

Outside the church we walked by the national library (on the same plaza) and stopped at the fountain. We spotted a girl wearing a bathrobe and slippers, which was bizarre to see in a city where fashion is highly regarded.

To get to the center of the city (the more touristy area), we tried to take a bus. I paid the man with a 200 dinar note (about $3US), but he didn't have 40 dinars to give us as change. He said something to us in Serbo-Croat and we tried to explain that we were American and had no idea what he was saying. Luckily a woman was able to translate and help us. She told us to ride the bus anyway and that she would tell the control man why we had no ticket if he was to get on and search. She taught English at a university and Spanish at a high school. Her English was great and she took us to the street we were trying to find. She also explained that people in Belgrade work from 9am-3pm or 3pm-8pm which is why there were so many people on the buses at that time. She was wearing green heels, tight jeans and a black sweater with a v-neck in the back. Her bag and huge necklace were green as well. She was so fashionable, especially for a teacher on her way home from work. (I was wearing my army green parachute pants that are way too big on me - for the third day in a row.)

Anyway, she guided us to the Knez Mihailova, a pedestrian street, where we used the internet to book a room in Sofia and look up the location of every MANGO in Belgrade and Sofia. The cafe was located in a bookstore which was full of books in English as well as Serbo-Croat (in both Latin and Cyrillic letters). We browsed and found tons of familiar books in Cyrillic - I took pictures, the guard got angry and yelled at me in Serbo-Croat.

We tried to find the MANGO on the pedestrian street, but it had been moved to a new mall across the river. Instead of shopping, we ate popcorn and people-watched while sitting on a planter in the middle of the street. Many people were dressed to the nines in bizarre outfits which incorporated patterned tights, midriff-bearing shirts, and super high heels. We laughed at the ridiculous color combinations as I tried to photograph as many people as I could.

We walked to the end of the street and up into the Kalemegdan, a former fortress and now a park. I explored while my mom rested on a bench. I was most excited to climb to the highest point of the fortress and look out over the Danube River. The park was filled with people, mostly locals. Again, we did some more people-watching, spotting things like combination ballet flat-espadrilles......so ugly.

Exiting from the park, we decided to have an early dinner (we hadn't really eaten lunch and our breakfast was on the bus at 7am). We chose another Lonely Planet place, which the woman at tourist info had recommended. At Tratoria Kosova, an Italian restaurant near the center of Belgrade, I ate more cabbage salad (!!!) and seafood risotto while mom had a lettuce salad and gnocchi. Then we went across the street to a grocery store to stock up on snacks. We were afraid we wouldn't have enough dinars to get back to the bust station, so Mom charged $2US worth of water, fruit and candy.

It was still early, so we walked around a bit more. We spotted a woman with a MANGO back and asked her where the store was. Thank goodness she understood English because I'm pretty sure we freaked her out. Unfortunately she told us the store was far away, on the other side of the river. We continued along, stopping to look at the Hotel Moskova (Moscow) and a fountain outside it. Then we went in search of ice cream. I wanted coffee, which was not going to happen, so I settled for a fruit flavor (I should have gotten chocolate). This was probably the most difficult communication experience of the trip.....I wanted my ice cream in a cup. They didn't have proper ice cream cups, so instead I had it in a drinking cup and had to eat it with two straws. My mom wanted her ice cream in a cone. This was possible (and the preferred method for serving), but I didn't realize that I had to pay for the cone. It wasn't a lot of money, I was just confused. The woman kept pointing to a sign written in Cyrillic expecting me to somehow magically understand that the sign said the ice cream is one price, the cone is extra. I couldn't figure out why they priced it this way if they basically only offer cones (my cup request caused a bit of a commotion).

Back at the train station, we decided to brush our teeth and get ready for bed before boarding. Mom went first to the bathroom while I watched our stuff. When it was my turn, I walked over there brushing my teeth. The guy was really confused and acted like I was a complete freak for brushing my teeth in public...the nerve of me! Anyway, I finished brushing, used the Turkish toilet and was washing my face when the guy comes into the bathroom to wash his hands. Of course, the first thing through my mind is, "Oh shit, I'm in the men's room!" No, no, no. I was in the women's bathroom. I confirmed this by pointing to myself and pointing next door (to which he replied, "no"). I was pretty sure I had picked the right one because I chose the one with the "z" on the door and the Serbo-Croat word for women begins with a z when written in Latin letters.

