Veles, Macedonia

We left Struga the next day for the town of Ohrid, a few miles to the West. I found the local road that winds itself along the water’s edge. The morning was crisp and lovely and just 30 minutes later we arrived in Ohrid, the most popular town on Lake Ohrid; the town with the history, castles, beaches and the target for us that day. We found downtown Ohrid without trouble but not the old city. I cannot say why but we just looked at each other, shook our heads and moved on. Maybe it was the challenge of finding Zagoriče that drove us, I cannot say. We left Ohrid to hunt for the small village of Zagoriče
I am very target oriented. Give me a cause and I will pursue it until it is done. We had located the village of Zagoriče on the map but getting to it was another matter. Carefully we plodded along, following signs in Cyrillic that lead us near. We missed it. In the town of Demir Hisar we had to ask and were guided by the gas station attendant back to a small exit off the main road and finally arrived at Zagoriče, the partial roots of Carol’s Children. It was an emotional experience for Carol and I am glad we did this trip to get to know, to see for ourselves, how a difficult life can dish out inequities. Zagoriče was indeed a few houses along a dirt track leading into the mountains. Not much had changed here for decades if not centuries. The faces of the people we met in town spoke of their life. If dental hygiene is an indication of civilization then the modern world has not arrived in Zagoriče. We are fairly sure Carol’s first mother-in-law was born here; Carol admired and loved this woman.
After some time trying unsuccessfully to solve the mystery of Carol’s former mother-in-law’s birthplace, we moved on. The road we were on now, moved deeper into the mountains. All the signs were old and in Cyrillic. We found our way, having had the previous experience with this signage. When the word spells mountains it evidently means twisty roads, hairpin curves and harsh drop offs. Being on non-touristy roads, being in a county that needs basic infrastructure, you can imagine how the roads were. Each corner could spell disaster. The detours we ran into did not help. One stretch had old cobble stones as pavement and I shuddered at riding this road for a long time but then it chanced into a fairly modern highway. Macedonia is in transition. There are things here that are very good, but other things are sill old and need a lot of work. Along the way I saw ecological disaster sections. Rivers were so full of trash that it left me shuddering. We proceeded carefully and while we encountered difficult sections we made it undamaged to Prilep only to find out that the next hotel would be in Veles, about 1 hour away. Ok, so it goes, planning and timing or flexibility is essential in countries without modern setups. Oh, there was a hotel in Prilep but it was an old time Russian hotel, 5 Star rating, for about 85 Euros per night; a bit out of our league even though the locals saw us as rich Americans or Canadians.
We rode the additional hour on a good road to Veles and a guy on a motorcycle, riding way too fast and showing off because we were there, guided us part way to the Motel Montenegro. This motel was built in anticipation of tourists but lacked some basics, like being able to close the bathroom door. The shower had no curtain so the water ran freely, flooding everywhere. The prices, since this was the only motel about, were too high but we had no choice. We paid left the next morning after a breakfast shared with an older Croatian Harley Motorcycle rider
who made his money in Germany. He now lives 6 months in Germany and 6 months in Croatia. This man, speaking the language of the old Yugoslavia, gave us some tips as what to see in Serbia, our next target.

Memories Old and New ( Carol Taub )

