Day 312: Neno’s Free Walking Tour & The Sarajevo Tunnel

We were in Sarajevo smack in the middle of Ramadan. While native Muslims were fasting and praying, we were going on another walking tour and immersing ourselves in Sarajevo trying to learn even more about the city and its people’s history here. We decided to check out Neno’s Free Walking Tour– one that was led by one person (instead of the usual independent volunteer organization that provides this service in cities around Europe) hoping that we would learn even more or be able to fill in the blanks from our first tour in Sarajevo. Afterwards, we headed a little bit out of town to explore the Sarajevo Tunnel that was used during the siege to link Sarajevo with the Bosnian territory on the other side of the airport. It was a busy day, to say the least!

We thought we had failed making the tour on time. We were ten minutes late, and no one was to be seen at the National Theatre where we were told to meet. We lingered for twenty minutes or so while Andrew ran down the river to see if he could spot a small group walking along in a group. He came back with nothing. We gave up and started walking towards the tram to go out to the tunnel when we spotted a group on the other side of the building. Obviously the four of us aren’t the smartest… When in doubt, in the future, walk around the building instead of up and down the street. (Duh, right?)

We were able to join the tour, but we think we missed the 30 minute or so history lesson at the beginning that we were all most interested in. Leanne and I joked around wondering how we could ask Neno if he could repeat everything he had just said. We didn’t, but were delighted when the tour immediately veered in a different direction than our previous tour. One of the first stops was at the busting market that was hit with a mortar bomb in February of 1994 killing 66 and injuring 200. It was devastating to say the least. Aside from learning about this terrible incident, Neno provided pictures of what was sold in the market during the siege and claimed that the market wasn’t as pretty (nor as fresh) as it is today. He talked about the canned meat that was sold and how after the war, one woman opened a can up and set it down for her cat (or maybe it was a dog?) to eat and the poor thing sniffed at it and refused to eat it. He also told us how there wasn’t any chocolate or candy available, so he would sneak sugar into his pocket as a child and lick his fingers and dip them into his pocket for some sugar. He admitted to still having a sweet tooth and dipping sugar cubes in his coffee and popping them in his mouth nowadays. I wanted to relate my passion for mixing sugar into the foamy part of my lattes and enjoying that before drinking the coffee below.

We walked past another Sarajevo Rose, and he told another story about how someone he knew came home one evening after walking through town wearing some extra wide leg pants. When she arrived home, she discovered holes in her pants from sniper shots. My eyes grew big. Can you even imagine? He said that despite the war, and the siege especially, his mother refused to stay home and hide, saying she would go crazy if she didn’t go into town to work. She walked to/from town for 45 minutes or maybe an hour each day. And remember, the city is basically surrounded by mountains with snipers scattered around, shooting into the city day in and day out. One woman piped up;

“I’m a mother… What made your mother decide to keep you all here? Why didn’t she take everyone out?”

Neno responded that his mother always thought the war would end. It would only last a month more… She would say.

In case you’re unfamiliar with the length of the siege, it lasted three years.

After our stop around another Sarajevo Rose, we walked into Sacred Heart Cathedral, the same we saw on the other tour. Only today, a nun was taking care of some ironing in the front of the church.

Another (equally exciting) chess match was on in the park. We all lingered, again, enthralled by the intensity of the game and how interested all of the men gathered were in the game going on.

We stepped into the Cathedral Church of the Nativity of the Theotokos (The Orthodox Church) and as there wasn’t a ceremony going on, we were free to walk in a bit closer and take more pictures.

I debated titling this post “How to NOT be obnoxious on a Tour” because we were unfortunately graced with the presence of two girls who were exactly that. Annoying. You might notice them in the video above, because chances are they are in every frame. I had to get creative shooting footage without them standing in front of me. I also started getting a bit more forward, asking them if they could move out of the way. I’m pretty sure most people know how to act on a tour, but in case you’re unfamiliar with tour group etiquette, here are a few tips for you:

1. Don’t stand in front of the tour guide at every stop. There are other people on the tour, and they might want to see the tour guide’s face every once and awhile.

2. Take your picture, and move out of the way, so others on the tour can take a picture as well. If you want to take more pictures, if you want to get different angles, if you just can’t get the right perspective, then let others go first.

