Day.5. Long way to #Sarajevo

Travelling is not about places, it is about the people who you meet on your way.

#Split

After the long trip and party at night in Split (Train to Croatia) I woke up early, finished my sketch and felt overwhelmingly disappointed and tired. It has been the 5th day of of my travell and all what I was looking for, was yet about to discover. Definitelly, it has not to be found in Split (Although I found there a crew of the Games of Thrones who had been shooting for the 5th season of the series).

Admittedly, Split stole my heart at the magical 3 at night. In case you decided to walk empty streets accompanied only by the light of the moon, you will meet the spirit of this town. Nonetheless, after romantic tryst with Split at night, don't be suprised when he (Split is male in Croatian) will break up your heart at the morning; he will trample your romantic feelings by the thousend feets of tourists and service workers. My love to Split hides deep behind the noise of tour guides who speak in all languages of this wolrd towards (even noisier) tourists; my admiration to Split is hurt by throng of people who walk the romanic cobblestones every day; it is somewhere  between the price labels for strangers and for locals and underneath the skin of the people of Split with two faces - the kind one to their folks and the english-speaking calculated one for their breadwinners (Russian, Poles, Americans and whatsoever).

Ok. Maybe this opinion resulted from the lack of sleep. Indeed I would love to come there and sketch for couple of days - properly.

 

I wish to have met Croatians from Split whose company would not be a burden;who would like to share with me their culture, their shades and lights. Unfortunatelly, I met only those who wanted to look deeper into my purse. Disappointment was unavoided. What this trip shall bring next?

Before I get into the bus, I sat to draw another picture that day. On the way I have met group of Polish tourists who all were desperate to touch a huge toe of enourmous sculpture of  Gregory of Nin. They used the occassion to take thousend of photos. Obviously. I escaped and found a piece of quite in front of Zlata Vrata (porta aurea, golden gate).

 

 

I quickly sketched the back entrance to the Dioclecian's palace and rushed for my bus. Indeed, I liked the architecture, but I deliberately erased from my outlook people. I wished to leave the music that was peaceafully flowing from the inside. (Colours has been added later on).

# Sarajevo

The bus should leave at 2 a.m. It did not. Welcome in Balkans.

I asked for something a guy who waited next to me at the bus station.He was actually the only person there apart from a lady who kept showing the card "Sobe. Rooms" to all passer-bys. The much better choice from two of them. Soon there popped up also some locals going to Sarajevo. Only two backpackers were there - me and him. Indeed, I needed rather kindness of some other homo viator than an exact topic of conversation. With his slightly French accent, he explained me a bit his journey while we're waiting another hour for a bus, that was annoyingly staying just in front of us.

The bus driver sat in the bus, but somehow his motivation to leave did not support his punctuality. Doors were closed. Meanwhile, I was cheered up by the fact of winning a company of another single-traveller with a quite similar reserve to touristic crowds. Topics such as age and daily routines apart from travel were not really interesting. Instead we shared our enthusiasm  walking at 2-3 a.m. around the old market of Split or simply about going to Bosnia!

Later on, he did not hesitate to draw my attention to the breathtaking views from behind the bus window (delightful), commenting on the poor equipment of the local shop, laughing just as me at the cows on the street or ultimately waking me up with a great smile "we are finally in Sarajevo".

Although I don't mind travelling alone, at that moment I felt that a travel companion that shares my excitement about the trip, was exactly what I needed. Perspective of coming to Sarajevo started to become more bright, althouth the darkness of the sky at night there, out of the city, was difficult to comprehend. For some hours we felt like kidnapped tourists in the middle of the dark jungle. So different from the light noice of the other european cities.

So many people asked my later how long does it take to get from Split to Sarajevo.

Answer: it depends. It is Balkans. Expect everything. My bus leaves at 2 p.m. in schedule but left after 3.p.m. It supposed to be after 8;00 p.m. but we arrived well after 9:30 p.m. Be prepared for everything what your travellers' soul is looking for: untouched nature, world different from what you know in "western" Europe and laid-back attitude to time. Everything is negotiable, even the bus schedule. Be prepared for bus driver stopping to let the cows cross the (national) road. It is Bosnia, it is Balkans. Here the world works a bit different.

- Idris. Nice to meet you. At that moment, I felt that some good French Pierre or Leo would be so much easier to remember. It took me about three ashamed attempts to remember this name.

Although I have planned to stay at some Couchsurfers in Sarajevo, it did not happen. It was high time to make use of my notebook with "emergency" hostels' list prepared earlier. Idris compared it of course with his (Lonely Planet?) guide book. He was well prepared. Guidebook for Croatia, one for Montenegro and Kosovo, one for Bosnia.... So heavy. I thought. In comparison to my small-size sketchbook and one thin book to read on the road, he possesed the whole library. We went for the first of my 3-position-long hostel list, because it seemed to be... cheaper than lonely planet choice. 