The man kept repeating a word which sounded like "serbieski" and pointing to himself. He would shake his head, say "no serbieski" and point to me, and then shrug his shoulders. This went on for three or four rounds before I realize that he was asking me where I was from. I told him America, washed my hands and got out of there.

Sarajevo to Belgrade: Cher and a Missing Sweatshirt

We had to wake up at 4:30am to make it to our 6am bus out of Sarajevo. I used the internet while Mom got ready. Because of the time difference, I was able to talk to some of my friends in the States.

We checked out and took a taxi to the bus station. On the way, we ran almost every yellow-red light (in Bosnia, lights run red-yellow-green-yellow-red so cars can shift into gear and go as soon as it changes to green). We were also treated to a Cher (and other tacky Western music) jam-session....at 5:30am. Passing the Ashkenazi Synagogue and Eiffel Bridge, built by the same guy whose tower stands in Paris, we arrived at the bus station.

Our bus ride out of Bosnia was totally uneventful, until we reached the border. The Bosnian customs official boarded the bus and searched through our bags stopping to examine medicine. First up was my Epi-Pen, which he seemed to recognize. I showed him my allergy paper and he moved on. Next was the bottle of Zyrtec, which he didn't know actually contained Zyrtec, Centrum and Caltrate. It said allergy and I mimed sneezing to explain its function. He asked if there was more medicine, I said there wasn't. Finally he pulled out a tampon and began to examine it. When he realized what he was holding, he dropped it quickly and zipped the bag. Our interrogation was over.

In Serbia, we were met with a female immigration official who took our passports into her office, stamped them and brought them back to us. She didn't ask us any questions. I was expecting her to say something about my Kosovo stamps, or at least ask me why I had been there. She didn't, so we were soon on our way.

Serbian roads were awful: potholes, broken bits, paver-style stones. This made sleeping almost impossible. It didn't help that the bus made an awful squeaking sound.

We stopped at a roadside restaurant where we watched two men carry an entire roasted pig on a spit from a small roaster/barbeque on the side of the road, through the dusty parking lot and into the back of the restaurant. We had brought snacks with us and did not eat at the place. We did, however, use their Turkish toilets. When we got back on the road, my mom realized her sweatshirt was missing. We had left a bunch of stuff on the bus (not any valuables), so we thought maybe someone had taken it. The girl behind us, who spoke English, told us that someone had seen a sweatshirt in the bathroom, but no one know whose it was. This was the sweatshirt we bought at MANGO in Barcelona. It was the only zip-up my mom had with her and she really liked it. We were relieved to find out that no one had stolen it because we didn't want to think these people would do that.

We arrived in Belgrade at 2pm and went across the street to the train station. I bought us tickets for a train that night to Sofia, we put our bags at a left luggage facility and grabbed a map from tourist info. Welcome to city number five!

Sarajevo: Another Bridge and Passover

Our hotel in Sarajevo was a B&B where we had our own bathroom and free internet. This pleased my mother. The first night, she and I wandered into the old part of the city and went to a traditional restaurant called Pod Lipom. We decided to try some local wines. Mom's was from Slovenia and tasted almost like vinegar. Mine was from Montenegro and was really good. The waiter told us that Bosnian wines are terrible. We both ate salads - mine was just cabbage! My favorite! Then Mom had homemade pasta with salty Balkan cheese and I had grilled chicken and spinach. On the way back to the hotel, we walked around some mosques and an old fountain.

Our hotel, Kandilj Pansion, was across the river from the old part of the city. To get there, we had to cross the Latinska Cuprija, Latin Bridge, site of the 1914 assassination of the Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand. His shooting is often billed as one of the events which set off WWI. The bridge was small, just barely wide enough for a car to cross. When we crossed during the day, there were women selling goods, mostly bras, on it. I was thrilled to visit the bridge because of it's role in world history. It's something I had always learned in class, "Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, was shot on a bridge in Sarajevo." Before I even knew what or where Sarajevo was, I could recite this sentence.

The next morning I ate breakfast in the hotel....with eight guys from Turkey who, through their translator, invited me to drinks or dinner later that evening. They were on their way to Mostar, and I happily declined the invitation by saying that I was going to be needing to wake up early the following morning. They also served me Bosnian tea, which wasn't really special except for that they put tons of sugar in it.

