YAY! The saga begins . . .

Enjoying a lot.

Thanks for sharing, M.

Looking forward to more.

Hilarious - and it is bringing back memories.

Being flatlanders, we referred to "The Stairs" as "The Mountain".

Good start---I cannot wait for more. You have to love Prague !

Great start Tom...looking forward to the next installment.

By the way, I could not get my hands on any magic cream in France and unfortunately my foot was an issue. The hilltowns of the Luberon were almost the death of me! Waiting to see a specialist now.

Oh Yay!!

I am so looking forward to the rest of this report. As you may remember I did pretty much the same itinerary 2 years ago and I am loving all the memories your report is bringing back to me already.

Love the "SVFS (Sudden Vacation Fatigue Syndrome)" reference and plan to use it in the future!

Looking forward to more!

Yay, now I won't get any work done until the end of the trip report. Hope it's a long one.

Tom,

Thanks for giving me some fun reading for what I hope is the rest of the summer. We also approached our Terminal 5 experience last month with great trepidation, and it turned out to be just fine - glad that they seem to have gotten the kinks out, it went very smoothly for us, and since we got our luggage on both ends, all is well in the land.

Marcia

Finally! Please hurry up with the next installment.

ttt

Keep it coming Tom, I have been looking forward to this.

tom, your trip report is one of the reasons I don't spend much at Barnes & Noble anymore- this lit is much more entertaining!

Looking forward to the remainder of your report!

thanks bunches!

Paula

Omg - lovin' every minute of this! Can't wait to find out why Montenegro was so indecent as to not let you in!

Please, please, please - more report sooner than later!

tom and Tracey:


Back again....? I know what that means..I have to lengthen my breaks from my deadline pushes so I can follow your every step into territory I love, and with which I am quite familiar...but your point of view in past Trip Reports adds a new and fascinating dimension...heep on typing, Tom!

Let Tracey in once in a while too. Pics? I'm sure you'll be tossing them our way....you're sure correct about differentiating between Central and Eastern Europa!

stu t.

Oh, happy day! I haven't been on this board for ages (been spending all my time on the South America and US boards) but clicked here to read the "Would you move to Europe" thread and came across this. Maitai Tom trip reports are the best! The Italy one and the Christmas in Paris one are among my favorite posts ever.

I did this trip about a decade ago and have great memories. Can't wait to read how it went with you.

Write more soon!

taitai

Great beginning, Tom! Looking forward to more.

"You have to love Prague !"
Bob, I could not agree more. We absolutely thought Prague was terrific.

"Hope it's a long one."
bfrac, be careful what you wish for. Tracy is pleading with me for a condensed version, knowing that if I continue down this path, it will be too long.

"...giving me some fun reading for what I hope is the rest of the summer."
Marcia, that is exactly what Tracy is afraid of (for good reason).

I do really like to relive my trips, and these reports (which I have done even in the pre-Fodor's days) help keep the memories vivid and alive for me.

I hope I can give you some tidbits of our trip that might help in your planning if you ever want to visit any of these places and in a manner that doesn't bore you too much with the details.

Tom,

Don't worry, if the rest is just as good, it won't be toolong.

Tom

PS Pictures please

Loving the report already. The same security check happened to us on our way to our hotel in the Mala Strana, we were a little worried to say the least. Everytime we walked in and out of the "area" the guards gave us "that" look. It soon became a joke to try and get passed without them seeing us, ie sneaking behind those huge garbage bins etc. Well we were enjoying ourselves even if they thought we were nuts!!!

Schnauzer

waiting....<tap, tap>

Good start.

I'm patient, I waited, I'm in for a treat. Thanks Tom and Tracy.

...have we ever complained about long, detailed Trip Reports? I don't think so!

Tom, now I have to find a map of Central (not Eastern) Europe to follow your trip.

Are you going to do a TR with pictures, like the Tuscan trip?

This is just the encouragement I need to continue my mid-summer work-stoppage at my day job. Keep it coming! I have looked forward to this, Tom!

DAY TWO - AN ASTOUNDING CATHEDRAL, A BREW WITH A VIEW, NO ZLOTY ZONE, AND TOM’S PRAGUE DEATH MARCH!

At home, you have to drag me out of bed on Sunday morning. On vacation, however, I am The Energizer Bunny.

On this particular, beautiful Prague Sunday, I was standing on The Charles Bridge at 7 a.m. shooting pictures while the others got another hour of sleep. A person I met on the bridge said this was the first day in weeks where they expected really nice weather. “Rain,” he said. “We’ve had lots of rain.”

Timing is everything, baby!

The reports are correct. If you want to be on The Charles Bridge without hordes of people trampling you, early in the morning is the only time to accomplish that trick. By about 10 a.m., it’s every man, woman and child for themselves.

As I traversed the bridge, looking up at the Prague Castle and out onto the Vltava, I noticed there was one statue that seemed to garner much more attention than any other on the bridge. I recognized it as the statue of St. John of Nepomuk, who, like most saints, received his sainthood status the hard way. Nearly everyone who passed the statue rubbed on the gold engraving, which is supposed to grant each person one wish.

Believers, I don’t want to spoil a good story, but it doesn’t work, and my wish was not very complicated. Oh well, maybe it just doesn’t work for Presbyterians.

I met up with the rest of the gang about 8:15, and after some incredibly overpriced espressos and cappuccinos, we walked up “The Stairs” to the Prague Castle Complex.

Mary asked, “Isn’t there another way to get up there?”

Well, yes there was, but it wasn’t until we returned home that I was reminded of that easier method to transport people to the castle. But, what the heck, we had to get in shape for the rest of the trip.

We were able to go inside St. Vitus just before Mass, and the sun streaming through the stained glass windows was a spectacular sight to behold. We had to scurry out, but knew we would see the entire interior of the church at the end of our audio tour.

The Castle audioguide tour cost 250 Kč per person, and it included entrance to the Old Royal Palace, St. Georges Basilica, the Golden Lane, Daliborka Tower, and (best of all) with the audioguide, we would also be allowed in the exit of St. Vitus Cathedral when it reopened, bypassing the long line waiting to get inside. It was like having a Paris Museum card in Prague (only a lot larger and heavier).

After getting through the first four parts of the tour, and since St. Vitus wasn’t going to open for another 90 minutes, we put our audioguides in our pockets and headed up to Strahovský kláster (Strahov Monastery & Library), the second oldest monastery in Prague.

I don’t know if they frown upon tourists taking audio guides off the premises, but on this day we did without any ramifications. Plus, they had my driver’s license, so they knew where we lived.

We viewed the incredible ceiling in the Theological Hall of the library. The old collection of books and the now extinct Dodo bird on display was kind of cool, too.

All of this culture can make a group thirsty (a dodo bird is culture, right?), so after touring the library, and since we still had time before St. Vitus opened, it was time for a libation. Close by to the monastery, we spied a restaurant that had a magnificent view of Prague from its outdoor patio. It was after 11 a.m., so it must be time for beer. In just a few minutes, we were to reach pivo nirvana.

We sat down at a table at the Bellavista restaurant on this warm day and ordered an Urquell dark, draft pivo (at least I think it was Urquell). I am not a big beer drinker, but this beer was stupendous. For a dark beer, it was light, flavorful and even a little sweet.

If we hadn’t stolen four audioguides and needed to get back to St. Vitus, I could have stayed here all day. The menu items looked interesting, and we decided to come back here for dinner one night.

In a magnanimous gesture, I offered to pay for the pivos and handed the waiter some money. He looked at the money and started laughing. “Sorry, we don’t take Polish money here.” I had mixed up my zloty with my koruna.

“Just like the old days before the euro,” I thought.

As we walked toward the entrance of the castle complex, there were a bunch of guys in uniform, and I was afraid they had sent out troops searching for a group of Americans with stolen audioguides. Fortunately, it was just the changing of the guard ceremony. By now, the castle was packed with visitors.

The line for St. Vitus was long, but when it reopened, we went in the exit and wound our way through the cathedral. The four of us have visited many (sometimes we feel too many) churches and cathedrals, but St. Vitus vaulted into all of our “Top Five” lists.

Although we had done a lot of walking, there was an “opportunity” for us to walk up the 287 stairs to the top of St. Vitus. Since I never met a set of stairs that could not be vanquished, up we went.

The views out over Prague were astounding. The people on the crowded Charles Bridge looked like ants.

It was now two in the afternoon, and I made the huge mistake of saying, “Let’s eat lunch over in the Staromestské Námestí (Old Town Square). By the time we found a place to sit down and eat, it was about 3 p.m., the weather had become quite warm, we were sweating, and I could see that our walking warriors were getting a little testy with their fearless leader.

Did that deter my first-day walking tour of Prague to continue after lunch? Well, not really. As I sat in the square, looking out at the statue of Jan Hus (who was burned at the stake in the 1400s, but who did get a statue of himself built here 500 years later), I had this idea to walk over to a famous beer garden after lunch.

As it turned out, by the time we got there, Tracy, Kim and Mary had notions of burning me at the stake.

But before we started walking, we looked at our watches, and it was 15 minutes before the hour. A huge crowd was hurriedly gathering in front of The Old Town Hall orloj (Astronomical Clock). Yes, the dance of the glockenspiel was only moments away, and people started jostling for a good position to watch. For a Southern Californian, it was similar to being at the scene of a Britney Spears’ arrest.

At the top of the hour some goofy little characters did a dance (well, they shook anyway), and then, poof, the spectacle was over. When it ended, almost as soon as it had started, there was a vocal, collective sigh that filtered through the crowd, as if to say, “I wasted 20 minutes of my life for this.”

Speaking of collective, although our collective feet were tired and getting more and more sore by the step, we walked toward our next stop, U Flecku, one of the oldest beer gardens in Prague.

On the map, it didn’t look that far. In reality, it was turning into a big Tom mistake, and as we finally sat down at the table in the beer garden, my beautiful and trusting wife gazed at me and said lovingly, “What the Hell were you thinking, you idiot?” Sometimes I don’t relish my role as tour director. At least the beer was good.

Kim, always there to help, equated the last part of our walk to a death march, while Mary just looked happy that she was married to the “other guy” at the table

By the time we walked across the river, through Kampa Island, up the stairs to the Charles Bridge and back to the apartment it was after 6 p.m.

Tracy wasn’t talking to me for the moment, so I had a chance to reflect on the day. Since it was the “first nice day” in quite some time, people took advantage of that fact. The river had been full of canoes, kayaks, paddleboats and other floating vessels, which just added to the charm of Prague. The views both from and of the Prague Castle were stunning.

Old Town Square was really cool with the spires of the Church of Our Lady Before Tyn rising above it. It would have been nicer had there not been a structure built right in front of the church, which I think was the doing of Hapsburg era folks.

We had not had a large lunch, and by the eight o’clock hour both my wife and friends were once again speaking to me, as was my nearly empty stomach. There are an abundant number of nice, little restaurants on Nerudova Street in Mala Strana, and we wandered nearly all the way to the top of the street checking them out (just can’t get enough walking).

We decided upon a place called Ferdinand, which we had passed early in the walk up the street. It was very cute and had a garden in the back, but since it was reserved, we ate under the nice vaulted ceiling in front. The dinner was good, and they had a varied selection of steak, chicken and fish dishes. Mary sampled a goulash with very bizarre bread dumplings.

What we noticed most about the restaurant was its intricate plating. Over the course of the next few weeks, it became apparent that in many restaurants in Central Europe (or at least the ones we frequented), plating was an important part of the presentation. It also became apparent that the food was going to be better than what we had expected.

We walked back near the embassies and happened upon a very neat wine cellar that would become our home away from home in Prague and then we had a quick drink at an Irish pub.

It was here I made the error of saying, “Geez, my feet are killing me.” It was the first “unanimous look” I had ever received.

The following day our friends Doug and Jackie (who had just flown in on this night from Southern California) would hook up with us for a day of sightseeing, and I decided we would go at a more leisurely pace. What I did not know was that we were going to dine at two fantastic restaurants.

COMING UP: DAY THREE – A JEWISH HISTORY LESSON, THAI-ING ONE ON, SEEING RED, CELLAR DWELLERS AND MAYBE ONE DOES COME TO PRAGUE FOR THE FOOD

Urquell before noon---I love it and have been there.

Wonderful as always. What was the Prague apartment like? Did you each have your own apt or share a 2 bedroom? Was it charming??

"What was the Prague apartment like? "

The biggest positives were location (very close to Charles Bridge, Kampa Island, Prague Castle and lots of restaurants in quiet Mala Strana location) and price.

Pasquale was a terrific host; arranging transportation from airport, meeting us at apartment and giving us a little orientation of Prague. We also stopped by his office in old Town a couple of times, and he was very accommodating and gave us recommendations. He was a genuinely nice guy.

We had two apartments on the second floor above a courtyard that had a restaurant (that closed early, so there was no noise at night except for an occasional speeding car). The apartments were secure and we had keys to outside door and inside apartments.

Kim and Mary's apartment had a little kitchenette that you walked into and there were wood beams in the bedroom. It was cuter than ours.

Our room was definitely more Spartan. It could have used a nice coat of paint and a little more TLC, but for the price (79 Euros a night), it more than made up for its shortcomings. As you can see from my previous post, it's not like we are in the room very much, anyway.

I would say if one was a finicky traveler, needs clean sheets each day and wants to be a little pampered, this would not be the place for them to stay. But if you value a clean, safe place with a gracious host, and at a price that frankly can't be beat for its location, I would most definitely recommend it. There is also a little grocery store directly across the street.

The owners of the Vlasska Apartments also have The Arcadia Residence that is similar to a B&B and gets rave reviews on Trip Advisor, located in Vyšehrad, which is about a 20 minute walk to the Charles Bridge and they also own apartments near Old Town called Kozna, I believe.

Great start, MT! I always look forward to your tip reports so much

Am I the only person who was underwhelmed by the Charles Bridge? Okay, it is old and stony and bumpy, but what is the big deal?

Great report as usual!

Did you see St. Vitus dance?

Your trip reports are so well written. They're the best. I can't wait to read more. I loved the food, beer, wine in Prague. We were there in the winter and it was fabulous; both the city and the food.

Yipper

Oh well, maybe it just doesn’t work for Presbyterians.

I'm really enjoying your report. I may be travelling to Slovenia soon, so I eagerly await...

Just catching up with your (again) terrific report. I love to be able to look forward to these installments.

I think this is the first time I've actually read one of your reports, maitaitom - I've heard of them, of course. But then, one hears of the loch ness monster, too!

Very much enjoying it. Central Europe is on the list, though there are other places closer to the top. The apartments sound exactly like I like

ttt

Can't wait to read more - your trip reports are the best!

I love your trip reports and have been waiting for this one. Keep it coming!

Tracy

Speed it up, Tom

"Speed it up, Tom"

This working for a living is killing me. I will get back at it soon.

As always, I'm a fan of your trip reports. We're traveling with friends next year for the 1st time(Italy and France). You give me hope that we'll all be speaking at the end !

Work is such a distraction isn't it Tom?

But you have an important fan club here. We can't wait too long for your next post.

DAY THREE – A JEWISH HISTORY LESSON, THAI-ING ONE ON, SEEING RED, CELLAR DWELLERS, BEWARE OF FLYING MICE AND MAYBE ONE DOES COME TO PRAGUE FOR THE FOOD

Since I didn’t know yet that St. John of Nepomuk really didn’t grant ones’ wishes, I decided to meet our friends Doug and Jackie at his statue on The Charles Bridge to start the day. They looked none-the-worse for jet lag, and our day was underway.

After hooking up with the rest of the gang, we walked over to Josefov (Jewish Quarter), which we had been told had some of the more interesting Jewish sights in Europe. The places to visit are located within a three to four-square block area, and you buy an admission pass that lets you visit six of them. You must purchase a separate entrance ticket to the Staronová Synagóga (Old-New Synagogue).

We bought the pass outside the Pinkasova Synagóga, where the hand written names of more than 75,000 Czech Jews who were sent to Auschwitz cover the walls.

If that wasn’t enough to make one somber, upstairs is a collection of artwork done by children from the concentration camp. Below the art are the names and dates of the children’s birth dates and date of death. A few of the children survived, but most of those who had art displayed here unfortunately did not survive. It was quite moving.

Exiting, we walked over to the Stary zidovsky hrbitov (The Old Jewish Cemetery). I’m sure many of you have seen pictures of this place with its askew tombstones. It was quite fascinating to see this burial ground.

After the cemetery, we visited Obradni Sin (Ceremonial Hall), Klauzová Synagogue, Maiselova Synagóga and the Spanelská Synagóga.

Remembering my miscalculation of the lunch hour the previous day, it was decided we would eat lunch at a normal time, so since it was the noon hour, and we were all famished, it was time to find a restaurant.

I believe one of the hardest aspects of traveling with four or six people is deciding upon a restaurant, and once again, we started meandering aimlessly through the streets of Prague. “Oh God, not a repeat of yesterday,” I thought. It was bad enough having three people mad at me, but five would be too much.

Perusing menus, comments such as “does that look good?” and “well, that’s kind of expensive” could be heard uttered. The restaurant search might have gone on for a long time, but mercifully it was resolved shortly.

Fortunately, Doug and Jackie pulled out a Lonely Planet guide that had an interesting restaurant very near to where we were standing. Traditional Czech cuisine was not in the offing on this afternoon.

The Orange Moon is a Thai restaurant located between Old Town and Josefov, and its menu of Thai, Burmese and Indian cuisine was spectacular (at very reasonable prices, too). We dined on such dishes as beef kabobs, stir fried beef with basil and chili sauce and a chicken salad with fresh mint, Galanga, lemon and fresh chili.

Of course, this was all accompanied by copious amounts of pivo. Love that pivo!

We deemed Kim’s dish of fried rice noodles with chicken, bean sprouts, leeks and ground peanuts as the overall best dish. He must have liked it since he was nearly licking the plate afterward, and we could hear him exclaim on numerous occasions later in the day (and later in the trip), “Damn, that lunch was good.”

We walked through Old Town, gave Doug and Jackie the lowdown on when to see the Astronomical Clock Dance (if at all), and we started walking to Nové Mésto and Wenceslas Square. To paraphrase The Who, “We met the New Town, but it wasn’t the same as the Old Town.” Knowing us, we would not get fooled again.

Of course, there was a reason to walk to the New Town. We were looking for a specific museum that we were told was near a McDonald’s.

We found one McDonald’s, but there was no museum upstairs, just a bunch of people raising their cholesterol counts to near deadly proportions. I had to run out before the addicting smell of their pommes frites drew me into a “Vortex of Unwanted Calories.”

We walked three quarters of the way around the block and happened upon another McDonald’s and a sign pointing us to our next destination, The Museum of Communism. There are a lot of witty propaganda posters with clever captions like one of Stalin that said, “They coined the term politically correct fifty years before the West caught on.”

After visiting the few rooms full of interesting and authentic artifacts, you can view a 15-minute film showing Prague’s history under Communist rule and the Velvet Revolution. It could have been quite an interesting film, but someone needs to edit it because the same footage is shown time and time again. I believe if someone spent some money and worked on this project, this film could make a much more powerful statement.

While in the New Town, we caught a glimpse of The Powder Tower and Obecní Dum, but it was getting late in the afternoon, and we were going to all get together later for dinner. In an event to avoid complete exhaustion (like yesterday), we decided to walk back to our respective apartments (by the way, Doug and Jackie stayed in Vinohrady, an area they said they enjoyed).

Our apartment was located very near Chram sv. Mikulase (Church of St. Nicholas). I asked Tracy if she minded stopping in to the church (yes, I had learned a valuable lesson), and we went in. The church is quite lovely, and we climbed the stairs to view some Baroque paintings. Then, it was back to the apartment to relax.