At the train station Idris hoped to find a street map to check where to go.

It was pitch dark and I hoped to find someone who speaks English and tells us where to go.

The latter was quicker.

We passed the US Embassy that was secured by armed body guards. We greeted them with "Dober vecer", they answered kindly. We followed the tram lines. The moon was so impressivly big. After 8 hours of travelling together, I guess, we had evolved kind of silent understanding that one does not bother the other, that silence was cool too and finally that we accepted the fact of looking for a hostel together. One of the last peaceful moments in Sarajevo.

I'm not good with maps (I travel without good one), but I'm good with asking people for the way. We didn't know how many tram stations we need or even whether we are going in the right direction! Before we asked, the answer almost bumbed against me in the tram! The answer's name was Nelvino!

As soon as I crossed the doorstep, I almost fell over a tall backpacker with some lazy London accent - watch out lady Here you have - another man with a very difficult name. Nelvino is a traveller from Portugal (Cape Verde). I couldn't resist talking to him just about anything only to  fulfill my curiousity - he must be from London!?

We figured out that we head for the same hostel. Most importantly - Nelvino's friend (whose name was completely incomprehensable for me at that moment) knew how to get to the hostel! Quite on contrary to both - me and Idris.

Cevapi at the Pingvin, the longest opened fast food store in Sarajevo (that recommendation I overheard couple of times). The biggest sandwiches I have ever seen.  Almost no vegetable inside and each of the guys took two of them! Well, nothing vegan there though.

Afterwhile they all switched to French, because they all lived in Paris.

At least, I did not have to talk much. It was simply more enjoyable to be accompanied by thosee three handsome Parisians who were obviously pleased to bring me safely to the hostel. Admittedly, I love when I do not have to care where to go and when I  can simply cherish the beautiful and dark Bosnian night (the obvious reason why I am getting lost so often everywhere!). These kind of small pleasures are not the once that a single-travelling women easily gets.

It is how you meet people on your way. These three gentelments made out of my stay in Sarajevo quite an experience that I will have brought alive in my mind so many times later.

Idris, Nelvino and last but not least Johan - Merci beaucoup, muito obrigada, muchas gracias!

(let us not forget - Rain was also with us!

Sometimes).

Day.4 Train to Croatia

How to catch a train?

When I tried to leave #Ljubljana I was absolutely sure that my next stop is going to be in Belgrade at the evening. The only train from Ljubljana to Belgrade (or Beograd) goes 9 hours long and leaves at about 8:30. So I woke up early. With my CS host we cherished our small daily rituals - sipping Turkish style coffee, having a cigarette chatting while gazing at the window from the 15th floor of his flat. A bit in rush we managed to get even some apples for a travel from the nearest grocery (I heard also some nasty story about the owner....smashing) and then - surprise... there is no train.



Have you noticed why? Key word - "about" 8:30.

The only train to Serbia left at 8:25. Alternatives? Travel that could take up to 20 hours to Beolgrade or go somewhere else. In that very moment I felt that nothing happens without a reason. I might have taken a train to Belgrade, but maybe this, what is going to happen now, will be much more better to me! From the perspective of time, I guess I would not have created this blog, if I got that train. And I would not know where they shoot the scenes for the next season of the Games of Thrones ;)!

The weather was getting even cloudier and rainier. The best shoes I had - old pair of intensively used converse - were obviously not water resistant, so at the spot I decided to go to a warmer place -  Croatia. Ultimately, a missed train is not the end of the world - hey! Now I can truly go wherever I want, by any train it comes! (Moreover it is nothing in comparison to plane I was late to some years ago). Next train was to place called Dobova - next to Croatian border. I took it having high hopes that at least there is something interesting to sketch!

 This train goes about 2 hours and serves you some of the most beautiful views I have seen during my trip. Not without a reason in my map that rout was highlighted as scenic train line. Due to the rain and overwhelming greyness, my photos do not even try to embrace a small piece of the real beauty of that landscape. I was sitting next to the window as if I had watched telly. The locals looked at me suspiciously. It did not matter - the moment I saw the mist rolling over the mountains, the slightest regret about missed train faded away like a fog. 

 Running away from rain...

How desperately did I want to escape rain, you cannot imagine.

Nonetheless, in Dobova there was nothing but church, dog and obviously - rain. Next train to Croatia (that is 5 kilometres away) -  in 5 hours.  And I couldn't even sketch there! After 10 minutes in Dobova, I found a local map sign, took out my sketchbook and wrote clearly HR. Hvala! Hrvatska Republika, thank you!
 