We started the day by taking a tram to the National Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina. We bought the wrong tickets (for a bus on our side of the river) and had to buy new ones when we boarded the tram....oops! When we got to the museum, we were across the street from the Holiday Inn Hotel. The ugly yellow box of a building was home to journalists during the 1994-5 siege of Sarajevo. The street between the hotel and museum is nicknamed Snipers' Ally: during the war, snipers hung out on the roves of the buildings shooting people who tried to escape the city by way of this main road.

We had come to the museum to see the Sarajevo Haggadah, the oldest Sephardic book of its kind and an illuminated manuscript. It was written/put together in Barcelona in 1530, but came to Sarajevo when Sephardic Jews were kicked out of Spain. The museum was a let down because the book was located in a small room behind glass. A glass case held the book in the center of the enclosed room, meaning we couldn't see anything. An interactive multi-media display let us flip through the book, but in the end, we wound up buying a reproduction copy to read at home. Outside the museum, I wandered through their "botanical garden" which was a small courtyard filled with labeled plants, many of which appeared to be dead or dying. There were also Bosnian tombstones called stechak, which are said to have originated half a millennium ago. They were ornately carved and decorative.

After the museum, we tried again to use our "bad" bus tickets, but we were on the wrong side of the river, so we had to buy new ones. We made our way back to the hotel and then went across to the old city. First we went to see men playing chess in Oslobejnia square, just outside the Serbian Orthodox church. The game was interesting to watch because one man, wearing a sleeveless shirt, was in charge of everything. All of the other men wore coats and layers as they stood in a circle around the chess board. The two men playing the match grabbed their 18-inch- high pieces as they yanked each other's pawns out of the way. The men allowed me to sit on the ground taking pictures. Next we set off to find lunch, first passing the national theater.

We wound up eating at a cafe called Michelle. I had grilled veggies and Mom had a huge calzone stuffed with cheese, turkey and mushrooms (I ate the turkey). We had to share a table because it was crowded. The other man at our table, who didn't speak until we were leaving, had been a refugee in Kentucky. He said he didn't understand much English, but his son was still living there and he was happy to have been outside Sarajevo during the war. An American in army fatigues sat at another table in the cafe. He was with another man (in street clothes) and they were later joined by a man from the Turkish army, in fatigues. I could hear them speaking English, but I'm not sure what their relationship was nor do I know what they were doing there. Later on, we did see a car with NATO license plates driving through the city.

After lunch we went to Markale Market, site of a 1994 bombing. A memorial wall stood at the back of the market, on it were the names of the victims: Serbs, Croats and Bosniaks (Muslims). A man explained the names to us and told us there were 35 deaths and almost 100 injuries. Near the market we found a meat shop which displayed its goods in the window. Through animal noises, I was able to figure out that the 4-foot long side of an animal was "mooo" (beef) and the legs were "bahhh" (lamb).

Next we wandered along the tram tracks to the Jewish Museum and Sephardic Synagogue, built in the 1960s. The synagogue was modern and freezing cold inside (because of stone walls). The museum was added to the synagogue because during the 1994 war all Jewish items were moved to this space. These included lists of Holocaust victims, photos from WWII, and objects explaining Pesach.

Back into the old city, we entered the courtyard of the Bey Mosque, a space open to tourists, in which we were even allowed to take pictures. Then we continued along to the Morica Han, an old inn from the Ottoman period. We were able to see the courtyard, but the inside has been converted into restaurants and cafes.

We spent some time shopping and browsing in the old city. Mom bought a shawl from a nonprofit which sells works made by Bosnian women. Money from the sales goes to rebuilding efforts in their villages and each piece comes with a tag telling stating where and by whom it was made.

After our shopping stop, we went to the Pigeon Fountain and old town hall building, which is still in ruins. Then we crossed the river and walked by the Sarajevo brewery on our way to Saint Anthony's Church. The red building was decorated with modern paintings, statues, and stained glass. There was no holy water on the premises, but we were able to purchase a candle for Mom to light.