I guess relaxing is different for Tom and Tracy.

Refreshed after a 30-minute nap and nice shower, we were going to hook up with everyone at the downstairs wine cellar, The Noble Club, which the four of us had stopped by for a moment the previous evening.

Walking down the stairs to the cellar and, in a startlingly similar fashion as I had 20 hours earlier, I knocked over the candle at the end of the stairs (you can actually see the exact candle on its website). Fortunately, it was not lit, or I would be posting this from Prague Prison.

Kim was already flirting with the wine girl (the lovely Denise) upon our entrance to the cellar, so I knew the evening was getting off to a good start. This vinotheque (located at Tržiště 371) offers several wines by the glass and has a nice selection of wines from around the world. The music was perfect (I can hear Julie London singing “Fly Me To The Moon” as I am writing this).

We sat in a little room (no smoking) that had about six or seven tables lit by candles. The entire place was charming, the wines Denise selected for us (a Zweigeltrebe 2003 Moravian wine and the Chateau des Ducs Bordeaux Superieur) were good. They also served (on a wooden platter) some bread, cheese (Swedish), tomatoes and green olives. Everything was perfect, but now it was time for us all to walk up to the Bellavista for what we hoped would be a fantastic dinner.

The evening was gorgeous, and the Bellavista was pretty empty when we arrived a little before 9 p.m. We secured a spot on the patio that had fabulous Prague views.

We had been in Prague for 50 hours, and Mary had not uttered one crazy line yet. This was about to change. Shortly after we arrived, our waiter came over, and Mary started the evening out with this conversation starter, “Do you ever get bats?”

“Bats?” our waiter asked.

Mary quickly retorted, “Yes, you know, mice that fly.”

Fortunately, Jorge (our Bolivian waiter) stayed and filled our drink order, while Kim quickly checked Mary’s purse to see if she was dipping into the Ambien again (please see Italy Trip Report 2005).

To begin, Kim, Doug and I sucked down another dark, draft, delicious Urquell (ok, now I am having serious Urquell withdrawal…where do I find dark Urquell in L.A.?). Then it was on to (arguably) the best dinner of the trip.

(Menu topic haters, please move on a couple of paragraphs. Oh hell, you’re all long, gone by now anyway)

First of all, Kim’s grilled salmon with pesto was so incredible that I wanted to sing, “Salmon chanted Evening” but thought the better of it. My mushroom risotto with Mascarpone was phenomenal, while Tracy’s rocket salad with pecorino, tomatoes and lemon dressing also was scrumptious.

Our dishes were rounded out by spaghetti with olio and garlic peppers, a grilled Kielbasa with Tuscan mustard and grilled chicken breasts with spinach salad and pine nuts. Every dish was fantastic; the wine was good and the pivo memorable (obviously).

The Bellavista receives rave reviews from all of us. It’s not often you get great food coupled with a great view, but this is the exception to the well-established rule.

We said goodbye to Doug and Jackie (who would be leaving for Salzburg in a couple of days). Our nightcap once again took us to the Irish pub down the street from our apartments, and we were in bed before midnight.

I couldn’t figure out why, as my head hit the pillow, that I was flashing back to putting the wrong gas in our car in 2005. Then it hit me: Tomorrow, we would be picking up our first rental-mobile of the trip. God help us all!

COMING UP: DAY FOUR – LICENSE TO KILL, CUTTING OUT TO KUTNA HORA, DEM BONES, NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL STACKED, WHO’S STEVEN AND INTRODUCING LADY GARMIN

Great installment MT! Thanks for my daily dose of laughter

“Salmon chanted Evening”

Love it! We'll be hitting up the Bellavista in October. Can't wait for the Urquell.

MT, I always love your trip reports! What great fun you have on your travels and what a talent for telling us about it. Can't wait for more.
Judy

Hi MT,

Great report.

“Salmon chanted Evening”

I believe it's lines like that which have precluded me from being included in the 'Have you ever been quoted by Fodor's?' Thanks for all the nice comments by you all.

It's time to quit your day job, Tom. Hell, make Tracy work 2 jobs if you have to. We want more, NOW!!

Glad to see that the copious amounts of pivo (and vino from prior excursions) hasn't dimmed the bulb, yet..................

Thanks for reporting!

Tom

You are a rock star,Tom..You have so many people (including me) waiting for your continuing report.

Happy to see that the CzRep has improved on it's gastronomic offerings. Seems like they've come a long way from traditional dumplings that tasted like tennis balls, slabs of unidentifiable meat, grease-spotted soup and the saddest selection of desserts on the planet..this is the way it was in the 80's, and even in the first few years of "light" (1990-1995).

We even tried "David" when it first opened in '92-'93 and it was a pitiful attempt at fine dining from what Fodorites say it is today (one of the city's best). Bellavista sounds superb....we'll just have to return to "Praha fair".

Vive la Progress! (None of the above ever took away the overall charm that still is Prague)

Next installment, please!

Stu T. (I didn't realize you and Tracey were fellow Angelenos)

Stu, Yes. Pasadena area. if you find some Urquell draft (dark) in L.A. area, all the pivo is on me. I am finishing up next installment tonight (although the martinis might hinder my work..then again, they might help).

Enough of the Urquell. Did you try the Krusovice?

tom,

Is this the same stuff? The blog says he got his at Hamburger Hamlet in Hollywood Hills.

http://beerblahblog.blogspot.com/2006/11/pilsner-urquell.html

Loving it!

So glad I had time to get onto Fodor's and find this trip report.

No time to relish this right now (new grandbaby and all ) so I;m saving it for later.

DAY FOUR – LICENSE TO KILL, CUTTING OUT TO KUTNA HORA, DEM BONES, NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL STACKED, WHO’S STEVEN AND INTRODUCING LADY GARMIN

Each morning before the taskmaster (aka maitaitom or ”idiot,” depending on who you talk to) had us going all over town, we would stop at Malostranska Kavarna (across from the wine cellar) and have coffee and muffins to get us going. On this morning, Kim ordered a chocolate croissant, and after one bite, he said, “Tom, I recommend you buy one of these.” Good call.

Bolstered by extra sugar, we crossed the Charles Bridge and I rubbed…well let’s just call him St. What’s His Name from now on. We walked to the Intercontinental Hotel to pick up our rental car. The car we had ordered was unavailable (I think maybe it had read my trip report from 2005 and was hiding in the bowels of the garage), so we were upgraded to a Passat Wagon.

Sensing trepidation on my part, the rental car guy gave us a thorough explanation of how the car worked, including the very important petrol/reverse issues that had plagued us a few short years ago.

I was ready to drive us to Kutna Hora and reached into my pocket for my International Drivers License, and, voila, nothing. I was sure my trusted and lovely spouse had put it in our daypack, but no luck. Although upset at myself, unlike Rome a few years back, I didn’t run like a mad man back to the hotel, because Kim also had one, so we were on our way.

Today, a new companion joined the four of us, but at first, it seemed she just did not want to talk to us. It wasn’t that she was shy; it was just that she had not warmed up to Mary’s constant touching of her different parts.

Hey, watch what you’re thinking! Mary was only trying to program the Garmin GPS and was having a little trouble. But about one quarter of the way to Kutna Hora we heard the melodic and soothing words that we would hear another 1,493 times in the next few weeks: “Recalculating.”

It was a pretty straight shot to Kutna Hora, so we just let the Garmin rest. It was her first day after all. Kim did an expert job of driving, and I tried to put my Type A personality on the back burner and savor my role as passenger.

Kutna Hora is a cute, little town with a few places we wanted to explore before we headed on to Kostnice u Sedlici (Sedlec Bone Church). But sights always take a back seat to sustenance, so after parking, and since it was hot, we found a restaurant.

The meal was very good under large shade trees in a walled garden patio. Beer of choice at this place was Gambrinus.

We exited the restaurant and walked over to Chrám sv. Barbory (St. Barbara’s Cathedral), which has been a UNESCO sight for more than a decade, I believe.

Kim had read that the stained glass and frescoes would make your jawbones drop. “I guess we’ll have to go to the Bone Church to pick up the jaw,” he said. Really bad jokes can be contagious.

Strolling through Kutna Hora we found the Stone Fountain and the Stone House but somehow missed out on Sly and the Family Stone. It was now time to go from stone to bone, and we got in the car for the short drive to Sedlec.

Obviously, not all roads lead to Sedlec, because for some reason we could not find any signs and the Garmin did not have it on her radar. We just kept ending up back at Kutna Hora.

Finally, after Kim stopped and I got directions from a bus driver from Denmark (ok that really didn’t help), we finally found the Sedlec Ossuary (hint: look for signs to Kostnice), whose interior is created out of human bones.

At one point, this was one of the top-notch burial spots in Europe, but since it got so crowded, a monk was given the job to collect all these bones for an ossuary. Then in the 1800s, an artist was hired to decorate the church with all the bones, which supposedly represent every bone in the human body.

Tracy said that had to be hard work, and I replied, “Yes, but he made no bones about it.” It’s hard to imagine traveling four weeks with us, isn’t it?

The trip back to Prague was enlightening as the Garmin GPS took us on our merry way. Since we were not in any hurry, and even when it seemed she was leading us astray, we followed her every command. I believe this was the first day she was dubbed “Lady Garmin,” a name that she would keep for the duration of the vacation.

Soon we were in downtown Prague traffic, and Lady G navigated us through the crowded streets like a woman twice her age (which would only make her two days old). We drove by the Tančící dům (Dancing House), which made Tracy very happy because now we wouldn’t have to walk here.

It is very apparent that its architect, Frank Geary, had spent a lot of time in Los Angeles, because the Dancing House looks like it just was hit with a magnitude 7 earthquake.

We then drove up our street and, of course, were pulled over to the curb by the police to inspect our car before heading by the embassies.

“Please open your hood,” he said to Kim.

Just then we had an instant head-slapping realization (I could have had a V8) that we had not asked the rental car guy how to perform that seemingly easy operation. Fortunately, the policeman assisted us, and we were on our way to our next dilemma. There was no public parking near our apartment.

Fortunately, our landlord Pasquale had mentioned that the Hotel Constance, located up the street from the Vlasska Apartments, might have parking available. The Hotel Constance is a charming boutique hotel, and the girl behind the desk was charming as was the hotel manager, Filip. Yes, they had parking, we were told.

Filip opened the garage for Kim, who expertly navigated through the narrow space and was then told him to stop. There was another car in our space, but suddenly the door in front of that car closed and then, within seconds, it opened back up to reveal an empty parking spot. Perhaps Filip was David Copperfield in disguise.

“No,” he explained. It seems the Hotel Constance has an automatic stacking parking lift that can hold up to eight cars. We didn’t see anything stacked like that again until we got to Poland (pardon me). It cost a little more than 30 bucks a day to park there.

The Hotel Constance looks like a place to check out on a future trip here.

As we walked back to the apartment Mary had a sudden thought, “We need to get our money to Steven tomorrow.”

“Umm, who is Steven?” Kim asked. “Do you mean Pasquale?” Not knowing how Mary confused the name Pasquale for Steven, Kim did another quick Ambien check, but everything seemed fine.

We were tired from our day, but not too tired to head over to the Noble Club for a bottle of Dornfelder 2006 Moravia late harvest wine and some cheese.

In a Jimmy Stewart “It’s A Wonderful Life” moment, I once again grabbed the candle on the way down the staircase and, like the two days before, it dislodged from its appointed place. Fortunately, the owners must have known I was coming and the candle was not lit (although in a true test of faith, they did light it before we left)

There was a restaurant on Nerudova Street that we had wanted to try for dinner, but it was closed, and since we were tired and did not want to go in search of food for the next hour, we decided upon a place serving pizza outside in the back patio, where we dined with three Indian doctors from England. It was fine, but nothing to write home about or even here for that matter.

Kim and Mary retired shortly thereafter, but, of course, Tracy and I zipped down for our nightly libation at the pub, where the conversation with the bartender quickly turned to groups like U2 and Queen, and, finally, after a few nights, I was starting to get the hang of the Jameson and water thing.

The next day was to be our last in Prague, and we still had a lot to accomplish, but I told Tracy we could sleep in a little…very little.

COMING UP: DAY FIVE – SWEET PEACOCK, TRACY FINALLY GETS HER GARDENS, A FAREWELL TO ARM, IS THAT THE EIFFEL TOWER, AND AU REVOIR TO PRAGUE

Yeah, Wallenstein Garden, my favorite !

"Did you try the Krusovice?"

tomboy - I'm almost positive we did (we tried a multitude of pivos in the CR), I just don't remember where. To refresh my memory, however, I went on the Bev-Mo website, and they had Krusovice dark, so I think I will purchase some. I love research!

sarge - thanks for the websites. I get thirsty just looking at them.

MTT: We haven't seen it for a while, but did buy Urquell at Trader Joe's (I don't think it was dark tho). They always have Czech beer (Brou Czech--they have a good dark). I can't remember the name of the other beer we have bought and liked. All are reasonably priced. Good luck!

Glad you enjoyed Prague. We consider it one of our favorite European cities. Thanks for the memories!

Tom -- I love your trip report (my first but I'll look for others). Not only did I laugh out loud, but I truly had tears flowing from laughing so hard. Thanks.
Sally

Tom, hope to read more, we want to do a similar trip and am enjoying your adventures and experiences!

Hi sarge---
I deleted one of your posts because Tom reported it was breaking the page.

It wasn't doing it on mine but here it is, but as Tom has worked so hard on this report (which is great Tom, by the way), I thought I'd do my best to make it look as good as possible!

http://tinyurl.com/6lzh39

The post above will link you to the review of Pilsner Urquell.

Sorry Katie! I didn't mean to break anyone's page!

Love Tom's report!

SORRY TOM!

sarge, no problem (I needed the break anyway as Tracy & I celebrated our anniversary last week and I also had a business trip).

I'm having a Pilsner in your honor as I write the next installment tonight, which I'll finish early tomorrow morning (Pilsner willing). You never realize how much you do on a trip until you try and recap it.

DAY FIVE – SWEET PEACOCK, TRACY FINALLY GETS HER GARDENS, A FAREWELL TO ARM, IS THAT THE EIFFEL TOWER, AND AU REVOIR TO PRAGUE

Although I slept well, I woke up at 6:40 a.m. with a case of Anthophobia, which is the abnormal and persistent fear of flowers. It is a phobia that only occurs for me when Tracy and I visit Europe.

Every vacation, I promise Tracy we will find some nice and colorful gardens, and invariably every trip we had taken in the past seven years, the gardens I chose turned out to be terrible. Whether it be weather or just plain, bad maintenance, I could not catch a garden break.

Just before we visited Chateau Villandry in the Loire, there was a heat wave that scorched the gardens. When we stopped by the Villa Garzoni Garden in Collodi, Italy, it was a dilapidated mess. The more I tried, the worse my garden excursions became.

But, since I am a San Diego Padres’ fan, adversity lies around every corner, and I continued in my quest to find some beautiful gardens for Tracy to enjoy.

Our first stop on our final morning in Prague was to be the Valdštejnský Palác Zahrada (Wallenstein Palace Garden), located only about five minutes from the apartment. After reading about the palace, I decided that if the gardens were a bust, at least we could witness the fountain with the woman sprouting water from her breasts. One way or another there was going to be a bust.

Incredibly as we walked in, there were gardens, but alas only a few flowers were blooming, yet the setting was stunning. I glanced over at Tracy, who actually had a smile on her face at a garden. A garden I chose! I think the Day One “Death March” fiasco was now officially a thing of the past.

Around one section of the gardens, the palace has a unique, faux grotto wall that has stalactites and, if you look closely, you will swear there are skulls and other odd looking things in there, too. It’s hard to describe, but cool to look at.

As we strolled the large grounds, suddenly a blood-curdling shriek came from the corner of the far garden, located near a pond. I had not heard a scream like that since a woman saw me with my shirt off at the pool in 2005.

We rushed over to see what the commotion was all about and came upon the most beautiful, blue peacock strutting his stuff. He was gorgeous, and he knew it! Angelina Jolie doesn’t pose this well for photos, and there were plenty of tourista paparazzi filling up their memory cards with pictures of this guy, who mugged and screamed for about 20 minutes.

We exited the palace and ostensibly headed for the river. It was then I remembered overhearing a conversation at one of our watering holes about the Palacove zahrady pod Prazskym hradem (Gardens Below The Prague Castle). Sure enough, on the left, there was the little entrance.

It only cost a few euros apiece to go in, and as we entered Kim, Mary and Tracy looked at me with amazement. “This place actually has real flowers,” Mary said. Yes, I was riding a tour guide high, ladies and gentlemen.

The gardens were terraced. Roses, lavender, peonies, grape ivy, climbing hydrangeas and other beautiful flowers met us at each turn and every climb. Near the top of the gardens we looked out over the red roofs of Prague. There is an entrance to the castle at the top, too. The Gardens Below Prague Castle was an unexpected pleasure and only confirms my belief that the best ideas come to you while drinking.

It was only mid-morning, and we crossed the river to head over to Staromestské Námestí to see a few churches we had wanted to visit.

First, we made a quick detour to the Kláster sv. Anezky Ceské (St. Agnes Convent). We did not take a tour, but we did visit some empty rooms, which gave us a feel for the place. I hope to return here.

On the way out, as we headed to the Old Town, we made reservations at a restaurant that looked nice, and I had read some good reviews about it.

It was nearly noon, and I wanted to hurry over to the Kostel Sv. Jakuba (Church of St. James). We scurried through the Tynsky Dvur (Ungelt Courtyard), which has a number of cute eating establishments, and got to the church in time to see its main attraction, the arm of some poor guy who tried to steal the jewels off the Sacred Virgin Mary, located near the altar.

One of the stories I had read said that the Virgin Mary actually grabbed his arm, and the monks then cut his arm off. The shriveled and rather disgusting looking arm now resides to the left of the door when you leave.

Back in Old Town, the four of us stepped inside the Kostel Panny Marie pred Tynem (Church of Our Lady Before Tyn). This church started out Catholic and then became the main church of the Hussite movement. As stated earlier, the entrance is truly weird because of the building constructed in front of it, but the inside is quite beautiful.

Even witnessing the severed arm earlier could not take away our ravenous appetite, so we walked toward the street with the public market (Havelská). Kim had set a rule that we could not eat at a restaurant that showed pictures of the food, but since by now we were incredibly hungry, we broke the rule and sat down at U Radnickych.

Fortunately, Kim’s rule did not apply to this restaurant, and we had a terrific lunch. I loved the goulash soup in a rye bread bowl.

After lunch, we bade farewell to Steven (I mean Pasquale) and made our way back to Mala Strana. We picked up a quick gelato, walked across the Charles Bridge, rubbed old St. WHN’s gold again, and headed toward the Petrin Hill funicular.

On the way, we came upon yet another church. Tracy recognized it from my pre-trip notes as The Church of St. Mary The Victorious, aka “The Church of the Bambino.”

“I didn’t know babe Ruth was that big in the Czech Republic,” I replied. Kim, Mary and could only shrug knowing they still had 23 days with me.

Actually, the nickname comes from the fact that this is the home of one of Prague’s most famous religious artifact, the Prazské Jezulátko (Infant Jesus of Prague) or “Bambino.”

The Nuns from a nearby convent change the Bambino’s outfit (although I saw no Yankee uniform) on a regular basis (rather habit forming, don’t you think?) There is a museum of those outfits on the second floor.

Now it was off to The Petrin (don’t call me Eiffel) Tower. We got on the funicular to the top of the hill where the fake Eiffel stands, and about 2/3 of the way up we saw a place we knew we would be sitting at soon, an outside patio serving delicious, refreshing pivo.

