Wetland and Smokestacks in east Texas

NOVEMBER 4, 2012

I love/hate Texas.   There are some many beautiful parts of the state.  I stopped by Martin Creek Lake State Park for a trail run.  There was a wonderful mix of desert scrub and wetlands.... and oil refineries.

Jeb Bush Bjorn Lomborg 2016!!!

Moonshadow in BFE, Alabama

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NOVEMBER 1, 2012

“I’m being followed by a moon shadow.” 

– Cat Stevens

I wake up alone somewhere in southern Alabama, near my next destination of Panama City Beach.  The nighttime lows in the low 50’s make me wish I had made a real camp instead of just throwing down my sleeping pad and burritoing my sleeping bag in a tarp.  It was cold.  Two days past a full moon and the light from the moon was bright enough to make me wake up squinting a couple times in the night before pulling the tarp over my eyes and dozing back off to never never land.  A couple thousand miles north and those in the Northeast are recovering from the most severe storm of modern days.  The property damage is staggering.  But to think some people cannot live without electricity for 24 hours will always perplex me.

Has it seriously been a week since I returned to the U.S.?  And have I seriously traveled as many miles in that week as I did in the previous 6 in Europe?

Family time in Detroit…  quality time with friends Scott and Melissa …the official end of Cyndi and my 5 year relationship in St. Paul …a presentation at University of Wiconsin Eau Claire  …blues in Nashville …amazing vegan food in Birmingham, Alabama of all places.

Changes.  World moving fast.  Reentry is always hell.

Can’t slow down. 

Talledega Nat'l Forest in Alabama

Must slow down.

Last Call in Ljubjana, Slovenia

Each lock had the name of a couple on it. Pretty cool tradition.

OCTOBER 21, 2012

"Whatever I have suffered in the months past has been nothing compared with the beauty in which I have steeped my soul, so to speak.  It has been a priceless experience - and I am glad it is not over.  I think it would have given you a new lease on life to have ssen what I have seen."
 - Everrett Reuss, in the collected letters from the book Everett Reuss: A Vagabond For Beauty 


Won't be long now until I get back to the US and don't have to worry about walking in the wrong pisser. 

 

Moski?  Zeske?  I wouldn't be more confused if there was Rupal's face on one and SNL's Pat on the other.

Cross your fingers and hope there's a urinal on the other side.

 

As the last town on my stop, it would only make sense that I make one final amazing connection with fellow travelers.  Becca and Lenny were checking in the H2ostle the same time I was.  This trip of theirs was to look similar to mine – Eastern Europe backcountry follow by rambling in the US – with a couple major exceptions.  They were Kiwis and had yet to be to the states.  And instead of doing the bs LA to NYC route that most visitors to the US did – mistaking those cities for the real US – they will dive right into the heart of it spending a couple seasons through hiking the Pacific Crest Trail from the Mexican border to Canada.  How effing epic is that?  Something that few Americans do, these two would just dive right in and go.  Inspiring.  I don’t know how, or where, yet I have a feeling I’ll be driving up the Left Coast next spring and run into these two.  Don’t ask.  I just know.

Lubjana is a wonderful city.  I wandered around the old town area and was treated to my first Indian food in weeks.  Curry!  Salt!  Flavor!  Amazingness all around.

 

The next morning, a trail run.  I could have crammed a million other things into my day to take advantage of my last day east of the pond.  But, really, did I need to.  Any day that begins with foggy single track and ends with raw chocolate desert, hot tea, and a book shouldn’t be pressed.  It was a perfect finale.

Fun at the Castle in Bled, Slovenia

OCTOBER 20, 2012

 

Not that there is a mathematical formula to my happiness …or that I obsess about what said non-existent formula would look like, because that’s how my mind works …but if a formula did exist, the variables would clearly be Exercise, Nature, the right People.  After two days of the perfect exercise, and nature, the People part came together.  I spent an evening having dinner with an English dude, Kiwi woman and new arrival from Germany.  After dinner we spent an unforgettable evening playing at an old castle.   

Emerald Green Water in Bled, Slovenia

OCTOBER 19, 2012

The mind of an addict is an interesting thing.  I watch movies like Trainspotting and think, “That’s ridiculous.  How could someone have to shoot heroin every single time they see it when they know it’s a bad idea.”  Then I substitute the heroin part with  “swim in the ocean” or “run on the trail” and it all makes sense.

 

The property where I am staying shares a property line with the community track.  So, like the addict I am, I completely ignore the fact that my minimalist shoes should have been thrown away two weeks and 100 kilometers ago and that my quads feel like hell from the morning bike and hike and head out to the track that had previously served as my personal well-padded yoga studio for the week.

