Where have we been?

Yes, I know the blog has been rather pathetic lately, with no updates for some time. We've been travelling with 3 friends and there just seems to be less time to spend on things like this! But now we're back on our own and are travelling the vast expanse of Turkey so it'll be up to date in a few days. Below is the first attempt to catch up, an account of our daring diving expedition in Rovinj, Croatia.
After Croatia, there's 2 stops in Slovenia, a snowy stop in the Italian Dolomites and the biggest of all beer festivals, Oktoberfest.
There's plenty of stories to come, and we must be up to date before we hit Jordon in 2 weeks, where internet coverage (and spare time) will decrease significantly!
We have heard the good news of big rains in Victoria and hope these new posts find everyone well.
Happy reading!

After the beauty of Plitvice National park we had one last chance to catch some sun before turning our backs on the Adriatic and heading north into Slovenia. Initially we were unsure where to go but, as I was rather disappointed that we were yet to dive anywhere off the Croatian coast, I wanted somewhere known for its underwater treasures. Consulting the ever-helpful Google, I found that Rovinj, on the heart shaped peninsular of Istria in the north of Croatia, had one of the best wreck dives in the Mediterranean. This offered us a redeeming chance to dip below the beautiful waters of the Adriatic and breath some compressed air. Kelly was easily convinced and to my surprise so were our 3 non-diving travelling companions. That it offered sun, sand and 12 beautiful offshore islands obviously helped.

So to another stunning apartment we moved, this time on the harbour with stunning views across the small bay to the old town. The next morning was spent on the small nearby beach, although in a sign of things to come the temperature had dropped and the sun failed to appear. We spent the afternoon organising the diving trip for the next day. It took quite a considerable effort to find a dive operator that was diving the wreck the next day and believed we had the required experience. Apparently the dive was rather challenging, particularly at the moment due to rough seas and strong underwater currents. Being quite unable to fathom how it could be that much harder than any diving we had already completed we eventually found an outfit to take us.

Early the next day we were on a little inflatable dingy bound for the Baron Gautsch, an Austrian passenger-steamer sank in 1914 by one of it’s own military’s mines, causing 177 causalities. Arriving at the entry point, in open water, with no land in sight things started to get a little interesting. The swell had increased to around 2 meters and our little boat was riding up and down like a cork, making it virtually impossible to stand upright. After some difficulty we got Kel kitted up and off the boat and I staggered back to my equipment. I then turned to see Kel, in probably the roughest seas I’ve ever experienced, swimming furiously with no regulator in her mouth. For the non-divers the regulator is the mouth piece that delivers you air from the tank strapped to your back. Exactly what was said from here on in gets a little sketchy, as stress levels rose exponentially. “I’m freaking out a little” is something like what I heard. Both the guy operating the boat and I shouted at Kel to put her regulator back in but she wouldn’t. “I’m drowning” was definitely mentioned from Kel about here. When someone with a tank of air on her back that would suffice for around 8 hours and a perfectly designed apparatus for breathing it floating next to her in the water says I’m drowning, you know they’re right when they say, “ I’m freaking out a little!” I did up the most important of my equipments straps and jumped over the side. Doing away with the usual safety checks I swam flat out towards kel, until my own regulator would give me no more air. It had given me a few breaths but now was behaving as if it was empty. Throwing it away I swapped to my trusty snorkel, only to see the guy on the boat completely lose it as now there were two diving in the water who had thrown away their only supply of air (and to his eyes were clearly losing the plot). Signalling to him that I was out of air (and not freaking out yet) I swam to the Instructor accompanying us and got him to turn on my tank. Missing the usual safety checks I had forgotten to turn on the valve that opens the air tank. Now breathing freely, but rather fast I saw Kel, holding onto the boats anchor chain for dear life. She had swam around to the front of the boat and was now rising 2 meters out of the water every time the boat rock up in the air with the swell. The image of her rising, arm outstretched and hand wrapped around the boats anchor rope, almost fully out of the water and then plunging back when the boat rocked down will never leave me. The dive instructor, having believed our assurances about our diving experience was now clearly regretting the decision to take us. With one of us freaking out on the surface and the other jumping in with his air turned off, we had not made the best impression. But, with no further ado, we descended under the waves in an attempt to leave the rough seas behind. Unfortunately as the swell decreased at five to ten meters under the surface the visibility dropped to a few feat. Losing someone is this kind of swell would be very bad news and now I started to get a little concerned.

