Eastern Europe II

Split is famous for bearing the spare residence of Diocessian, the late Roman Emperor which, regarding its history was of obvious interest. It has however been sickened with warts in the form of Lacoste and Ralph Lauren stores for all those tourists wanting to have follow up stories when their neighbors commented on their lovely purchases in Croatia. This was our first stop down the Dalmatian Coast and I was eager to depart its lack luster harbor to one of the many Ancient islands.
Hvar Islands beauty was only matched by the golden haired woman taking us to her Guest house, marble stairways, solid stone houses that by no deliberate logic made very quaint narrow streets that sheltered its inhabitants from the weathers aggression, electric blue waters that reflected off the white marble harbor and charismatic locals debating the meaning of life. Its protector had a close eye on its beloved jewel, an Ancient Venetian Castle that looked down from its hilltop bestowing on the island blatant pride and strength. Our own fault had us stuck here by miscommunication, we were sorely distraught by the ordeal..
Korcular had an airy sole, an old Venetian town that is said to be the birthplace of Marco Polo. Its streets were empty which can be faulted on it been low season, but there was a definite emptiness about the place, it certainly hadn't been neglected, the place was immaculately kept in typical Venetian class which is the last to be said about our accommodation and its proprioter, we both slept with one eye open under his roof. We made a day trip to the local wine region of Korcular, Lambada, it been nestled between the mountains and the ocean had us enjoy a pleasant day. We left island life back to the mainland to the most famous of all Croation towns.
Dubrovnik surprisingly has only one hostel and true to our luck with accommodation, it was full. We found this house marked 'sobe' that was help by an old woman who spoke no English, she forced us to sit down and offered us delicious Turkish coffee and delightfully boring biscuits, you know the ones the elderly always seem to have on reserve since the slightly more offensive chocolate ones don't mix well with their prescribed cholesterol intake. Staying with here made our end in Croatia feel like home but even before we had a chance to get homesick, we were on a bus to Montenegro.
I must declare my ignorance, before this trip I thought Montenegro was a Provence in France but luckily for our bank accounts it was another treasure in the jewelery box that is Eastern Europe. We were unexpectedly greeted by a local fat woman eager for us to stay in her home, her family welcomed us with homemade brandy that destroyed any living thing within your gut and a very long proclamation on the beauty of their Country and their distaste for Albanians. The town of Kotor is surrounded by mountains with a large fortress protecting it from its past enemies, we hiked the nearest mountain to view all of Kotors beauty from above earning ourselves the excuse for a beer. The best we could find was a local Irish pub manned by a Muslim youth. The Jewish American that was with us was most upset when the barman welcomed us with a salute that he misread as a 'Hail Hitler', luckily we ignored Yankee because he turned out to be a great friend for us in Montenegro, he took us out a few nights but his mind was clearly occupied with love lost as his girlfriends parents wouldn't allow them to marry since he was Muslim and she Orthodox Christian, the cigarette burns up his arm was indication of his pain. The day trip to Budvar was a flop as during winter the people seem to abandon all respect for the town and as consequence, it was comparable to a dump.
I never thought I would enter Albania twice in my life but I have the stamps to prove it. Albania could quite possibly be the most undeveloped Country in Europe, you get the sense that the government pays little attention to the needs of its Country and in turn, its people are equally disinterested. We arrived in Tirana, one of the most polluted Cities in Europe, to find the place in complete darkness. This was not due to the lack of street lighting (which was non-existent) but a routine power cut. Everyday at around 7pm, the city is filled with the music from small generators in a pathetic attempt to give light to its shops. Once day broke, you can see small plots of buildings been brightly painted in flashy fluor-o colours in a sad attempt to hide its dull communist past, unknowing to us, when we left we never would have dreamnt a return.
My favorite Country in the East of Europe yet, Macedonia, home to Alexander the Great and Mother Teresa. Its Capital Skopye was a pleasant contrast to Tirana, developed and well lived in by its attractive youth and friendly locals. It was getting late and we were eager to fill our bellies with the local cuisine but were stopped in our tracks by a man struggling to pull out a an oversized television out of his rusty Russian car. We helped the poor fellow up his apartment stairs and almost as if they were waiting our arrival we were met by his parents, speaking no English seemed a non-existent issue as all they wanted to do was offer us a warm seat and their fine baking. Their son been the translator, we talked the evening away about Macedonia current issues and their rival Greek counterparts, we left with our veins filled with sugar and pockets piled with wafer cake, who knew we were about to be treated with the same hospitality by the Countries adolescent. We were invited to go clubbing by a random local girl from our Hostel, 20km out of town in the middle of now-where surrounded by darkness and wind, it was one of the best night clubs I had been to in a long time, it was a fantastic night until our hostess ditched us at four in the morning having us find our own way back which seemed impossible until by pure chance we hitched a ride with a couple of teenagers, no harm done. Lake Ohrid, the most sacred place in Macedonia and supposedly the 2nd clearest lake in the word was our next stop in Macedonia. We enjoyed the place greatly enough that we spent our longest time yet here. Once again our hosts were true to the pattern of Eastern European hospitality. The lake held exceptional beauty which we experienced one to one by traveling with a crazy tour guide that held no restraints in proclaiming his hate towards Greece and revealing to us their hidden identites as "blood thirsty vampires", his knowledge on the downfall of Greece seemed to far outweigh his knowledge on Macedonia, in fact, the man was a dead loss but we did find many of the lakes secrets.