Stunting? 

And speaking of my morning bike and hike.  I borrowed a bike and headed out to Triglav National Park.  As the only National Park in Slovenia, I’d have to say that if you’re only going to do one, this is how to do it.

Been a while since I had a good pod slapping.

Of course there's a Pizzaria sign in the middle of the woods.

This photo is so unedited my fingers haven't been cropped out. That's how bright the water and leaves were.

Steep rock walls were split in two by emerald green water.  There were few hikers and site seers so I basically had the place to myself.  Well, me and the stray cat I made friends with.

stupid tourist photo

Blue Water in Bled, Slovenia

OCTOBER 18, 2012

How clear was the water? Those rocks in the foreground were 4 feet under it

Drawn once again to by the sight of mountains and the sounds of moving water, I found myself in a small town known as a gateway city for adventure and endurance sports.  There’s something slightly overwhelming, if not frightening, about arriving at a train or bus station and being swallowed up by the whole of humanity in a bigger city.  Conversely, there’s something peaceful yet refreshing about deboarding the train in a town like bled and being the only person there.  Not one taxi.  Not one tall building in site.  I knew this was going to be my kind of place.

It was so rural I actually had to pull out my compass to figure out which way the lake was.  In short time I was on my way. 

This late in October all the outfitters in town were closed and all I had to work with was my running shoes and a mid-grade mountain bike.  It was plenty.  After unpacking I took a quick run around the lake. 

I’d love to tell you about the thriving night life of Bled.  But I took advantage of having the nicest, nicest quietest hostel roommate in the history of nice quiet hostel roommates and went to bed at 9 p.m.   A full twelve hours later I was recharged and ready to take on the world.

Lunch in Venice, Italy

OCTOBER 17, 2012

A day trip to Venice, Italy seemed ridiculous on several accounts.  First, it’s Venice, right?  Second, I’m trying to get in the woods, not another overpriced tourist town.  Third, it is a bucket list city for many people and I feel like I should give it a bit more respect than a quick drive by for lunch.  Nonetheless, the girls from South Carolina I met on the train to Ljubjana, Slovenia talked me into it.  They had been there several weeks prior and could not say enough good things about it.  With yet more rain at my new mountain destination of Lake Bled, I thought I’d give it a shot.  Glad I did.

Someone en route told me that if I liked the canals of Amsterdam, I would love Venice.  I love Venice.

Even the doorbells had character

What was so unique about Venice was that, aside from the shops selling trinkets and trash, nothing seemed manufactured or fake and it was all really clean.  The buildings seemed to be decaying at their own natural speed giving them incredible amounts of charm.  Nothing was painted over to be made new and nothing was classed up with anything ornamental to make draw the tourists’ eye.  It was all just awesome.

This one looked way cooler on a topless Nicole Kidman.

One of the shops I was drawn into was the mask shop that produced several of the Venetian masks for the Stanley Kubrick film “Eyes Wide Shut.”  Don’t ask me what the appeal was.  I’m typically not interested in artsy shops of any kind and it’s not like Nicole Kidman was standing there wearing nothing but a mask and an eye patch.  The masks were just intriguing.

I only covered about a third of the city.  Another couple days were in order to take it all in.  Unfortunately, my baggage stowed in a locker in Trieste, Italy and needed to be picked up by 6 pm.  Had my luggage been in Venice I would have likely shelled out the cash to stay for another day or three.  That was it – no pizza, no spaghetti, no gondola ride.  I was off. 

Trapped in the Burbs of Savana, Slovenia

OCTOBER 16, 2012

“I’m just sittin here watching the wheels go round and round.”  

-  John Lennon

  

One week to go.   I can’t say, “wow that went by fast,” because it really didn’t.  My pace was quicker than most people travel, while at the same time reasonable to me.  There were very few times I felt rushed or that I wanted to see more landmarks and such at any given place.  All the same, I would really like to extend the trip by, I dunno, maybe two years. 

And, of course, there are days like today when the mass transportation gods are not on my side and I’m completely forced to slow down.  And in this case, do it in Savana, Slovenia.  A suburb with zero character or entertainment. 

One of the downsides to meeting so many adventurous free spirits is that their grand scale of their travels can lead to a bit of travel envy.  Moving from hostel to hostel I have heard of the most wonderful escape-from-society stories.  These range from Ken’s 19 month bike tour (referenced in the Skopje post a month ago) to Ibraham’s off and on travel schedule since 1977 to a whole slew of white collar castaways who are just l-i-v-i-n.