It cost 26 Kč for the round trip, and once on top, you have 75 minutes to explore the grounds and climb to the top of the tower (299 steps). There are lovely rose gardens at the top of the hill (I’m thinking I’ve spoiled Tracy for any subsequent trips). The troops were weary, so I took one for the team and climbed the tower by myself. The views were spectacular.

We decided to pass up the Museum of Jára Cimrman, the Genius Who Did Not Become Famous, in deference to our now hourly thirst for beer.

We made the 75-minute deadline with minutes to spare and hopped on the funicular and rode it down 1/3 of the way to the Prague Pivoland (not its real name) stop. It was very relaxing to sit and reflect on our time in Prague. We agreed Prague more than lived up to its advanced biling.

Yes, the city was crowded, but as a group we have a pretty good ability to block out the crowds and enjoy a city for its obvious virtues, of which Prague has many. I remember reading on one post that a couple visited Prague and, after one day, became bored and wanted to move on. With apologies, they obviously must have been visiting Prague, Nebraska.

Even with my frenetic pace, we had not seen everything. It was at that point that Tracy said, “I thought we were going to see the Loreta (Loreto Palace).”

I knew it closed at 4:30, and there was no chance we could make it. All I could say was, “We’ll get back, Loreta.”

Before dinner, we made our last appearance at The Noble Wine Cellar, and fortunately I was not a klutz because on this evening the dreaded candle I had knocked over each time was lit. Our last wine was a repeat of the Dornfelder 2006 late harvest vino. Kim, Mary, Tracy and I toasted our luck for the 322nd time.

We scooted across the bridge again, and dined for our last Prague meal at Chez Marcel, a French restaurant in Old Town. My escargot starter and entrée of balsamic duck breast with mashed potatoes would usually be enough to satisfy me, but an apple tart with raspberry and chocolate drizzle sucked me into “The Vortex of Unwanted Calories.” It was well worth the journey.

Kim, however, ordered the dessert du jour that had the group shouting, “Mon Dieu!” His chocolate/orange mousse with just the right amount of Grand Marnier was merveilleux. As usual, the plating of every dish at this meal was superb.

Our waiter had been very friendly, and it turned out he was from Algiers. We had already met our Bolivian waiter earlier in the trip, Pasquale (aka Steven) was originally from Italy and numerous others we had encountered along the way here in Prague were from somewhere else.

On that topic, in a moment of philosophical creativity as we all sipped our final drops of vin rouge, Kim sat back in his chair and mused, “The diversity of cuisine in Prague reflects the diversity of nationalities and cultures.”

As we pondered his sage ramblings, we took one more spin (and with the amount of wine we had consumed, spin was the operative word) around Staromestské Námestí, looked up at the beautiful Tyn Church and walked back to the apartment.

Although it was late, we were very excited, because tomorrow we would venture into the Czech countryside for one day and one night in Cesky Krumlov, a town that elevates cute to an entirely new level.

COMING UP: DAY SIX – BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY, BEAR WITH ME, IS SHE ALIVE OR IS SHE MEMOREX, WHERE IS EVERYBODY, THE RESTAURANT AT THE BOTTOM OF THE WORLD AND THE WEDDING CRASHERS

“The Vortex of Unwanted Calories.”

This describes many of my travel adventures! I may have to borrow this line!

Looking forward to more!

As usual, your trip report is a delight to read. Hilarious and informative...can't wait for the rest!

Tracy

" . . confirms my belief that the best ideas come to you while drinking."

And you are the living proof!

I was reading this while holding my new grandson and had to be careful not to laugh so loudly - difficult, indeed!

. . confirms my belief that the best ideas come to you while drinking."

That is true for ideas, but not for reading my notes.

CORRECTION: Earlier in the report I said we parked our car at Hotel Constance in Mala Strana. This little, boutique-type hotel is actually spelled Constans. Very cute hotel, but not inexpensive by any means.

Both Czechy and Hungary are good places to eat "French" specialties like snails and frog legs because actually a hefty percentage of those items consumed in France is imported from those countries. Even though France exports some, it does not produce enough for local consumption.

Tom. Love your report. I thought I was the only one who sang "Samon chanted evening." THanks for posting this! pp

My goodness Tom, I'm sitting at my desk snatching paragraphs of your trip report while I should be working (just back today from vac. myself - you know what thats like) and I'm stifling chuckles and guffaws at your humourous writings. Well done ! Your trips and adventures are a hoot and we are all fortunate to be able to share in them.

Thanks and keep up the good work.

Altho all have been very good, I think that last installment was your best. Perhaps you're now warmed up and have hit your writing stride! Keep 'er coming.

BTW, do you take copious notes at each stop, have a photographic memory, and/or refer to guidebooks to be able to give us the wonderful historical anecdotes along with the fun facts to know and tell?

Tom:


went into the Trader Joe's in Sherman Oaks, asked for Urquell..the clerk said they didn't have any, but that I was the third person who asked for it in the past week, and he's going to see about ordering some !

Your reporting has won over many new folks, but many of the older crowd, too, including me...keep on churning it out. Need more pix, too.

As you know, we've had a gentle little quake today...a mere 5.8.

stu T.

Bookmarking so that I can continue to follow the saga... Keep it coming!

"BTW, do you take copious notes at each stop, have a photographic memory, and/or refer to guidebooks to be able to give us the wonderful historical anecdotes along with the fun facts to know and tell?"

I do an extensive pre-plan (maybe too extensive) so I have the names and facts of places we will try and see on our trip. Then, of course, we get more historical tidbits as we travel.

Tracy takes most of the detailed notes, and then my memory takes over with the more goofy details of the day. Depending on how much pivo or vino we consume often times determines how much I remember.

It's funny, I can't remember some of the things I did this past weekend, but I can recall a particular day from a trip in 2001 vividly. It's hard to explain.

Just found this and am enjoying it immensely. Thank you for the information--and the entertainment. How lovely that you all travel so well together.

Exactly Tom, I get the same comments about remembering details from trips. It is because of the time you spend before the trip and the anticipation. Then, it is reinforcing it all with your photos for years after the trip. It is all so vivid.

DAY SIX – BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY, BEAR WITH ME, IS SHE ALIVE OR IS SHE MEMOREX, WHERE IS EVERYBODY, THE RESTAURANT AT THE BOTTOM OF THE WORLD AND THE WEDDING CRASHERS

There was less than hour left for us in Prague, but that did not deter me from one last goal; two chocolate-filled croissants down the street. Fortified by those incredible treats and a double espresso, I was ready for the drive to Cesky Krumlov.

Pasquale met us at the apartment, gave Tracy and Mary a little parting gift (boxes of chocolates) and we took to the streets of Prague, heading out of town. Thankfully, there were no mishaps, and driving out of Prague was quite easy.

Lady G had been programmed, and she was on top of her game (except for the time she wanted me to make a sudden U-turn as I was barreling down the highway toward CK). I had toyed with the notion of stopping at one of the many castles that dot the landscape (Hrad Karlštejn, Konopiště, Orlik or Zvíkov), but decided that it would be best to get to CK and enjoy what had been touted as “one of Bohemia’s prettiest towns.” The castles would have to wait for another trip.

The Czech roads were great and, especially for a Southern Californian, the traffic was non-existent. In exactly two hours and twenty minutes we were driving over the bridge and parking in front of our home for the evening, the Hotel Konvice.

When I booked Hotel Konvice, the only space available was an apartment/suite with two bedrooms on the top floor. I had decided that since we would only be six days into the trip by the time we arrived, the four of us would still be on speaking terms, so I took a chance on it.

When we got up to the room, there was one large bedroom and one small bedroom. The larger room was appointed nicely and had a big bed with down comforters.

The smaller room contained two single beds. Kim and Mary volunteered to be Rob and Laura Petrie for the evening and sleep in the single beds.

Our balcony looked out onto the Krumlovský Zámek (Krumlov Castle). The bathroom was new and large, even by U.S. standards. It had a shower with a separate tub, and much to Tracy’s pleasure, fluffy towels. It would be our best bathroom of the trip, for what that is worth.

After depositing the luggage, we parked the car on the other side of town, but CK being a pretty small place, the walk back to the hotel was only about ten minutes. That walk confirmed what has been stated by so many; Cesky Krumlov is, to quote my friend Kim, “felony cute.”

The weather gods shone down upon us again this day, so we searched for a lunch spot outside and found a place by the name of U Dwau Marii. By coincidence (or perhaps fate), in English it translates to “At the Two Marys”!

“Wow, how about that Kim, now you have three Marys?” I said. I don’t believe he answered.

We sat at an outdoor table along the riverbank looking up at the castle. You could not draw up a better scenario than what we were experiencing…and it would just keep getting better.

Our waiter, decked out in peasant attire, explained some of the more interesting dishes on the menu, and we were about ready to embark on our first of what was to be two great Cesky Krumlov meals. Our lunch would be a feast that featured traditional, Bohemian cuisine that was popular during the middle ages. Since we are all middle aged, we felt this would be perfect.

Every dish was tasty from Kim’s trout to Mary and Tracy’s chicken with tarragon potatoes.

Since the beginning of our trip, we had marked down “Wow” dishes, and I was the lucky recipient this time. I ordered the “Old Bohemian Feast.” As I watched the ducks swimming on the river and people canoeing under beautiful, blue skies, I devoured roasted chicken with a millet and ham casserole. I really wanted to try the Žahour (sweet dumplings in a blueberry sauce), but my stomach said “no.”

We shed some of those calories on our walk up to the castle, which was turned over to the state in 1949. It was in beautiful condition, as were the four of us by now from all of our walking in Prague.

As we headed into the castle area, down in the moat surrounding it was a sight that might enthrall some, but to me, was a sad sight. There, on a very warm day, were Katrina, Maria and Kov, the castle brown bears, munching on some unidentifiable foodstuff. They have been there since 1986, which must be tough for them to bear.

The only method to tour the castle is with a guide (about $17 each), so we bought our tickets and wandered the grounds for a while before it started.

The tour lasts an hour, and, unfortunately, ours was lead by a young woman who came straight out of the movie “Invasion of The Body Snatchers.” There was no emotion as she stated the facts about the castle and warned us not to touch anything. She constantly reminded us that if we took pictures we would be turned into huge pods (ok, I made the last part up). Her voice never changed pitch for the entire hour.

In her defense, as it turned out, this was the only English she knew, because when someone asked her a question, she could only shrug her shoulders. Granted, she knows a lot more English than we know Czech, however I would think at a tourist sight like this, the castle could do a little better job in hiring.

As we walked through the castle, there were ominous signs for the future of Katrina, Maria and Kov. In many of the rooms, the floors were partially covered by bearskin rugs. I wanted to warn the three bears on the way out, but figured they didn’t understand English.

After the tour, Tracy said, “Hey, they have gardens here, too.” I had created a monster.

Tracy, Kim and Mary hiked up to the gardens, and after taking some photos for about ten minutes, I hiked up to meet them. They were nowhere to be found. Six days into the trip, and they were already trying to ditch me. It turned out they had just left the gardens by another exit, so the team was still intact.

I was the only fool to climb the 162 steps to the top of the tower (about $2). The last three flights were a little more precarious than I like, but I lived to tell the tale.

For the rest of the afternoon, we just walked around Cesky Krumlov. Had we had just a little more time, it would have been fun to canoe, raft or kayak on the river that weaves itself throughout CK.

Because of a post I had read on Fodor’s before we left, when we got to the main square I searched for a Chinese restaurant; not because I wanted to dine there, but because nearby was a set of stairs that I wanted to explore.

Sure enough, as I walked closer, there was the sign for Pivna KataKomby, and the door was ajar. I told Tracy that I would be right back and started to descend the dark, spiral staircase that lead to, well I didn’t know where I was headed.

At the bottom of the staircase there in front of me was another world. There was a beautiful bar with tables in one room and then I entered another room, and another, and another, all in a surreal, cave-like setting (the bears would have loved it). In the back, there was a large wood-burning pit where the restaurant’s grilled specialties are cooked.

As I neared the staircase to go back up, I heard a voice from above (no, not that one, it was Tracy). “Tom, are you ok?” she asked.

I told her I was more than ‘ok’ and that I had found the spot where I wanted to have dinner.

On the walk back to the hotel, we stopped by the Church of St. Vitus.

We decided on an early dinner, so Tracy and I made our way back to Pivni KataKomby a little before 7 p.m., with Kim and Mary joining us a short time later. We were seated next to the dumbwaiter, which for some might be vexing, but for us afforded the opportunity to get a closer glimpse of how a place like this functions.

Our two waitresses spoke no English, which just gave a more authentic feel to the restaurant. The grill was fired up in the back, and we were fired up to try some of the unique menu items.

Now, we are no foodies by any stretch, but as the evening progressed, we all realized we had stumbled upon something very special.

We shared an appetizer of crispy, fried bacon and onions that was delicious. It contained fried chunks of pork with white onions (al dente), seasoned with lots of black pepper. It was served with gherkins and salad.

I had ordered goulash soup, but it didn’t come, so it was on to the main courses, and every dish was plated so nicely that Kim took pictures of each culinary delight (you’ll have to wait for the blog to see them) before we started eating. As spectacular as they looked, they were even more terrific to consume.

I had the grilled skewer of chicken, pork and beef with fresh peppers and salad.

Mary had the specialty of the house, which was called a “Krumburger.” It was a huge hamburger patty that lay on a bed of fresh cole slaw. She also had a side dish of a baked potato with herbed crème fraîche.

Tracy ordered a pork tenderloin served “English-style.’ It came with asparagus, artichokes and peppers.

Kim’s grilled lemon chicken on a bed of arugula, peppers, tomato relish and grilled garlic bread was good, but his side dish, “gratin au potatoes,” garnered the evening’s “Wow” award.

These potatoes were absolutely amazing, and we all know because we all tried them. We figured there had to be about 50 thin layers of potatoes, with a touch of garlic and Parmesan cheese. It had a golden, crunchy top.

After we finished, I said, “Thank God they forgot the goulash soup. I can’t eat another thing.” As if on cue, our waitresses showed up with, you guessed it, my goulash soup. Being the consummate guest and a glutton for punishment (not to mention just a plain, old glutton), I ate all the soup and some of the rye bread, too.

All that food including five beers, one glass of red wine, two Campari, plus two bottles of 2005 Modry vino from Portugal (no driving tonight kids), came to 2,316 Kč., or about $150 plus tip.

As we ended our meal, two couples from Canada who were on a two-month holiday (and we thought we were slackers) stopped by the table and we chatted for quite some time. There was an easier exit than the way we had entered, which was fortunate due to our expanded waistlines.

When we wandered Horní Street (just doesn’t sound right, does it?), we heard a band blaring from the terrace of the Hotel Ruze. “Let’s check it out,” Mary said.

It seemed there was a wedding reception going on with free food and free booze for any interloper who stumbled in from out on the street. I looked at Kim. Kim looked at me, and we decided not to partake of the free goodies. Maturity does have its downside.

We could hear the band just as well from the bar located a short distance from the Ruze, so we made our way to the patio overlooking the river, and there were those friendly Canucks again.

As you could tell by our dinner choices, one more cocktail was more than enough for all in our group. Back at the hotel, we opened the door to our balcony and there was a stunning view of the Cesky Castle, a perfect ending to what was a perfectly great day.

But there would be no rest for this weary group of travelers. Tomorrow we would once again hit the roads of the Czech countryside that would lead us to Olomouc and an ever-so-slight confrontation between a rental car and an immovable object.

COMING UP: DAY SEVEN – THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED, WATCH OUT FOR THAT POLE (AND WE’RE NOT EVEN IN POLAND YET), FINDING MAGIC CREAM, KIM’S DEPARTURE IS CONFIRMED AND THE DINNER SHUT OUT

I've always regretted that we didn't make it to CK (time didn't allow) and now I'm really sorry!!

The description of all the wonderful food has me almost drooling. Every mention of a dumpling, some wonderfully prepared pork and the pivo, pivo, pivo takes me back to my childhood, and the meals my Hungarian grandma cooked and my Czech grandfather who worked in breweries all his life.

Thank you Tom.

Great stuff Tom, You have to love CK. We were there in 1999 and I think we paid about $12 for dinner for two---that was before the Euro and 9/11.

Bob:

once again....we were in CK in 1993 and were pleasantly shocked at the ridiculously inexpensive (and not too edible)meals...and lodgings. This was long before CzRep was descended upon by hordes of tourists from the west. I told you, we seem to cross paths everywhere.

stu T.

I went back through some old trip reports and I would be remiss if I did not thank both turnip and shandy, who gave me the heads up in their reports on the place that would turn out to be the fantastic Pivni KataKomby in CK.

OMG, I thought i'd bust a gut when I read about the CK tour guide turning you into pods if you took pictures. What a great post! Keep writing. I'm going to Czech Republic and Cesky Krumlov.

Our lunch would be a feast that featured traditional, Bohemian cuisine that was popular during the middle ages. Since we are all middle aged, we felt this would be perfect.

Thank you for a great read!!! Truly the editors should put all these trip reports in a book...

As an aside, both in the Czech Republic and Poland, most places are not very keen about dispensing change. If you think that Tracy gives me "the look", you should have seen the look I got from one of the places in Prague where we purchased coffee, and I tried to give her more than what we owed (and it wasn't even outrageously extra).

Unfortunately, many of the "Bank In The Boxes" do not give you small bills. On a couple of occasions, we stopped inside a bank to get smaller bills.

What a fabulous trip report. Thank you so much for sharing and making it OH so enjoyable to read. I cant wait for more.

(looking at watch) tick tick tick! It's been days since another installment, we are all waiting impatiently!

I've really been enjoying your quirky humor and fantastic narrative, maitaitom. I absolutely love the 'vortex of unwanted calories!' And the middle ages food

Oh, boy! Oh boy! another Maitaitom saga! Please keep it coming!

Love your inimitable writing style and you've brought back so many memories!

It's easier to get into Prague Castle from the other side - no steps. We attended a concert in the Spanish(?) Room, an absolutely gorgeous room in the Castle and we got there through the back.

Kutna Hora - what memories! There are no road signs that could be understood and we were kindly led by car by a Chinese restaurant owner to the boneyard church. We stayed in the "best" hotel in town, which turned out to be next to the boneyard church. When asked if they had secured parking, they said "yes, of course". Turned out it was the backyard of the hotel with weeds as tall as the car and there was a vicious dog hiding amid the weeds. Well, it certainly was a secure spot!

Sorry you missed Zhikov Castle, which ranks as one of my favorite castles in Europe.

Soo looking forward to your next installment!

"It's easier to get into Prague Castle from the other side - no steps. "


shh. Don't tell Tracy.

Yes, the report is coming slowly. This darned work thing really cuts into my travel-reliving time. I'll try and do the next installment after work today. Thanks.

Perhaps we need to contact maitaitom's boss and let them know he simply needs enough paid leave to finish his report !

Seriously, do as you can, we are all looking forward to every tidbit!

DAY SEVEN – THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED, WATCH OUT FOR THAT POLE (AND WE’RE NOT EVEN IN POLAND), FINDING MAGIC CREAM, KIM’S DEPARTURE IS CONFIRMED AND THE DINNER SHUT OUT

Despite staying out late the night before and (perhaps) consuming one too many glasses of wine, I was up at exactly 6 a.m. I was trying to be quiet, but the floors were a tad creaky, which in turn made my wife a little cranky. “You’re going to wake up Kim and Mary,” she said.

As I made a few more fateful (and loud) steps she added, “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you wait in the car?” I think she was being sarcastic.

Eventually everyone awoke, we had a nice breakfast at the hotel and started on the road to Olomouc, our next stop, which is roughly about half way between CK and Krakow. About an hour outside of Cesky Krumlov, Lady G put us on the “road less traveled.” It was a little, two-lane road that took us into scenic, green rolling farmland.