My journey to Macedonia began many years ago with stories of remote rural villages, hardship and Greek oppression, related to me by Dimana Vassos, the mother of my first husband and the grandmother of my children. She’d had a difficult life, married at the age of fourteen and bearing her first child at the age of fifteen. After the end of World War 1, with no work in the area, her husband and many other young men of the village left to try to find work in Canada. By this time Dimana had two sons and lived frugally on the little money she was sent from Canada and by taking in laundry. Since she was the only woman in the village who could read and write (taught by her mother as there were no schools), Dimana became the unofficial letter writer and reader for the women of the village whose husbands had travelled to Canada. The village was called Zagoriče (sounds like Zagorichee).
Eventually, Dimana was sent a ticket for her and the children to join her husband in Toronto. In order to obtain a passport, Dimana had to change her last name and that of her children from the Macedonian spelling of ‘Vasoff’ to the Greek ‘Vassos’ since her village had been given to Greece after WW1. At this time the people were forbidden to speak Macedonian and were required to speak Greek. But since transportation in the area was by mules and they only responded to Macedonian commands, the people said they were talking to their donkeys if caught.
Dimana arrived in Toronto and again survived by taking in laundry. Her husband paid infrequent visits but managed to father two more children before disappearing altogether. She eventually learned enough English to get a job in a garment factory where she was paid piecemeal for sewing sleeves on men’s coats. She was so quick that the other women were angry because she made them look incompetent; so to keep the peace, she held back on her finished work and handed it in when there were fewer work orders. She worked hard to put her youngest son, James Dimiter Vasoff (registered with the Macedonian spelling of his name) through High-school and help support him in University.
Dimana developed a strong network of friends in the Macedonian community in Toronto but abstained from the often heated discussions on the future of Macedonia – Socialism, Communism, Independence etc. She was an emotionally strong, independent woman; she was an intelligent, kind, caring, gentle soul. She died in 1975. I admired her tremendously.
So it became a bit of a quest – to try to find the village of Zagoriče where this amazing woman had her roots. We think we found it after leaving Struga and with some backtracking to locate the unmarked, narrow, one lane, paved, laneway leading into the village. There was a grassy playing field on which a horse was grazing at the entrance to the village. The buildings were mostly of clay brick construction, some of which were very old and in disrepair. Others were newer. The village was quite clean with no trash but obviously very poor. It was sad to me to know that Dimana’s village and the people in it still struggle to eke out an existence.
We met a family (mother, daughter,son – about 9 yrs.) in the village and at first they were reluctant to speak to us. The young boy spoke very limited English and I think we won him over when I gave him a Canadian Flag pin. We tried to explain that my husband’s family had come from this village but had limited success. It seems that even an older neighbor who joined the discussion had not heard of the Vasoffs. Were we in the right village? I don’t know for sure as there are similar sounding villages in nearby Bulgaria. We did have it confirmed that we were in Zagoriče when a man (the woman’s husband?) who understood minimal English arrived in a car.
This discussion took place at the side of the road beside what seemed to be a barnyard with chickens, a dog and cat. There was a barn but we did not know if it was used for animals. The area was quite muddy and the road beyond turned to rutted dirt so we made our goodbyes and carefully turned around to backtrack the way we’d entered the village.
It was with mixed feelings that I left this area. I admire Dimana even more than ever for carving out a life for herself in Canada after such a humble beginning. She restarted her life in a strange country, essentially by herself; she successfully raised four children putting the younger two through school and eventually she owned her own home. She was an amazing woman.
Thank you Hans, for the opportunity to tell this story and for assisting me in locating and identifying David and Brian’s roots.

