Dubrovnik: Part II - Mount Srđ

I think my favorite part of the trip was the day I decided to spend hiking up Mount Srđ. I couldn't convince any of my Bosnian friends to go with me, but I think the solitude added to the experience. There are three ways to get to the top. You can drive up a winding, narrow road. You can pay 80 kuna for a round-trip cable car ticket (50 kuna one-way). Or you can hike for about an hour and a half. I've been wanting to go hiking ever since I got to Sarajevo, so that was the clear choice for me.

the endless steps up to the trail head

The easiest way to find the trail is to start from the Pile Gate in Old Town. Slightly to the west is the Hilton Imperial Hotel, and a side street equipped with tons of steps appears just to the right (east) of that building. Just follow the steps up the mountain to the last major street: Jadranska Cesta. There is a bus stop along the road and just to the right (east) of it is the trail head. Honestly, this part of the hike is the most grueling. The rest of the way is a piece of cake...much easier than hiking the Ute in Aspen, CO.

The official trail starts in the midst of a forest, so there is ample shade and greenery blocking most of the views of the city below. The trail itself isn't all that beautiful. It is covered in rocks of various sizes, so I felt like I was forced to look at where my feet were going so that I didn't twist my ankle. There are no pretty flowers or anything, causing the mountain side to be mostly grayish-green. However, when you venture to look up from the ground and turn your back to the mountain, the view is absolutely amazing. Once I got past all of the trees, I had to take a little break to admire the view.

beginning of the trail

one of my first views just above the forest looking west

I think one of the reasons that the trail isn't too steep is that it zig-zags all the way up the mountain. This fact has earned the path the nickname “serpentine.” I didn't count the switchbacks because it wasn't necessary. Halfway between each switchback stood a cross with a roman numeral on it counting up from the bottom of the trail. Each one also had a bushel of plants, some stones, and a candle decorated with the Croatian flag. I think that these serve as memorials for the fallen heroes of Croatia, as the fort at the top held back invading armies since the 1800s.

switchback with Lokrum in the background

cross memorial

About halfway from the forest to the summit, I started having to dodge some piles of animal feces. They seemed to be getting fresher as I hiked up the mountain, and eventually I found the source: a herd of cows. I've come across dogs, mountain goats, and llamas on the side of a mountain before, but never have I seen cows so adept at navigating the steep surface of a mountain in search of food. When I got to the top, I met their owner. However, my Bosnian wasn't good enough to have an interesting conversation with him. I also found some horses and billy goats there. Their presence amused me.

cows!

I spent over an hour and a half on the top of the mountain taking in the views. On the other side of the mountain is the Bosnian border, complete with the snow-topped Dinaric Alps. The Adriatic Sea stretches for miles to the south, and you can see an aerial view of the old town from the summit as well.

Looking down at the city and Lokrum from the top of Fort Imperial

The Adriatic Sea

Bosnian border and Dinaric Alps

at the summit

I spent almost the entire day alone. I only saw a few other people hiking up the mountain, including a couple of Japanese ladies who enthusiastically waved at me from the top of the fort when I was heading back down the trail. Being alone made it possible for me to fully comprehend everything that I saw on the top of the mountain though. At the summit stands the Fort Imperial, a fort that was built by Napoleon and successfully held back invaders for many years. It was also the first place that was attacked by Serbian forces in 1991. The fort functions as a memorial for all the people who died in the invasion in the 90s. About 80% of the building is still in ruins with signs that warn potential trespassers of unforeseen dangers. The rest of the building houses the Dubrovnik During the Homeland War exhibition. I paid the 30 kuna to go inside, and it was actually a rude awakening. Yes, I've heard and read a lot about the war, but sometimes it takes other kinds of exposure for it to truly sink in. In one of the rooms of the exhibition, they were running video coverage of the siege complete with explosions and fires from the shells dropped on the Old Town. I've seen this kind of war coverage before, but I had never seen such disturbing footage from a war that took place during my lifetime. As I looked at the date on the corner of the screen, I couldn't help but think about what I was doing the day that this video was taken. My heart sank as I comprehended how many lives were taken or ruined because of this violence.