We then went through Dvorce, which I hoped wasn’t some kind of evil foreshadowing. Then came my first driving faux pas.

In one little town, I attempted to pass what I thought were some parked cars. In reality, they were a group of polite, local drivers who were trying to allow a semi truck (that was now directly in front of me) to pass going the other direction.

Chagrined, I backed up from where I had come. The other drivers were looking at me like Tracy did earlier in the morning at the hotel.

Soon, the farmland turned to lush forest, and as we made our way through many cute towns, we all had one thought, “Where the Hell are we?”

But Lady G was right on and soon we were back on a major thoroughfare and, in less than four hours from leaving CK, we were in the heart of Olomouc. I made a right hand turn, and in about 100 yards, Lady G said, “You have reached your destination on the right.”

“Show off,” I thought.

Of course, she was correct, because on our right was the Vítejte v Penzionu Na Hradě, our lodging in Olomouc. Kim and Mary went up to their room, and Tracy went up to ours. As I was about to follow her, the man behind the desk said I had to turn the car around because I was headed the wrong way on a one-way street. I then made a fateful decision.

I could have driven around a few blocks and come down the street the correct way, or I could make a few sharp little turns, and just back up the street and park the correct way in front of the hotel. Sadly, I choose Option Two.

I made two little turns perfectly, but as I backed up toward the hotel, the car suddenly stopped and not by its own volition.

Meat Loaf might think that “Two Out Of Three Ain’t Bad,” but when it comes to parking, that phrase doesn’t work out so well.

In trying to not run over any of the local Olomoucan population, I instead had backed directly into a pole. In hindsight (something I obviously did not have while parking), I should have waited for one of my troop to help me, but I had thought, “What harm can I do while just parking?”

Tracy came out and saw that I was a little perturbed, but she was still on a Lady G high. Her first words were, “Wow, that Garmin was amazing. She knew exactly where we were.”

I replied, “Yeah, it would be nice if she knew where stationary posts are located, too.” Tracy looked at the car and shook her head in disbelief.

In an attempt to make things go quicker, I said, “I am an idiot.” Kim and Mary were now at the car, and sadly no one refuted my words.

Fortunately the damage to the car was minimal. The damage to my ego was slightly more.

We wandered through the Horní náměstí (Upper Square) and saw the Sloup Nejsvětější Trojice (Holy Trinity Column), which is the tallest plague column in Europe, and also walked by a couple of the many Baroque fountains that are in Olomouc.

Before seeing any more Olomouc sights, we needed food, and found a covered patio next to the Miklice Church. Lunch at the Potrefená Husa, which turned out to be a chain, wasn’t spectacular, but we didn’t care, and, hey, the pivo was good.

We wandered over to the Astronomical Clock, but alas the only time its tiny characters do the crazy little dance is at noon, so we missed it. The original astronomical clock had been damaged by retreating Nazis and was rebuilt by the early 1950s.

It was very hot, and we were all a little tired, so we meandered our different ways for a while, ducked into a couple of churches and stopped by a pharmacy. In a Paris 2006 Christmas flashback, there on the counter was a big sign that said, “Magic Cream,” the ointment that helped save our vacation two years ago.

Well, the sign really said “Voltaren” and it was only 167 Kč, so we bought a couple of tubes in case disaster struck on the trip. Fortunately, we never had to use it. We then returned to our comfortably air-conditioned rooms.

The Na Hradě is a clean, modern and no-smoking lodging option that is in a great location (well, except for that damned pole). It has a garden terrace, with a view of a church and a beautiful ivy, covered wall. It also had, as were soon to discover, its very own wine cellar.

After a nap, we told Kim and Mary we would meet them in the cellar, and the girl at the front desk walked us outside the hotel.

You enter via a small doorway entrance, which I, of course, became momentarily stuck in as I nearly stumbled down the stairs. I assured the girl that I had not been drinking, and we were lead inside. It was a peaceful and cool (both in look and temperature) oasis.

The prices of the wines we consumed were in the 200 - 450 Kč range. Our hostess/desk girl had also brought us some cheese and salami to go with our vino. Tracy and I toasted that it had been 18 years ago to that very day that we had met each other (not bad for an idiot, huh?). Tracy wrote down the names of the two wines we drank, but in looking at them, I don’t think my computer has enough memory to spell them completely.

As we sipped the wines with the unpronounceable names, Kim gave us some bad news. In two days, while we would be in Krakow, he would have to fly back to Los Angeles for a meeting (this guy will do anything for frequent flyer miles).

He would miss the last two days in Krakow and an afternoon and evening in Vienna, but if everything (including all his airline connections) went perfectly, he would meet us at the Vienna airport in time to catch our flight to Dubrovnik. It was enough to make us buy another bottle of wine.

We wandered back by the Potrefena Husa, and although we could sit down at the patio, they had more than an hour wait to get food service. Well, we really don’t like eating at the same place twice anyway, and since we found out that this was a chain, we were glad we got shut out there.

Kim and Mary weren’t that hungry and were pretty tired, so they went back to the room, but the Bottomless Pit Family (aka Tom and Tracy) needed some dinner.

We found Viktoria, a place filled with hip, young locals, and now, us. I had a delicious strip sirloin with onions and lots of hot red peppers. The Campari was going down easy on this night, too.

In what I thought was an uncommon fit of indecency, Tracy then blurted out, “Those sure are mini balls.” I was about to get very angry until she told me she was referring to the mozzarella balls on her Caprese salad. If you decide to eat at this restaurant, I also highly recommend the roasted potatoes.

Our week in the Czech Republic was almost over, and we would definitely like to return one day to do some future exploring of the countryside and drink pivo in Prague.

We decided to turn in early so we could get an early start to Krakow since Kim only had a couple of days to see the city. Plus, there is only so much Campari you can drink in an evening.

COMING UP: DAY EIGHT – CRACOWDAYS, A SHOT OF COUGH SYRUP PLEASE, HERE COMES THE BRIDE, WHERE DID THE OLD PEOPLE GO AND HIP TO BE (AT THE) SQUARE

Tom,

You will simply have to take a day or two off to finish the report for the rest of us. I'm glad that you share my enjoyment of the cellars, both in Cesky Krumlov and at the Na Hradě. Sorry about the pole at Na Hrade, we avoided that but Olomouc was the town where we managed to drive around the roundabout the wrong direction with the police watching Fortunately they were very lenient with us.

Loving your report.

Tom, As always, enjoying and savoring your report. Lots of laughing, thanks! You chould compile your reports into a book!

Tom, you and Tracy are invited to dinner any time you're in my neck of the woods (Dallas/Ft Worth)! Please don't disappoint me- I really need as much entertainment as I can get.

And I'll supply the pivo...

Shandy - thanks for the info on Na Hradě. We really liked that place, and yes, those cellars are terrific.

Irishface - I might just do that, although it might make War and Peace seem small by the time I end.

And sarge, you never know when Tracy and I might just show up for a pivo, so have that Urquell ready.

More later today (he said hopefully).

Thanks.

DAY EIGHT – CRACOWDAYS, A SHOT OF COUGH SYRUP PLEASE, HERE COMES THE BRIDE, WHERE DID THE OLD PEOPLE GO AND HIP TO BE (AT THE) SQUARE

We were up at seven and were greeted by a young man in the lobby of the Na Hradě, who was setting up a breakfast buffet. There was cereal, lunchmeats, cheese, sausage links, delicious pastries and he made us some very good egg dishes. Yes, this was breakfast heaven.

I asked Tracy why she didn’t do this for me every day, and she replied, “Because I work harder than you do.” You can forget a lot in just one week of traveling.

By 8:30 we were on the road to Kraków after filling up with Diesel (you can’t fool us every trip). It only took us a little more than three hours to drive to Kraków and our home for the next four nights (for almost all of us), the Cracowdays Apartments.

After parking on the street (and deftly avoiding every pole and Pole), we walked up to a set of big doors. There was graffiti in the area, but we had stayed in Trastevere before, so we are not quick to judge a book by its cover.

After meeting the Cracowdays’ folks at their office, they took us to our rooms, which were very nice, and there was also internet in the hallway for the guests. The rooms are very secure, the beds comfortable, the showers good, and we enjoyed our stay here.

The Cracowdays Apartments are located only about a ten-minute walk to Rynek Glówny, the largest medieval town square in Europe. The sky was a beautiful blue (as just about all our days had been so far) and the square was bustling with people, both walking and being taken around town by horse-drawn carriages. There were also lots of booths selling wares and many pork, food items.

At the time, I remember thinking how young the population looked. It would be a reoccurring theme.

Another reoccurring theme was this group’s capacity to eat…and eat often. Kim and Mary went off to find some food (Kim was forever searching for pig on a stick, and this was certainly a place to find one).

Tracy and I plopped down at a table overlooking Rynek Glówny. I was in my “when in Rome” mode, so when the waitress asked for my beverage choice, I immediately said, “Wódka.” In fact, I ordered cherry vodka.

“Yuck! It tastes like cough syrup,” Tracy said

Robitussin, straight up, baby!

The restaurant was named Grill 15/16, and when I ordered my second vodka, Tracy said, “Just because the name of the restaurant is 15/16 doesn’t mean you have to drink 15 or 16 vodkas.”

Boy, what a spoilsport.

As we sat there, the sound of a lone bugler started up from one of Kościół Mariacki’s (St. Mary’s Church) towers. Like an unfinished symphony, the song abruptly ends.

Tracy reminded me about the legend of the town watchman who sounded an alarm to warn Krakówians of an impending Tatar invasion. Unfortunately, for the town watchman, as he played the bugle a Tatar arrow zipped though his neck, thus prematurely ending his song.

Today, the bugle can be heard every hour, and believe me, you hear it from just about anywhere.

Lunch was fine, and we met back up with Kim and Mary to take a stroll though old Kraków. We began at the Barbakan, the town’s old fortification, and walked through the Brama Floriańska (Florian Gate).

We walked a few blocks down Ulica Florianska to the large St. Mary’s Church. Tickets to go inside are purchased across the alley. The interior of the church is very lovely, and we spent about 20 minutes or so wandering through it.

Another thing we noticed during our first few hours in Krakow, besides its youthful population, was that virtually no one was speaking English (although most of the Kraków locals we met certainly could). As a matter of fact, we had run into very few Americans so far on the trip.

We then walked by St. Adalbert’s, the oldest church in Krakow.

In the middle of the square is the Sukiennice or cloth hall, which was once a place where traveling merchants met. Today, it is a place where traveling vacationers can pick up a gift that nobody will really ever want.

Since Kim only had one more full day here, the group pressed on. We walked down Ulica Bracka, which to me sounded like one of “The Godfather’s” hired killers. But instead, this church led us to a man of the cloth, none other than Kraków’s favorite son (or I guess that would be father), Pope John-Paul II.

We stopped into Bazylika Sw. Franciszka (St Francis Basilica), which was John-Paul’s home church when he served as archbishop of Kraków, and then headed over to Grodzka Street, or as I called it Kebob Street. It seemed like you could get a kabob in every shop, but amazingly no one was hungry.

We walked down to Mary Magdalene Square, and thought we would look inside the The Church of Saints Peter and Paul. There was lots of construction in the area, and by the time we started heading in the direction of the church, out came a beaming bride and groom (well, the groom looked a little shaken).

We waited for them to all exit and then took a quick look inside. When we got out, and after trying to get in the wedding pictures, I started to cross the street.

“Where are you going?” Kim said.

“St. Andrews,” I replied.

Kim quickly retorted, “Well, you forgot your clubs.” I started counting the hours to his departure.

We wandered many of the arteries off the Rynek Gløwny and on one of them spotted a little Italian restaurant, Del Papa. We made a reservation for later that evening, and went back to Cracowdays to freshen up.

Back at Cracowdays, I ran into one of the managers who had helped set up the reservation with me, and she was just as nice in person as she had been in all our email correspondence. She apologized for the graffiti in the area, and since she did not look like a tagger, I told her she had no reason to apologize.

The area was not sketchy at all, with plenty of restaurants and shops lining the street leading back our street where the apartments were located. At no time did we feel unsafe, and I would highly recommend this as a place to stay.

On our walk to Del Papa that evening, we all commented on the youthful locals of Krakow. “Where did they put all the old people?” Mary joked.

I replied, “Maybe that Cesky Krumlov tour guide turned them all into giant pods, and they came back as young people.”

Kim was now counting the hours to his departure.

It was on to Del Papa. We had a very lovely, young, redheaded waitress, and Kim uttered his favorite line, “You know, she is felony cute.”

I had to remind Kim that anything he thought about her might also be construed as a felony, and we moved on to dinner.

The dishes at this restaurant were terrific as was, once again on our trip, the plating. I had tomato soup that was served in a bowl with basil lining the bottom, and the actual soup was poured from a teapot.

Tracy’s velvety, green pea soup was also poured from a teapot over a mound of pancetta and dill. Although Tracy said it looked lovely, green pea soup always reminds me of “The Exorcist.” I turned away before my head started spinning around.

All the dishes from ravioli stuffed with veal and mushroom sauce to a beef filet with balsamic reduction on a bed of arugula to gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce to grilled salmon with roasted shallots and balsamic reduction were delicious. Oh yeah, I topped it off with a nice panecotta and strawberries.

After Del Papa, we walked over to the square, which was packed on this Saturday night (and I’m guessing every Saturday night). Outside of us and a few other rumpled tourists, everyone on the square was young and good looking, with no one looking more than 35-years-old.

“Maybe there’s something to your pod theory,” Tracy said.

Kim and Mary walked back to the apartment, while Tracy and I made a quick stop at the Metropolitan Restauracja, where I am sure you are shocked to read we had a martini nightcap. The Metropolitan also was supposed to have a good breakfast, and we put that in our mental notes.

The next day would be Kim’s final full day in Kraków, and tomorrow would also be the day we made another interesting (well, I guess you’ll be the judge of that) observation about the local residents.

COMING UP - DAY NINE – THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, FOOLS ON THE HILL, MY LEGS ARE DRAGON, GOT MILK, FREE ART AND OUR POLL OF POLES

Tom,

I agree with the others, you should put al your reports into one book.

Also, you have had some great lines in all your reports. But I think my new favorite was in todays

"And after parking the car (and deftly avoiding every pole and Pole)" Too funny. I look forward to more sir.

Tom

Tom, terrific report, as always, thank you!

Appreciate the report on Del Papa in Krakow since it's on our list for our Christmas trip.

http://www.delpapa.pl/

"Appreciate the report on Del Papa in Krakow..."

That hot soup will taste very good on a cold Kraków night. I would suggest you make reservations when you get in town, as it got very crowded as the evening progressed.

No, I'm not dead yet.

DAY NINE – THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, FOOLS ON THE HILL, MY LEGS ARE DRAGON, GOT MILK, FREE ART AND OUR POLL OF POLES

As you have read, we (and especially me, the dessert king) had done a lot of eating the past week. For many months before the trip, I had been on the Jenny Craig diet (well, the modified Jenny Craig, which includes martinis, mai tais and the occasional chocolate flourless cake that Jenny doesn’t tell anyone about in her literature).

I had lost a little more than 30 pounds, so before the trip I had to get some new travel clothes because I was down two sizes from nine months before.

Well, when I tried on my new “Svelte Pants” on this beautiful Kraków Sunday morning, I came to a quick realization. “I think I’m dying,” I told Tracy.

Even though I had eaten like a pig for the last week, my new pants were now almost too big. I was shrinking like that guy in the movie. By the time that we reached Croatia, I surmised, I would be small enough to be eaten by a Dubrovnik mosquito.

Even Tracy was amazed. When we told Kim and Mary about my pants (on the way to finding some breakfast), Mary said, “Maybe you’re losing weight because we are walking ten miles a day.” I think she was still a little miffed over the first day in Prague.

To try and bulk up, we had some croissants, jelly filled pastries and some great espresso at a little place just about a block off Rynek Glówny. We were then on our way to walking up to Wawel Hill, home to more tourists than any other sight in Poland.

Before we hit Wawel Hill, however, I told the gang I wanted to stop at the Bar Mleczny. Looking at her watch, Tracy asked, “Isn’t it a tad too early for a drink?”

I said, “No, but don’t worry this is a milk bar.” I just wanted to stop in to see the place where Poles and tourists alike can get a cheap meal. The milk bars are supposedly subsidized by the Polish government. It was the cheapest bottled water we bought on the entire trip.

We walked through the Heraldic Gate and passed Wawel Cathedral. We couldn’t go in to the cathedral until 12:30 because they were having Sunday Mass, so we toured the beautiful grounds and took pictures of the unique exterior of the cathedral, with its two domed chapels.

After wandering around the grounds, we saw the entrance to Smocza Jama (The Dragon’s Den), a route that (for 3 zloty) would take us through some caverns down to the Vistula River and the monument to Smok Wawelski, whose name sounds like a jazz musician, but is really a famous dragon in Polish folk history.

Supposedly this dragon liked devouring girls and was only happy if the townspeople left a young girl in front of the cave every month. This didn’t go over too well with the townspeople, especially, I would assume, young girls. Finally, some guy stuffed a lamb with sulpher and left it outside the cave.

Smok the not-so-magic dragon ate the lamb, which, of course, made him thirsty. No matter how much water the Smokmeister drank, he could not get full, so he started to drink from the river. After drinking about half the river, Smok did what most dragons do after drinking half a river…he exploded. Coincidentally, I felt the same way after my panecotta from the night before.

After 135 steps down to see the dragon monument, we were a little draggin’ ourselves, but we made it and were instantly approached by a beautiful Krakówian woman. I thought she was going to commend me on my new, buff body, but instead she started shilling for a boat ride on the river. Being the tourists that we are, we took her up on the offer.

Actually, since it was a hot day and there was still an hour until the cathedral opened, the boat ride turned out to be the perfect call.

By the time the boat ride ended, and we walked up to the entrance of the cathedral, it was 12:18. Why do I know that? Because there was no one yet in line for the cathedral, which seemed odd to us, I asked the girl at the entrance if it opened to the public at 12:30, and she said, “Yes, it will open in ten minutes.”

In five minutes the line that had been non-existent only minutes before had swelled to way more than 100. Once again our timing had been impeccable (and fortuitous).

If you are into Baroque memorials and tombs, Wawel Cathedral is your place. Kasmimierz the Great and St. Jadwiga are two of the tombs with a view here.

We walked around for about half an hour and then headed back toward Old Town, bought a Pope Paul Gold Coin and looked for a lunch spot, which we found a little off the main square. Across the street from the German Embassy, we lunched at The Tram Grill.

Although supposedly open at 1 p.m., no one was there to greet us and the area was roped off, but as soon as we arrived a head popped out, and we were shown to our table on the terrace. First we get the head of the line at the cathedral, and now the restaurant magically opens once we arrive.

After downing some goulash soup and salads, the group was back on its way to seeing more Kraków attractions like the Wyspianski Museum. We wanted to see some of the stained glass from the man who had created the stained glass in St. Francis Basilica.

Personally, I found this place to be boring. This is always the first symptom of “Museum Overload,” but that did not deter us from attempting to find the Muzeum Czartoryskich after leaving.

Guidebooks showed the museum would be closed by the time we arrived, but Kim really wanted to go, so we gave it a try. We had been lucky to be first at the cathedral and the restaurant opened for us, so maybe the museum would stay open late for us since we were on a Kraków roll.

Well, not only was it open; it was free on Sunday. This museum was supposed to house a Rembrandt and a Da Vinci, but only Da Vinci’s Lady With Ermine was on display. Although not an art aficionado, I found this oil painting quite spectacular, as did the rest of our group.

By the time we left it was after 4 p.m., which means…martini time. We had walked by the Bunkier Café in the Planty with a nice outdoor patio, and it was the perfect place to plop down for a bit.