Struga, Macedonia

The roads after the first 100 Km greatly improved in Albania. So much so that we made it to the capital, Tirane, in no time the next day. Tirane is large, busy and business-like. We first thought of spending some time in this town but then decided to just head for the border town of Pogradee on Lake Ohrit instead.
Now that we had entered the mountains and were riding east, Albania became more idyllic. I like the genuine towns, the old ways we saw on the side of the road. Men were cutting grass using a scythe, women helped stacking hay. The ancient implements used are handcrafted, wooden and work well even today. Grass was also being cut using motorized sickle movers of various models and with even greater variety of configurations. Fifty years ago, when I worked on a farm in the Black Forest in Germany, we used similar equipment. Am I getting old? The fields in Albania are well tended, however, and food grows in abundance.
Just after we passed the town of Perrenjas we ran into road construction. I asked the workers how long the construction site was and they told me about 30 Km or all the way to Pogradee, our target town. What to do? We would have loved to stay one more day in Albania, since a one night stay is nothing and no indication of a county. But given the conditions of the predicament we were in, riding on loose sand and gravel for 30 Km plus the threat of imminent rain, we decided to take the lesser evil and enter Macedonia at Radezha, especially since going back to Perrenjas was no option and we didn’t know if there was a hotel there.
There is no exchange booth to exchange the Albanian Leke to Macedonian Dinar at the border. The bike insurance needed to enter Macedonia costs 50 Euro per bike. Ouch! While the personal at the border tried to help, the language and the Cyrillic added to the difficulties in communication. I managed to get most of my Albanian money changed into Euros at a local store on the Macedonian side. Carol tried, too but did not like the way she was treated by the 4 – 5 young men in the store. She left the store without getting her money exchanged.
We were in Macedonia, the country - no, not the part of Greece or Bulgaria that was once called Macedonia. The conflicts with Greece about the name, about the territory and the language are ancient. No love is lost between the two countries. Macedonia is a very old land, the birth place of Alexander the Great. Naturally, Pella, the actual Birthplace of Alexander is in today’s Greece. But when Alexander was born, this was part of the Macedonian Empire and therefore he was Macedonian. Confusing? No matter, we are just riding and visiting, we do not have to solve any of the animosity between the two countries.
Not far from the border, the first larger town we come to, Struga, is our stop for the night. Positioned directly on Lake Ohrid it serves as tourist destination for many Balkan Nations. The lake is unique in the world and Wikipedia spells out:
Lake Ohrid (Macedonian: Охридско Езеро, Ohridsko Ezero; Albanian: Liqeni i Ohrit) straddles the mountainous border between the southwestern Republic of Macedonia and eastern Albania. It is one of Europe's deepest and oldest lakes, preserving a unique aquatic ecosystem with more than 200 endemic species that is of worldwide importance.[1] The importance of the lake was further emphasized when it was declared a World Heritage site by UNESCO in 1979. However, human activity on the lake shores and in its catchment area is resulting in the ecosystem coming under stress
Similar to Lake Baikal in Siberia, Lake Ohrid has a unique ecosystem. Although the beaches are fragile and endangered I wanted to see them and the uniqueness of it all. We later passed on the beaches when it turned cold and stormy. We walked around town, enjoyed the many shops in the pedestrian only zone, took a picture of the Poet Bridge, where once or twice a year international poets read their latest creations in their own language to onlookers along the river’s edge. We made the best of the town before the thunderstorm drove us for cover. Timing is everything and we enjoyed a wonderful, local meal while the rain drummed in buckets on the roof.
We were in Macedonia, a land locked country with a history so old, so long, so complicated it boggles my mind. We are in Macedonia, with a future that boggles the minds of many people. What will this country look like in years to come? The language is ancient, complicated. The writing is Cyrillic and again, complicated to the modern Western World. Most of the land is mountainous. Half the land is too rugged to farm. Split into Muslim and Christian faiths Macedonia struggles along. Yes, it has applied to join the EU. In better condition than Albania, it too, has Mercedes Benz cars in the streets. Again it is said that Russians buy the nicest, best parts of Macedonia for their vacation homes. Techno music sounds from coffee bars in bigger cities. Men wear horizontally stripped T-shirts and Gym trousers with a stripe running vertically along the outside of the pant legs. All men I saw smoked cigarettes. Many men had ultra short hair cuts. Women are made up, dressed well but in colors and styles quite different than my eyes are used to. All the signs I describe are signs of heavy Russian influence, if not of Russia itself. There is money in Macedonia but I would say it is Russian tourist money, not money from the GNP of Macedonia. I have seen no factories; I cannot say what Macedonia produces that is needed worldwide. While the past of Macedonia can be studied, the future cannot be predicted.
Carol will write the rest of the Macedonian story as it was a more personal journey for her.

