Truth be told, it was a relief to get out of Zakopane. The setting was nice enough, shame about the town itself. It might once have been the cute little mountain town I was anticipating, but it's now pock marked with Tesco, KFC, McDonalds, Pizza Hut and no doubt plenty of other monotonous franchises that I didn't see. Added to that it was the weekend, and there was an annual folk festival, so it was hideously overrun. Under different circumstances I'd have gone to check out the festival, but the weather was terrible and there was a "fun fair" attached to the festival. (Those things are seldom fun, and never fair)
Nový Smokovec, on the other hand, is exactly what I was after. A pretty little township placed in the middle of the Tatras, with plenty of nice walking trails and friendly faces. I went for a hike and checked out this wee water fall (a "watersmall"?) in the mountains and was treated to some sweet views.
In 2004 a massive windstorm swept through the area and ripped out big sections of forest. What's left is still worth the trip, and enough people keep coming to keep the place ticking over just fine. I coasted the 3km back to town downhill on a scooter which was a laugh.
And another sign of the "same as a mate's name" variety. Here y'are Papey.
My hotel's one of the coolest I've stayed in too. It still cost less than a shitty hotel in London, was touch screen this and bleeping that, had its own 2 lane bowling alley and this was the view from my window.
Tomorrow I'm heading further south to a national park which has some cool hiking trails up through ravines with plenty of waterfalls to see. No accommodation sorted so it could be interesting.
25 August: Nový Smokovec - Spišská Nová Ves
Long story short, with all my stuff it was a hassle getting a place sorted (at least without seriously pissing off the locals barging my way onto a local bus), so after much walking around I got a shitty hotel in town and got out of there with a day pack for an afternoon hike which was cool. After a couple of hours I came across a trail which had this view from the bottom....
and this was the view from the top of where I'd taken it from...
I wanted to go back the next day and do an 8 hour walk up through the spectacular ravines and waterfalls. But all the maps and literature on the area warned not to do that walk without sturdy hiking boots, as there are ladders and chains and step walks along the route. I only had trainers, and hiking boots wouldn't have fit into my budget or my backpack, so reluctantly I decided to abandon the idea and go south.
26 August: Spišská Nová Ves - Budapest
Budapest was a strange kind of experience. Again I didn't really get to engage with any locals and was subsequently told by a few people that's not unusual for Budapest. The city had some really cool architecture and interesting history, so notwithstanding the reticence of the locals it's still a city well worth visiting.
The hostel wasn't overly collegiate either, people tended to do their own thing. I did meet an American girl who it turned out knew a bunch of people I knew in Baghdad from the Hash House Harriers there, so we hung out for a bit.
The tramp of the week this time I picked on account of her serenity. One of the most chilled out tramps I've seen, which takes some doing.
And more gold dust on the sign/name front. Ed, not sure if this is you or me or both?
29 August: Budapest - Belgrade
Serbia's been one of the real surprise packages of the trip so far. After Nato bombed the country only 10 years ago, I could be forgiven for thinking that the people might not be so friendly towards westerners. Not a bit of it - the folks here, like those from the Baltics, are incredibly relaxed, outward-looking and open people. On my first night I went for a wander around the city to see if I could find some good nightlife. I was amazed to stumble upon a huge open air party / festival set within the walls of a historic citadel with 2 DJs I'm into - Steve Lawler and Sasha - on the decks. I met a couple of girls from Serbia's 2nd city, Novi Sad, and hung out with them until they had to go get their train at 7am. Belgrade's not a photogenic city, even by the locals' own admission, so I didn't feel too bad about not going on a photoshoot. The 2nd night I went out with a couple of Portuguese girls staying at the hostel but was pretty bored by the end of it, seeing as they'd picked a party boat with the world's worst form of music in my opinion, R&B.
31 August: Belgrade - Novi Sad
I'd arranged with the girls from Friday to come and visit their city. Unfortunately my phone died in Belgrade so I had no way of contacting them. I took the train up anyway. It's smaller and more relaxed than Belgrade, but still with plenty going on if you're so inclined. I was so exhausted after Belgrade I just had a wander round to see if I'd run into the girls - always unlikely as Novi Sad's not that small. So I had some fodder and got a welcome early night.