Being a product of the 60s, I had to try a drink made from Vodka, Blue Curacao and limeade called The Aquarius, and it certainly put me in the Fifth Dimension. The place was packed, and outside of us, there was no English to be heard anywhere.

As we downed our libations, Kim and I started commenting on the women of Kraków. We were very effusive with our praise of the statuesque beauties of Kraków, perhaps too much, because then Mary and Tracy started waxing eloquently about the men of Kraków.

In our very unofficial poll about Poles, although we are from the land of the beautiful people, Southern California; the real beautiful people were right here in Kraków. I told Kim, if were 30 and single, this would be a nice place to live.

We needed a little nap before dinner, and then headed out to the Bodega Marqués at Slawkowska 12. Since Kim and Mary had just built a house in Bodega Bay, California, we thought the kismet of the thing would work…and it did.

It was a gorgeous, warm evening, so we dined on the street patio. The waitress took me to the back cellar to pick out some vino for the evening, a 2004 Sumarroca Syrlot (a Spanish Syrah/Merlot blend that was so good that we had to buy two bottles).

The wine went very well with my Spanish sirloin steak with gorgonzola and roasted potato. Mary had a spiced chicken grilled with sliced roasted potatoes while Kim (Caesar salad with chicken) and Tracy (salad with goat cheese, bacon and pine nuts) took the healthy route.

After a walk around the square, Kim and Mary took off for the apartment, while Tracy and I headed back to the Metropolitan for (in unison) a nightcap. An espresso martini and a Polish cocktail of cherry vodka and grapefruit juice later, we followed them back to the apartment.

Tomorrow, we would bid farewell to our friend Kim, yet Mary, Tracy and I had two full days together left in Kraków. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought, “What could one guy do with two women?” Hmmm.

COMING UP - DAY NINE – GOODBYE KIM, GIVE ME YOUR DIRTY LAUNDRY, JEWISH QUARTER & THE NEW MRS. MAITAI, “YOU CAN’T GO UP THERE” AND THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA

Glad to have you back and writing again!

<<...only Da Vinci’s Lady With Ermine was on display. Although not an art aficionado, I found this oil painting quite spectacular, as did the rest of our group.>>

I wholeheartedly agree! We had the pleasure of viewing this painting at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, as part of a temporary exhibit.

We've not been to Poland, but you're making it sound very tempting.

"Glad to have you back and writing again!"

Slowly, but surely. At least I've narrowed down our picture selection to less than 500 from the original 2,000 or so photos we all took.

"We've not been to Poland, but you're making it sound very tempting"

Krakow was cool. I hope to return some day to see even more changes that will take place there and to explore the Polish countryside.

Waiting for more Tom. You guys sounds like a fun group.

I hope you don't mind if I ask, but are you still on Jenny Craig? I am thinking of joining for about a month.

Tom,

Waiting for more and looking foward to the photos.

Off subject, WTF is wrong with the Padres?

Tom

cafegoddess, yes still dabble with Jenny on occasion, just to keep stable at weight I am now (food is good, actually). I've kept the weight off for one year. Good luck!

Tom, it was nice being away for a month to not have to follow the stikin' Pads. I was much more into Croatian World Cup Soccer team, and now wear their hat instead of the Padres.

Finish Krakow and on to Vienna later today.

Looking forward to the next installment! Hope you had a great weekend, maitai

"Croatian World Cup Soccer team"

I meant Euro Cup team, but watch out for Croatia in 2010 World Cup. I will keep their hat in good shape.

DAY TEN – GOODBYE KIM, GIVE ME YOUR DIRTY LAUNDRY, JEWISH QUARTER & THE NEW MRS. MAITAI, “YOU CAN’T GO UP THERE” AND THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA

I awoke with a start remembering that the free parking on the street ended on Monday, and even with a mini-espresso martini hangover, I remembered that today was Monday. The apartment manager had told me that I should ask a man in a yellow vest about getting the necessary parking passes for the street. Instead, I ran into someone who looked much more interesting than a guy in a vest.

I asked a local (well, she was tall, young and really good looking, so I figured she was a local), where to buy the street parking ticket to put in my car. She was quite nice, spoke perfect English and, after coming to the sudden realization that I was still married, I quickly hurried to a little kiosk across the street where she said I could purchase the parking pass.

I proceeded to buy nine, one-hour slips that I had to fill out and put on the dash of the car. Speaking of dash, I had to dash back to the rental car and got there only minutes before I would have received a ticket.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kim headed for the curb to catch a taxi. He was about to set off on his own version of The Amazing Race.

Kim would fly to Chicago, change planes, fly to Los Angeles, sleep, then drive to Orange County, get his laundry done, work during the day, make an important speech that night, sleep, drive back to L.A., fly to New York, and change planes in order to get to Vienna by Thursday morning, where he would meet us in the nick of time to catch a flight to Dubrovnik.

It made me hungry just to think about it, so I said goodbye and grabbed a chocolate croissant and espresso.

Kim had made us think about our own laundry. It had been pretty hot during the first part of our journey, and we were going though clothes faster than Obama and McCain go through potential vice presidential nominees. Since we pack light, we were down to our last shirts. We could have done our own washing, but we gave ourselves a treat and took them nearby to the Betty Clean (the name of a place, not a person).

It wasn’t cheap, but the clothes would be ready in 24 hours, and this way we had more time to explore Krakow.

Tracy, Mary and I walked to Kazimierz (Jewish Quarter), about 20-30 minutes from Rynek Glówny. It was getting really hot, and we stopped at the High Synagogue, the Old Synagogue and the Old Cemetery. Then Old Tom said, “I think it’s time to eat.” I could see the gang was a little “churched and synagogued” out. We ate outside in the courtyard of Magma Restaurant. The food was nothing to write home about, but it is where I met the first of a few new “Mrs. Maitais.”

It is kind of a running joke that when Tracy sees me be a little more flirtatious than usual (hey, I’m not dead, yet!), she refers to that unfortunate woman as the “New Mrs. Maitai (not our real last name).” She is then quick to add, “And if she wants you, I am sure the two of you will be happy living in the back of your Honda.” Tracy has a way of spoiling the moment sometimes.

I had wanted to climb the Town Hall Tower in Rynek Glówny, so we walked back after lunchtime only to be informed that it would be closed this week. After Tracy and Mary completed the “Oh Boy, We Don’t Have to Climb The Tower” dance, we wandered the square, which was very crowded on a Monday afternoon.

We window-shopped for a short time, and Mary decided to head back to the apartment, while Tracy and I plopped down on the square at Da Pietro to have some late afternoon nourishment. We split a crostini misto and sipped some wine, Prosecco and a little Campari.

We actually got in a nap for about an hour back at the apartment, but since I was still shrinking, we headed out for dinner. We found a Brazilian place called Ipanema on Tomasza that had been recommended, and that stupid song started going around in my head for the next hour. (Damn, it’s in my head again).

Our waitress, dubbed the “Girl From Ipanema,” was a little off on this night, bringing a wrong dish to our table and forgetting my drink. As she kept going by the table without my drink, I kept obsessing on those stupid song lyrics, “Each time she passes, I go Aaagh!”

The food was not bad, but we had been pretty spoiled by the food throughout the Czech Republic and Poland, so it was a bit disappointing. However, the Blue Rio, a concoction of rum, blue Curacao, coconut milk and pineapple juice was pretty darned tasty.

We checked our watches, and by now we surmised Kim was running to catch his flight in Chicago, which turned out to be the truth. He made it with only seconds to spare.

Meanwhile, back in the Land of Travel, we meandered back to the apartment, via the Metropolitan, our new nightly hangout. The three of us had a decision to make for the next day; either travel to the Wielicza Salt Mine or visit Auschwitz. The vote was unanimous.

COMING UP - DAY ELEVEN – BREAKFAST IN AMERICA, SALT OF THE EARTH, A SHOCKING DEVELOPMENT AND A DINNER FOR THE AGES

DAY ELEVEN – BREAKFAST IN AMERICA, SALT OF THE EARTH, A SHOCKING DEVELOPMENT, THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT AND A DINNER FOR THE AGES

I don’t usually pass on places of historical significance, but we decided to forego Auschwitz in favor of the salt mines. The three of us have all been to concentration camps (I have been to a couple), and although Auschwitz is definitely deserving of a visit, on this day we opted for a more cheerful experience.

It was just like being in Los Angeles, as we sat down to our breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast while looking at U.S.A. Today. However, we were still in Kraków and eating at the Metropolitan, our late night drink rendezvous spot. I have to admit, a little home cookin’ tasted good.

After picking up our clothes and depositing them at the apartment, we walked over to the bus to take us to the Wielicza Salt Mine. The preliminary reports I had read online made the salt mines out to be a very touristy thing to do, but on this blazing, hot day, we were happy to go under the earth’s surface for a few hours. Plus, damnit, we are tourists!

Obviously, chivalry was dead on this day, because as I started to get in the bus, I turned around to see my two companions trailing me by almost 100 yards and the bus getting ready to leave. I looked like a mixed up football referee waving my hands and arms around in a disjointed manner that neither Mary nor Tracy could quite comprehend.

Fortunately, the bus waited and, as Tracy got on board, I heard the phrase that all husbands worldwide can relate to, “What the hell were you doing?”

“I was waving you both to hurry up,” I replied.

“Did you not see we were stuck at a red light? Did you want us to get run over by a bus? Don’t you know the damned bus runs every ten minutes?” Tracy said.

Looking at her not-so-happy countenance, I decided not to give the flip answer flittering precariously at the end of my tongue. Mary just watched, now missing her husband more than ever.

Tracy was a little hot under her collar, but soon Mary and I joined her, because on this scorching day the bus was a makeshift sauna. By the time our 25-minute bus ride had concluded, the sardines inside were fully cooked and ready to be served. I only weighed 90 pounds by this time (okay, I made that up).

The English tour cost 65 zloty, and we had a blast. First, we walked down 800 or so steps, with our tour guide making sure none in the group croaked before we reached the bottom. Although an English speaking tour, most of the group were not Americans. There were Swedes, Germans, Dutch, Aussies and Brits, but I only counted seven Americans.

Our tour guide was terrific, and her banter with all of us was entertaining. The temperature in the salt mine was a constant 57 degrees, which made it incredibly comfortable, even though I was in shorts.

I had paid the ten extra zloty for photo privileges (I don’t think they enforce that rule, but I never have a problem shelling out money to help these places keep preserved).

I took pictures of chandeliers made of salt, a salt Last Supper and a salt Pope John Paul II. I couldn’t figure out why, but suddenly I had a desire for a margarita.

Fortunately, we did not have to walk 800 steps up to leave. That was taken care of by an elevator that swiftly (and I mean swiftly) transports you back to the surface.

Somehow, Mary, Tracy and I got in a grouping with a bunch of Polish school children. These second and third grade kids all spoke English, and they were a bit on the precocious side.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the boys offer Mary a piece of gum. Another kid warned her that it would give her an electric jolt.

Always the kind traveling partner, Mary whispered to the kid that I would be happy to take a piece of gum, and then she surreptiously asked me to be a “volunteer” as the “unsuspecting” foil.

The boy reached over and asked me if I wanted a piece of gum. Playing dumb (one of my easier roles), I took hold of the “stick of gum” and, sure enough, I was presented with a very good shock.

In an act that Curly of The Three Stooges would have been proud of, I went though my fake gyrations much to all the kids’ amusement. It was only a moment later that I thought, “Geez, I really have no feelings in my fingers.” I don’t know the voltage of the gum, but that kid has a future in a Correctional Center somewhere.

We got in the elevator with about ten of the kids, and when it started its ascent to the top, the kids screamed at the top of their lungs. Their teachers tried to look angry with them, but even they could only laugh at their funny antics.

We were glad we chose this Unesco site. It was fun, it was educational and, thankfully, it was cool.

Back in Kraków after a much more comfortable bus ride, we had an afternoon snack at Café Botanica, just off Rynek Glówny. Mary had chicken curry in a tortilla with a small salad. Tracy’s eyes lit up at the coffee with ice cream, while I, being the real man that I am, enjoyed my quiche.

As we walked, we saw a restaurant that piqued our interest. It looked cute, and the menu looked great. I went in, asked for eight o’clock reservations, and they pointed at a table near the door, “You have the last table,” he said, and I am so glad we got it.

Guliwer, ul. Bracka 6, turned out to be one of the best restaurants of the trip. When we arrived, we were shown to our table, and true to his word, it was the only empty table in the house. As we sat dining, many were turned away.

This is one place where I will describe the dishes. They were that good!

Mary started with a wild mushroom soup (Polish specialty) and went on to Provencale-style chicken liver with onions and red peppers along with roasted potatoes.

I had a scrumptious veal cutlet with herb garlic butter, fried apples paired with some delicious pan-fried potatoes. It received a “Wow” rating. This would be a night for “Wows.”

Tracy’s first “Wow” dish was a refreshing, cold cucumber and watermelon soup. Her duck filet with a pepper sauce and celery salad with raisins and nuts was great, too.

With dishes like these, we could not stop. On to dessert!

I had a terrific Crepe Suzette, which was fabulous, but Tracy’s second “Wow” of the night came in the form of vanilla and chocolate crepes filled with ice cream, an orange-chocolate sauce, whipped cream and lots of orange zest. We were told the orange-chocolate sauce is made in-house.

All this and a bottle of 2004 Chateau Pertignos Bordeaux made this dinner most memorable.

I highly, highly recommend Guiwer for dinner. Simply tremendous!

We walked over to the Rynek trying to shed a few of the calories. Before Mary headed back, we found a small bar where the three of us had a final drink together to toast Kraków and its charms. After Mary departed, Tracy and I bade farewell to the Metropolitan bar and its array of martinis.

Over one last round of cocktails, Tracy and I tried to figure out where the “old people of Kraków” reside, and we decided we could turn this in to a Stephen King-type novel. The plot: “People over 40 are locked in Kraków basements all over town while their good looking, tall children roam the streets at night dining on great food and drinking potent libations.”

We all decided that Kraków would be a fun place to visit in ten years to see the further renovation of the city. If anyone is planning a trip to Poland, Kraków is well worth your time.

We needed to get to bed, because tomorrow would be the driving day from Hell. In order to get to Dubrovnik, we needed to catch a flight from Vienna, about a six-hour car ride from Krakow. Can a guy drive and survive six hours with two women and no other guys in the car? I would find out in only seven hours.

DAY TWELVE – THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY, IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO HELP A TOURIST, THE SHOWER DEATH TRAP, CHURCH OR SAILBOAT AND DINNER AT THE GROCERY STORE

tom, your reports are always a blast to read....filled with details but lots of fun as well. Can't wait for the Croatia installment!

Tracy

Such a great report, thanks, Maitai.
Are you going to have a blog with this report? I would love to see it consolidated.

Following your report avidly. We liked Cafe Botanica too and even my gay friend noted that Krakow was home to a lot of appetizing young women.

Taking a guess here that your next dinner (in Vienna) will be at Meinl am Graben...

"Are you going to have a blog with this report?"
seaurchin - yes, there will be a blog with many beautiful pictures (it's hard to take bad pictures with so many incredible sights) and then a video with music, and by then Tracy and I will be too old to travel because this is taking so long to complete.

"Taking a guess here that your next dinner (in Vienna) will be at Meinl am Graben..."
BTilke - Right on the money!

Day 12 shortly (Sadly, there will be 28 in total if I live to write them all).

Can't wait to hear about Dubrovnik. I am heading there soon, so I hope the Buza Bar has restocked since your departure. Great report!!

Maitaitom, Am only on day 6 but have to compliment you on your use of diacritical marks (that is assuming they are done correctly-har har). Where did you find them? Has someone else asked you this already? If so, I'll find the answer later.
How long have you been married? My hub says I do the "look" also. We actually found anniversary card referring to it. After only 10 years, he says I mastered it. At 30 years, I can do it via esp.

"....but have to compliment you on your use of diacritical marks (that is assuming they are done correctly-har har). Where did you find them?"

I'd like to tell you that I am a diacritical mark savant. Well, that's what I'd like to tell you. I actually google the word I am looking for, paste it into my report and voilà.

I am just loving your report and am glad that there are so many days left for my reading pleasure! Thanks for all the work. Keep the report coming! Please! and Thanks!

diacritical marks are available on a PC keyboard, as well as many others. If you type alt-131, for instance (has to be on the 10-key pad, I think) you get â. There are a whole bunch of things you can get:
130 to 139 gives you:

éâäàåçêëèï

maitai,

Thank you for your wonderful trip reports. They are truly a treat to read.

I would like to ask how you record the details of your travels. Do you take notes as you go or at the end of each day, use a digital voice recorder, etc.? Or, do you just have the memory of an elephant and compile everything after you return home? I realize that what works for one may not work for another, but I would appreciate knowing your method. Thanks.

DAY TWELVE – THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY, IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO HELP A TOURIST, THE SHOWER DEATH TRAP, CHURCH OR SAILBOAT AND DINNER AT THE GROCERY STORE

When I had originally mapped out our trip, I had us flying directly from Kraków to Dubrovnik on SkyEurope. Yes, I had the perfect plan. Well, almost. Unfortunately, I received an email a few months after booking our overseas flights that SkyEurope was going to discontinue that route. It was back to the drawing board for me.

The good news; in the ensuing months we booked a flight on Croatian Airlines to Dubrovnik. The bad news; it was from Vienna. I had enjoyed my previous visit to Vienna, but the thought of the six-hour drive from Kraków didn’t thrill me, especially because I knew we would only have one night there. However, that was my only choice, and this was the day we were scheduled to make the drive.

We had said out goodbyes to the Cracowdays’ folks (I recommend this for an inexpensive and convenient place to stay in Kraków - just a short 10 minute walk to the Rynek), and we were on the road by 7:15.

Tracy (who was dubbed “Backseat Tracy” on our first trip with Kim and Mary to Italy in 2001) took up her customary backseat position, allowing Mary to be up front with Lady G and the maps. Mary loves maps! Tracy likes to read (although if you have ever seen any of my other trip reports, she is a top-notch navigator).

The three of us rambled through the Polish and Czech countryside and, as we did, Mary became increasingly more talkative (and she’s not quiet to begin with…of course, none of us are).

As Tracy sat in the back reading a book about love, an elephant and water (not necessarily in that order, I guess), Mary began asking questions about my life, loves, work and anything else that came in her head. There is a lot in her head, let me tell you.

My one and two word answers didn’t seem to be going over very well, because the less I answered, the more she asked. By the time we had reached the Czech/Austrian border (4 ½ hours later), Mary had obtained more information about me than Dr. Phil could ever imagine (Dr. Mary, I like it). I felt like laying down in the back seat to answer some of her questions, but that makes for unsafe driving tactics.

I looked in the rear view to get some verbal respite from Tracy, but she was weeping over something she had read in the elephant book (I think the trainer had run out of peanuts or something terrible), so I was on my own.

To tell the whole truth, all that talking made the trip seem shorter than the exactly six hours it took us from Kraków to Vienna. Suddenly I was having a Vienna flashback (although there was no Third Man or a Ferris Wheel involved).

My initial driving experience in Vienna in the 1990s had been a disaster. Trying to find our hotel became a quest, and it took us more than an hour to find the correct route into the center of town. No GPS in those days.

With Lady G, Mary and now Tracy guiding me in, we found the rental car agency easily. The car rental guy showed me on the map where our hotel was and said to just take the nearby U-Bahn to our nearby destination. This was going to be a snap. Yes, you know better than that.

When Tracy asked me if I knew where the subway was, being a guy (a somewhat over-confidant guy), I stated, “Yes, I do.” In reality, I didn’t really have a clue, but the rental car person said it was very close. Well, we walked this way, then that way, and then every which way until Tracy’s and Mary’s exasperated looks could only mean one thing. “Ask for directions,” they said in unison. Hey, at least there was no “idiot” in their vernacular. Yet.