Descending further though, visibility improved and out of the murkiness at around 35meters came the massive outline of the Baron Gautsch. By now Kel had calmed down and finally looked around to see if I was still behind her. The rest of the dive went well and it was indeed a fantastic wreak to explore. Regaining the surface was a little fun, but we all made it back in the boat without incident. Only then did we realise one of the other far more experienced divers had pulled out while on the surface and gotten straight back on the boat. Arriving back at the dive centre the boat driver and dive instructor made straight for the bar and both poured large glasses of wine. The clock had just passed midday but these guys probably deserved it. Over a beer later we learnt that so far that season two divers had died in similar conditions on the wreck. Luckily we were able to joke about how we had scared the pants off both the dive instructor and the boat driver (who was the owner of the dive company).

After that rather large rush of adrenalin we spent the evening celebrating life with our travel mates. This may have included singing pet shop boys “Go West” complete with soft drink bottle coneheads, Pet Shop Boys film clip style, from the balcony of our apartment, or not. Either way we had earned the right to be little silly for a while.

Picture perfect Plitvice

From Korcula we got the ferry to Split, and then split. Not much for us to see there and plenty yet to do in Croatia. We headed to Plitvice National park, a hidden rainforest paradise of aqua lakes and waterfalls. Arriving at he park entrance without any accommodation booked we’re unhappy to find no-one was waiting at the bus stop offering rooms for rent. So far throughout Croatia we had been fighting through throngs of old ladies offering us rooms just to get off the bus. Now, when we needed them the most they we’re nowhere to be found. We asked the lady selling entrance tickets to the national park and (of course) she knew someone with a spare apartment. 10 minutes later we were picked up and driven to another great apartment, all for ten Euro’s each a night. Later it emerged the apartment was owned by her father, who was a lovely host, but spoke no English. By hand signals we managed to arrange a time for a lift back to the park for the next day.








The day spent wandering around the national park was a truly great experience. Based around 4 lakes, separated by stunning waterfalls, the park never fails to captivate anyone who visits. We wandered around for the day, with the help of a few complimentary boats and buses. The waterfalls especially provided plenty of material for the 2 Digital SLR’s being carried by the group. Another night in the slightly Austrian apartment and we were on a bus again, headed back to the coast.

Kicking back on Korcula

Following Mljet on our itinerary was always going to be a tough gig. Korcula, a larger island further north, known for its vineyards, olive groves and charming small villages, didn’t quite impress after the beauty of Mljet. Still a worthwhile destination and one of the most popular of all the Adriatic islands, it moves at a faster pace than Mljet, and its treasures are to be found on its vines, as much as on its beaches. To experience both we decided to get active and used some alternative forms of transport. A day-long kayak excursion to visit some uninhabited islands nearly came to an inglorious end when the wind changed and provided us with s strong headwind for the return trip. Wishing a yacht who had previously offered us a tow would reappear we headed back into increasing swells with Adam taking his turn in the single kayak. There were doubts about him making it back, but despite narrowly avoiding a few collisions with much larger craft he paddled the homeward stretch with ease. The image of him rounding the final harbour wall, bobbing up and down in a mess of boat wakes, will I think be with me forever.

The next day, after a well-earned sleep in, we hired some bikes and explored some of the surrounding area. After a few hours lazing at a nice sandy beach we made our way home, stopping at vineries to sample the local options on the way. The first place had stunning views but not so stunning vines, the second place led us through the fastest tasting of our lives and we’re still not sure if the last place was even a winery. There was a sign (“Vino” on a piece of cardboard) on the front gate but our tasting glasses were filled right to the top and the guy doing the pouring had clearly been “tasting” his wine all afternoon. Doing our best to drink our glasses (despite the thick film of oily material sitting on top) we were treated to a barrage of stories, from the aphrodisiac qualities of his wine to his prowess as a musician. Having finished the enormous glasses we escaped out the door and jumped on our bikes for a quick getaway. We had purchased a few bottles along the way which made it all the way back to the apartment, then supplied the drinks for another great night of home cooked food and home made hilarity.