Hearing these stories and travel agendas (or lack thereof) makes me keep adding things to my Life List.  The more people I talk to, the more places I hear about.  The more places I hear about, the more I want to travel.  It’s like an aggressive pop up ad explosion from a late-90’s porn webpage.  It really can’t be stopped. 

Fortunately, I’ve made myself slow down from time to time on this trip.   Practice yoga.  Meditate. Sit on random park bench.  Watch the pigeons.  Journal.  In this, I’ve gained a greater appreciation for where I’ve been and the inspiring people I’ve met.

A week from now I’ll be back in Detroit.  A week after that I’ll be in Panama City Beach.  A week after that I’ll be in Santa Barbara.  A week after that I’ll be in San Francisco.  It’s not like my travels are nearing an end.  I’m still technically homeless and running an internet-based company after all.  I’m just nearing the end of the European portion of the trip, and the look back is awesome.

Now back to the pigeon watching.

Staying Dry in Zagreb, Croatia

OCTOBER 15, 2012

The weather had cleared by the time I arrived in Zagreb and I made the call to stay there for the night and perhaps make another run at getting west to Plitvice Lake National Park to see the waterfalls in the morning.  I found a hostel, changed, and headed out for a trail run in one of the many parks just north of the city.  Despite being in the biggest party hostel I’ve stayed (free shot at the door, organized pub crawl, and a huge bar right in the hostel), I managed to have a very chill night.  My room was a four bed dorm and I was the only one.  Some quick furniture rearranging and I had my own yoga studio on the top floor, away from the chaos of the drunk Americans and Aussies four floors below.  It was perfect. 

In the middle of the night I woke up to the sound of rain with an intensity I haven’t heard in a while.  After checking the weather reports in the morning I came to the realization there would be no Plitvice Lake N.P. on this trip.  While the rest of the hostel slept off their hangovers, I packed up and headed out of town shortly after sunrise in an attempt to find drier ground. 

Hari Krishna Kirtan in Sarajevo, Bosnia

OCTOBER 14, 2012

“Oh my God!  You will starve here!”   

- Irma, my friend and guide, upon hearing that I was a vegetarian in Bosnia

Another “coincident” relating my study of the Gita came later in the day.

The weather turned foul last night with temperatures falling and rain coming down in sheets.  This morning was still chilly and wet, though the rain subsided long enough for me to log my Sunday long run.  Though I have referenced it very little, this trip has turned transitioned me from triathlete to runner based on sheer lack of bike availability.  My route planning for runs has been just as lax as the rest of the logistics planning and I found myself running painfully steep hills above the city.  The run lasted only 70 minutes but completely broke me for the rest of the day.  There would be little sight seeing beyond the 500 meter radius surrounding my hostel.  Fortunately, there were other options.

 

The night before, I checked out the couple bars my guide recommended.  I’m sure they would have been wonderful had I stuck around longer.  But I can get drunk, be ignored by beautiful women, and have smoke blown in my face by over-collogned douchebags anywhere in the world and didn’t feel the need to have that be part of my Bosnia experience.  Out on the street, there was live drumming somewhere near by.  Despite my tinnitus from years of concerts, it is one unmistakable sound I seem to be able to pick out of a backdrop of city noise.  The drumming was coming from a three-piece Hari Krishna band that included a harmonium (keyboard instrument), guitar and drum.  I spoke to a couple of the devotees who were hanging around and was invited to their Kirtan the next day (today).  

With the possible exception of the Diamond Way Buddhists in Minneapolis, I have never met such a loving group of people.  It was my first time going to any kind of Hari Krishna event and I had no idea what to expect and was a little nervous about how many social, cultural, and religious protocols I would break.  In no time I was welcomed into their group and enjoyed a great evening of conversation, song, and the biggest vegetarian feast you could ever imagine.  It was without question one of my favorite events of my travels up to this point.

Back at the hostel that night I aborted plans to return to western Croatia to visit the Plitvice Lake National Park because of temps in the 40’s and 50’s with 80% chance of rain.  Instead, I am heading north as I type this.  Transport to Zagreb is locked down.  We’ll see if I can press on all the way to Graz, Austria before the night is up.

Drinking the Water in Sarajevo, Bosnia

OCTOBER 13, 2012

In the past several days, I took the time to delve into the two copies of the Bagvad Gita I had been carrying with me during the trip.  The Gita is a short tale, written in verse, taken from the much larger Indian Vedic epic The Mahabarata.  The story chronicles the struggle of the warrior, Arjuna, in his dilemma of whether or not to go to enter battle against an army of his own family and peers.  The story, and my reading of it in Sarajevo, couldn’t have possibly been more apropos.