It took maybe 15 minutes till a man stopped and took me to the next village with a train station. Usually I would never travel with a single man, but I told myself - next time you will follow your reasonable thinking. Now it's raining, there is no cars and all the trains you can take are only 5 km away from here! Driver spoke only Slovenian (or Croatian not sure), but with my "no ż sz cz ć ź ń dż ę ą"-Polish mixed with a bunch of Russian words, we managed to communicate pretty well! For the first time since long I had a border control.  He took me to Harmica with the next train leaving to Zagreb in 10 minutes. This is how I saved 5 hours! Ultimately, the good karma was still with me!

Apart from the fact, it was still raining....

Zagreb

Veni...

Vidi...

Rain...


 

(Don't get me wrong, I strongly believe this city has plenty to offer, like the Museum of Broken Relationships that Jenny had told me me about, but when I can go somewhere with a backpack full of summer clothes and not even a single warm jacket, I choose place where it is already warm).

The nicest Croatian person who I met was a ticket controller. He looked at my ticket bewilderingly and took the best English he had from his pocket! I saw how much he tried to help me! Although I didn't really need help - the app in my phone was full of appropriate schedules! Well, I asked him for some help with timetable from Zagrem and he was so delighted to give me the right answer! That was so touching!

Quick stop at the station, quick visit at the exchange, quick coffe and off we go.
(Croatian kuna is still the most confusing currency for me from all I had been using in Balkans. So difficult to count! Moreover, imagine that 1 kuna = animal, marten consists of 100 lipa=tree, lime tree! How imaginative is that! ).

6,5 hours in train.

 

Scenic route.

I asked myself, how is it even possible that those British ignorant girls dare to sleep when the landscape outside is so breathtaking???? H.O.W.?

Well, the first part was boring, but the last 2,5 hours I was poking my nose constantly next to the window. Valleys, rivers, untouched nature, mountains and stunning play of the mist and clouds rolling over the summits and trees. I could not stop gazing at its beauty. Train was crossing deep valleys or decelerating on the tiny bridges whereas on the left side you could see the horizon with Bosnia far away, on the right side blue line of the sea separated from the bay by a green stripe of land. Above, the vail of mist and clouds brought by the evening breeze. Simply magic.

After rain comes RAINBOW

Not sun!
It was night when I arrived.

Rainbow to Bosnia

#SPLIT

I bet many of you have been there already. So often I heard there Polish, British, Russian, that I wonder where are the Croatians there? Or maybe they - just as Jože - live in Ljubljana and keep inspiring all travellers to head further to Split? I would not be surprised! Yes, Jože. That was the moment I saw admiration in your eyes, when I asked you, how nice it is in your Croatian hometown. That was when you confirmed, this shall be the most beautiful place you have ever been and you wish to have come back there and live there. I didnt know whether to believe you or not. I believed you were right.

That was everything what I knew when I got to Split.

And the crowd at the train station with cartons. Sobe. Rooms.
And this ridiculous warmth. 
And palms!
So happy.

 

 

Graphitti with Hajduk Split were everywhere. Hajduk were romanticized bandits that fought the rule of the Ottoman Turks and since 1911 they exist as a football team Hajduk Split. What was important in the Austrian-Hungarian empire, this club breeded the national identity and separatist approach that was against the policy of unification at that time. Right now they are still a team, but the obvious political connection faded away. For Split inhabitants it must be, I believe, important - even in my room I found a beautiful hand-made wall cloth with their logo!

 

My backpack contained 35l of stuff, including one dress for warm weather.
Travelling girl needs to take something like that and that was the high time to wear it!
Warm night at the Croatian coast?
Perfect for a late sketch. First one this day.


The Diocletian's Palace in Split was something I did not expected! Touristic seaside town at the coast? Yes. Ancient city of Roman empire? Nope. But it was there. I walked through the beautifuly lighted tiny stone streets surrounded by couples and the History. In the hidden restaurants noice of even more hidden tourists. Music every now and then and astonishing romanic architecture. Nothing comparable to romanic history of Cologne that I knew - that was the whole city full of ancient history!

I sat down to sketch the place I liked the most - the central square of the Palace - peristyle. If you ignored the ludicurous amount of tourists, it was beautiful. I wished to see them gone.

The moment I thought that, it started to rain heavily. All people including me hide in the restaurant. Indeed. The perystyle (square) looked much better without people.


I had to finish my sketch the next day, but in the restaurant I had a nice chat with two American friends, who came to Europe to celebrate their reunion after leaving college (greetings to Rob and Pete). Surprisingly enough, they have quite a knowledge about European history. I pleasantly tourtured them with a game - guess what country is that (.. but do you know the capital too?). They did well. Ashamingly, I never cared enough to learn American states. I excuse myself that I know all Polish and German regions with their capitals... because I was in those countries.... so let me learn them before visiting U.S. Fair enough?

Archeology is my soft spot actually...and I would love to spend there hours to do it in bigger size.

coloured added after.

Who has been in Split rise your hands! :)