Majestic Mljet

From Dubrovnik we had planned to join a cruise around the Croatian Islands. After leaving it a little late to book we missed all the organised ones and thus made our way around the islands as a group of 5. Probably a blessing in disguise it allowed us much more freedom in terms of timing and choice of destinations.

So it was off to Mljet from Dubrovnik, a small nearby island, around half of which is taken up by the Mljet National Park. A true island paradise, Mljet is the kind of place where people come for a visit and never get around to leaving. Your onward travel plans dissolve as you step off the ferry and wander through it quaint villages. Things happen a little slower on Mljet, and it’s all the better for it. It’s an unspoiled oasis of tranquillity, which, according to legend, captivated Homer’s Odysseus for 7 years. We didn’t have that long but loved every minute nonetheless.

Another great apartment awaited us in the small hamlet of Polace, run by a local family who picked up us from the ferry. The highlights, apart from just sitting on our balcony overlooking the beautiful bay, were the walk through the national park (with boat ride included) and dinner at one of the local restaurants. The National Park is centred around 2 lakes, connected by a small channel to the Ocean. In the middle of one is a 12th century Benedictine Monastery, accessible by free boat, and the surrounding paths make for very picturesque wandering. Despite a touch of rain the whole group thoroughly enjoyed a day touring the park. The other local pastime is devouring lamb or squid cooked “under the bell” (cooked from top and bottom by hot coals). Definitely one of the best meals of the trip, both meats were more tender than we had ever before experienced.

Delightful Dubrovnik

Croatia was always high on the list of countries proposed on the kitchen table in preparation for the trip. It was clearly high on a few other peoples lists and we had somehow got together a group of 5 to travel it with. So no more running out of things to talk about as travelling as a duo was over for a month or two. Ray, his wife (it still sounds funny, even to them) Rach, Adam and the two of us had planned to travel up from Dubrovnik in the south, through Croatia, Slovenia, northern Italy to meet up with an even bigger group in Munich for Oktoberfest. Boarding our bus from Mostar to Dubrovnik we were greeted by the 3 with big hugs. We then proceeded to all talk at once for the rest of the bus trip, with plenty of stories about the last few months travelling.

Dubrovnik is clearly a special place. Lord Byron was pretty much on the money when he proclaimed Dubrovnik, “the pearl of the Adriatic”. Ringed by magnificent and imposing city walls the old town is a crisscross of marble streets and barque red roofed buildings, s spectacular sight in the warm glow of a late afternoon sun. By booking ahead we had secured an apartment for five, in the old town, with everything we needed. What the website hadn’t advertised was the view from the 3rd floor terrace. Looking out over Dubrovnik towards the surroundings mountains the terrace was perfectly situated. While often covered in drying clothes (which made our place easy to spot from the city walls) it was an excellent spot for dinner, or a evening drink. We had built in some redundancy in case of missed connections etc and thus had 4 nights to enjoy this lovely place. The surrounding beaches were well utilised, especially after Ray tracked down a beach umbrella at the One Euro shop to protect his fair complexion. Other highlights were the obligatory walk around the city walls at dusk, and the permanent photo exhibition dedicated to images of war around the world. It attempts to show the uselessness of all armed conflicts with a focus on the unavoidable civilian suffering that results. With its beginning in the latest Balkan war, it has some chilling images from both that and other conflicts all over the world.
Photos - Top: The group on the city walls
Middle: Walking the city walls
Left: Adam with some liquid happiness.

Majestic Mostar (and Majdas hostel)

Completely unknown to us before we started travelling the Balkans, Mostar proved to be a hidden gem. The war took a completed different trajectory here when the Bosnian Croats turned on their former allies the Bosnian Muslims. Former friends became enemies overnight and the slaughter of innocents continued, only the aggressor changed.

Mostar also shows much more tangible evidence of the conflict with many buildings riddled with bullet holes or still lying in rubble. The former bank stands guttered, its concrete and steel walls dotted with thousands of bullet holes. On the first floor some of the wooden walls of the bank’s offices remain, while the ground is littered with personal loan and account documents. Higher floors reveal its war time use, with large piles of spent sniper shells near small holes in the war. The bank was a favourite sniper spot just back from the front line. Nationalist (pro-segregation) graffiti covers the walls next to messages about peace and co-operation. The place is a living museum whose days are no doubt numbered.