3. When the tour guide holds up a picture for everyone to see, don’t stand in front of the 8×10 laminated picture preventing all 20 others on the tour from seeing it. And if you absolutely need to have a picture of that picture, then ask for it when the tour guide is finished talking about it!

4. When the guide is talking about what life was like during the war, don’t ask him “What was that like for you?” after he just finished explaining the answer to your question. Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You have a notebook out, you’re taking notes. What on earth were you doing?

5. When someone (me) is clearly waiting for you to move so she can take a picture, MOVE! Why on earth are you standing there looking at me, with my camera in front of my face, ready to take a picture? I don’t want a picture of you! I want a picture of the beautiful building you are standing in front of and NOT even looking at!

6. And so help me if you are going to introduce yourself to others as a photographer (yea, I overheard you talking to the Australian whose yacht is “stuck” in Croatia) don’t steal my shot. I’m not talking about taking the same pictures that everyone takes on a tour of the Sarajevo Roses or the facades of churches or the men playing chess. I’m talking about when I go out of my way to practically lay down on the floor of a church and then I see you see me and then you do the same thing. If you really are a photographer, you would know that any other photographer would NOT be cool with that. And I don’t even introduce myself as a photographer, even though clearly, I take a lot of pictures.

I know, you’re probably like, ‘Woah, Liz. Calm down!’ And really, I told myself the same, until Leanne confirmed how ridiculously unaware these two girls were. I tried to linger towards the back of the group, thinking surely that would help. It didn’t. I debated pulling them aside, much like a mother would do to her own children and tell them to stop being so annoying. Instead, I rolled my eyes at myself, at my impatience, and tried to find them entertaining instead of annoying. That is, until the (same) one purposely stopped, waiting for me to move, and then started walking back to where I was standing to take the exact same picture.

“I’m a witch.” I whispered to Leanne as I caught up to them after taking the picture below. (Only I might have used a different word)

“I asked her if she was going to take the same picture I just took, and told her I didn’t like when other ‘photographers’ take the exact same shot that I took.” I explained, and Leanne said that she had worried on our safari that I was annoyed with her for doing the same. I rolled my eyes at her and explained that’s different.

“Ohmigod! We were in the same jeep! That’s totally different! It’s animals. On a safari! Of course we’re going to take the same pictures! You weren’t on a walking tour waiting behind me to see which pictures I was going to take when others weren’t around and then take the same one!” I tried to explain myself, but later realized I probably sounded like a witch regardless.

Leanne teased me for the rest of the afternoon that she was going to take the same pictures or that she was going to take a picture too, when I had my camera ready. I figured, she didn’t think I was too big of a ‘witch’ if she was able to tease me about it.

In other ‘obnoxious photo news’ this Copper Street had tons of signs up that you couldn’t take photos or else had to pay the artisan who was hammering away at the metal first. I settled on these two shots and shrugged, not interested in taking any photos of the artisans or even buying anything if you had to simply pay to take a picture!

After a quick local lunch, we made our way out of the center towards the Sarajevo Tunnel and Museum. The family who owned the house during the siege, and today runs the museum despite the government wanting to take over. It’s pretty much just like that, rolling up to a house in the country and then going around the back where you watch a short film that’s mostly a montage of bombings in the city, the building of the tunnel, and then its use during the siege.

The indoor museum consisted of different rooms full of mortar shells, army uniforms, American army food rations, and a recreation of a section of the tunnel. There was also a photo wall displaying famous actors and politicians who have visited the tunnel.

The entrance of the tunnel remains open and visitors are able to walk a short length that still remains intact. I didn’t see any information about what happened to the rest of the tunnel. I’m assuming it has been closed and/or filled in.

It was a little too short for Andrew. I couldn’t stand up straight inside, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. Granted, we weren’t walking through it in the middle of a war, through rain and murky water below and exposed electrical lines above. It reminded me of being in a more advanced version of the Cu Chi Tunnels in Vietnam.

Afterwards, we all headed to the train and bus stations to check about tickets out of Sarajevo the next day. I was continually intrigued by the visible scars on the buildings from the war. In Korea, I would always think in the back of my mind how much the older people have lived through, how much they had seen, and I wondered what it was like for them to see the change. Here, in Sarajevo, those thoughts pretty much apply to anyone over the age of 10.