We asked one woman (not a local, but she seemed to know what she was talking about), who gave us partial directions that lead us into a shopping area. We asked another person who gave us a couple of platform choices. After hitting a dead-end, we asked a lady with a baby-stroller, and she pointed us across the courtyard. “That’s where you want to be.”

After descending the escalator, we were once again pointed (by someone who really seemed like they knew what they were talking about) in a direction that led us to, what we thought, were our platforms. They were platforms, but just not our platforms.

Our bemused looks caught the attention of a kindly, older woman, who took pity on the stupid Americans wandering aimlessly in a Vienna U-Bahn station.

She said she was going in the same direction as we were going, and to just follow her. We asked her about buying tickets, and she shrugged and said to keep following her. We followed her right onto the train taking us to our destination. “Umm, what about tickets?” I asked.

“Don’t worry,” she said and walked away. (She had a nice, honest face. I was sure she would visit us in prison). The three American felons then rode to the next stop, which was (fortunately) our destination, and quickly got off. As the train pulled away, there was the nice, old lady waving to us from inside the car with a big smile. Sometimes, it just takes a village.

Vienna’s hotels had been very full when I tried to secure reservations, but luckily I had found Pension Nossek, with a great location on the Graben in the heart of the old city. The location was great.

This is a place that gets mixed reviews and for good reason. The pluses are its location, a really nice breakfast, and the staff is very friendly and helpful.

On the negative side, the rooms are in desperate need of some tender, loving care. To say our room was worn was an understatement. It was also very muggy on this damp day, and the fan in the room ran very slow (it’s not good when you can see the individual blades going round and round) and provided no relief.

“Oh well,” I said to Tracy, “I’ll take a refreshing shower,” which we all needed after lugging the luggage on the subway and over to the hotel. From the bathroom, Tracy heard a “Holy (Expletive To be Named Later)” from the shower. Knowing that I was not re-enacting a scene from Psycho, Tracy ran in to see what the commotion was all about.

There was no shower mat, so I had calmly stepped inside the shower and turned the water on. How I stayed upright when I took that first slip is still something I am amazed I was able to do. Now I know how Peggy Fleming (yes, I am dating myself, but she was my first true love…unbeknownst to her, of course) felt during the ’68 Olympics.

“Nobody’s breaking a hip on my watch,” Tracy said and she stayed with me during the duration. Finally, Grandpa Maitai got out of the shower unscathed. “Just get my walker and let’s go out to lunch,” I said.

We found a quaint Italian restaurant in a nearby alley, and since it was already after 3 p.m., the three of us were famished. Afterward, during a little downpour, we ducked inside St. Stephen’s Cathedral, and became a bit perplexed. “Is this the inside of a church or a sailing regatta?” I asked.

The interior of the cathedral had a very odd display of giant, white sails and bright, blue lights. It was like we were visiting a place of worship, and The America’s Cup had broken out. We never did find out what this exhibit was all about.

I thought about going up the stairs to the top of St. Stephens, but Vienna was getting socked in with clouds and rain, so there would be no view, and fortunately for my traveling companions, no stairs.

Our next stop was the Crypts of the Imperial family (4€ each). We saw Franz Joseph and some other Hapsburg tombs, and then, tired of dead people, we headed back to the Graben for a little vino outside, since it had stopped raining.

Mary told us about a specialty store in Vienna called Meinl am Graben, and since it was early in the evening we decided to explore the store before finding a restaurant for dinner. Wow, what a store!

The three of us walked around the entire place that included restaurants, a wine cellar and specialty foods in different sections that beckoned us to buy. Reluctantly, we walked away, looking for a dinner restaurant, but our minds kept drifting back to the store we had just visited. Yes, we were in love with Meinl!

Let’s see, we all like wine. Meinl has a bar that serves wine. What should we do? We hurried back to the Meinl Weinbar, where we plopped our butts down for, as it tuned out, the duration of the evening.

We sat in a non-smoking area (what a change from my first Austrian visit in 1984 when you couldn’t even see inside restaurants due to the thick cigarette smoke) amongst a vast array of wines. Our server was knowledgeable, showed us a litany of wines, and we were very happy to partake in a few glasses…apiece.

This was a comfortable setting, and after chatting with a U.C.L.A. alumnus for a bit (yes, as a San Diego State guy, I can go slumming), we decided to see if they had some food to go with the wine. We left that to the server’s discretion, who came back shortly with a bountiful platter of prosciutto, various cheeses, capers and crunchy bread, which was now our dinner on this evening.

The bill came to 89€, and the night turned out to be quite fun and relaxing. Plus, since Mary had asked me everything about my life earlier in the day, it was the patrons and server at the wine bar who were peppered with inquiries about their lives. They never knew what hit ‘em.

She asked our server where he was from, and he said, “Croatia.” We told him we would be flying to Dubrovnik the following morning.

He informed us he was from TrogIr, a place we would visit after Dubrovnik. He said, “You will love Croatia. It is so lovely.”

Tracy added, “We are looking forward so much to seeing your beautiful country.” Mary was also hoping her husband, currently somewhere between Los Angeles and New York on his whirlwind journey to join us back in Austria, would also be able to join us on our journey to our next destination.

One thing I was sure of; Mary would have many questions for him.

COMING UP - DAY THIRTEEN – DOES KIM MAKE THE PLANE, DOES HIS LUGGAGE, ROOMS WITH A VIEW, MIRROR IMAGE, CRUISE OUT-OF CONTROL, AND THE EIGHTH WONDER OF THE MODERN WORLD

"I would like to ask how you record the details of your travels."

Sorry NoleNomad, I did not see your question when I posted this morning.

Tracy is the copious note taker (notebook always at the ready) while on our trips, and I have already done extensive pre-planning wand have other notes. When something comes up, one of us will say, "Oh be sure to write that down," but usually Tracy is one step ahead of us.

As I think I stated earlier to a similar question, when it comes to memory, I guess it is because I have such a passion for traveling that I can remember details not only from this trip, but from trips taken a decade or two ago.

When I go through her notes, plus look at everyone's photos, each day seems as vivid as the day we were there. It actually amazes me how much I recall.

If my memory was as good for other things as it is for traveling and sports trivia, I would be a rich man. But I guess, since I have the inordinate good fortune of being able to travel to these places with a beautiful wife and terrific friends, my life could not be any richer than it is. Thanks for the comments.

Wow, I actually knocked out two today. It must be the cocktail hour.

DAY THIRTEEN – DOES KIM MAKE THE PLANE, DOES HIS LUGGAGE, ROOMS WITH A VIEW, MIRROR IMAGE, CRUISE OUT-OF CONTROL, AND THE EIGHTH WONDER OF THE MODERN WORLD

We awoke to a driving rainstorm and had a delicious, little breakfast in the charming breakfast room of the Pension Nossek. The hotel had pre-ordered the taxi to meet us, and the driver was up (you have to take a lift to get to the pension lobby) at the reception desk after we finished breakfast and helped us with our luggage.

I talked a lot to the driver on the way to the airport and asked him numerous questions (obviously Mary had rubbed off on me). Our driver pointed out many monuments on the trip to the airport.

It turned out he was also from Croatia and was very excited about the upcoming European Cup, because Croatia was going to open it against Austria. Although he had lived in Austria for years, there was no delay when I asked him which team would command his rooting interest.

“Croatia,” he said. He then proceeded to help me with Croatian pronunciations so I would not embarrass myself more than usual when I spoke to the local Dubrovnik populous upon arrival.

After checking in, Mary was very nervous knowing Kim had a small window of opportunity in order to make our 10:10 flight. At 9:35, she started worrying even more.

I bet her a glass of wine Kim would be coming down the escalator within five minutes. “Kim never loses a bet for me,” I said.

Remember the ease showed by O.J Simpson running through airports in those old Hertz commercials? Well, Kim’s disheveled and sweaty appearance did not resemble O.J. in any manner as he walked off the escalator (of course, Kim also has never been a double murderer).

Kim had been directed to the wrong terminal for our flight (probably the same people directing us to the U-Bahn the day before), and he ran as fast as he could (which, unfortunately, is not very fast) to make our flight.

Then, like clockwork, the man at the Croatian Airline gate announced that the flight from Vienna to Dubrovnik would be delayed 30 minutes. Always the true friend, I said, “See Kim, you didn’t have to run after all.”

We arrived in Dubrovnik at noon and proceeded to grab our luggage. Well, three of us did. Kim’s luggage was somewhere in the world between Los Angeles and Dubrovnik. I told him, “Well, at least you have clean, lost clothes.” At that point, and I’m not sure of this, Kim gave me “the look.”

Our driver that had been sent by our apartment host, Jadranka Benrussi, gave us lots of information on the area. When I asked him his favorite restaurant in Dubrovnik, he said with a sly smile, “I don’t really have a favorite. They are all pretty touristic. My favorites are out of town.”

He dropped us at the Hilton Hotel parking lot and said he would help us with our bags because we had a little walking left to do. We walked up some steps, came to a dead end, turned left and walked up more steps. Tracy and Mary were very happy Peter (our driver) had offered to help. Over the course of three days, we became very acquainted with these steps. Tracy counted 99 of them in all.

We went though a small gate on the left, down some stairs and there were our two separate apartments, which also had a nice outdoor courtyard that afforded views out over the neighborhood all the way to the Adriatic. Needless to say, the four of us consumed a good portion of wine on that patio during our evenings in Dubrovnik.

Kim only had his sweaty traveling clothes, and it was a very warm day. Tracy then offered Kim a pair of my shorts and a shirt, and when he emerged from his apartment, there I was. No wait, there he was. I got to see those clothes for the better part of the next two days.

Jadranka’s apartments, located below her and her husband’s residence, is located a short distance from the Gradska Vrata Pilc (Pile Gate). As we got closer to the Pile Gate, there were hundreds of people all shuffling along at a snail’s pace in huge herds following the ubiquitous Umbrella People in all directions. These were the swarms of cruise boat touristas who, as we were to find out, descend upon Dubrovnik every day between about 8 and 4.

As we jostled our way through the Pile Gate and down some stairs we decided to head to the harbor for lunch. To get to the harbor we walked down Dubrobnik’s main drag, the Stradun.

We had only walked for a short time when it looked like Tracy taken a slight misstep. “I slipped,” she said. And sure enough, the Stradun is a little slippery because of its limestone coating and made even slippier by the thousands of people who walk on it each day.

“Wow, I bet people fall here when it’s wet,” Mary said, and I could only hope that shower-slipping “Grandpa Maitai” would not be one of those unfortunate people.

The Stradun was packed with tourists at its plethora of shops and restaurants that line the street or are located just off of it. Restaurant hucksters were hawking their respective places but we walked by, and by the time we had reached the harbor, the massive throngs were, for the moment, blissfully gone.

After lunching on pizza, pasta and salad, we started walking around Dubrovnik to get our bearings. It was getting later in the afternoon, so the cruise boat navy numbers were lessening by the minute, and the narrow lanes became much more pleasant for strolling instead of elbowing.

Then it happened!

Now this might sound a little dramatic, but at a few minutes before four in the afternoon on a gorgeous afternoon, June 5, 2008, my life changed forever. Tracy, Kim, Mary and I stepped through a little hole in the Dubrovnik Wall, walked down some steps and were thrust into a place that I modestly refer to as the Eighth Wonder of The Modern World. We had entered the most mystical spot on earth. Others know it simply as the Buza Bar.

Yes, I’d seen pictures. Yes, I’d read accounts by people who had visited, but nothing could have prepared me for this wine and beer paradise.

The tables and chairs are set out on little cliffs that command incredible views out over the Adriatic Sea. There are no rails, so if one sits back in their chair the wrong way, well, let’s just say that could be your ultimate final call. Nearby people were swimming and diving off cliffs into the sea. The water was a color of blue that was so beautiful not even pictures could do it justice.

All of this ambiance and wine, too, please pinch me. Kim joked that Croatia obviously must not have strict OSHA regulations, and then he promptly cut his leg open just a tad from a tiny, exposed piece of metal. It was nothing that a band-aid and a few small bottles of red vino couldn’t fix.

Buza has just one girl who works behind the bar, and upon our arrival she traversed the terrain like a celestial mountain goat to take our order. She then glided back to the bar and within minutes was at our table carrying wine and beer. If they had an Olympics for wine and beer servers, she would receive the Gold Medal.

During my second or third wine (math is useless in a setting like this), as I looked out on this incredible view, I waxed poetic, “This is like your first kiss or your first love.”

Kim responded, “How about your first wife?”

Once again, the sage lyrics of the omnipresent philosopher Meat Loaf immediately danced in my head, “Two out of Three Ain’t Bad,” I said.

For those of you who travel to Dubrovnik, even if you do not drink alcohol, this is a spot not to be missed. Be sure to get here by about 4 p.m., because by 4:30 each day, the Buza Bar was packed.

As we soaked in the atmosphere (and the wine), the four of us spent 90 minutes solving virtually all the world’s problems. As we sat there, small boats were hurrying the last of the day-tripping cruise people out to the giant ships located off the Croatian coast. These ships were so large that on a clear day I firmly believe they could block out the sun and cause an eclipse.

Tracy dragged me out of the Buza Bar (where I could have stayed for all three days in Dubrovnik), and soon we were back on the Stradun, now peacefully devoid of tourists (except for us and a few others).

The four of us showered (not together people, this isn’t the 70s), and we sat out on our apartment patio sipping wine (that we had purchased at a little market on the way back to the apartments), looking out over the trees toward the Adriatic and listening to Kim’s IPOD. “Oh yeah”, we agreed, “The four of us are very lucky people.”

After exiting the Buza Bar, we had seen a cute restaurant that caught our attention and we made reservations. So after our wine and music interlude on our apartment patio we all walked back to Ekvinocijo Konoba and dined on its outside patio. It was a lovely evening.

The very nice server said the fish at this restaurant “was fresh from the Adriatic” so Mary had the fresh fish filet and a very good grilled zucchini.

Tracy started with another “Wow” dish. The fried calamari was incredible (and I am not a big calamari person). It was fresh and had just a light hint of garlic. She also had the seafood risotto.

I also had risotto, of the shrimp variety, and the best French Fries I had eaten in quite some time.

Kim had the only weak dish of the evening; a breaded shrimp he said was “cold and a disappointment,” much like many of the dates Kim and I had taken out in our college days (Kim was the first person I met at San Diego State in 1970).

Of course, we needed something to wash down those dishes, and a liter of the house white did the trick.

For the most part, the four of us always split the bill no matter who buys what dishes. We do not itemize. We do not say, “Oh, but you had one more appetizer and a coffee while we just had a dessert.” Obviously, if someone only has a salad, one of the couples will put in a little bit more.

This method has worked on all of our European trips, and there has never been one squabble about money. I’ve witnessed groups in Europe have terrible verbal exchanges at tables next me to me, fighting over “their fair share of the bill.” It is painful to watch. Life’s too short, and I would have to think that over the duration of our many trips, we have all come out pretty even.

We laughed at this particular bill, because it seemed no matter what country we were in, what restaurant we were in or what we all ate and drank, the bill always came out to the equivalent of $75 per couple. Tonight was no different.

We walked off our dinner (those 99 steps are good exercise) back to the Benrussi apartments. Tomorrow, we would further explore Dubrovnik, and Kim would hope that he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the trip in my clothes.

COMING UP - DAY FOURTEEN – DELIGHTFUL DUBROVNIK, WALK A MILE IN MY SHORTS OR THE WILD GOOSE CHASE TO FIND KIM’S CLOTHES, HITTING THE WALLS, WATCH OUT FOR THAT CRUISE SHIP, WINE AND CHEESE WITH JADRANKA AND SPRINGTIME FOR (YOU KNOW WHO)

MaiTai...

You have brought back such great memories for me of my trip to Dubrovnik 2 years ago. I LOVE the Buza Bar too and could have easily spent much more time there!

When we were there we stayed in a sobe inside the walls and every morning would go to a cafe right at the end of "our" street for our cappucinnos. As we stayed there enjoying our leisurely breakfast we would marvel at the hordes of cruisers flowing through the city gates. And that was at the end of September! I can only imagine the numbers during the height of the summer.

As always, looking forward to more of your report!

Ah, the Buza Bar. That may very well be my favorite place on earth. One cannot even begin the describe the beauty of the place!

Can't wait for the next installment!

Tracy

LCI and Tracy,

My screen saver is the Buza Bar photo I took while walking the wall, and on days when work heads south, I head back there for a few moments to regain peace and tranquility.

Love it! I should do it as well. We were lucky enough to be in Dubrovnik in November when it was nice and quiet, and we were literally the only people at Buza Bar except for the waitress and the cat with her kittens. That goes down in history as being one of the best moments of my life! I would be perfectly content spending the rest of my life right there....

I'm at work and could use some pretending like I'm elsewhere. Maybe I'll find my Buza pictures and pretend I'm there.

Tracy

Well, Dubrovnik is now on my list . . .

Thank you for instantly transporting me back to my favorite place on earth.

Looking at the responses, could a Fodorite GTG at the Buza Bar be in the offing one of these years?

Count me in....here's to the Buza Bar!

Tracy

For some reason that idea seems fraught with, what? Danger? Hilarity? For sure, Croatia would never be the same!

We're on for the Buza Bar! Wonderful place, wonderful memories!

Topping so i can find this tomorrow (it's too late for me to read and actually comprehend anything!)

I've been to C.K. many times, so I'm looking forward to reading about your adventures!

Hi Tom,
Nice to see you're "on the road" again - I love your JBRs. Saving this to enjoy later.

DAY FOURTEEN – DELIGHTFUL DUBROVNIK, THE WILD GOOSE CHASE TO FIND KIM’S CLOTHES, A MONASTERY BY ANY OTHER NAME, EVERYONE DOES SPEAK ENGLISH, HITTING THE WALLS, WATCH OUT FOR THAT CRUISE SHIP, WINE AND CHEESE WITH JADRANKA AND SPRINGTIME FOR (YOU KNOW WHO)

As dreams of the Buza Bar (and, I believe, Shania Twain) danced in my head, I had a restful sleep at the Benrussi Apartments. Although it was serene where we got ready for the four of us (99 steps, remember) getting ready to face the new day, we knew that shortly we would encounter the “Attack of the Umbrella People” (aka the cruise crowd).

On this particular morning, it must have been confusing to be part of a cruise tour, because it was raining and everyone had umbrellas, not just the group leaders. I envisioned mass anarchy amongst the cruisers, so Tracy and I scurried through the Pile Gate and found a dry spot with a convenient awning that caught most of the raindrops.

We had been hard-rolled and jellied for so long, it was comforting to have a couple of ham and cheese omelets. While we ate breakfast, Kim and Mary went to the nearby Croatian Airline office and were given the good news that their luggage had been found. Unfortunately, it had not been found in Dubrovnik.

“Come back in a couple of hours, and we will have more news for you,” they were told, so they joined us for some more Dubrovnik strolling, only this time with a purpose. Although there are not a lot of so-called “big ticket items,” Dubrovnik does have some interesting sights.

We had already piled through the Pile Gate and its tourist masses many times, but this time we had more of a plan. After entering the Pile Gate, we saw the very tiny Church of St. Savior on the left and to the right is the Velika Onofrijea Fontana (Onofrio’s Big Fountain), one of two Onofrio fountains in Dubrovnik.

The big fountain is where you see cruise ship people eating their gelato all day long (ok that’s just a guess, but whenever I saw a guy in plaid shorts, a striped shirt and huge belly, I leapt to that perhaps mistaken observation).