After a rest at the hotel, we went back out, stopping first to pick up some snacks for our early morning journey to Belgrade. Then we went back to Markale where we bought some fruit just as the stands were closing. We were on our way to a restaurant behind the market. Karuzo specialized in fish and vegetarian dishes, a rarity in the meat-filled Balkans. The place was small, and most people inside were foreigners (and women) - a few Americans and a mother-daughter pair from Scandinavia. We each had a glass of red wine from KOSOVO! I didn't know they produced wine, but it was really good. For dinner, I had red risotto - tomato sauce, zucchini and shrimp - while Mom ordered fruit and tofu risotto - chopped pieces of tofu, broccoli, carrots, eggplant, peppers, pears and raisins. It was an interesting combination of sweet and savory, but the spices were dead on and this was probably one of the best dishes we had all trip. During the dinner, I ran a small Passover Seder for us. We read from an abridged version of the haggah and didn't have matzoh (I'm allergic to it anyway), but it was still really nice to be able to celebrate. It was also probably the shortest Seder either of us had ever been to, especially considering that there were only two of us. We certainly did not do all four cups of wine: we wanted to be able to find the hotel again. We did do the ten plagues and read through Dayenu. I had originally wanted to attend a Seder in Belgrade or Sofia. I had even contacted Chabbad organizations there. However, with the change in dates because Mom's flight being delayed, we were not able to make it to either of those cities by Passover. I didn't think we'd even be able to have a Passover Seder, so this was a pleasant surprise.

Mostar: Becks and a Bridge

Our first night in Bosnia was a good one (for me).

First we had to find an ATM, which wouldn't have been difficult had we started looking on the "tourist street." We wound up there....after I asked for a "bankomat" five or six times. After grabbing some cash, we decided to go with a Lonely Planet recommendation (another thing I HATE doing) and went to ABC Pizza. I quickly scanned the menu and found a salad I could eat. It was topped with some "chicken chest" for protein. Mom ate a broccoli pizza and had a Becks! I was shocked that she wanted beer. I can't even remember the last time my mother drank beer.

She didn't finish her pizza, so we gave it to a begging woman on the street. The woman had a toddler with her and she immediately began to feed him. Then we stopped into a grocery store to stock up on some fruit and candy (life's necessities). We walked around by the old bridge, staging our own mini-photo shoot, before heading to bed. I had a great night's sleep, but Mom was woken up by birds chirping (at night) and dogs barking.

The next morning, she had a cold shower because she woke up last. We headed out and went to the Museum of Herzegovina Mostar, a small collection of folklore-like objects which showed us how people used to live in Herzegovina. The real reason for going to the museum was to see a video on the Mostar bridge. The original arched bridge was built between 1558 and 1566. During the summer, men used to jump off the bridge as part of a festival/celebration. The bridge was a symbol of the town, which is why Croat forces destroyed it during the 1993 siege on the town. (You can actually see the destruction in the video.) The town was able to rebuild the bridge and use it as a ploy to get tourists to visit. They even began staging the jumping contest again. The final part of the video showed the inauguration of the new bridge, a celebration which included fireworks. My mom and I were both interested by this: fireworks are a symbol of celebration and happiness, but, to us, fire is also a symbol of destruction and can be linked to the bombing that destroyed the bridge in the first place.

Nevertheless, the bridge has been rebuilt, the people of Mostar are proud of it and people from all over the world come to see it.

After our museum visit, we walked through a graveyard and checked out a mosque (from the outside). Most of the men buried there were in their 20s or 30s when they died. They were soldiers fighting on the Bosniak side (Bosnian Muslim) of the conflict. Souvenirs from the war were all over town: many buildings had pock marks where shells had exploded. We saw some "Sarajevo Flowers" - places in the sidewalk which look like a flower because a shell exploded (the flower's center) and the sidewalk has cracked around the area (forming the petals). Additionally, some buildings had signs, in Serbo-Croat and English, warning people not to enter because the building was still structurally unsafe.

Mostar is trying to rebuild, but the economy is not in great shape, so it's a slow process. They have succeeded with their bridge, which we visited again. Just before crossing, we stopped into a photography exhibit, a collection of photos from during the war. We ate lunch on the other side of the bridge. Mom had a "pizza sandwich" - a roll, eight inches in diameter, stuffed with fresh tomatoes and melted cheese. I had a salad of tomato, onion, hard-boiled egg, tuna and "trees" (which would up to be Balkan white cheese - a salty cheese, which I love).

After lunch, we had to cross the bridge again. As we approached it, we could see a "crowd" growing. A guy was getting ready to jump! He climbed over the guardrail, peeled off his shirt and plunged into the Neretva River, 65 feet below. Clearly, he had experience jumping, but it was still exciting for us to be able to see him do it. We wandered through the old Turkish-style market area and went to a house set up to represent the way of life during the Ottoman period.