Lezhe, Albania

A glorious morning started us off, the weather was wonderful. Finding our way through Montenegro is easy enough and once familiar with the road signs, it is not difficult to find your way. Naturally we got lost a few times because I did not see the one sign giving us directions, but we managed well. Montenegro is not large. The valuable land is along the coast, and I am told is mostly owned by rich Russians. I have rarely seen so many Mercedes Benz cars in one spot. Not the latest models, mind you, but the Mercedes Star is on about 50% of the cars on the road. Smoke puffs out of their maladjusted mufflers, choking you when you ride behind them. The same is true for the busses and trucks that run on diesel fuel. Most emit a visible, black exhaust. I felt a scratchy throat at the end of the day from riding in traffic, at a slow pace behind clouds of emissions.
The whole coastline of Montenegro looks wonderful and there are towns that are exclusively for the very rich. Sh. Stefani is such a town. I only saw it from afar since it is placed on an Island and to get to it was too difficult and time consuming. We followed the coastline and the roads are in basic good shape. Yes, we went through the resort towns of Budva and Petrovac but did not stop there. These towns were busy metropolitan towns, lots of traffic, lots of noise, lots of cars, and yes, they had some beach sections but we went on. The high, rugged mountains to the left of us probably had some awesome riding roads but we wanted to make it to Albania and with a short dip towards the capital of Podgorica we took a short cut and entered Albania.
What a shock it was. The crossing into Albania was without difficulty. Yes, we had to change money (I Euro = about 140 Leke), yes I bought a map of Albania since I could not find a map outside of Albania and yes, and we had to by extra Insurance for 9 Euros each bike. All the formalities were very friendly; it was a cinch getting into Albania. What shocked me and especially Carol, were the road conditions and the way people lived. The housing was old, made of concrete blocks and not well taken care of. The first 60 or so Km of the main road was like a washboard. I took a BMW strap I carry for emergencies and tightened it around Carol’s Givi top box. The box bounced so much that we were afraid it would fall off. Everything rattled that was not tight or screwed down tight.
Potholes abounded. The road took our full attention and concentration. We missed the chance to take some pictures of missing manhole covers in the middle of town but we did see in time that the covers were missing. One uncovered manhole had an old tire stuck in it to warn drivers, another was just there, no warning, no barricade. In the middle of the road, in the normal tire track I passed a manhole with no cover. I felt like I was back in Siberia. Albania has applied for entry into the EU but I cannot see how they can manage to get in. The roads are deplorable; the living conditions are one of the poorest I have seen on this trip. And we just entered this country and it is early afternoon. Where will we sleep tonight? Entering Albania is like stepping back in time. A lot of merchandise is still transported by horse. I saw coal delivery wagons, trash and scrap iron hauled this way. We shared the road with pigs, cows, horses, a very over-loaded hay wagon and even a woman pushing a wheelbarrow filled with water jugs.
After a few miles we entered the larger town of Shkoder. I could not see a hotel, yet I also saw smoke spewing Mercedes Benz cars. So there must be some money here. I was concerned about finding a hotel. Where do you start when you do not speak the language? To make things worse, a lot of signs are in Cyrillic. When we entered the next bigger town of Lezhe I stopped and asked a police man sitting in a car if the town has a hotel. He thought a little and then indicated to follow him. This nice guy led us into town and stopped in front of the, presumably, only, hotel in town and with a smile, left us there. Naturally, it started to rain just then. I left the bikes with Carol and walked into the lobby of the only hotel and surprise, they had a room for us for 4200 Leke (30 Euro) incl. breakfast. Parking was in the back of the hotel behind the hanging laundry but was not easy to find since it involved finding your way by reckoning alone through the one-way back alleys of the neighborhood.. We made it; we had a hotel for the night.
It was early in the afternoon but I felt good that we stopped. Firstly we avoided the major rain fall, then we found a hotel with a spot for our bikes and we were in a major town and could explore whatever there was too see. We survived the first part of Albania’s roads without accident and are in one piece. The top box, albeit rattling severely, did not come off. Walking up and down the streets of Lezhe gave us a chance to observe Albanian life on a Friday afternoon with people rushing about. The sun had returned and the weather was pleasant. We could adjust ourselves to our new surroundings.
Yes it was a shock to enter into a county in Europe that is still very much like it was 30 or 50 years ago. The past Communistic Regime’s imprint is still clearly visible and has not advanced much in the last decade. Visit Albania and you will visit like you would have visited in 1980. There is a lot of work to be done here. The people are friendly, helpful, and basically happy but I felt like the leadership, the master plan was missing. Buildings have been started and then abandoned. Old factories are in decay. Lots of young families and/or young men have little work and little income. Friday night’s entertainment was to walk the large main street up and down and to show off your new dress or pants and be seen; or to sit and watch the strollers and enjoy your cup of coffee; strong Turkish coffee that causes heart palpitations. Lezhe is no tourist town but it served us well as our first town in Albania.
Dinner for two was an amazing 1500 Leke that night. Albania is a bargain to travel in if you find a hotel.