Next day I went for a wander around Novi Sad's greatest treasure, a massive fortress. Then back at the hostel stuck my sim card in another phone and got a couple of texts from the girls so was able to meet up with them for the night. Good fun too, we took my guitar down to the beach and stayed there drinking Serbia's favourite booze - rakia, which is a local brandy - until the early hours.
They told me what it was like when Nato bombed the city. As you'd expect, it's something that still resonates clearly with them deeply. They were only young at the time and said the worst thing was hearing the bombs and not knowing if someone they knew had been killed or hurt. Like Iraq 15 years later, it makes me pause for thought about the extent to which our "interventions" tend to be "humanitarian". But the Serbs don't hate America or the west, in spite of what happened. Impressively, they are able to distinguish between a country's people and the actions of its government, which is kind of ironic given the inability of some westerners to do the same.
That dark horse again in Serbia - the Cyrillic alphabet - but they also use our alphabet, particularly in the north. I've become much more comfortable with Cyrillic now, especially being able to remember what the right sound is for characters which are the same as ours. For example PECTOPAH is RESTORAN. It's easier in Serbia than it was in Kiev too because the language is similar to many surrounding countries. I've also managed to remember some of the Cyrillic characters which bear no resemblance to ours, but then when I was younger I could write in the 2 simple Japanese alphabets and when in Baghdad I was able to remember Arabic numbers, so maybe I shouldn't be so surprised when I forget.
More gold on the sign / name as well - Bob I knew I'd come across something for you, and Nick here you are too...
3 September: Novi Sad - Sarajevo
It's an 8 hour bus trip from Novi Sad to Sarajevo. The Serbian side's pretty unremarkable, being dominated by fields of corn and sunflowers. The Bosnian side's a different story altogether, immediately snaking alongside an emerald green river, before the road diverts up a valley and across one of Bosnia's many mountain ranges. During the first valley we ran alongside another river, but unlike its neighbour this was a truly bizarre bright rust colour. Along with the Tigris, this must be a contender for the world title of Rivers You Don't Want To Swim In.
Into and across the mountains and it was a bit touch and go at times whether we would reach Sarajevo. Not because the driver was insane or the road was bad (which neither was), but because the bus struggled to make it up some parts and would occasionally shudder to a grudging halt on some of the tighter corners. No matter, it gave us time to appreciate some pretty sweet views.
Approaching and into Sarajevo, you're immediately at ease the city. It's pretty in a way that Belgrade's not, and being set by way of small central city surrounded by residential areas on hills it reminded me a lot of Wellington. The vibrant nightlife, friendly and relaxed people and size and population were all similar too.
Imagine concentration camps, "ethnic cleansing" and thousands being forced from their homes and villages. Now imagine that it's not the 1940s but the 1990s. RightSaidFred was too sexy for his shirt and I was still at high school. It's incredible that as recently as 1994 this city was a battlefield. But sure enough, as you walk around the city you can still see the outside of several buildings bearing the scars.
When I was in Serbia, I felt cagey asking my friends about what had happened there, though they were happy to talk about it. I'm not taking my chances here. It was another kind of conflict, brutal and I think even more tragic than what happened elsewhere in the region around that time. Still, people seem determined to get on with life. There's no evidence of that changing anytime soon, but anything's possible in the long run. It's amazing how different religions coexist here - mainly Muslim, then Orthodox, Catholic, others and Protestants - but then so did they before the conflict. You see dozens of mosques' minarets peeping up from the city roofs in Sarajevo, and apparently Saudi Arabia has funded a rapid building (or rebuilding) of mosques across the country. Theirs is a particularly hardline branch of Islam - Wahhabi - so there's understandable concern about the risk to what is for now a generally secular and tolerant Muslim persuasion.
3 September: Sarajevo - Mostar
Last stop in Bosnia and it's half way to Dubrovnik in Croatia, an interesting place and a good way to break up the trip. The journey down was stunning the further we got towards Mostar. The mountains are barren like desert and can't have seen any rain for a long time. But we followed the path of a stunning river. The water was amazing. See for yourself.
Mostar suffered badly during the conflict and the graveyards are full of stones bearing the tale with the same date of death for so many. This place is famous for a bridge, which was destroyed in November 1993 but rebuilt immediately after hostilities ended.
Some people jump off the bridge to entertain the tourists. A couple of English lads jumped off when I was there. I considered it for a nanosecond until I went and looked down. Not me, mate. Met up with another guy from NZ and we had a few beers and then the guy whose bar we were in got us really baked. Fun fun fun.
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