Day 311: Remember Srebrenica

Perhaps you noticed in some of the pictures of the Old Bridge in Mostar, there was a banner that read “Do Not Forget Srebrenica.” If you’re not familiar with The Srebrenica Massacre (in all honesty, I wasn’t before our arrival to Bosnia and Herzegovina) get ready for the briefest of brief history lessons: It was the July 1995 mass genocide of more than 8,000 Bosnian Muslims (mostly men and boys) in and around the small town of Srebrenica by the Republika Srpska army, commanded by General Ratko Mladić. The town of Srebrenica was supposed to be a safe area under protection by the United Nations, and witnessed an influx of refugees during the war from those seeking a safe haven. Unfortunately, the town was captured by the Repbulika Srpska and the 400 UN peacekeepers were able to leave before/during? the genocide that began to take place. This incident is a huge scar on the UN’s history. At first they denied that it had happened, and then with the discovery of mass burial sites, it was apparent justice had been lacking. I’m sure I’m leaving a lot of information out. The incident is overwhelming, to say the least, and being not only in Bosnia and Herzegovina, but in the Galerija 11/07/95 on the anniversary was moving.

The gallery was smaller than I thought it would be, but there were computers set up with multimedia programs that spelled out the chain of events in an incredibly detailed and informative way. And we were fortunate to have a really great guided tour, great, again, not in the exciting kind of way, but in the this-girl-knows-her-shit kinda way. Saliha (pictured on the right above with her friend and colleague at the Gallery) was incredibly informative and passionate about the events that took place and the events relating to the trials and the UN taking place today. I felt one tiny step closer to having a better understanding of what happened during the Bosnian War than I did before setting foot in the gallery. I thanked her afterwards and asked if I could take her picture (as pictures within the gallery weren’t allowed). She was kind enough to oblige. Thanks again for everything, Saliha!

We met up with Josh and Leanne afterwards for lunch, and then Andrew and I wandered around the downtown old town area while they went on the tour we did the day before. It was a low key day, one that we all appreciated, that and each other’s company. Have I mentioned how lovely it is to feel like we have friends again on this long journey around the world?

Day 310: If only a Sarajevo Rose was as sweet as it sounds…

We went on another free walking tour. This time in Sarajevo. As always, the tour proved to be educational and a great way to wrap our heads around the latest city we rolled into. I say ‘educational’ because I’m fairly positive I’m learning (and hopefully retaining) way more information than I ever did in any history class. I remember seeing Sarajevo in the news a LOT when I was young, but I had no connection to it, and no understanding of not only what was going on, but why I should concern myself with the conflict. When you find yourself walking through the streets of Sarajevo and seeing all of the bullet holes in the buildings and then you’re given an explanation of the ‘Sarajevo Rose’ you feel like a fool for not being more aware with what was going on in the world when you were younger. At least that’s how I felt as I stood in front of a Sarajevo Rose on our walking tour du jour. So what is it? Wikipedia rather beautifully defines it as “a concrete scar caused by a mortar shell’s explosion that was later filled with red resin.” Our guide explained that the Sarajevo Roses are filled in as a memorial to those who were killed by a mortar shell during the Bosnian War.

Throughout the tour, we learned all about the Ottoman Empire’s influence, the start of World War I, and bits and pieces of the Bosnian War. It was a lot. So much that I kept having to ask Andrew stupid questions like: “Ok, wait, which one was World War I?” “Who was shot?” and “Who was bombing Sarajevo?”  “But WHY Sarajevo?!” because my head was so full. of. history. All through the Balkans, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around the fall of Yugoslavia and keeping track of who was with who and who was against who… Before the Balkans, it was trying to understand Greek Mythology. Before Greek Mythology, it was the rise and fall of religions in Turkey. Before Turkey, it was apartheid in South Africa. My list of books to read is growing longer and longer. If I can remember just a teensy bit of all of this information we’re trying to absorb on a daily basis, it’ll be a success! (Educationally, that is. Obviously it’s already a success on so many other levels.) If my memory proves unsuccessful, at least the past ten months have been cheaper than one year of tuition at my alma mater!

During our stop at this Orthodox Church, a ceremony was going on, of what we weren’t told, regardless, the chanting was beautiful to listen to.