We were only able to visit a few rooms, but the house was really nice. It was right on the river and one of the rooms had a series of low windows overlooking the water below. We met a Spanish couple inside; they were shocked that I spoke Spanish and happily accepted my offer to take their picture. After leaving the house (and putting our shoes back on - we had to remove them), we found a turtle living in the courtyard. My mom had noticed some lettuce on the ground, but we wouldn't figure out why it was there. I practically bumped into the turtle as I was making my way around the fountain to take a picture of the house.

After walking around Mostar a bit more, we headed to Nina's where her dad drove us to the bus station. We caught a bus to Sarajevo. The bus ride there was uneventful, we stopped so the bus driver could buy some fish from a stand along a river. When we arrived in Sarajevo, we bought tickets to Belgrade. Then we took a taxi to a hotel with an Aussie named Paula. She had been on our bus and recommended the place to us.

Getting to Mostar

Our bus from Dubrovnik left on time (pretty much all of our buses were punctual). The scenery was breathtaking - more coastline and islands just across sparkling-blue water. To get to Bosnia, we had to first leave Croatia and enter a small strip (about 10 miles long) of Bosnia coast. Our passports were checked, but not stamped.

Luckily, I knew this was going to happen and the man next to us spoke French. He was able to explain why we were stopping (coffee/cigarette break) and for how long. Mom made a wise-crack about wanting a Snickers bar (we were at a cafe and mini-market), and we were both shocked to find some in the strangely well-stocked market. I also found cookies from the UK and a few products imported from Japan.

After our Bosnian rest stop, we crossed the boarder again (this time back to Croatia), but still no stamps. Finally, we crossed a third time as we finally entered Bosnia proper. However, the boarder guard did not seem to think it necessary to stamp our passports. Thankfully, I was able to use French to ask the man across the aisle to ask the immigration guy for a stamp. I wanted to make sure that when we left Bosnia there would be no problems.

We arrived in Mostar and were greeted by the women from Hostel Nina (Nina and her mother). They offered us a room for a good price. I had originally wanted to stay near to the bus station because I figured that would be easy when we wanted to head to Sarajevo. However, Nina said they would drive us to and from the hostel, located closer to the center of town and the old bridge. Ordinarily, I would never chose a place to stay from a verbal description at a bus station, however, I had seen the place online and knew it was decent.

We had to share a bathroom, but it was very clean and we had access to free internet, so everything worked out.

In the car on the way to the hostel, Nina told us her story. She's 26-years-old and has just finished her law degree at the university in Mostar. However, there are no jobs there, so she and her mother are renovating their house to turn even more rooms into guest rooms. Because Nina speaks English well, she is able to communicate with guests. During the war, between 1994 and 1995, she and her mother went to Norway as refugees. Her father stayed behind in Mostar to take care of the house. We never really figured out what he did for work because everyone seemed to be home in the middle of the day.

Dubrovnik-Luxury by the Sea

The flight to Dubrovnik left on time (Mom was shocked). Along the way, the pilot enthusiastically pointed out Sardinia, Corsica, Rome, and ever island off the Croatian coast.

We landed and then walked from the plane into the airport. Once inside, we were stamped into the country, grabbed our bags and then exited. We boarded a bus headed for the Pile gate, as our hotel was just down the street from it. To get to the hotel, my crazy (I really love her) mother dragged her suitcase up two huge flights of stairs. Apparently, we could have gone up through the driveway or parking garage, but we didn't know that. The hotel was gorgeous, with views of the Adriatic Sea and the old city of Dubrovnik (the part inside the stone walls).

We dumped our stuff and set off in search of lunch. We both had omelets, which were as thin as crepes. Then we walked the 1.5 mile long wall (it's a big circle around the city). The views of the water and city were spectacular. Along the walk we stopped to take pictures and look at the houses. We could see a large cruise ship and an island just off of Dubrovnik. We stopped to rest, in one corner of the wall, after having climbed a steep flight of stairs (one of several).

Afterwards, we had more gelato! (Okay, we had just walked a lot, so we allowed ourselves to be bad....) Then, we ducked into the cathedral, but it was Palm Sunday and there were nuns inside praying....so, no pictures. Then we stopped to use a bathroom by the harbor. This was our first encounter with a turkish toilet. For those who have never had to use one, it's a lot of fun! (Just kidding.) You have to squat and aim over a small hole in the floor and try not to get your shoes...wet. These turkish toilets were actually luxurious. Inside each stall there was a sink, toilet paper, paper towels and soap. Usually I come across these toilets in Morocco or Bolivia where these luxuries are not provided. My mom found the toilet challenging, but she got better as the week progressed.