Many days later, we read our future fate on returning to Albania as it was the best way to enter Greece. Korca was another one of Albania's jewels, we weren't impressed when we found our stay here had to be extended because of the 'Micky Mouse' bus schedule, it seems Albanians business only works when Albanians get up on the right side of the bed, very tedious. Our eagerness to leave had us make the brash decision to catch a taxi down the Country to Gjirokastra, a place highly recommended by our guide book that we trusted so, we named it 'the Bible', yet another disappointment by our friend Albania. The land in between was very beautiful and very interesting to see its past appear from the Earth in concrete lumps designed to protect its inhabitants from a war that never came, the Country was littered with incongruous concrete bunkers and now ironically the creators of these bunkers made them to be indestructible without a thought they may not always want 700,000 of the things through Albania, so now they are left with this deformity. Saranda was our destination and we were promised a beach side paradise, our new found skepticism of the Country has us expect otherwise, so I guess we had nothing to be disappointed about when we arrived. Oh Albania, I write about you like you owe something to me, like you were obliged to entertain me in some needing childish manner, I'm sorry.
Corfu, locals have arrogantly awarded this Greek island the most beautiful of all the islands which you can imagine is quite a statement. I had not yet seen any of Greeks limitless island babies but after landing on Corfu, it is hard to argue. Unfortunately, the island, despite all is beautiful Ancient history, is mainly famed by a particular monument . The Pink Palace, a huge party island playground that welcomes all round drunkenness and slutty meet ups, I would have to be a pompass ass to deny our enjoyment here but it was definitely not the reason I tracked on the other side of the Earth and besides, I was frolicking on the same land as Athens, I could not spend too much time fighting my urges to see such a place.
I have made it to Athens, I have walked as did the greats of its greatest time. Socrates, Plato, Aristophanes, Perikles. How could one fathom from then to now a young New Zealand boy would arrive on its Ancient land. The City now has been devastated by the inevitable onslaught of economic growth but despite its ugliness, how could one not be impressed by its glorious past? The Greeks still live and thrive on the pride that was but now it's all trivial nonsense, this pride the locals relish is the same pride that had them crumble to its envious neighbors 2200 years ago. Then again, why is there still a spec of surprise in my thought? History always repeats itself.
'A' was soon to leave and we were eager to see as much as possible between Athens and then, we decided on the Peloponnese as it was home to Olympia, a personal place 'A' wished to see. Nafplio was first and a real beauty in Mainland Greece, an old Venetian base guaranteed us a beautiful location, we had a lot of fun here and even swam its frigid waters just because we could.
Greece has been home to many a great Civilisations, the Mycenae's been one of the oldest descending from the Minoans from Crete. To read all the great stories of the Ancient past and actually walk its ruins is something incredibly special, especially how this feeling is impossible to obtain in New Zealand. Agamemnon, Clytemnestra, Homer, all these names are mentioned in Mycenae. These were some of the best ruins I had walked and they will always be in my memory. Very special! 'A' was finally going to meet his jewel, Olympia, an incredibly long detour which ended up been well worth the distance. This was the starting of the Olympic games and a very important timer in Ancient Greece's progress. Wars between the states were momentarily stopped for the competition of the games, the prize of glory afforded by only the greatest Men, the ruins were so well placed you could actually imagine been there within its wall and beneath its statues. One of the 7 wonders of the Ancient world was once held here, a great statue of Zeus that disappeared many years ago. Olympia was clearly a place of glory that even today can be felt. Delphi was the most sacred place in Greece's history, traveling there was almost a pilgrimage. Even where the place is situated feels pious, so many stories of its past and so much importance given to the place gave it a definite aura, we walked its paths and trails all day until we had to depart back to Athens to await for 'A's flight, our journey together was about to end. We prolonged our last stay in Athens to the last second, it was if we were squeezing a dry lemon hoping for juice but it was time to travel solo again, the morning came when we walked to the train station and said our good-byes. 'A' walked down and I walked up, both to practice our chosen lives.
I stayed in Athens quite a bit longer after his departure, I just loved the feeling of been in such a place and danced its rhythm as much as I could. I knew once I would leave Athens I would no longer be traversing the West I knew so well but that of the Middle East, maybe I felt as if I was preparing for it or maybe I was just scared, never the less, my train had arrived.