“Who told them there were two ‘t’s’ in Kentucky?” I grumbled to Andrew as we passed by the local KFC, I mean VFC?

“Probably someone from Kentucky.” Andrew snarked.

My favorite part of the tour was arriving in the park to quite the kerfuffle over a heated game of chess. These men were not messing around. Our guide told us that legend has it if you lose the last game of the day, you have to set up the pieces at seven o’clock the next morning. He asked his uncle or father (I forget which) if this was true, but was told that “they’ve never lost… so they don’t know!”

The eternal flame (just down the street from the park above) is a memorial to those who have died in the Second World War in Bosnia. Our guide told us that one day, the flame was not so eternal (it had gone out during a storm the night before). A tourist, I think on a walking tour, asked his guide if there was still gas coming out, and then walked up to it and re-lit the flame. He also burned his arm (to what degree, I’m not sure) in the process.

We ended our tour in a park that held the Memorial to Murdered Sarajevo children during the siege of the city from 1992 to 1995. The sculpture represents a mother protecting her child. Around the base, made from melted bombshell cases, are children’s footprints, friends of those who died during the siege. Sad. That’s all I have to say. Even sadder was when our guide talked about the ‘Sarajevo Red Line.’ It was a memorial of the 11,541 killed during the Bosnian war. 11,541 empty red chairs were arranged down the street that passed in front of this sculpture dedicated to the children on April 6, 2012. Just last year. Our guide said it was a sight to see, and it was rather difficult to do the walking tour during the installation because it was simply so moving to have a visual of all that Bosnia had lost during the war.

On a much (much) lighter note, after the tour, we waited for Josh and Leanne to get into town! Our fifth country together, we were excited to see them, and share an apartment with them again! Excited, yes, but again, it was driven home how much they ‘get it’ as in this whole trip. We were all tired, and despite just arriving into a new city that afternoon (or evening) the best part of meeting up with friends who ‘get it’, was that they readily agreed to a low key movie night before passing out in an attempt to get some rest before a busy day tomorrow.

Day 307: Walking the walls of Dubrovnik

Walking the walls of Dubrovnik is the number one thing to do. I remembered loving it a few years ago, but also being very (very very) hot when I went in the middle of the afternoon. We decided to go as late as we could to avoid the heat and the wave of other tourists. It’s supposed to take roughly an hour to walk the walls around the entire city. We tend to dawdle. We sit. We people watch. We take pictures. We talk (or, I talk and Andrew pretends to listen). It took us nearly two hours, but that was also considering we got caught in a downpour and had to wait out the rain as I didn’t want my camera (and my fancy lens) to get soaked. The price to get on the walls has gone up in the past few years, and might make someone on a budget cringe… but it’s worth it, and you won’t regret the leisurely stroll, the views, or the pictures you’ll have afterwards!

Our thirty minute walk to the old town was not without some beautiful scenes along the way. This fancy gated in pillar lined road caught our eye, we think it was to a university or a library of some sort. Then what looked to be an average residence also boasted a pillar lined walkway. We made the executive decision that our house shall also have a pillar lined walkway in the future. Maybe not the one we plan on finding in Brooklyn next year, but the one after that?

While waiting for the sun to go down a little more before we headed up to climb the walls, we strolled through more back alleyways. Some postcards in a shop doorway caught my eye. I ducked in and found out the shop was a relocated/former gallery (Galerija Sebastian Atlas Dubrovnik). I keep trying to buy smaller art (I have too much art for a girl without walls as it is) and settled on a postcard print of a painting by Zvonimir Lončarić.

We made our way up to the walls, hoping most of the ‘cruisers’ were making their way back onto their ship(s). It wasn’t as crowded as I thought it would be, but still a lot more crowded than it was when I walked the walls with my friend, Jess a few years ago.

The view of the city was beautiful, so I’ll let the pictures (the many, many pictures taken of similar rooftop scenery) speak for themselves:

Aren’t the little boys ready to ring the bell cute? There were lots of bells on the rooftops actually, and we wondered why. My guess was that they were used to warn other houses of danger, like a fire, perhaps?

Not even a third of the way around the city, we heard thunder in the distance. We could see the rain coming down further down the coast and hoped that it was moving in a direction that would magically avoid us on the walls. You can’t have a rainbow without some rain though, and a faint one appeared over the sea.