overlooking some ruins I found next to the fort

inside the fort

looking east toward Montenegro

During the rest of my time at the top of the mountain, I thought about the simultaneous existence of devastation and beauty. I have seen so much war damage in Bosnia, but I am always cheered up by little trinkets of life that spring up in the midst of the ruins. The Fort Imperial stands at the top of Mount Srđ as a reminder of many brave souls who defended a city that was being attacked by hate. Dubrovnik has recovered though. The city thrives from the thousands of tourists who visit the gorgeous beaches in the spring and summer months. Apart from the various memorials of fallen heroes, there are no signs of the war that wreaked havoc on such an important city. I only wish that mankind would be incapable of committing such atrocious acts of violence.

Dubrovnik: Part I - Old Town

Last week, I took a much-needed vacation from the cold, dreary Sarajevo winter and spent 6 days in Dubrovnik, Croatia. It was the best decision I've made since I moved overseas. During my time there, I spent a couple of days exploring the Old Town (Stari Grad), which is the biggest tourist spot in the city.

side street

The first day, my trusty tour guides Alisa and her friend took me all over downtown Dubrovnik. Our hotel was barely within walking distance, so we took the bus there. It runs every 15 minutes or so on weekdays and only cost 10 kuna one-way (less than 1.5 Euros). It dropped us off right outside of the Pile Gate, one of the entrances to the fortified part of the city. I instantly fell in love. It reminded me of Venice but with less water and more stone. Every building is extremely close to its neighbors, and the side streets are only about 5 feet wide. Walking down Stradun, the main drag, you can see that all of the narrow side streets leading up the mountain. The Croatians decorated the stone windowsills with plants and hung clothes lines from one building to another.

My trusty tour guides

We made our way down the Stradun to the spot Alisa recommended for postcard-worthy pictures, a pier just past St. John Fort (Trdjava sv. Ivana). There, we found quite a few benches and stray cats. These strays were not like that ones I've seen in Bosnian though...they were quite fat and healthy. They were in just as much need of loving as the ones in Bosnia though. The view from the pier was spectacular. Besides the quaint Croatian houses and endless Adriatic Sea, we could see Lokrum, an island about 1 kilometer away where people go cliff diving. After our picture break, we continued weaving our way through the streets of the Old Town in order to ensure that I had seen everything. I contemplated spending 70 kuna to walk the City Walls that fortify that part of Dubrovnik, but even if I had wanted to, the entrances were closed. I had no regrets though because I was planning on hiking up to Mount Srđ the next day and knew the view of the old town would be fantastic.

On the way to my last point of interest just outside the city walls, Alisa showed me Ivo Grbić's house. He is a rather famous Croatian painter who survived the most brutal attack by Serbian forces on Dubrovnik. On December 6, 1991, his house suffered a direct hit and burnt down, but he managed to save a few paintings from the blaze. There is a famous picture hanging on the side of the restored house from that day. In the photo, he stands wrapped in a blanket in front of his burning house and gives the Serbs a hand gesture that means FU. I thought that was a really cool story. Unfortunately, I didn't take a picture of it because I thought I'd be able to find it online. No luck though.

Panoramic view of the square by the Bell Tower

On the third day of my trip, I ventured back to the Old Town with my colleague Edo, his family, and my clarinetist roommate for week. We stopped for coffee at a cafe on the Stradun, just like Edo had suggested I do before we even left Sarajevo. It was calm, sunny, and relaxing. The city was peacefully empty. Since the weather isn't hot enough for most seaside activities, tourists tend to avoid Dubrovnik in January. I enjoyed listening to everyone around me speak Bosnian while I watched the some kids play with the pidgins that were close to the Bell Tower.

strolling along the old city port

After coffee, we made our way over to the aquarium. It cost 40 kuna, and yeah, there were some pretty cool fish in there. However, it was much smaller than I expected. It only had two rooms. Perhaps it's better to go during tourist season, since it seemed like they were in a transitional stage. A set of stairs seemed to lead to another part of the aquarium, but it was roped off. Oh well.