Kotor, again!

We woke up to tremendous thunder, to buckets of rain coming down outside our room. Lucky for us we had covered the bikes with our bike covers before we went to sleep. Do we get dressed and ride in this weather? The sky is gray, the town deserted outside. It is early, 6 AM. Breakfast is not being served until 9 AM, we paid for it already. Everything is soaking wet outside. It would be a good time and a good way to leave; we could even fire up the motors and ride out of this Forbidden City since I believe no policeman would be walking his beat in this kind of downpour. Not even a dog is stupid enough to walk through a miserable, cold shower like this.
I did what I very seldom do, I did nothing. It is now 10.30 AM and I am sitting in the bar downstairs writing these words. I had my omelet, a cup of strong coffee and all is updated on my blog journal. All I need is an internet connection, but with weather like this the satellite uplink will not work. Carol solved 2 difficult Sudoku puzzles already. There is just nothing to do but read and wait. The rain is letting up; it still rains, but not as heavily as earlier. We walk from shop to shop around the town. I get to know the town dog that lives by himself in town without ownership. Somehow he survives. I get to see how the town of Kotor moves without any tourists. The rain surly keeps the visitors away. The real pace of Kotor is very slow. The local people talk to each other, say hello, shake hands, give each other a kiss on each cheek and just talk. It sure is small town living. Women sit under a large umbrella, smoking their cigarettes, talking. We are the outsiders, the visitors with the money. They are the owners of this place.
Carol and I walk all over town in the afternoon. By now the rain has stopped but it is too late to start riding. We will wait until tomorrow. We discover little visited sections of town;
see an old hospital built by the Venetians and a fish market. We see dilapidated buildings, too. We hear the bells of all the churches in town toll. We hear the practice session of the local orchestra, trying to play a Bolero. It sounds terrible. We see things with a visitor’s eye yet we try to be as local as possible. Carols sends some postcards to her loved ones. I just sit and take in this village life; the good of it and the ugly, too.
I know life is the daily in and out for most people; daily routine, daily chores, daily responsibilities. I am very lucky, I am blessed, I can just visit and then leave. The people here have to stay every day, face the tourists every day. Their very existence depends on visitors. Kotor is a tourist spot; not extremely attractive, but good enough for a one day stop over. Cruise ships are the main source of income for all. The lack of parking spaces makes visits by car cumbersome if not impossible.
We will leave Kotor tomorrow, rain or shine, yet I also had a great time doing nothing but watch.

Kotor, Montenegro (MNE)