Thankfully, the walls above (and around) the city weren’t as crowded as the streets within. But the rain was moving towards us, and with about half of the walls to go, we weren’t sure we were going to be able to avoid it.

And then it poured. I tucked my camera under my arm and we stood under an overhang until the heaviest part passed. All of the sidewalk cafes cleared out and I had to tiptoe on the slick stones so I wouldn’t fall. We didn’t have too much left to go, and made it in time to meet Josh and Leanne and two of their friends visiting from ‘merica for dinner at the cafe at the foot of the mini Spanish steps.

We thought the prices were reasonable when we looked at the menu the day before. We didn’t take note of the price of beer. (Curses on our forgetfulness! For this is typically the best way to figure out if a restaurant is over-priced or not… knowing roughly how much a beer should cost.) In Kotor (Montenegro), an expensive beer within the walls was a little more than two euros. Usually at a store, a beer costs somewhere around 2-3 euros. We found out in Dubrovnik, an expensive beer within the walls was six whole euros.

I know, you might be thinking that six euros for a beer isn’t sooo bad… Especially if you’re on a short vacation (and you have a job that you receive a check from every other week). But again, when you’re traveling around the world for months on end… when you have ordered a beer for as little as $.25 in previous countries… it simply takes away from the experience a bit. Travel shouldn’t be tainted by expensive food and drink. I don’t foresee Dubrovnik losing visitors anytime soon. It’s a beautiful (stunning, gorgeous, lovely) city. But I do foresee Dubrovnik losing backpackers, students and/or budget travelers. I couldn’t have agreed more with what the cafe owner said the night before about needing a week to really see and appreciate Dubrovnik, but I’d rather spend my money elsewhere if it’s not going to get me very far in this beautiful walled-in city…

Before the end of the night, we took turns playing scenario (it made up for the six euro beers): 

Day 305: Climbing the fortifications of Kotor

Kotor is lovely. It’s even more lovely after the daily cruise ship departs in the afternoon. We decided to wait until it was gone before we climbed up to the top of the fortifications of Kotor. You know how to tell you’ve been traveling for awhile? When you become more mouthy towards the person(s) charging an entrance fee for something you weren’t expecting to be charged for.

“Is this for real, or did you just put this table here and start collecting money?” Andrew asked the woman sitting behind a table, under an umbrella with what appeared to be a fan mounted on the outside of her house blowing warm air over her.

She was less than impressed. As were we, when an overly enthusiastic tourist informed us “It’s not so expensive, and it’s totally worth the view.”

I’m fairly positive there was a collective rolling of the eyes from me, Andrew, Josh, and Leanne. Not that we didn’t believe the view would be worth it, but at his enthusiasm over us paying a fee. A fee that might be small to him, but to us, after traveling for 10-16 months… Well, let’s just say they add up. We paid, and then started climbing the 1,350 stairs up. in flip flops. with a bum heel, still, because I have yet to reunite with my Nikes (currently awaiting my arrival in England).

Along the way up, we heard a North American accent judge us all for our choice of shoes. (Three of us were wearing flip flops.) I didn’t realize she was talking about us until Leanne laughed about it. Had I known she was talking about us, I would have talked in an equally loud voice so she could have easily overheard my conversation. I would have elaborated (loudly) about my sheer stupidity for keeping the wrong pair of ‘gym shoes’ (barefoot water shoes) instead of my Nike running shoes. And how if it were not for being over budget on my trip around the world, I would have gladly bought shoes that other judgmental tourists might approve of.

I love rooftops like these. Why can’t we have similar pretty tiled roofs in Kentucky? There’s so much more character to them than shingles!

Before Andrew and I got to the top (my heel tends to slow us down) Josh peeked his head out of an opening in the fortification from above, and waved, reminding Andrew of the Monty Python and the Holy Grail. They laughed and Josh admitted to channeling the movie.

On our way down, I introduced ‘Scenario’ to Josh and Leanne. ‘Scenario’ (in case I haven’t explained it before, or you’re new to the blog) is a game that my friend, Lindsay taught me where you give fun/funny scenarios instead of the usual “Say cheese!” before taking a picture. Josh’s first scenario: He just walked in on Andrew trying on my delicates in our shared apartment.

