croatian caves and a zagreb taxi driver

We were leaving Zagreb on a train to Llubljana, Slovenia. Our taxi driver was unimpressed. For him, Bled was just a "muddy lake" compared to the Adriatic. "If it were me," he continued, "the only thing I would see in Slovenia is the caves!" I was finding it difficult to leave Croatia. Perhaps if you live in a country as vibrant and stunning as the Croatia I've seen, the rest of the world may same very cave-like indeed; dark, dirty, monotone, and still. Yet, we left Split the very afternoon anti-gay protestors were shouting "Death to Gays" against participants in an annual Gay Pride Parade. Demonstrations were broken up by riot police in full combat gear, armed with tear gas. There were over a hundred arrests. The taxi driver in Zagreb apologised outright for overcharging us because he couldn't afford to wait for custom for over two hours only to drive us a few hundred metres down the road for very little money. So, in the most important ways of nationhood, perhaps Croatia is still a little "cave like". I don't mean to end my travels in Croatia on a sombre note. But at times travelling allows you only to exist in bubble. You forget that you are merely a passerby; and if you don't try hard enough to look behind the city others choose to live in which you have only chosen to visit; you may miss some very important things.

♥ Photo/notes of a train trip from Zagreb to Llubljana ♥

♥ Next Stop: Slovenia, Llubljana and Bled, Llubljana ♥
♥ For more of my travel posts, click here. For more of my travel pictures, click here ♥

a lady in split

I've seen a few places. But none like this. Split is like the most beautiful, captivating, inspiring woman you know. She is stunning; so stunning that she is like cool, dappled shade on a scorching hot summer day. She is urban and sophisticated; well-read yet humble with her knowledge; at times she is young, and when appropriate, she is old. You cannot pin her down and every time you think you have, she slips your grasp. Flirtatious, vibrant, fresh, fun. I want to tell you to come and meet her; but then I also want to keep her to myself.

Next Stop: Zagreb, Croatia

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a secret you can't keep in dubrovnik

The Old Town of Dubrovnik is a supermodel. It looks good at every angle. The trees are practically tipping over they're so fat with oranges and furry quince. Sometimes when the light is right, the streets made entirely of white marble gleam and glow. There are bright pink and white flowers against knobbly tan stones, lines of washing suspended over steep stairs, and buses full of French kids on vacation singing La Vie en Rose. There are white wooden shutters, Kool Aid orange buses, and sheer lavender curtains flapping at the edges of frothy white and emerald waters. My mother commented astutely that the old city walls which are 6 metres thick and runs for 2 kms are a testament to the need for men to invade and conquer. They were built partly because the city proved too much of a threat to the mercantile might of Venice. Conversely, I also think that it speaks to the instinct of human beings to protect and shelter; to guard what is theirs against those who want to take. And once you see Dubrovnik, I understand this instict. It's like a badly-kept, yet jealously guarded secret. You try to contain it, smother it, enclose it; but it's beauty seeps out through the very stones of the city walls.

Next Stop: Split, Croatia

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