For those who hold a fascination with architecture and history, Sarajevo, Bosnia should be placed on the top of their list of Balkan cities to visit.  Walking through the old town area was such a gem.  In all honesty, a bit of travel weariness had crept into my being in the last week and since leaving the beaches of the west coast I had lost a bit of interest in the history of the region, in favor of time spent in and around the ocean and mountains.  Sarajevo changed this a bit for me.

 

 

Much of the city was restored to its original pre-war form, or better.  At the same time many of the buildings still showed their scars from the shelling they took over a decade ago. 

Sarajevo was the first stop on my trip where a local, someone I met through a friend-of-a-friend type of connection, would be me guide.  Between her, a talkative taxi driver I would later hire, and a guy I would meet the next day at a Kirtan, I learned much of the city’s history.  Sadly, they validated the horrible stories of bloodshed and neighbor vs neighbor that I had read on the internet.

It is said that those who drink from the fountain will return.  So I guess we'll see you soon Sarajevo.

Rain in Mostar, Bosnia

OCTOBER 12, 2012

As proof that last night was not a dream, I woke up at seven this morning to the sound of the rain that I watched roll in from the west a few hours prior.  In an odd way is was refreshing.  Twenty nine out of thirty travel days in the sun isn’t exactly a bad streak, eh?

The eight am bus from Dubrovnik put me in Mostar, Bosnia-Hercegovinia by noon.  If ever there was a perfect day for a nap, this was it.  Cold.  Rainy.  Quiet guest house. And nap I did.

The weather situation was not improving outside.  After wrapping myself is several pieces of Gore-Tex like the American I am,  I headed out and watched the city of Mostar unfolded rather quietly before me.  If the sun in Dubrovnik drew out the tourists, the rain in Mostar scarred them away. 

The city of Mostar was shelled heavily during the 1990’s and the effects of the fighting are still apparent in the street.  One of the landmark sights of the city is the old bridge.  Build in the 15^th century as part of Ottoman rule, the bridge stood the test of time until 1993 (1994?)  when it collapsed during the war.  Rebuilt with help from UNESCO a year later, it stands as the most visited spot in the city today.

During better weather, locals will hang out on the bridge collecting money from tourists to jump in the icy fast-moving waters below.  Apparently there weren’t enough of us fudgies out there today to make it worth their while and my mostar experience included no high divers.

Meet Ibrahim.  He's been traveling for 30 years and seems to cross my path every other country.

Lightning in Dubrovnik, Croatia

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OCTOBER 11, 2012

EAT, PRAY, RUN

 

Expectations are a dangerous thing.  Each time I came to city with a vision and description delivered to me from other friends and travelers, I seemed to walk away with a completely different experience.  Dubrovnik was no exception.  The claim was that this city had the most impressive Old Town that you could spend days and days wandering and that it had the most progressive dining menu for a vegan like me.

True, the old city/fortress was nothing short of spectacular. 

Marble streets that defy description seemed to carry on for kilometers.  However, even in October I found myself completely crowded and even frequently bumped into by other tourists oblivious to any space outside their own skin.  Even this late in the season there were cruise ships docking up in this port town. 

I gotta recomendation from a mountain biker in Kosovo, then took a train, 6 buses, and hitchhiked the rest of the way.  Why, how did you get here?  Oh, never mind. 

Dining options were just as meaty as any other Balkan country I visited, despite many restaurants advertising vegetarian and healthy option on their menu.   After my morning run along the shoreline, and a walk around the city walls from 10 am until noon with a Canadian brother and sister duo I met at the hostel, I absolutely had to get out of there.

The island of Lokum is a mere 15 minute boat ride from Dubrovnik.  My yoga mat and I got the first boat out.  Once there, I spent an amazing afternoon practicing yoga and meditating on the cliffs off the far side of the island.  Moments following the meditation session I found myself in the most wonderful conversation about life, travel, and the world at large with a Austria-based French tourist on holiday.  It was the type of “random” connection and conversation that could only possibly happen immediately following time on the mat.  So much so, I am not ruling out that it wasn’t all a beautiful manifestation of my imagination. 

Some hours later that night while the rest of the city drank the night away or slept in the cozy comforts of their beds, I found myself sitting on the rocky shore in a quiet little inlet adjacent to a monastery and a full 50 meters below the street noise.  There, I counted the quiet splash of waves as a storm rolled in from sea and was reminded why life is worth living in the present moment.  It was a time and place that shall remain engrained in my heart and mind for a long time coming.