Josh wanted to practice giving a scenario. It was something along the lines of someone being extra smelly. I was pointing to Andrew.

Day 304: Montenegro, What country is that in?

Today was my sister’s birthday! (Yay! Happy Birthday Gina!) So, I of course, spent most of the day reminding myself to call her and NOT to forget. This can sometimes be a process. When we were in Korea, it was always easy to know what time I could call someone stateside. Now that we are jumping time zones so often, it can be difficult. There are at least four different times on my computer so I can keep track of what time it is where. I called. I missed her. She emailed. I called again.

“So where are you now?” She asked.

“Montenegro.” I told her.

“What country is that in?”

“It is the country.” I confirmed, relieved when she cracked up at herself.

“Oh! Well where is it?”

“You know how there is a sea on the right side of Italy ? (I explained, as if she were looking at a map) It’s on the other side of that sea, the Adriatic.”

“So above Greece?”

“Yea, above Greece.”

“Ok, I know where you are now.”

It seems as though Montenegro has been blowing up lately on the tourist circuit. Staying inside the walls of Kotor Stari Grad (Old City) we were getting used to the amount of tourists rolling in off of their giant cruise ship for the day, flooding the little city, walking around in big groups- too big to walk together through some of the narrow passageways. We decided to get out of dodge and headed up the coast to see some of the other smaller towns along the Bay of Kotor. First, we headed to Risan, the oldest settlement on the bay:

Risan was quiet and without any other tourists, which was a nice change. But there wasn’t much to do… Except, perhaps to see the Roman mosaics. They are ancient, and I get that, but I’m a bigger fan of the Ottoman mosaics myself.

In the middle of the bay, Our Lady of the Rocks Church sits on a man-made island of rocks and sunken ships full of rocks. The other islet holds the Saint George Benedictine monastery and apparently a cemetery for old nobility around Kotor Bay. We didn’t go to either, but instead admired from afar. We mostly walked along the seaside through Perast. It, too, was quiet. A few other tourists roamed the street, but not many, and even fewer people roamed the streets when it started raining.

Day 303: Overcoming the 10 Month Travel Slump

We woke up in beautiful Kotor, Montenegro. After driving through a buzzing Budva the night before, we were grateful we were staying down the coast inside the walls of a slightly smaller, and much less crowded version of Dubrovnik. After lucking out meeting Vladimir and Marija in Belgrade, and starting to break out of the ‘slump,’ both Andrew and I were looking forward to reuniting with our ‘Round the World’ travel buddies, Josh and Leanne. (We went on safari together in Tanzania, and then met up again in Turkey just in case you forgot.) Meeting up with friends while we’re traveling is one thing. Making new friends on our travels is another, wonderful thing. But meeting up with friends, who are also on a trip around the world, in country #3 is a whole new amazing ballgame. Because not only do we get to feel like we really do have friends, but we have friends who get it. Who get what it’s like to travel around the world. Who get that it’s amazing, but sometimes hard. Who get the 10 Month Travel Slump. Even when you wake up to a beautiful city in a brand new country that you can’t wait to explore.

We had a few (ok, many) heart to hearts. We agreed how strange it is to travel around the world but at times feel like we’re missing out on so much back ‘home.’ How annoying our schedules are and how much our diet changes. How wonderful a good salad can be. How we’re tired a LOT of the time. How annoying expensive countries are after traveling through particularly inexpensive ones. Leanne and I totally related to each other being absolutely sick of our clothes. You know that feeling when you open your closet (full of clothes) and groan how you have nothing to wear? Imagine only having a backpack. Uh… yea… I don’t think I’ll ever complain about a closet full of clothes again.

We laughed about how weekends can be the worst. No one emails us on the weekends. If we were home, and following a ‘normal’ schedule, we wouldn’t even notice, but while traveling, days of the week aren’t exactly kept track of. If I wake up to no new messages, chances are it’s a Saturday. We joked about when the best time to put a status up on Facebook is. Monday mornings. That’s when we’re most likely to get some love from everyone we miss talking to or seeing on a regular basis. We all agreed, probably no one reads our blogs, wondered why no one comments, and promised each other we would comment on each other’s just to make each other feel better. Maybe we shouldn’t be hurt when we don’t hear from close friends, but we sometimes are. This led to something of a debate whether or not we will have the same relationships we had when we left.