We walked down the Stradun, which had been made a little slicker from the morning’s precipitation. At the far end of the walk is Luza Square and Orlandov Stup (Orlando’s Column). Orlando looks pretty passive for a knight, even with his sword and shield, but I still felt like belting out, “There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Orlando.”

Tracy shook her head and said, “Tom, that’s Fernando.”

Ah, my lyrical Waterloo (actually, I knew it was Fernando, but I was trying to liven up the crowd on this misty morning).

Speaking of something stupid (and I don’t mean the Frank and Nancy Sinatra song), Tom’s Tuscan Tours (I didn’t feel like changing the name from our Italian trip) then had a little slip up. “Let’s check out the Franjevački samostan Muzej.” Of course, I said it in English, “Franciscan Monastery Museum.”

We walked inside a peaceful, Mediterranean-style building with beautiful arches encircling a small garden. There was religious art and a church with a 15th-century Gothic cloister.

But the highlight I wanted to show everyone was what is thought to be the oldest working pharmacy in Europe. The only problem was we couldn’t find it. Being a guy, I walked around the monastery a couple of times before asking the ticket man where the pharmacy was located.

“Where is the pharmacy?” I inquired.

Much to my chagrin (and to the utter amusement of my traveling companions), he smiled and answered softly, “I am sorry, sir. You are at the wrong monastery. This is the Dominican Monastery.” Well, I was as quiet as a monk.

We ventured back down the Stradun to the Franciscan Monastery, but we all agreed we liked the Dominican Monastery better.

It was getting hot, and since I had been the only one to believe in the weather gods and wore shorts, the others decided to walk the 99 steps and change to more comfortable attire to beat the heat.

I walked over to a little outdoor patio spot for a beer and waited for them. While sitting and sipping, I overheard a conversation between what I perceived were a local man, a gentleman from India and, I think, a Scandinavian (my Norwegian is a little rusty) woman.

The two people who were not locals were attempting to ask a question in Croatian and not getting very far. Then the local guy said, “Do you speak English?” Soon, the three were chatting like old friends, speaking in almost perfect English, and, closing my eyes, I could have just as easily been sitting at the Redondo Beach pier listening to this conversation.

People might not like it that the English language has permeated their cultures, but there is no doubt that it came in handy for that threesome.

After the group rejoined me, it was time for lunch at a good little Italian restaurant on an alley. Kim and Mary also had news. “Our luggage will be here at 3 p.m.,” Mary said.

I think the restaurant was called Renaissance or perhaps Tracy was starting to write down in the journal that I was a Renaissance man. It is unclear.

In any event, I loved my veal risotto, Mary enjoyed her mackerel, while Kim and Tracy were happy with their calamari and French fries. It was about 2:15, so Tracy and I took a little walk and would hit the Dubrovnik Walls after 2:30, which is when Jadranka (our apartment host) said the crowd is lighter. Mary and Kim would gather Kim’s clothes, probably walk the wall, too, and meet us at the Buza Bar.

Walking the Gradske Zidine or Town Walls is something that you must do while visiting Dubrovnik. There was nobody in line, and Tracy and I each paid the 90 kn to walk the wall while listening to the audio guide (that ticket also includes the Fort of St. Lawrence, located outside the Pile Gate).

The day, which had started out on a wet note, had turned into another gorgeous afternoon, with a beautiful blue sky and an Adriatic Sea to match. It is almost impossible to walk more than 20 feet without stopping to take another photo. Beautiful vistas and panoramas popped up at every turn.

As we walked along the wall, we found one sight quite amusing. There was a giant cannon pointing out to sea with its barrel pointed directly at two cruise ships, whose passengers were being whisked back to their behemoth vessels. If only I had some cannonballs and some gunpowder, I thought.

Soon afterward, we were looking down at the Buza Bar (one of the pictures I took is now my screensaver at work). It beckoned, and we picked up the pace.

We continued our walk with beautiful Adriatic and then harbor views commanding us to take more pictures. There are a few places along the wall to enter, and I would recommend that if you try to walk before 2:30, you use one of the less crowded entrances.

As we walked on the side nearer to the hills behind town, we looked over the roofs of Dubrovnik and could see all the newer tiles that were needed to replace the ones that were shelled during the war. It does give one a moment to pause.

Then something else gave us a moment to pause. Behind those orange roofs a monster was moving. One of the floating monstrosities of the sea was chugging along, and the top of the ship was several feet above the Dubrovnik skyline in the foreground. It made for an interesting photograph.

Near the end of the walk on this now very hot day, there was a little entryway into a room. On the counter was a bowl full of oranges being fresh-squeezed into orange juice. The juice was way overpriced and, on this now very hot afternoon, worth every Kuna.

Speaking of libation, after our walk, we briskly made our way to the Buza Bar. It was 4:30 and we secured one of the last available tables. Soon afterward, Kim and Mary joined us. I could tell before they spoke something was wrong. Kim was still in my shorts!

“Well, the bus arrived from the airport that was supposed to have Kim’s luggage,” Mary said. “The only problem was the guy forgot to put Kim’s luggage on the bus.”

A few vinos later, the problem seemed miniscule, and then Croatian Airlines called Kim on the satellite phone. They would have his luggage back at the office at 7 p.m.

As we sat and enjoyed another spectacular afternoon, our lovely server came over with an order of wine and chuckled while saying, “Did you hear the news? Two of the cruise ships bumped into each other not far from here.”

Now, lest you think our server to be evil (she was nothing of the kind), she also knew it was just a minor altercation where no one was hurt (except for the reputations of the two captains).

It was another couple of hours in paradise, but we eventually got up and walked back to the apartment. Kim and Mary made their last trip to Croatian Airlines to pick up his clothes, and we picked up some wine for the patio.

Later we met Kim and Mary on the patio. Kim had been so excited to get out of my shorts, that he also bought wine, cheese, salami and bread. It looked like we would be on the patio for the duration of this night.

What a spectacular evening! The weather was perfect, the wine was good and we got to meet our hostess, Jadranka, who came down to visit with us. She was a very gracious host who sat with us for nearly hour sharing her knowledge on the area and her thoughts about the war.

We asked if she had left town during the war, and she said, “No. I had to make a living.” So each day, as shells were raining down on Dubrovnik, she and her husband would go to work and their children would attend school.

Then came what could have been a very embarrassing moment. Kim had brought his IPOD, and the four of us had been debating great sing-along songs before Jadranka arrived to sip wine with us. Kim had made a play list of what he perceived to be good sing-along songs while he was home, so he had said, “Let’s listen, and we can all decide.”

As Jadranka was relating the tales about the war, out of one ear I heard “Germany was having trouble; what a sad, sad story….”

“Crap,” I thought, “Springtime for Hitler” from The Producers was starting. While in college, Kim, myself and a few others would go down to the theater (in lieu of studying) and sit through Blazing Saddles and The Producers for a buck (we also had to suffer through The Twelve Chairs, but the other two movies made that 90 minutes of tedium worth the wait). In any event, we could nearly recite both movies verbatim by the time we ended our college careers (I’m sure my parents thought that was money well spent).

At this moment in time, however, the juxtaposition of Jadranka talking about war and a goofy song from a movie that has a musical about the worst person in the annals of history just didn’t seem like a good mix. I quickly kicked Kim, who instantly realized the situation, and he turned off the song immediately.

“Next time,“ I said to Kim, “we should stick to the theme from Blazing Saddles.”

In any event, we had a wonderful evening with Jadranka, who has a great sense of humor and was fun to talk with on this evening. Her apartments were quite charming, complete with a little kitchenette and air conditioning for spoiled American tourists such as ourselves. The patio with Adriatic view was quite a bonus.

After Jadranka departed for a party for which she was now quite late (Mary’s wine pouring expertise should never be underestimated), we decided that we would just hang out on the patio and finish our wine, cheese and salami, and call it a night.

Tomorrow, our plans were to pick up rental car number two and spend the day driving south and exploring beautiful, rugged Montenegro. However, for this group of travelers, it seems our best-laid plans sometimes have a strange way of going completely awry.

COMING UP - DAY FIFTEEN – MAYBE WE CAN VISIT HUGO MONTENEGRO INSTEAD, T (AS IN TROUBLE) WITH MUSSOLINI, A NICE DETOUR, WARNING: DANGEROUS PARKING, DINNER BY THE SEA AND MARY TAKES US ON A “SHORT-CUT”

Sounds like a wonderful trip. Bookmarking!

It's it wonderful to talk to the locals? We stayed in a lovely apartment in Trogir and our host and hostess made us breakfast in the morning. We were the only ones there, and we sat and chatted with them for a good three hours. We talked about everything from the recent war (in which our husband fought) to maternity leaves in the US vs. Croatia. We ended up missing Plitvice because of our chat (although it was pouring rain that whole day so we would have skipped it anyways) and were late to arrive at our hotel in Slovenia but it was so worth it.

Anxiously awaiting more!

Tracy

Of course I didn't mean "our husband"...I learned a lot about Croatia that day and I'm fairly certain Polygamy wasn't one of them!

Tracy

"...wonderful to talk to the locals?"

Yes. We learned a lot about Dubrovnik in a short time talking with Jadranka and wished she could have stayed for more time. I highly recommend her apartments, by the way. Great location and quiet at night.

I was getting most impatient for another installment, and then I realized it's only been two days since the last one, so it seems a bit churlish to get grumpy about it. I suppose MTT's annoying job is getting in the way. Tom, you really must do something about that.

I am sooo enjoying this and eagerly waiting for more.

The Buza Bar is definitely on my list.

artsnletters - I'm fixing a martini (watch out for typos) and getting to our day trip to Montenegro.

kerouac - I'll buy the first round at the Buza!

DAY FIFTEEN – MAYBE WE CAN VISIT HUGO MONTENEGRO INSTEAD, T (AS IN TROUBLE) WITH MUSSOLINI, A NICE DETOUR, WARNING: DANGEROUS PARKING, DINNER BY THE SEA AND MARY TAKES US ON A “SHORT-CUT”

This was the day we had all been waiting for; our much anticipated day trip to mysterious Montenegro. I didn’t even have to rally the troops on this misty morning. It was as if everyone had been injected with double espressos as we scurried down the 99 stairs, pushed our way through the assembled multitude of umbrella people at the Pile Gate, zipped down the Stradun, made our way through the Ploče Gate and walked to the Hertz office to get our car.

Although we had asked for a car with manual transmission, they did not have one at Hertz and I was “upgraded” to an automatic. For me, that was not an upgrade because I enjoyed a stick, plus I knew this car would not get as good gas mileage as a stick shift. In any event, nothing, not even the plentiful drops of rain, could put a damper on this day.

I had prepared an extensive list of things to do and sights to see on “Montenegro Day.” As we headed down the narrow, main coastal road past the airport and Cavtat, the gang were all reading about the exciting new places we would visit.

We were going to travel though Perast, a supposedly beautiful Montenegrin town, through the village of Dobrota and wind our way down to the Bay of Kotor. Oh, this was going to be a marvelous day of exploration, and it would be another new country stamp to add to our passports. Expectations were running high.

Soon we reached the border that would be our portal to Montenegro; well we almost reached the border. A line of cars about 15 or 20 deep stretched in front of us waiting to get into Montenegro. “No problem,” we thought, “we’ll get through this in no time.”

So we waited. And we waited. And we waited. In the span of 25 minutes, we counted all of one car that had passed through the border checkpoint. We also only counted one car that had exited Montenegro back into Croatia. It was perplexing, and now just a tad bit frustrating. But, hey, we’re from L.A. and used to traffic delays, so we sat and waited patiently.

Then, out of seemingly nowhere, a man appeared, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Benito Mussolini (although he was not hanging upside down at an Esso station), and he strode out from amongst the cars and looked me straight in the eyes (well, I thought he was looking straight at me).

He began motioning me to pull out of line and come forward. “Is he talking to me?” I asked the other three. No one really knew for sure, but he was staring directly at me. I pointed at myself and, in a DeNiro moment, mouthed the words “You talkin’ to me.” He nodded “yes” (that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it).

I then pulled out of line and headed (slowly) toward him. Suddenly, he began waving his arms like, well like Mussolini, and shouted something at me. I don’t believe he was saying, “Welcome to the beautiful country of Montenegro. Have a lovely stay.” I know this because he had the same facial expression my dad had when he learned I had flunked 8th grade algebra.

But Mussolini’s expression was much nicer than the next visage I encountered. A man, who obviously had been in line for a very long time, leaped from his automobile, came up to our car and started screaming at me in “Croenglish.”

Croenglish can best be explained as “the ability to utter multiple expletives in Croatian and English at a faster than normal rate of speed.” His usage and vast array of American curse words bordered on the remarkable, and I remember thinking this guy would be a natural to drive on the Los Angeles freeway system.

Back to the reality of the moment; I was now in the lane where people exiting Montenegro would be driving as they enter Croatia. Fortunately, nobody seemed to be entering the country from that direction either, so any head on collision was averted.

“Do you think someone will let me back in line?” I asked my traveling friends who were now ducking in case there was gunfire. As Kim turned and looked out the window at 15 cars full of angry Croatians, he said quietly, “I wouldn’t count on it.”

We decided to go to the back of the line, which, as it turned out, was only a few cars from where we had started this comedy of errors. There was really no place to turn around since, I’m sure, this is not an everyday occurrence, so I backed up past the line of cars. In a couple of minutes, we were in the queue again. “What the Hell happened there?” I inquired.

Tracy told me that, as the Croatian driver was yelling at me, a large tour bus passed us, and that Benito must have been pointing at him to move forward, not us.

For the next twenty minutes we sat, and no car was allowed to enter Montenegro, nor did one car exit from Montenegro. It had now been about an hour since we had reached the border, and only one or two cars had gone though. Obviously, besides my erratic driving, there was a major problem.

Well, we can sit in traffic jams in California, but not on vacation. In a unanimous decision, we decided to blow off Montenegro and head back. “Another time,” we sighed.

DIGRESSION: A couple of days later Mary was talking to her daughter back in the U.S. who told her that she had seen a news report of an “incident” in our general area of the world and the border of Montenegro had been virtually shut down in an attempt to locate whoever the authorities were looking for (thankfully, not me). For once, timing did not go our way, but as my dad used to always tell me, “Roll with the flow.”

Oh yeah, back to our little story: On the way to Dubrovnik, we saw the exit again for Cavtat again. “What the Hell,” Mary said, “Let’s see that town.”

“Damn right,” I said. Obviously the Croatian guy who knew every American swear word had infected our group’s vocabulary, but soon we were in charming little Cavtat, and soon Mussolini’s brother and the border problems became a distant memory.

We sat at a harbor side café, drank some cappuccinos and ate some sweets (gotta put that weight back on), and then took a wonderful hike along the sea that eventually brought us back to our car.

Next stop was Lapad Bay for lunch at Casa Bar Restaurant. Today, Lady G had been flawless to this juncture, but she forgot to give one last, little detail as I started down the street toward the restaurant. “What did I do this time?” I thought, as I saw a young man waving his arms at me. At least, he didn’t look like a former dictator.

“You are driving in a pedestrian zone,” he said. “It would be wise to back up.”

Well, wisdom had not been a key word for me on this day, but I backed up, and we ended up having a nice lunch on the water at the Casa Bar and Restaurant. It had commanding views of the sea, and the food was quite good. I really liked the spaghetti with olio.

We hopped back in the car and drove to Dubrovnik to attempt to find the parking lot, which was nearby our apartment. Yes, there was a parking area, but the route to get there was a little more difficult than we had been told. Although a two-way street, only one car could navigate it safely at a time. Plus, there were more than a couple of blind spots.

Having already nearly caused a border incident and, shortly thereafter, driving in a pedestrian-only zone, my confidence was not at its peak. Fortunately, the troops had my back.

Forming a human parking attendant chain, Tracy, Kim and Mary positioned themselves along the route shouting directions and warning each other if any other vehicles were coming toward our direction. A few near misses later, and with looks of amazement from other drivers, we were safely ensconced in our parking spot at the top of the hill (which, by the way, had terrific Adriatic views).

By the time we got back to old Dubrovnik it was mid-afternoon. We all had things to do.

Kim and Mary finally got their opportunity to walk the Dubrovnik Town Walls, while Tracy and I strolled through town for our final visit to the Buza Bar.

In case you are wondering, we did visit Buza 2 on our three-day stay, and although the views are beautiful, the ambiance of Buza 1 could not be beat.

As Tracy and I sipped wine at Buza 1, looking out at a majestically blue sea, we heard a booming voice from above. “Hey Mr. and Mrs. Maitai (not our real names), look up here.”

I thought, “Well, if this is where God is going to pluck me from this earth, I can’t think of a better place.” Of course, it wasn’t God, but Kim on the Town Wall with his camera ready to shoot photographs of the most contented couple on earth savoring their final hours at this remarkable spot.

As the enchanting voice of Diana Krall singing “I Remember You” drifted out into the afternoon breeze, Tracy and I counted our blessings that we were able to share moments like this together. When I close my eyes, I can still hear that song, and I will always remember the Buza Bar, from the death-defying seating arrangements to the lovely, nimble wine server to the flirty, little bar cat and finally to the incomparable Adriatic views that have left an indelible image in my brain, in my heart and, most importantly, in my soul.

The Buza Bar has to be experienced to be believed. If you can’t be relaxed here, you might as well give up the quest. If you can’t be happy here, seek professional help as soon as you return home. If you can’t be contented here, satisfaction will always be beyond your grasp.

I hate to over-hype a place, and as a rule I do not, but the Buza Bar was that special for me.

Kim and Mary had arranged reservations that evening at a little restaurant they had happened upon while embarking on one of their many luggage wild goose chases. Restaurant Orhan, located adjacent to the fortress, had a patio overlooking the Adriatic, and we got there just as the sun was setting.

Dinner was quite good, and afterward, it was time to climb those steps back to the apartments…or maybe not. Mary told us she had discovered a “short-cut” back to the apartments. “I saw this earlier today, and I don’t think we’ll have to climb 99 steps if we go up this way,” Mary said confidently.

Well, Mary was correct. About three thousand steps later (ok, that’s a slight exaggeration) we were back at the apartments, and those calories from dinner were but a distant memory (as was the feeling in our legs).

It was another beautiful night at the Benrussi Apartments, but this would be the end of our stay in delightful Dubrovnik. Tomorrow, the road warriors would be back on the highway, terrorizing Croatian drivers at every turn, as we drove up the coast to our next stop, Trogir, a place where we would soon be enveloped in red and white madness.

COMING UP - DAY SIXTEEN – THE COAST WITH THE MOST, AT LEAST THEY LET US INTO BOSNIA, JUMP-STARTING OUR VACATION, GOING TO THE DOGS AND GO CROATIA!

Hi Tom,

your latest installment brought back memories for me of our honeymoon [mine and my DH's, not yours and mine as my sentence might seem to infer] which was spent half by Lake Bled, and half at Cavtat!

if I tell you that this was in the days of Tito it'l lgove you some idea of how loooong ago it was.

but I still remember the lobster we ate one night by the harbour in Cavtat. thanks for bringing it back for me.

regards, ann

I feel the same way about the Tam Tam Café in Hoi An, Vietnam, as others feel about the Buza Bar.

Absolutely wonderful report, Tom.

Loving every word, and waiting for the rest!

Not many more days now until I am back at the Buza Bar, in good time to watch the rosy-red sun roll down into the sea. 7th October - how many days is that from now?

julia_t:

Hopefully they have restocked the wine. Tracy, Kim, Mary and I almost wiped out their entire inventory. Have a wonderful time.

I have really been enjoying your trip report and anxiously await the rest. I noticed that you all wore shorts in Dubrovnik. Please tell me that you felt fine in shorts. I have wondered whether we can get by in them if the weather is hot.

"Please tell me that you felt fine in shorts."

