October 6 2014. Monday, 410pm London Time, currently over Northeast Canada, aboard Virgin Atlantic VS 039 en route to Chicago/Atlanta
I’m coming home from 17-day trip to Eastern Europe, my first time in that part of that world. I have wanted to go to Croatia since around the start of my marriage. 9 years later, we finally made it.
While the desire to come to this region started with Croatia’s natural and historical attractions, it was boosted by the interest to see the places we watched and heard about on CNN as the Yugoslav wars of the 1990s unfolded on our TV screens. We crafted our itinerary to include the other former Yugoslav republics of Serbia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Slovenia, and Montenegro.
First leg of the trip was a layover in London Heathrow. It was long enough for us to hop on the train, meet friends for brunch at St. James Park and take a short walk around central London.
After a 2 and a half hour flight, we arrived in Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. A highlight of the trip was participating in a community folk dance event in the main square of Ban Jelačić. Men, women and children garbed in colorful traditional dresses and outfits went around and around in a huge circle that encompassed the entire square, hopping to the sounds of a Croatian music blasting through the speakers while intermittently letting out a high pitched yell to accentuate the excitement.
Doing trip research, I became familiar with the places that we were going to see. However, it was one thing to see a town called Motovun on an itinerary and it’s another thing to be standing on the edge of a serene hill town looking over a lush valley that makes you think you’re in Tuscany.
On paper, Plitvice occupies the morning of Day 7, but in real life, it means standing amidst dozens of gushing waterfalls set in canopied woods, fighting the chill from being drenched by a slight drizzle, willing to succumb to pneumonia rather than abandon the trek through this Garden of Eden.
I crammed reading up on Sarajevo to brush up on my history of the civil war of the early 90s, but not a word of Rick Steves’ succinct summary could have adequately prepared me to see the walls of the houses, building and ruins marked by sniper bullets and mortar shelling.
Coming into this journey, I had my impressions of what Eastern Europe would be like: cheap, cold, Communist. Yes, many things were less expensive here compared to the countries of Western Europe. Yes, there were days when chilly onset of the fall season would make its presence felt. Yes, it was interesting to hear people wax poetic about their life under old Yugoslavia. Still, I was not prepared for the places, people and experiences that the Balkans have generously and hospitably offered me on this trip. Coming into close contact with a foreign culture opens your eyes and shifts your perspective, if you are open and willing.
As someone who has merely scratched the surface of world travel, I hope to learn and be changed by more places like the ones I’ve just visited. I hope to constantly have my perceptions, biases, opinions and knowledge base appropriately altered, reversed, or enhanced with every new destination and encounter.
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