They gave us an unintentional pep talk (mostly just by understanding the slump) about the trip. They revealed they went through their own 10 month travel slump, but then they showed us why we’re all doing this crazy, amazing adventure, by a wonderful montage they made of their trip (so far). Andrew and I both watched it in awe, smiling and pointing out places we’ve also been, or asking if it was where we thought it was. I thought it was so amazing of them for doing the trip, and then I remembered ‘Oh yea, I’m doing that too!’ and suddenly everything felt possible and wonderful and I felt so grateful I was doing the exact same thing they were doing. It was a really incredible feeling to have realized I couldn’t say “Ohmigod, that’s awesome, I wish I was doing that!” because I already am doing it. WE are doing it, maybe a bit poorly lately (not being as enthusiastic about it as we should) but we’re doing it! And now that we’re well on our way of overcoming the 10 month travel slump, we’ll be back on top of the world in no time!

In case you’re trying to overcome your own ten month travel slump, or you’re curious how our wonderful friends, Josh and Leanne helped us get out of our’s, you can check out their video, here:

Meanwhile, in Kotor, there was an art festival for children going on. There were a few different art installations set up around the city. The giant hanging laundry outside of a church in the walled in old town was my favorite. Maybe I was just super excited that a washing machine came with the apartment the four of us rented and I didn’t have to wash anything by hand…

Day 265: Nargila in Istanbul

“We’re back in the ‘bul.” as Andrew liked to say.

We woke up late, as one should after nearly fourteen hours of travel. We lounged in Juliet and Daniel’s apartment until meeting up with Josh, Leanne, and Margarita for dinner. Meeting up with friends at a subway or tram stop in a foreign city will never, ever get old. It’s one of my favorite things. I’ve met friends in the middle of Prague, at a random subway stop in Tokyo, and a rooftop bar in Chiang Mai – to name a few. It’s one of the perks of being a traveler. Your friends travel and sometimes they happen to be traveling through the same country you are in or they go out of their way to visit or meet up with you on your journey.

We met at the Eminou tram stop and headed for a fun dinner under Galata Bridge.  “Lady… Listen. Listen… Lady.” the waiter kept trying to interrupt our nonstop catch up to get our order. Leanne and I rolled our eyes. Josh and Andrew ordered beers. Margarita sat enthralled (I’m going to go ahead and pick that adjective, as it’s much more fun than ‘bored’ as she probably was) at us catching up on our past few months of adventures in different countries on our respective trips around the world.

Because of Josh’s newfound love of nargila (hookah to you) we all jumped on the tram after dinner and headed to a rather infamous little alley in an old madrassa in Sultanamet for a spot of tea and a few draws off the ole’ pipe. Not that kind of pipe. It’s much less incriminating than it sounds. At this particular institution, and you get the feeling that it is an institution, old men sat playing backgammon or simply taking a break in between work and their walk home. It’s calm despite the hustle of the men who work there serving tea or heating up and delivering coals to their patrons’ pipes. I had a bit of a “Oh, so this is Turkey…” feeling.

We’ve seen wonderful things here in Turkey (my favorite possibly being Goreme) but it has all felt overly touristy and I was starting to wonder what all of the fuss (over Turkey) has been about. But tonight, I started to get it. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed our time in Turkey, it’s just that I expected rainbows and unicorns every day all the time from the way our friends gushed over their visits here.

A friend recently asked what I thought about Turkey and I wasn’t as positive as I should have been. The factors of our stay didn’t work in our favor. Turkey IS amazing. I can see how it would have felt more amazing for us if we (mostly Andrew) weren’t stuck wearing the same clothes for a week, maybe if were staying in the heart of Istanbul, and we weren’t on a strict budget (trying to make up for an expensive three months in Africa). Andrew pointed out that it was probably unfair of us to put such high expectations on Turkey. It’s one of those countries I already know I’d like to revisit- with less expectation and perhaps more money.

We left our friends earlier than we would have liked to catch the tram/funicular/subway/taxi combination “home.” I was disappointed to have to leave, yet so grateful for Josh, Leanne, and Margarita for showing us a different side of Istanbul that we might not have seen otherwise.