The locals seem keen to forget the war and rebuild the city as fast as possible. The racial tensions behind the war though, have not gone away, they’re just harder to see. Toeing the nationalistic Serbian, Muslim or Croat line is expected depending on where you live and work and certain areas of town will not sell products made in or associated with mainly Muslim Sarajevo. Tourists, especially backpackers, have been doing their bit to reveal the childishness of this policy by demanding Sarajevo made beer wherever they go.





The main attraction in Mostar is the bridge, a replica (the original was destroyed by Croat shelling in 1995) of the beautiful stone bridge built in 1556. It slender shape and white stone have earned it the nickname, the petrified moon. Towering 26 meters above the azure blue Neretva river, the bridge has been bringing tourists to Mostar for centuries. Its been bringing divers here too, to plunge off it’s apex into the freezing waters below. Originally locals would make the jump for a few cigarettes or to impress a local girl, but they’ve caught up with the times and now they’re after currency, and hard currency at that. Forget your convertible marks, these guys want Euros, somewhere near sixty for a jump and three hundred for a dive. After a small mishap (or slip causing me to slide down a near vertical cliff) while attempting a 5m jump into water at some nearby waterfalls, the bridge was definitely out for me. A few friends however were determined to at least give it some serious thought. Greg and David, brothers from Melbourne who we’d followed (or who had followed us) since our first meeting in Budva, Montenegro were keen to try the 10m platform next to the bridge and then possibly the bridge itself. We all jumped into the water below the bridge to test the temperature and Kel and I immediately got out. At 9 degrees Celsius it’s not exactly tropical. The boys leaped off the 10m platform after some time for courage building but left it at that. Thus we would all leave Mostar without seeing the famous leap.

Although the bridge is stunning, backpackers come here for a different reason, the Majdas hostel and tour. Brother and sister team Majdas and Bata run a hostel and tour respectively that puts Mostar on the Backpacker map. The hostel is fantastic, run by the ever helpful Majdas, and the tour is a once in a trip experience. 14 hours long, led by the crazily energetic Bata the tour takes in all the sights in Mostar and the surrounds and delves deep into the recent conflict. The only tour to tell the real story, as Bata claims the official tour guides are muzzled in order to keep the peace. Bata talks truthfully about what it was like to be in Mostar during the war including own brushes with death and the generosity of friends and strangers who risked their lives to save him. A true adventure that involves both physical and mental challengers, the tour was certainly a highlight of our week in Bosnia Herzegovina. (Photo - Bata tells his story to the full minibus (with mirrorball))

Surprising Sarajevo

An eight hour detour inland from the newly formed Montenegro lies Sarajevo in the newly formed Bosnia Herzegovina. Sarajevo featured heavily in the media coverage of the last Balkans conflict and we couldn’t miss the opportunity to put some meaning behind those vague memories of people running for cover and shells exploding in city streets. Like most people our age we had no idea of the reasons behind the conflict. After a week in the country we still found it very difficult to understand how a country could be split in 2 (or 3) leaving former friends and neighbours to slaughter each other in the name of nationalism (or was it religion). A local guide in Sarajevo put it this way, “If you fully understand the reasons behind latest Balkan conflict then you are as evil as the people who orchestrated and perpetrated it.” One thing was clear, the war is yet another example of the ability of powerful leaders and their propaganda to brainwash their followers into performing the most terrible crimes against their fellow human beings.

Aside from the war, we discovered in Sarajevo a modern, clean, vibrant and cosmopolitan city. A city in 3 parts, it’s divided between an old Turkish quarter, a newer Austro-Hungarian area and the modern “new city“. And to quote Harris our tour guide again, “it’s the three parts that makes the city special.” Wander the skinny cobbled streets of the old Turkish quarter flanked by tin smiths selling their coffee sets (See photo left) or linger over a latte at one of the hundreds of cafes that take over the entire streets in the Austrian section. The Austrian section (built by the Austro-Hungarian empire) feels a lot like the CBD in Melbourne, just with less cars and more cafes. Sarajevo was given street lighting by the Austrians even before Vienna, there were doubts about the safety of electricity and it was deemed safer to try it out on the colonies first.