After relieving ourselves we went on a boat tour to see the coast from the sea. It was my mother's idea, which surprised me because she hates boats. From the water, we could see a hotel damaged during the 1991 siege. Serbian forces had damaged the facade, but the building still stood overlooking the sea. It's been abandoned ever since.

Back on dry land, we tried to find the synagogue, which wasn't open because it was the weekend. Instead we stopped into an embroidery shop and looked at some local handicrafts. Finally, we wandered back to the hotel, where room service delivered a "welcome treat," three little desserts, to us. We took naps and then went back to the old city for dinner at a restaurant in the harbor. I ate risotto and local oysters which weren't at all gritty and had a much less slippery texture than their Wellfleet cousins. Mom ordered grilled shrimp which arrived in their shells, head and all. She managed to peel and eat them without gagging too much. I was really proud of her for this (and the toilet experience!).

We happily slept late. Mom stayed in the room while I went to get breakfast. The woman in the breakfast room asked me where my mother was. I told her my mom was still in bed, to which she responded, "Oh, bless her!". Next, I returned to the old city to go to a very small market, where lavender, dyed eggs, dried fruits and some veggies, including weird, stalky asparagus were for sale. It was crowded with tour groups and I didn't buy anything.

After browsing, I went to the Dubrovnik Synagogue which was built in 1652 during a time when Jews were forced to live in a Ghetto inside Dubrovnik. Many Sephardic Jews came to Dubrovnik from Spain and Northern Africa after they were forced off the Iberian Peninsula. The synagogue was hit during the war in 1991; it's roof was damaged and had to undergo repairs. Inside I found a small space decorated in rich, blue colors. Many interesting metal sculptures surrounded the bimah and I was able to climb up to the women's gallery. The synagogue was located on the third story with the museum on the second. To access it, I had to climb up two flights of steep stairs (like everything else in Dubrovnik). At the top of the stairs were four mailboxes for donations. Each had a different Israeli city's name written on it announcing the destination of the money inside.

En route to the hotel to pick up my mother, I stopped at an internet cafe where two Italian 50-something women were also using computers. They chattered about in Italian: I realized they were talking about their Facebook news feeds. Yes, my mother had a Facebook account, but listening to these women made me chuckle. Middle-aged Italian women on vacation....what are they concerned about? Facebook!

I also peaked into a Catholic church, the one at the San Francisco Monastery. The church was nice, but nothing special. It wasn't built in the form of a cross, but was one large rectangular room. Before getting back to the hotel, I stopped into a DM (Drogerie Markt), a combination CVS and health-food store. I was delighted to find gluten-free pretzels and chocolate soy milk boxes (juice-box size). I stocked up on goodies and went to get my mom for lunch.

We ate overlooking a cove with sparkling teal waters. She had another omelet, I had octopus salad, and we split some veggie risotto. The food was delicious, but the spot was even better. From our table we could see the old city (we were just outside) and hundreds of tourists boarding their buses. We were not jealous of them. As we ate, we wrote post cards which we then mailed. Then we got more gelato and wandered through an Easter market held in the courtyard of a monastery. At the market there was a seven-foot tall Easter egg. It was painted with scenes of the four seasons. Easter eggs are painted and given as gifts in Croatia because the "hatching of chicken from eggs symbolizes Jesus Christ's coming out of the grave, resurrection and eternal life" (according to a booklet from the Croatian tourism board). We took our ice creams down to the water's edge and pick some rocks and sea glass. Then we headed toward the bus station.

We took a city bus to get to the international bus station, which was on the other side of the new part of Dubrovnik. Along the way we got to see more of the city, including the new harbor. It was nice to get a sense for the place, and to see that there's more to Dubrovnik than just the old, walled city. At the bus station, we bought tickets and mom knit while we waited for our bus to depart.

Barcelona-Gaudi=Genius or Mad Man?

So, after collecting my mother from the airport (at around noon instead of 8:30), we headed for the Barcelona metro and went into the city. Luckily I had gone to tourist information and picked up a map and lots of booklets. I had already figured out the route to the hotel and we got there quickly. We checked in, ate some snacks, and headed out to see the sights!