Day 184 Ngorongoro Crater

You know it’s going to be a good day when an elephant ambles into your campsite to get a drink of water before your jeep is loaded up. The view from the edge of the rim, before we descended into the crater was spectacular, and it was a wonderful start to the day that marked our three-year anniversary. Three whole years together that included six whole months spent traveling through more than ten countries together.

At first, I thought “Oh this is pretty! Yep… lots of animals here… How nice…”

And then, we saw a line of metal and glass reflecting the sunlight in the distance. “Something is going on down there.” Josh said excitedly. I couldn’t believe so many jeeps would be lined up watching something, “Really? “Maybe it’s a parking lot or something… That’s a lot of jeeps!” I responded.

It wasn’t a parking lot. As we got closer, it was a line of a crazy amount of jeeps watching seven lions surround two cape buffalo. It was a big five kill taking place before our very eyes. ‘The Big Five’ refers to the five animals that are hardest to kill on foot. Not, because of their size. They are the lion, leopard, Cape buffalo, African elephant, and Black rhinoceros.

We later learned that this drawn out kill began with seven or eight buffalo when the lions attacked. At first we thought the male mate was sticking by his wounded female, but we later learned that they were both males. The other buffalos had left, leaving one wounded and one trying to help his friend.

“Arnold, I think I should go help the buffalo…” I said, offering to climb out of the jeep and protect the wounded animal from the preying lions. He laughed, and allowed no such thing. Even from far away, looking through the binoculars, we were wide-eyed with excitement and wonder over the drawn out big five battle. We were also surprised there was no big male lion leading the fight. Younger males and lionesses were in charge. Where was the older male?

“There he is!” I cried out as I spotted an older lion with a big mane laying up against one of the jeeps watching the battle.

Arnold told us that the older male lions let the young and the females do their bidding until the animal was dead. Then he was the first to eat from the fresh kill. We were in awe at his laziness. He just slept in the shade while not one, but seven of his pride tackled a huge buffalo for his (and their) dinner. Arnold drove us closer. We learned that some of the jeeps had been watching since sunrise – a little over two hours before we had arrived. I was grateful we hadn’t been there so long. It was hard to watch, and I felt for the buffalo.

The lions would circle in, one would jump on the wounded buffalo and he would try to fight back until his friend came and shooed the lions away. Sometimes the lions would tease the healthy buffalo, until he would lower his horns and the lions would back off. The healthy lion called for his friends, but none of them responded, none of them came to help fend the lions away. Our friends from the hostel who were also on safari were there watching in another jeep. Tiffany said it was as if the one buffalo sat down to take one for the team- in a way, to let the other ones go away, and live. But this didn’t make the healthy buffalo who stayed by the wounded one’s side happy.

The healthy buffalo nudged his wounded friend, trying to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge. He circled around for awhile, and then… he started walking away. I know, I know, “It’s the circle of life…” and I shouldn’t be so emotional over it, but it was heartbreaking. Editing the hundreds (and believe me. There were hundreds) of photos was more difficult than watching the kill unfold in real life.

As soon as the lions were sure the healthy buffalo was far enough away, they moved in. The wounded buffalo had to know what was coming, but he put up a fight. It was heroic. With seven lions either on him or pulling his legs apart, he stayed up for quite awhile before they eventually had him on his back. It was cruel watching them rip the buffalo apart. But then, the buffalo got up again, making one last stand until the lions pulled him back down one last time.

I’m assuming it was one last time. After the two hours or so we had devoted to watching the kill go down, we told Arnold we could go pursue a rhino or two before our permit was up to stay in the crater. We reeled, in disbelief over what we saw. And then there were more lions, just hanging out in the crater. Walking around LIKE A BOSS. Making all of the other animals a little bit twitchy wondering what they were going to do. Instead of any more kills, they walked towards us and took a sip of water from a puddle on the side of the road and continued ambling around the crater.

“They are lazy in the crater.” Arnold told us. With the walls so high, other animals have nowhere to go. If that water buffalo kill happened in the Serengeti, it would have happened much faster because the Serengeti is so huge, and the animals can run away or hide more easily.

We spotted a rhino in the distance, rounding out our Big Five sightings, some zebras playing, took a few group pictures and then headed out of the crater and back to Arusha. We may be over budget, but boy was it totally worth it. And hey, maybe this means we’ll be home sooner than we thought we would! Good news all around!