The place is almost fully rebuilt and there are few reminders of the dark times in the 1990’s. Sniper alley (see photo left) remains with its bullet hole ridden buildings, and the yellow Holiday Inn where journalists covering the conflict took refuge still stands tall in central Sarajevo. The only other major reminder is the tunnel museum, a small house on the outskirts of town that hid the entrance to a tunnel that connected Sarajevo to the outside world. An ingenious piece of engineering, the 800 metre long tunnel (see photo below) was built by Bosnian’s trapped in Sarajevo as a way of getting supplies into the town during the 3 and a half year siege. They tunnelled under the international airport (held by the neutral U.N.) and out into the mountains where the Serbian Military found it difficult to retain control. Young men carried 60kg packs back from the mountains, through the tunnel, then braved the sniper ridded streets of Sarajevo to bring food to their families. The small photo collection of the museum gives a rare insight into life in the city under siege.

Stayed: Hostel City Centre (great location, great facilities, a fantastic hostel, one of the best we’ve stayed at so far).
Toured: Harris city tour (run by the energetic local Harris, a great tour that looks into Sarajevo’s history and is not afraid to answer the difficult questions)





The infamous corner that sparked off the 1st World War.












The Holiday Inn, left during the war; and now.

Mountains and motorboats in Montenegro

From Tirana we decided to head straight to Montenegro and see how far up the coast we could get in a day. In a stroke of luck we made it all the way to Kotor, a dramatic walled coastal town, with one of the nicest Old towns we’d seen (photo above). A little like Gjirokaster without the gloom, Kotor’s old town is sandwiched between the ocean and a group of steep cliffs that tower above. The only way to protect this defensively weak location was to extend the city walls up the cliffs and build a castle at the top. Thus today you can walk up the steep windy path atop the city walls (photo below) to the ruined castle and enjoy stunning views over the town and valley beyond. We slogged up in the late afternoon heat to enjoy sunset from the top. Far below the old town is just as enchanting with tiny cobbled streets connecting a series of never ending plaza’s full of café’s and restaurants, all with great views of the walls above. Hidden away in Montenegro, Kotor is a really beautiful place, and well worth a visit. Later, we would come to think of it as a mini Dubrovnik.

We had arrived without any pre-booked accommodation but were soon accosted by an elderly lady offering a room. We followed, at first reluctantly, but after only a short walk arrived at her apartment. She showed us the only bedroom (which would be ours as she slept on the couch) and after some bargaining we sat down for coffee at the kitchen table. A little eccentric, our host was nonetheless very accommodating. Strong Turkish coffee was always on offer after our outings and many encouraging words in Serbian were forthcoming. Our common language was limited to “hello, goodbye, coffee, and thankyou,” but there were always smiles all round. It was a little like staying at your grandma’s place, only a grandma that only spoke Serbian.
(Photo - Kotor's old town)
After Kotor we headed back down the coast to the resort town of Budva. The beach holiday resort of Montenegro, Budva’s beach is covered with never-ending rows of beach chairs for rent. Occasionally you can find a few free square feet of rough sand to put down your towel (See below photo). Europe and the Balkans have a very different idea about what a beach should be. Beaches are owned, fenced off, and filled with chairs and umbrellas for rent at ridiculous prices. Going to the beach is not the free family holiday it is in Australia. And rubbish, especially cigarette butts, cover the sand. Perhaps the locals are sick of their pebble beaches and feel a beach of cigarette butts would be more comfortable. They are not far off anyway. But enough beach snobbery, Budva has a fantastic hostel, a nice enough beach and the requisite walled old town. And despite a heated argument with a taxi driver (Ryan’s first for the trip) we still enjoyed our stay, mostly due to the great hostel and the people who stayed there. We also headed out into the bay on a boat with some others from the hostel and explored the surrounding coves. Kelly and I joined the locals in a spot of cliff jumping in which the main aim was not to loose your bathers. We didn’t lose them there but Kel would later leave them at the hostel, only to have them returned to us in Dubrovnik. Isn’t it great when things just work out! So we left Budva, and headed inland into Bosnia Herzegovina. We were looking for a big lesson in modern history, and some insight into a conflict that we remember from the television screens of our youth.