Vlad's Crib

Some folks in the world tend to put faith behind ideas so silly that reason cannot cast a speck of doubt upon their superstition. Others fall into that other folly, using poorly formed reason to explain away those things they'd rather not care to think of. But reason should allow that our human capacity for knowledge is too limited to explain things away; something not encountered does not prove it's non-existence.

Many have, over time, been silly enough to claim that there is no such thing as a vampire. They have looked at the qualifications of such a being and stated that it cannot be. But I now know differently. I am writing from Brasov, the heart of Transylvania, where my reason allows that, having seen one with my very own eyes, vampires do exist. That cruel, soulless being that has sold all association with good in order to extend life; who returns from death to impart pain upon all those silly enough to wander into the highlands of Romania. A mockery of all things holy, a thing none dare challenge as it's reputation precedes it. Yes, I have looked upon this creature with my very eyes:

Two nights previous, Natalie Imbruglia performed here.

So wretched were the cries coming from the stage, the rain pouring down must have been blessed, holy water searing the evil flesh of this creature. I felt a terrible pity for those ten people who had been lulled into attendence, as surely their souls were withering away inside of their flesh. Noises so horrid, that after giving a disc of said artist's to a good friend a decade ago, she still hasn't forgiven me.

Let this be a warning to all.

Current vampires aside, there seems to be a nice little industry springing up around some of the castles here. Just since Mr. Vlad Tepes ('Impaler'), Dragula (son of Dracul) might have spent a night or two in some of these, they have immediately become, *gasp*, Houses of Dracula! Bran Castle is cool enough though, worth the fifty-cent bus ticket. Also, fellow travelers are a nice addition to such an expedition, since it allows for silly jokes on Dracula's this that and commode every few minutes.

..............................................His coffin!

Which reminds me, the money here is very interesting. The 'lei' used to exchange at a rate of 30,000 to the dollar or such. Although it was initially cool to say things like, "Hold on a sec; I need to get a mil from the bank," practical considerations (such as billboards for autos, using most of the space for the Price) obviated the need for less zeroes. Hence, the new Lei, which look just like the old bills, only a bit smaller, and with four less zeroes. 100,000 old lei becomes 10 new lei. Unfortunately, a fellow traveler thought he could get by in Bucharest without researching the country (and currency) beforehand. Thus, after a taxi ride into Bucharest, when he should have paid 17500 old lei (sixty cents), he paid the amount in new lei. After some time, he realized that he had spent 500 euro on a taxi. He shall go unnamed, the poor fellow, but I will say this: He's a Tarheel.

Bucharest wasn't terribly interesting in my opinion, though, so I only spent a few hours there before moving up to Brasov. I took a subway to the gigantic Palace of Parliment, a building which only takes the backseat to the Pentagon in terms of sheer size, and from there, walked the entire length of the city. Meh.


Same went for Belgrade, which I hit before Bucharest. Not that great, but there was, scattered around, a massive deployment of soldiers wearing a sort of riot gear, or perhaps just some form of American Football pads. Though they were out because of the Euro-Basketball finals in Belgrade, they weren't very comforting. I made the mistake of asking one (in Serbian) how to get to a local monument, only to be shooed away under threat of PlexiBludgeoning. Hmph. This, the beat cops who were always shaking somebody down when I saw them, and pictures of Mr. Slobidan Milosevic pasted across the city, made for a rather uncomfortable atmosphere. Anyhow, not the greatest place.

So I'm off to Bulgaria in a bit. Perhaps there I'll upload some photos, since the internet cafe here seems to be the recipient of computers that Americans threw away a decade ago. Forget USB ports; Windows 3.1 doesn't support much in the way of html blogging. [Picture update 2.10.05]

Sleep well.


P.S. It occurred to me while writing the oddity of the word "deceased"; shouldn't this be limited to describing vampires and the undead? Their life ceased, and then, rising from the grave, DeCeased? I don't get it. As Dr. Nick said "You mean, inflammible means flammible? What a country."

Rough-cut Gems

Amazing mountains rise in the distance. Moving up the windy road, the bus eeks it's way between newly erected rock-slide barriers, and into a deep gorge. The blue-green water of the roadside tarns seem almost as surreal as the cliffs and rock formations. After some time the pass widens, and eventually the rolling hills give way to fertile plain, ringed with more rocky chains futher in the distance.

Whiz. Something odd about that roadside home. Whiz. Another, this time eyes are prepped to focus on the bullet riddled, roofless pile of bricks. Not a home; once a home.

And such is the bittersweet welcome to Bosnia, a land of contrasts, if there ever was one.

I don't think I've ever heard anyone extol the virtues of the natural Balkan landscape, so I was in a state of awe as our bus headed through those gorges. Perhaps it is testimony to their beauty, or perhaps to my stupidity, but I didn't even think of getting photos until we were just at the end of the canyon. Stupid me.