We left Dubrovnik quietly early in the morning; our bikes were unscathed, even though they were parked for 3 days in a free public parking lot accessible to all. On the way south on the main road, I kept looking back in the rear mirror to catch a last glimpse of Dubrovnik. The roads in Croatia are in great shape. I am now used to the way the signage is arranged but before I knew it we were at the border with Montenegro.
The international sign for Montenegro is MNE and MNE is listed on all car license plates. The currency in MNE is the Euro, which is a sure indication that MNE is part of the EU. We had some extra paper work to do to get into MNE since Stefan Knopf did not add MNE to the insurance papers we bought through him. The border guards were very thorough but it was painless. We were able to buy the needed Insurance at the border for 10 Euros and the coverage is good for one month.
As always, there is a change in appearance when crossing a border in Europe. MNE has a much more Slavic look than I thought. The former Russian influence is strongly visible. MNE is very mountainous with few areas for anything that needs flat ground. The coast offers some respite in spots but then all of this flat space is occupied by housing. MNE seems crowded. The one road along the coast is heavily trafficked and the speed limit of 50 KM is strictly enforced. Progress is slow. Many times I was in 1st gear, crawling through city streets. I bought a map of the county as soon as we crossed the border and it helped me get my bearings quickly. Having a baptism on the use of Balkan signage in previous countries, I understood the directions just fine. Before long we came to the town of Kotor, a scenic site and officially marked as such on the map. Kotor is a UNESCO site because of the well preserved Old Town and the many stone walls protecting the city from invaders from all sides.
Cruise ships stop right at the door step of this old MNE town. I mean it literally, the cruise ships dock not more than 200 yards from the entrance to the Old Town. There is no parking to speak of. The only main road along the coast passes between the docking area and the entrance to the Old Town, which is off limits to any motorized traffic. We had planned of stopping here but needed to find a hotel although none were visible. We understood immediately that there is just not enough room for hotels, no room for anything, really.
We found a coffee shop a bit out of town and stopped to address our predicament. We wanted to stop for the day especially since we had been riding in a heavy down pour for the previous hour and were soaking wet. I remembered the Russian saying: “What to do?” With the help of locals we found out that there is a hotel inside the old town and that it might be possible to even park our bikes inside Old Town Kotor if the hotel had room. After we parked our bikes near a bench in front of the main gate, with Carol sitting nearby to watch our belongings, I walked into town and yes, for 50 Euros, incl. breakfast we had a room for the night. Getting our motorcycles into town was a bit tricky since no motorized vehicles are allowed inside the ancient walls. The hotel had a storage facility for our bikes but getting into town, along the very narrow, very slick cobblestone streets gave me a challenge. Pushing the heavy bike was out of the question, leaving them unprotected outside the old city walls was no option either. So, like so many times in my life, I do what seems the most logical. We rode the bikes to the hotel. Now that we were at the storage spot I found out that there was no way to get our bikes up this high curb into the room. Lucky for us there was space in front of the storage facility and we just hoped nobody would mess with our transportation.
The town of Kotor is not very large and was originally set up in a triangle. Kotor is built against a very steep cliff wall, surrounded by the sea on one side, and a large river on the third side. It has a natural protection from 2 sides and the 3rd side of the triangle is the cliff wall. The protection of the cliff wall was further enhanced by high, defensive walls, which surround the town completely even at sea level. Kotor is a formidable fortress yet feels like a smallish settlement.
While idling away the hours inside and outside of town, we saw other bikers with the same predicament we were in a few hours before. Where do you park your bike? How do you find a hotel? How do you manage to visit? From the cruise ships the visit to Kotor is easy. Just walk in. With a bike or a car it is not a very logically set up. There is just not enough room for anything too touristy. Enterprising folks used towns nearby to set up hotels but the traffic and distances makes this cumbersome. We helped one U.S. couple and a young German rider to find the way to ‘our’ hotel but since they were on a very tight budget they decided against staying and paying 50 Euros for one night. The couple, Elizabeth and Jason from NYC,
had just married and were on a one year tour around the world, or as far as they could get in time and/or money. They were riding 2 up on an R 80 BMW. Daniel, the young man from Zwickau, Germany rode a brand new GS 800. We had a coffee together and shared some info but they soon needed to leave since it was getting dark and the sky clouded over, again, too.
Carol and I just walked the small town, walked through every conceivable alley since we had time. Dinner was a pizza for me, spaghetti for Carol.