Our first stop was Antoni Gaudí's church, Sagrada Familia. Construction began in the 1880s and, according to wikipedia, is scheduled to be complete by 2026. Mom wanted to rest for a minute so she sat down on a curb while I changed my camera lens. I had warned her that the ground is seen as extremely dirty and people don't even let bare feet touch the floor here. Two seconds after she sat down, a man approached and asked (in Spanish) if she was alright or if she needed assistance. He was extremely concerned. (I cracked up.)

Gaudí was completely mad. The church has two facades: the front is a mess of details, curly cues, stained glass and botanically-inspired ornamental protrusions. The other side, which is much more modern, has statues representing the 14 stations of the cross. They aren't in order, but a guide identifies them.

The church was pretty cool to look at. We didn't bother entering because Gaudí really didn't do the inside and people had told me there was nothing much to see in there. After walking around the building we checked out an Easter market in a park across the street. We inquired about the six-foot long palm everyone seemed to be buying. Apparently, the Spanish take them to mass to be blessed, then the use them for decoration in their houses. Once the palm dies/dries out completely, they keep the attached toy to remind them of Easter.

Next, we walked toward Passeig de Gracia, stopping to look at a building, called the Casa de les Punxes (House of Spikes) by Puig i Cadafalch. Along the Passeig de Gracia, we checked out designer storefronts before entering La Pedrera, an apartment building Gaudí built between 1906 and 1912. It was designed to allow for maximum light to enter the apartments, one of which we toured. The interior was decorated with period furniture, and Mom especially enjoyed the bathroom. Two interior courtyards allowed light to enter the apartments from within the building, in addition to the windows overlooking the street. Upstairs, we got to see the attic which was like being in a large tunnel because of the system of arches Gaudí used to hold up the most intriguing part of the building, the roof. The chimneys were designed to carry smoke upward in addition to being well-designed. They actually looked like the smoke, and one was decorated with a mosaic of broken glass. It was also multi-level: different parts of the roof were up steep steps while others were lower. From the roof, we could see the Sagrada Familia and, just barely, the sea.

We continued our Gaudí tour by visiting Casa Batlló, located just down the Passeig de Gracia. This building was renovated by Gaudí between 1905 and 1907. He only worked on the facade, back patio, central staircase, attic laundry spaces, roof and one (very large) apartment. The other apartments are still used as private houses and offices. His apartment was meant to feel like it was underwater - wall treatments seem to move, cool tones were used in tile work and stained glass, almost no right angles exist. Again, he concentrated on light and designed the space to allow for maximum exposure.

The attic was a common space for all apartments - each family had a room for laundry facilities. Above it, the roof was similar to that of La Pedrera, except this one was on a smaller scale. The top of the roof had a dragon-like motif which could be seen from the street below.

For dinner we went to Cervesaria Catalunya, a destination for both locals and tourists. We got there just in time (as we were leaving, there was a line of people waiting for tables). We each had a Rioja (glass of red wine) and we split grilled shrimp, asparagus, mushrooms and a pepper, eggplant, and cheese tapa. The food was great, and because we were still in Spain ordering was no problem. (People around us were having some trouble.)

We decided that we had walked a lot during the day, so we treated ourselves to some Haagen Dazs for dessert. I'm lactose intolerant, but their coffee ice cream is well-worth a stomach ache. After our yummy dessert, we went off in search of the metro only to find that we had to go to a different entrance to get to our line. A woman told us to "follow the yellow line," which would have been good advice had there been a yellow line. We finally found the correct entrance and took the metro to our hotel stopping en route at a Corte Ingles.

Corte is one of my favorite things here in Spain. It's a department store, and can be found in all major cities. I never venture further than the supermarket where I can find wheat-free foods and imported goodies.

For day two in Barcelona, we continued our Gaudí tour by heading to Park Guell, a public park which was originally supposed to be an area of country houses. The plots didn't sell, so the government turned it into the park it is today. Gaudí designed benches, fountains, gates, the gate houses, and arched walkways. These spaces feature the curvy lines and recycled bits of broken glass which we had seen previously at the apartment buildings. To get to the park, we took the bus and climbed a hill. On the way back down, we saw the other path....a series of stairs and escalators up an extremely steep hill.

For lunch, we headed to el Mercado de Boquería, a huge produce, meat and fish market on Las Ramblas, a wide street with a pedestrian pathway down the middle. The mercado was incredible - we found all kinds of seafood including a tube-like shellfish about six inches in length. I also got some candied ginger and dried cranberries. For lunch, I had octopus and Mom had tortilla - a Spanish omelet filled with peppers and eggplant.