Of course, the scars were something I had expected. There were tons of ruins around Mostar, and there was also a large swath of Sarajevo that was still ruins. This, however, is in a completely seperate area of the town, and I have no intention of tramping about to find them again. Something about the several hundred thousand land-mines and other unexploded ordinance keeps me from hiking into abandoned areas. Even my Lonely Planet, which usually offers a realistic view of travel dangers, has a big boxed section warning to "regard every centimeter of ground as suspicious". So yeah, I'm paranoid.

But can this detract from the beauty of Sarajevo? It's an amazing town, but it's just tough to wrap my head around. Big beautiful hills bump up through and around the city, but these were the same hills from which Serb snipers were picking off kids in the street. Huge minarets pop out from whatever section of city you eye, but, so do over-packed graveyards. I was listening to a man describing how the tunnel that terminated under his home was the only link where food, refugees, and weapons could be moved into or out of Sarajevo; at times he was close to tears. A few minutes later, the Shakira ringtone of his phone went off, and he was laughing it up with a friend on the line.

It's tough to wrap my head around. Still, I love this place. Perhaps I'm a sucker for history, or for mountains, or for the exotic fruit, but I feel a great affection for this town. I'm headquartered in a hostel right by the big Turkish bazaar section, on a corner where the olive jeeps full of European peacekeepers rumble by regularly. The Turkish coffee is cheap, and so is the food, with only a few thousand varieties of dish to choose from. The Bosnians smile and laugh freely, and are never hesitant to explain how tolerant and diverse Bosnia Hercegovina is. It's a mixture that has to be felt.

So, I've been chatting it up with Bosnians and travelers, sampling the cuisine, going on history tours, and taking plenty of strolls. Paranoid, paranoid strolls.
I suppose I can't put much more down, since I need a bit of time to polish thoughts before they can come out shining. But for all it's nicks and flaws, this place is still a gem.

Ciao.





And a few more Dubrovnik shots:

Dubrovnik

Hey folks,

Well, I found an upload point, but I have six minutes left, so this might be brief. I did add a few pics to the previous two posts, so check those out.

I got on that big ol' boat, yesterday, and was quite content with what I found. Truth is, I had no idea what 'Deck passage' meant, so I had a bad feeling I'd be out on a metal observation deck all night. I was delightfully surprised to find a big, carpeted room where I could crash! Then, a bunch of old fogarts also began raising hell and moaning to anyone within earshot. It seems they didn't know what deck passage was, either. Anyhow, long boat ride (20hrs), but I started reading Mr. Montaigne's homework assignments, worked on my Russian handwriting, and passed some time with a few Brits. I traded Huck Finn for Life of Pi, too, so I was just peachy.

So after a beautiful cruise down the Dalmatian coast, I got into Dubrovnik. It got dark pretty quickly after I found a room, so I'll have to get up more pics later, but this little town is just gorgeous. White marble streets, huge city walls, and only a few thousand pockmarks from when the Serbs decided to bomb the hell out of this poor town. The holes are all filled by now, but it's still sad to see.


The hostel was filled (by the thousands of LP disciples making the pilgrimage), but I found a room nearby. It seems everybody and their mother is renting out spare rooms to the rich tourists, and the scene getting off the boat was unreal. The mass of people trying to get to the new arrivals must have equaled to the mass trying to get on those last choppers out of Saigon. Anyhow, Mamma Maria nearly died when I didn't try to haggle her down from eight dollars. She'll eat well tonight, I hope.

So, I've gotta go, but I'll get back with some more pics soon.


Stay frosty.

Europe: By land, sea, and bench.

Hah, sorry for that last post. It seems every time I sit down to make a post, crazy Italians burst in and start jumping around. Actually, this time it was Aussies who were doing the distraction, spouting obnoxious crap that made me grind my teeth. It's odd; for all the Ugly Aussies, and Ugly Germans, and Ugly CANADIANS I've met, haven't come across any American jackasses. Not even Chris Pontius/Party Boy in Tokyo.

Well, it's been a little game working to get to Dubrovnik. Yesterday I got into Ljubljana, Slovenia, which was quite a charming little town. Its old town has some neat bridges, a big pink church, and a huge hill with a castle on top. Made for a fun afternoon just cruising around. I eventually found some path to the top of the hill, and the views were gorgeous. Long rays of afternoon sun were piercing a light layer of mist rising from the nearby forests, and the orange glow lit up the ranks of town, hill, mountain, and finally, off in the distance, huge friggin' alps.

*I'd love to put some pictures up, but ever since I started that, I've been posting rather infrequently. It is, of course, quite difficult to find a cheap connection with USB ports and picture software, so the pics will come when they come.
[Update 9.17.05- Enjoy]

Anyhow, it was then a dinner of Krvavica, a Slovenian blood sausage, with sauerkraut and (julian? julianned?) potatoes. Quite tasty, and accompanied by two glasses of a bold red, this all came to 6euro.