Dubrovnik, Day 2 and 3

We got up early, had a Danish from the bakery next door for breakfast, a coffee from across the street and we were climbing the staircase that leads to the walk around the whole of old town Dubrovnik by 8.30 AM. We were told to do the walk early as there is no protection from the sun and it can get really hot walking the 2 Km around Dubrovnik this way. Not only is the walk long but also laced with steep stair cases going up as well as down. Carol counted the stairs up only and the count was 376 steps. We had a good morning exercise for sure. Nothing is for free in Dubrovnik; the walk costs KN 75 (Euro 10.-). Your ticket will be checked half way around again.
The walk gave us bird’s eye views of the city itself but also of the Adriatic Sea way below. This city surely picked a pretty spot to plant itself. While the old harbor is manmade, the whole of the layout, including the harbor, is pleasing. I could tell that good planners had a hand in setting up the streets, the municipal buildings, the churches. The effect on the eyes, on the mind is very calming. Dubrovnik is a lovely town.
Historically most of the buildings date from 1667 or thereafter, since a very large earthquake leveled most of the town in that year. Of course the town itself is much, much older. While the books tell us that Ragusa (Dubrovnik’s old name) was founded in the 7th century, another theory, and the one I like much better, is that the Greeks had a post or station here. Greek boats could only travel 45 to 50 nautical miles per day. At night old Greek boats were always pulled on to a sandy beach by the sailors so they could sleep and rest. Known Greek settlements were in Budva and Korčula, 95 Nautical miles apart. Dubrovnik is right in the middle. It had sandy beaches in ancient times. So why would the Greeks not use this spot to rest at night? Why would they not settle here too, especially since Dubrovnik had fresh water? So my theory is that this town was established by the Greeks, a long time ago.
I always ask myself why a town is there. I mean, what made people settle here? Yes, Dubrovnik became a big stopover of ships during the many crusades in the middle ages. Yes, Dubrovnik is in the middle of the East and West trade routes and a shipping trade center that the Venetians were always keen to possess. Yes, it was prosperous and the people were educated and forward thinking when those in a lot of other towns were not. It is documented that as early as 1301 medical services were introduced. Ragusa had an official pharmacy as early as 1317 and this pharmacy where you can buy drugs and have prescriptions filled, is still open today. Slave trading was abolished in 1418; imagine, 1418, way before others even thought about it. An official, 20 KM long, city water supply system was constructed for the whole of the town in 1436. Dubrovnik had a system established for orphans as early as 1432. To control the great plaques they established a quarantine hospital, a lazaretto, in 1377. The republic of Ragusa had Statutes as early as 1272.
Dubrovnik was and is an amazing city. Even today, the city is well run, well governed and prides itself on being self sufficient. The traces of the last war with Serbia in 1991 are hardly visible.
We looked at all the local people from the top of the wall; we saw what they built. Yes, the walk beats you up, yes, you get out of breath sometimes, but it is a must see walk. Dubrovnik is not only the old city, of course. Carol and I spent 3 days in old Ragusa but could not see all there is to see. We did not visit the surrounding islands. For me, 3 days in one place is enough, I need to move on. I like the big picture, not the smaller details.
We took a rest after our work out on day 2 and luckily we had no plans because the sky clouded over and it poured buckets of water. We needed to eat something since breakfast was scarce and, despite the rain, we walked into town to find a restaurant. Most of the eating is done in outside patios, to find an inside restaurant large enough was not easy. For some time we believed we could eat under an umbrella setup but the proprietor refused to serve in the rain even under the umbrella. He made room for us at a small table under an overhang and we had our small fried fish in the rain, but fairly sheltered.
The last day, day 3, we had bought concert tickets for a night performance. To occupy us during the day, we bought a self guided tour booklet and Carol was giving me a tour of Dubrovnik, she did a great job. We visited the famous old drugstore. For a change of pace we visited the only mosque in town. Carol also visited the synagogue, established by Spanish and Portuguese Jews banned from the Iberian Peninsula in the 15th century by the Catholic Crown.
We learned about the pledge of Richard the Lion Hearted, who after the 3rd crusade (1189-1199) found shelter in Dubrovnik and promised to build a church if he survived a storm at sea. He was the money man behind the Dubrovnik Cathedral.
Ruder Boskovic (1711-1787), his theses about particles of an atom; confirmed by Rutherford’s experiments, were predecessors of Planck’s Quantum Theory.
Dubrovnik was, and is today, in the center of many things. The minds of the people are strong and the city is beautiful.
At our night performance, we heard 3 pieces of music, one by Mozart, 2 by Mendelssohn, directed by a Russian-born conductor. The members of the Dubrovnik Orchestra were such a mix of people, a representation of the cosmos in which Dubrovnik sits. East and West, the whole world is represented here.
This city sure is the Crown Pearl of the Adriatic, and the Crown Jewel of Croatia.