We crossed Las Ramblas and entered the gothic part of the city where we visited a synagogue. Not much of the synagogue remains, but records show a synagogue stood in the same place since 212AD. The building had been converted over the years, sometimes it was a residence, including the home of a fabric dyer. His dye-pots, from 1477, can still be seen.

Continuing through the Gothic Quarter, we passed the Cathedral and walked through Placa Sant Jaume, home to Barcelona's government buildings. Along the way we passed a store selling cartoon statues of famous people, including Bruce Springsteen and Hugh Laurie. As I stopped to take a photo, several pairs of tourists passed us, murmuring "Doctor House" in different accents.

We stopped for gelato (we were really bad that day) at a place which offered bizarre flavors, such as avocado. Mom got an almond cookie scoop and a mint scoop. I chose soy chocolate and mojito (lemon, lime, mint sorbet). We ate our gelato while sitting on the stoop of a bookstore. Then we walked around the old Roman walls and went to Placa de Rei where we took a nap on the steps.

We were getting tired, but wanted to go to a museum. We chose to visit the Museu Picasso. He was born in Malaga (southern Spain), but this was the only museum to open during his lifetime. It was started by friend and collector.

Leaving the museum, we went to the Estació de France, a train station, so I could take pictures of it....I love transportation....

Then, we wandered the Parc de la Citadella where we stopped to watch some crazy dogs play in a fountain. We were going to eat in Barceloneta or by the harbor, but decided to go back to the same tapas place we ate at the night before. I almost never do this, but the tapas were great and reasonably priced (for Barcelona) and we really didn't want a full meal.

The next morning, we woke up and took a 5:30 taxi to the airport. We checked in and ate breakfast before going through security. Next to us, an American slept on top of his luggage.

Barcelona-Meeting up with my Mom

I arrived at 12:30am Friday, April 3, 2009 in the very cool city of Barcelona. I knew immediately that I liked the place. It just had a je ne sais quoi....

Anyway, I found my hostel, brushed my teeth and went to bed. I had set my alarm clock (the one on my Spanish cell phone) for 7:30 which would give me enough time to meet my mom when her flight arrived. When I went to sleep, there were only two other people in my eight-bunk room and they were both asleep. I could tell that at least four other beds were occupied, leaving my bed and one more free.

At 2:30 I heard a noise which sounded vaguely familiar. I figured it was my alarm clock, so I started to find my pants and shoes. I figured it was time to go meet my mom. However, the noise didn't stop (my alarm only goes off for a few seconds). I then realized that it was actually my phone ringing, not my alarm sounding. I never remember what my phone sounds like, so I almost never realize it's ringing (okay, the truth is that it almost never rings). I missed the phone call, but could see that it was a number I knew, my dad's home office line.

I tried to listen to his voicemail, but the stupid Movistar machine voice told me I had to set up my voicemail if I wanted to listen to the message. It wanted me to record my name for my personal greeting. I'm still half-dressed and in bed at this point, so I can't really talk because I don't know how many people are in the room (it's dark). This means if you were to call me, I'll probably miss the call and you'll get a message that says, "You've reached the voicemail box of (silence..........)."

Anyway, I finally get to the message and I hear my dad's voice calmly telling me my mother's flight is so delayed that she is going to miss the plane to Dubrovnik and that I have to call him asap. I can't call on my Spanish phone because I don't have enough money on it to make international calls (it's a pay-as-you-go phone). I get dressed and start looking for my American cell phone, which is in my backpack. At this point, my dad starts calling me again causing my phone to ring loudly. I answer and go out into the hallway. They little bit of light that enters as I open the door allows me to see that there are still only two other sleeping people in the room. While I'm in the hallway talking to my dad, two more people enter the room and go to sleep.

We work out the changes. My mom and I wound up staying in Barcelona for two nights. I called the airline to change our flight for to the next departure for Dubrovnik, Sunday morning at 8am. It actually worked out really well because we got to see Barcelona, which was a really cool city.

By 4am, I went back to bed. I was woken at 7am when two more people entered the room to go to sleep. I then slept until 9am, went and found some Starbucks (!!!) and did some other errands before heading to the airport. Because my mom was late, I was able to go to the Banco de España and change some pesetas (leftover from my father's travels in the 70s and 80s) to Euros.