My bus to Rijeka was scheduled for 0630, so I thought it might be risky to get a hostel, since I always oversleep in a bed. So, I saw some bellwethers at the train station, and set up there for the evening. I say bellwethers, since "homeless" is a sad and perhaps misleading title, but if I see some sleeping on benches, it means I probably won't be bothered by rent-a-cops. So, with an inflatable pillow, warm sleeping bag, and valuables locked up in the station, I read for a while, and chatted with another BW before getting some shuteye. Quite a nice chap, though he spoke no English and I no Slovene, so it was more like charades. Bought him a big breakfast for $1.60. I think that hitch-hiking must have been like this way back when; a neat, cheap travel alternative, before it was eventually spoiled by a few nutcases. So if any nutcases are reading this, please don't go bagging it.

So now I'm in Rijeka, waiting for a ferry to Dubrovnik that leaves at 2000. It's a funny little harbour town, this, and pretty as it is, there isn't much to do or see. I may run out of paperbacks if I don't find a book exchange soon, though I did trade the German History text for a copy of Dumas' MC-Count. That may last me a while.

I don't think there will be much hiking any time soon; the land mine hazard is still rather serious, and I'd rather not take stupid risks. Just makes me miss Etown more, since upstate NY really is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Anyone at home, do go for a hike, walk, or ride for me.

I'm off to ask some Croats about their favorite Serbian Football players. More soon (if I still have fingers).

The Beautiful Blue Danube...

Is neither Beautiful nor Blue. I'll forgive it though, simply because it runs through a little gem of a town that goes by the name of Budapest.

Yeah, I guess I've been truckin' it over the past few days; I spent just a bit of time in Vienna, cruising around the palaces, Plague Columns, and chowing on a few pastries. Also, Wiener Schnitzel is, in my opinion, no more special than regular schnitzel. Anyhow, saw a whole bunch of the city sights, but there weren't any good concerts on, so it was off to the next stop for me.




That next stop was Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia, and a 3euro trip from Vienna. I was thrilled to see the countryside, but the city wasn't too much in my opinion. I guess I was just anxious to head to the next stop, BUDAPEST!

So I had no idea what to expect from Hungary. I guess I was therefore suprised by how cosmo the city and residents are, but the accomodation is still a weak sector. I stopped by every hostel in the city, all of which were full, before I finally sat down to "wait" until a space opened up. And who better to keep me company? Why, a little volume of Bram Stoker's! So yeah, sitting on a bench late at night, in the middle of Hungary, reading Dracula.... I jumped a foot when some dog started howling off in an alley. Eventually I fell asleep, apparently with the book visible, since a young Magyar decided it might be funny to wake me up with a "bluuahh!"

I also bought new pants today.

The Hungarians really know how to spice food, and it seems any culinary ill can be cured with more paprika. I'd list all the gastronomic delights, but I can't hear myself think at the time being. Apologies for the writing.

I'm off to Ljubljana tomorrow morning, and likely Croatia soon after that.

Keep on truckin' folks.



P.S. I bought new pants because the old ones had so many holes. What'd you think?

The Alps

Wow. It's like I died and went to heaven. A heaven that drains your bank account in four days. .


Sure, some Russian or Quebecois turds may have also had a hand in that, but I live and I learn. Now Switzerland, there's an amazing irony, since the country mixes the longing to stay there forever with the urge to flee for all that is holy. Not even Bierstadt could prepare me for the scenery. Then again, lunch carries a price-tag which would make one of Al's originals seem a bargain.

Since a trip to Zermatt would be 220euro, I bought an unlimited rail pass in Switzerland for half that, and tooled around for four days. After an evening in Zurich, I went down to Interlaken, Zermatt, Lugano, past Lake Como, through Liechtenstein (40 minutes and I was bored), and back to Zurich. Four full days.

Interlaken was just amazing, and I had great weather there. What better than staring at the Alps under some warm rays? Why, riding up those mountains on a bike! So I rented a bike for the day, and started up, eventually reaching Gimmewald. After I got to the top and realized how incredibly difficult the climb was, I found a map that showed Gimmewald at 4600ft and halfway to the Italian border. So, yeah that was the hardest (and most rewarding) ride of my life.

I went down to Zermatt the following day, and the weather was a bit drizzly. When I woke up next morn, however, the sun was struggling to clear up some of the moisture. After I spent much of the morning rooting for the Matterhorn, victory was hers, as she came slicing through the thick clouds trying to wrap her up. Just amazing. Someday, should I have the income, I think taking up mountaineering would be a terrific way to throw away some money. Makes a lot more sense than a Ferrari.