We wandered around the city after that to kill time until Edo's wife's rehearsal was over. Honestly, there isn't a whole lot to do in Old Town unless you want to go into all of the different museums. Without the museums, you can see everything in no more than 3 hours including a coffee break. I just tried to take in the sights as effectively as possible and enjoyed breathing the clean sea air. :)

iconic view of the city walls

Sretna Nova Godina!

Every year, the Sarajevska Filharmonia puts on a New Year's Eve Concert, and it is a highly recommended attraction for tourists and locals alike. Ticket holders enjoy a a break from the orchestra's pops concert with a cocktail hour serenaded by chamber groups from the orchestra during intermission. This year's program consisted of popular classical repertoire including the Overture to Fledermaus, the Drinking Song from La Traviata, and Radetzky March. It was quite well-received by the audience. Our last official piece of the program was the Waltz from Khatchaturian's Masquerade Ball. In addition to the image that Matt put into my head about the piece (people dancing and suddenly realizing that their masks were stuck to their face) somebody had the bright idea of letting loose a bunch of red and gold balloons. They were flying and popping all over the place, adding to the ambiance of the piece. It was actually a pretty cool effect to close out the concert.

From a musician's point of view, even though the content of the program was quite light, it was still challenging to keep concentration throughout the duration of the concert. I have noticed that I have difficulty getting into the groove of performing here, and I think that it has to do with the nature of our performance space. In the majority of orchestras in the US, musicians file out on stage at their own pace and begin warming up there. This allows woodwind players to create their little nest of cases, reeds, water, and other necessary items for their performance. However, in Europe, everyone files onstage at once, leaving very little time for nesting before the concert master comes out to tune the orchestra. I should be used to it, since that's what I have had to do at Northwestern for the past 7 years. However, I find myself extremely distracted backstage in Sarajevo. It is dark, slightly chilly, and without chairs. We wait roughly 30 minutes, chatting amongst ourselves to pass the time until we file onstage in a semi-organized fashion. Upon arriving at my seat, I often find myself slightly discombobulated for the first few minutes of the program, and the performance passes like a dream.

In addition to switching from the comfort of being behind a curtain to being thrust into the blinding light of spectators and paparazzi, a pops program produces other obstacles with concentration. We played about 20 pieces of music during each half of the concert. This requires context switching between each of those pieces. They vary from transparent and exposed arias to comfortably unison marches, and the flow of music making is disrupted as applause fills the hall between each piece.

Perhaps another reason I was a little distracted during concert was the thoughtful gift my bassoon colleague gave me. It was an old bottle filled with lozovaca, a type of rakia made with grapes. (Don't worry. I didn't drink it until after the concert.) I wasn't entirely sure what to expect when he told me about it earlier in the week, but I was quite impressed when he gave it to me. It was a glass bottle covered in old leather, one of Bosnia's famous exports. As you can tell from the picture, it has a lot of character and will be perhaps my most prized souvenir.

After the concert, our Otes gang and several other members of the orchestra stayed in the theater to celebrate. The orchestra manager arranged to have a party in the theater on account of how late it would be by the time we finished the concert. It was complete with delicious, catered food, loud music/karaoke, and good people. Drinks were BYOB, so we shared everything from beer and wine to rakia and rum. I arrived at the party around 10:30, and before I knew it, it was already 2012. The changeover was a little bizarre though. In the US, we typically countdown the seconds to midnight, highlighting the suspense and anticipation of the new year, but that didn't happen here. One minute, we were eating, drinking, dancing, and listening to traditional Bosnian music. Then seemingly out of nowhere, everybody was wishing each other a happy new year (sretna nova godina) and the best of luck. Another US tradition is kissing someone special at midnight, which was also a non-issue here. I kissed everybody at midnight...European style.

The party continued for another few hours after midnight. During that time, we saw our conductor dance and our colleagues sing karaoke. It was one of the most enjoyable New Year's celebrations I've had and one that I am not likely to ever forget.