Lugano and Lake Como were also quite beautiful, and prices were a bit more Italian than Swiss (a plus). I now have an appreciation for safari photographers, after trying to focus, frame shots, and beat window glare as our bus rode along winding roads at 50mph. Wait, is there such a job as a safari photographer? Maybe I just made that up.

Liechtenstein, approximately the size of my backyard, was cute enough. I bought a patch. I also took a picture. That was about it. I wandered around the tiny capital for a couple minutes; nothing. What I really don't get is the license plates on cars, since they still have seven digits, though two would likely do just as well. I have a feeling I could address a letter to 'Bob. Liechtenstein.' and get a response from him. Anyhow.

I never mention the rest of the Bavarian leg, which was indeed very cool. Munich is home to BMW, effeminate lion statues, and great beer, as well as bratwurst, Nazism, sightings of fat men in Lederhosen, and a few other things that could kill you. I got a sampling platter. The BMW museum is being completely rebuilt, though the mini-museum they have up was cool enough. I also took a free walking tour, led by a Duke grad. Unfortunately, he reinforced the stereotype of English majors working for tips. Nice guy though. Lastly, the beer was very, very good, and 5euro bought 'eine Mass'. A litre stein of beer is a sight to behold.

In my travels, and dealings with Germans, many have taken offense should I think them Bavarians (I now know Stuttgart is not in Bavaria). I guess I'm starting to understand this. Bavaria is a big southern state with an obesity problem. People there dress funny and have funny accents. There is an overt, ingrained superiority complex. Religion is big, and the conservative political climate once gave rise to a backwards leader who eventually led the entire nation into decline through his invasion of weaker states.

Yeah, I would be pretty steamed if someone mistook me for a Texan.

But as for now, I'm in Vienna. I haven't seen too much yet, other than some gorgeous buildings and parks, and bathrooms filled with incredibly racist, anti-Semitict graffiti It's funny to see it scrawled in full paragraphs, though. It's as if somebody copied their Thesis from Bob Jones University up there. Perhaps I should go see more of the city.

C'mon back, now, y'hurr?

P.S. I got the refund stamp.

An Excerpt from "Slightly Overcrowded World: Prague"

"Hello again, adventurers! Slightly Overcrowded World (SL.O.W.) is back again, with yet another guide for our SL.O.W. readers out there. Before we begin, some general tips to ensure you get the most out of this fine city.

°First, be sure to wear that 'Prague Drinking Team' shirt you bought last night. You're certainly never going to wear it at home, and it is a courteous reminder to others not to be your friend.

°While referring to the locals around you, be sure to refer to them as 'Chechans'. Occasionally, wish them luck on their future independence from Russia. Be active in this Satin Revloution!

°Don't forget to hassle the Mime in the main square. After all, once we get rid of this last holdout of the dying art, we'll finally see nothing but those HILARIOUS gold-painted "Look, I'm a statue!" guys.

***Extra points for Stag parties who repeatedly flick off the mime's hat with toy light sabers. Those Mime tears sure will make you feel like a man!***

°Be sure to change money with men who approach you on the street.

°Finally, when taking some night-landscape photos with your new $2000 camera, be sure to use the flash. This is the mark of a true pro."

*******************************************************************************

Okay, so maybe that last one is just a bit of jealousy. It would be nice to have one of those DSLRs, but this Z5 is actually pretty great. I'll add a bunch of shots at the bottom of the page.

Prague is, despite the crowds, pretty fun. The views from the Charles Bridge or from atop the Prague castle are worth a gasp or two. I'm undecided as to the feel of the city, since I'm not sure there is any industry other than tourism (and it's auxiliaries). For example, all the jazz bands that fill clubs at night seem to spill out onto the squares and bridges for some practice in the daytime. But then we have tons of awful street performers competing for change. The city has thousands of trinket shops lining streets, which can be a sad sight. But then the "other" vendors come out after sundown, and it's a good laugh to hear the "Weed, speed, whatever you need!" chants. I guess once I accepted the fact that this is Prague, I started to appreciate the benefits of touristdom.

The city does feel completely different in daytime and night-time. Aside from the traits which I've hinted at, there's also a teriffic pub and club scene, and thousands milling about to join up with. The beer is also another plus. Whereas the Czech Budweiser isn't much better than the Busch Bud, Pilsner Urquell is simply delicious. This is coming from someone who isn't a beer fan. This is the original brew invented in Plzen in 1842, and yes, this is the original Pilsner.

So, I'm very glad to have seen Prague, though I'm just as psyched to be moving South. I got into Munich today, albeit with an hour of sleep (hence the dull, short post). Right off the bat I was served Schweinsbraten (Pork and sauerkraut) by a lady wearing the full Bavarian garb. I had to pass at the litre of beer. Somehow, I have a feeling I'll enjoy this town.









Stick around.