Not only did I feel fine, I felt comfortable, which I would not have been in long pants.

I happen to be looking at my screen saver (a picture of the Buza Bar). Everyone (except one guy) is wearing shorts. When we walked the wall, it was about 85 degrees. Shorts were the order of the day.

When the weather is warm in Dubrovnik, I think you would feel more out of place not wearing shorts. Enjoy!

DAY SIXTEEN – THE COAST WITH THE MOST, AT LEAST THEY LET US INTO BOSNIA, GOING TO THE DOGS, GO CROATIA AND WHAT’S THE BUZZ?

Since this was to be a traveling day, we all got some extra shut-eye and didn’t weave our way out of Dubrovnik until almost 10 a.m. We walked to our car, bypassing Mary’s unique shortcut of the night before, thus saving ourselves about 15 minutes.

The human chain worked to perfection as no pedestrians were injured exiting the parking lot, and we easily found the huge bridge heading north out of Dubrovnik, a place I definitely will return to someday. I might even attempt a journey down to pesky Montenegro, but will check all international news stations before I head south.

On the way to Trogir, the skies were beautiful as was the rugged Croatian coastline. We passed the road that led to Ston, which had restaurants that supposedly served the best oysters and mussels in Croatia. Since it was so early, I was shellfish and would not turn off the road (pardon me for that one).

We kept driving, and soon, up ahead in the distance loomed the Bosnia-Herzegovina border. We hoped that Mussolini had not phoned ahead about the “crazy, lane-switching Americans.” Obviously, he had not sent word to our Bosnian friends, and the guards waved us through without so much as giving us a second glance. A short while later, we were back in Croatia. The movie will be called, “If It’s Sunday between 11:30 and Noon, It Must Be Bosnia.”

We stopped at a little seaside town for lunch. Mary looked out at the car and said to me, “You had better turn off your lights (another Tom foreshadowing alert).” The laws in all these countries state that you must drive with your lights on, but sometimes the forgetful driver (aka me) would forget to turn them off. Fortunately, it also takes a village to help a driver.

At about 3 p.m. we arrived in Trogir. After missing the first exit (I was groovin’ to some really great Euro-pulsating music and didn’t hear Lady G (or Mary or Tracy or Kim) tell me to turn, so I got off at the next Trogir exit.

After passing some homes, we found ourselves in a rather industrial part of town. “This doesn’t look like a UNESCO sight to me,” I muttered. But sure enough, we were in Trogir, and there to our left was our home for the next two evenings, The Apartmani Trogir.

From the outside, it looked like a motel and located right next door to it was an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for a place to stay, but it had received good reviews, and, remember, we are not “judge a book by its cover” type people.

The Apartmani Trogir turned out to be a great find, located just about 1/8 mile from the bridge that takes you over to the center of Trogir.

Luka and his son were great hosts, and they had a nice breakfast spread each morning. The four of us shared a large apartment with a balcony (where, of course we would sip wine each evening), and the price was very inexpensive. The clean and modern apartment also had a kitchenette, secure parking area and wireless Internet.

Upon arriving, Luka gave us walking directions, and we made the short jaunt down to Trogir proper. As we walked from the parking lot over the bridge it now had the feel of a UNESCO World Heritage town, with its narrow alleys and pretty harbor. Soon we were in the historic center of town.

There were not a lot of people walking through Trogir late in the afternoon, but every time we came upon a restaurant there were tons of people dressed in red and white outfits and goofy looking hats. Yes, tonight was the first game of the Euro Cup, and these fans were ready to party as the game with Austria was just about ready to begin.

At one outdoor spot, there were dozens of Croatian fans, both of the two and four-legged variety. That’s right, even the dogs don their Croatian gear (I’m sure with a little help) for these games, and within minutes the cheering (and barking) was deafening as Croatia took an early 1-0 lead with only about five minutes gone in the first half.

Of course, this being soccer, that was the only score of the game. We had drinks at a place near the water and watched the first half. Watching the fans was much more entertaining than the game, and by the half, it was time for us to find a restaurant.

We found the Restaurant Capo inside the walls and it was a very pleasant evening of dining. Mary was now into the Croatian fish dishes and she dined on the mixed grill, while Tracy had salad and spaghetti. I enjoyed a steak with grilled zucchini and spinach, while Kim opted for the chicken. The dishes were all quite good.

The town was in a frenzy as we departed (no, not because we were leaving) because the game had just ended in a Croatian victory. Horns blared as cars zoomed to and fro across the bridge. I was now a full-fledged Croatian soccer fan.

We walked the short five to ten minutes back to our apartment, pulled some big chairs out onto the balcony, drank some wine, argued about the greatest sing-along songs of all time and headed off to bed.

It was the first night I had a little trouble getting to sleep, but I blame that on the fact that “YMCA” by the Village People was blasting through my brain. I just prayed I didn’t start dreaming of a cop, an Indian and a construction worker (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

In the middle of the night it started pouring down rain. “Damn,” I said, waking Tracy with a start. “Did we bring the furniture back to the room?”

We were out on the balcony in two seconds.

No, we had not brought it back in, but on this night luck was on our side, and the rain was blowing the other way. The furniture was dry, and within minutes Tracy was sound asleep. I, on the other hand, had a new friend.

Every time I reached sleep mode, the buzzing of a lone mosquito had me swatting at air. This, of course, would awaken Tracy, and even though the lights were off, I felt her “look.”

Fortunately I had gained some weight back and was no longer the “Incredible Shrinking Man,” so I had a fighting chance against this evil, sleep-depriving monster of the night. I finally drifted off to sleep and, by morning, we would know who won this epic battle between man and insect.

COMING UP - DAY SEVENTEEN – BITE ME, PALACE AFORETHOUGHT, LET’S SPLIT SPLIT, JUMP-STARTING OUR VACATION, MORE STAIRS AND OH, I THOUGHT YOU SAID MARIJUANA!

Tom,
I am really enjoying your trip report! Lots of good info, humor and good sportsmanship. You really have a fun word delivery! I am particularly interested because my DH and I will be in Croatia and Slovenia next Apr 22 to May 9. What rental car company did you use? We also would like to go 1 day into Montenegro - hope we have better luck.
Waiting in anticipation for the rest of your report.

Tom:

You're an artist, painting a broad canvas. Great, detailed report. You've succeded in bringing me a flood of memories for all my past trips into the former Yugoslavia (and recently into Croatia/Montenegro, Bosnia and Slovenia)...keep it coming...where are the pics???

Annhig:

Yeah, Tito days..me, too**. In fact you may recall that most everyone you talked to back then would sooner or later proudly say "I fought beside Tito"..but when a fifteen year old who wasn't even born at that time would say it, with chest stuck out...you didn't have the heart to say.."Of course, you didn't!"....

Stu T. (**was there twice in the 70's ..and in '83 after he died)

Thank you Tom, I have been waiting for the rest of your report. My husband and I will now be going to Croatia in May.

nannibray, we used Andrew at Gemut as the broker on this. He was very helpful and is quick in getting back to you.
In Czech Republic, he got us a deal with Budget.
In Croatia, it was Hertz.
There were drop-off fees,of course. It was good that two couples shared in the cost.

Stu T, Yes, the blog with pictures will follow once I finish this report (which should be in the next decade at the rate I am going).

cafegoddess, you will love Croatia. Along with Dubrovnik and Trogir, we also really like Rovinj as a base.
Plitvice was truly out of this world.
Slovenia was terrific, too, just in case you are thinking about traveling to that beautiful country on your trip.

Once I return from a short Chicago trip this weekend, I will get cranking and finish this darned thing. Between work and play, it has taken longer than expected.

Thank you all for the kind words.

The longer your reports are, the better.

I would love to see the photos too, your descriptions are so tempting.

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to Fodor's...

DAY SEVENTEEN – BITE ME, PALACE AFORETHOUGHT, LET’S SPLIT SPLIT, THE TOM/KIM “SHORT-CUT," JUMP-STARTING OUR VACATION, MORE STAIRS AND, OH, I THOUGHT YOU SAID MARIJUANA

(I finally drifted off to sleep and, by morning, we would know who won this epic battle between man and insect).

And the answer was…the insect by TKO. I awoke on this cloudy morning with multiple mosquito bites, but these weren’t the average run-of-the mill Southern California mosquito bites. These babies were huge, and there was one bite so big on the inside of my elbow that I thought I was growing a new appendage. The good news, the West Nile Virus was nowhere to be found in Trogir.

There was no sign of the monster mosquito, but I envisioned he was sitting out on the balcony smoking a cigarette and chatting on a cell phone to his mosquito buddies about his conquest. The funny thing about these bites was that they did not itch; not at all. The only problem was lifting my arm that now had a giant red mass attached to it.

After a nice breakfast cooked by Luka’s wife at the Apartmani Trogir, we took off for the second largest city in Croatia; Split. Our goal for the morning was to see Dioklecijanova Palača, (Diocletian’s Palace). In the late 200s Diocletian wanted a retirement residence to be constructed, but this palace was not going to be Leisure World.

The palace took more than a decade to build, and safety surely was not the order of the day. More than 2,000 people lost their lives building it, but I’m sure Diocletian did not care because he was busy torturing and executing Christians. By the time our car reached the parking area for the palace, the four of us were ready to torture and execute the people who were in charge of sign directions in Split.

We got off at the appointed exit we had been told to take, saw a sign for the palace and then…nothing. There were no signs, but we followed a course that seemed to be going in the general direction of the palace.

Driving through Split, we were very happy we had not made this city our base. Split was big and it will not go down as one of my favorite European cities. We drove down to the harbor, saw no sign of or signs for the palace, figured we had made a wrong turn and headed back.

We did this a few times until we realized our first instincts had been correct. “Just find a parking space anywhere,” Tracy said. “After that big breakfast, the walking will do us good.” Words she would regret only a couple of hours later.

We walked down to the Obala Hrvatskog Narodnog Preporoda (Croatian National Revival Embankment), which is known as the Riva. The promenade has been a focus of controversy because it was recently redone, and many people think it looks too modern. We thought it looked fine, even with the slight smell of sulpher.

We toured Diocletian’s Palace for about an hour, then climbed the stairs to Katedrale Sv. Duje (Cathedral of St. Dominus). The last part of the stairwell was rather precarious, but we again lived to tell about them.

At the top, Kim had me pose with four new “Mrs. Maitais,” whose combined age was younger than some bourbon I have drank in my life. Tracy reminded me again about living in the back of the Honda, and once more my dreams were shattered.

On the way back to the car, we strolled through an outdoor market where I picked up a melon that smelled delicious. The gang was ready to split Split and get back to quaint Trogir for lunch, and it was at this moment that Kim and I made our fatal decision.

“Don’t you think if we walked up this street, it will take us right back to the car?” Kim said.

“Absolutely!” I said stupidly.

The wives were not quite so sure about this and lobbied to go back from whence we came.

“No,” I said stubbornly, “Kim is definitely right.”

About 15 minutes and 20 “looks” later, Kim and I realized we had no clue where the hell we were or where we were going. It was now very hot out and Tracy’s expression made Medusa’s look romantic. Fortunately, I did not turn into stone.

Mary was happy, because now her Dubrovnik “short-cut” was a distant second in walking miscues on this trip.

Eventually we got back on track, found the car and after the mandatory 10 minutes of silence, the couples were once again speaking to each other in civil tones.

We parked back at the apartment and scurried over to Old Town Trogir for a little more exploration of the town and a much-needed lunch. We conquered the stairs of the Cathedral of St. Lawrence (more beautiful views) and then had lunch down on the Trogir Riva. Kim and Mary went back to the apartment first, while Tracy and I finished some wine.

When we arrived about 20 minutes later, Kim was standing next to the car. “What are you doing out here?” I asked.

“You left the lights on,” he said, “and I don’t know where you put the key.”

“No problem,” I thought. I was sure that this car was just like my Honda (where I would live if I ever cheated on Tracy), and the lights would shut off automatically after a few minutes.

We climbed upstairs; I grabbed the keys and said confidently, “I’ll be back in a few seconds.” I hurried downstairs, got in the car, turned off the lights and, just so I could reassure everyone when I returned, I turned the key to start the car.

Holy Buster Keaton, all I could hear was silence. I tried again. No luck. It was 4 p.m. and we were going to leave tomorrow at the crack of dawn to go to Plitvice National Park. Yes, I had a dilemma. Think fast.

Then I remembered. Our apartment was located next to an auto repair shop. I walked briskly over to a few guys standing in front of a dismantled car and asked if anyone could speak English. Of course, they all spoke English and fortunately the young man working at the shop had some jumper cables. “Give me a couple of minutes, “ he said.

By the time I had walked back to the car, he was there on his motorcycle. He hooked up the car to the motorcycle, and I heard the beautiful sound of our rental car’s engine humming. “Keep it on 15 minutes and you’ll be fine,” he said. The charge (pun intended) was about ten bucks.

Right after he left, Kim came down and said, “Well, it looks like everything was ok.” I thought about just answering “yes,” but because we are “the story comes first” type of people, I came clean. He just shook his head; laughed and said, “See you up on the balcony for some wine.”

Later, as we sipped our vino, Kim and Mary said (or I thought they said), “How about Marijuana tonight for dinner?”

“Is that legal in Croatia?” I asked hopefully. Wow, first I’m nearly turned into stone and later I might get stoned. I wondered if Kim had any Grateful Dead songs on that IPOD.

Of course, they didn’t mean marijuana but the restaurant called Marijana. It was a nice way to end an unusual day, and the food was again fine, although Croatia’s food had not been, in our opinion, as good as the food we had eaten in the Czech Republic and Poland. However our resident fish connoisseur Mary was very happy with the choices from the sea in Croatia.

We arrived back at the apartment relatively early, because tomorrow we were going to drive inland and spend the day in Plitvička jezera (Plitvice National Park). As the four of us drifted off that night, we did not have a clue that one of the most gorgeous settings on the planet lay only a few hours away.

COMING UP - DAY EIGHTEEN – ON THE BOARDWALK: PLITVICE PERFECT

Whew.... I almost missed this episode since I logged off at 8 last nite... and don't often backtrack. Am looking forward to the next installment.... since we didn't get to the beautiful forest during our brief visit to Croatia.

Thanks Grandma, I hope the words I write about Plitvice will do justice to its incomparable beauty.

DAY EIGHTEEN – WAKE-UP RING, ON THE BOARDWALK: PLITVICE PERFECT AND THE NIGHTCAP FROM HELL

For once, it was not Tom who awoke Tracy from her deep slumber. Instead, it was the never-ending sound of bells from a nearby church that jarred her from her blissful repose. By the time she had finished counting (why she was counting, I don’t know), she had tallied 144 ring-a-ding dings.

Being my loving companion, she, of course, then woke me up to tell me all about how she was awakened from a deep sleep. I could relate.

Well, no harm done since we were all planning on getting an early start so we could spend a full afternoon at Nacionalni Park Plitvička jezera. We had a quick breakfast at Apartmani Trogir, said good-bye to our hospitable host Luka and started out for Plitvice.

The Apartmani Trogir was another winner for us, and its location next to the car repair shop, once thought to be a detriment, turned out to be our saving grace. It was inexpensive, clean, quiet (well, except for some late night Croatian soccer fans honking their horns), provided a nice breakfast, and I would recommend it, especially for those who like a good deal.

Once again, the sun was shining brightly and the skies were blue. The drive to Plitvice wound through the hills near Trogir, but we soon found ourselves on a new stretch of highway that we were told would cut off a lot of time on our drive. After more than an hour, we drove our car through a tunnel (a very long tunnel) that had been carved out of the mountain. Fortunately, we did not have to utilize one of the many “Exit-Escape” routes that are interspersed throughout the tunnel. It was quite a remarkable display of technology and one of the neatest tunnels I have ever been inside (I’ve always been a sucker for tunnels since the first time I saw “The Great Escape” as a kid).

Once we reached daylight again, the topography was quite different than when we first entered the tunnel. It was greener, lush and much more reminiscent of the Austria countryside than what we had previously seen in Croatia. From the highway exit to Plitvice, it took us just under an hour on a two-lane road through the forest setting to reach our hotel at the park, The Hotel Plitvice. The drive from Trogir had taken exactly two hours and 45 minutes.

At first glance, the Hotel Plitvice resembled a boxy, Communist-era hotel and does not appear to have been updated since the Sixties. I thought the Brady Bunch might appear at any moment as we rambled up the stairs, although I’m not sure if any of them were actual Communists (maybe Marcia, Marcia, Marcia). We were pleasantly surprised when we reached our respective rooms. Both rooms had spectacular views of one of the lakes with just a snippet of a glance at a cascading waterfall. This view gave us only a glimpse of the natural beauty that we were about to see.

Although the hotel had shut down its breakfast service, they offered us the opportunity to eat and, what the heck; you can never have enough hard rolls and jam. Plus, we knew the remainder of the day would be a good workout, so we could afford a few more calories and carbs. The dining room was definitely national park Sixties era, but the views and service provided by the hotel staff more than compensated.

After breakfast, we rambled (there’s lots of rambling in national parks, as you can see) on a paved path about five minutes from the hotel to the actual entrance to the park, where we bought our tickets and waited for the shuttle to transport us to the Donja Jezera (Lower Lakes). I had read in Rick Steves’ book that it was best to start at the Lower Lakes, and although, as I have stated, I don’t follow his restaurant and hotel advice often, his tips on visiting tourist sites have, for the most part, been right on the mark. He didn’t fail us this time, either.

After a short tram ride, we began our hike, and the first views of Plitvice were breathtaking, to say the least. We overlooked a panorama of waterfalls and lakes, not to mention a hell of a lot of tourists walking on the boardwalks that wind through, around and over the lakes and falls.

After a short downhill hike, we saw the signs for Velicki Slap (not a Croatian wrestler, but meaning Big Waterfall), and we took the ten to fifteen minute detour to take pictures and experience the thunderous, cascading water.

The Velicki Slap is the tallest waterfall in Croatia. The numerous lakes are lined with wooden boardwalks with a twofold purpose: one to keep you on the path and away from any unexploded landmines (the first person killed in the war was a forest ranger at Plitvice) and also to preserve the delicate ecological balance of the park. As we walked along the wooden path along the lakes, it didn’t take long for Mary to go into her rendition of the Drifters’ song “On the Boardwalk.” By the way, Mary is the only one in our group who not only can carry a tune, but who actually knows ALL the lyrics.

The Plitvice boardwalk system really is something to behold and something they would never allow in the litigious United States, since there were no rails to keep uncoordinated tourists from falling in. The lakes are incredibly pristine; so pristine that you are not even allowed to touch the water for fear of ruining the ecological balance (so you had better not fall in buddy!). Water in the turquoise lakes was so clear that the school of fish glistening in the afternoon sun were smiling (probably because they knew that they would not be dinner for any of the tourists).

At each and every turn, a new, incomparable vista awaited us with another series of waterfalls tumbling down into the gorgeous lakes. The more we walked, the more people we saw, but thankfully most were going the other way having started at the Upper Lakes, so thank you Mr. Steves for your recommendation.

I don’t have a clue how long it would normally take to navigate the Lower Lakes, because every minute or so one of us stopped to take another in a seemingly never-ending series of photographs. After going through the countless pictures we snapped, Kim and I agreed that even our best photographs could not capture the astonishing beauty that is Plitvice National Park.

When our walk through the Lower Lakes ended, we arrived at a lake that had picnic tables and a place to get some refreshments, including barbecue items that smelled tantalizing. We grabbed some water, and soon found ourselves transported by boat about twenty minutes across Jezero Kozjak (so beautiful that I didn’t even make a Telly Savalas joke) to the Gornja Jazera (Upper Lakes) region of the park.

The tranquility and serenity here is indescribable, and even though we were only half way through our journey at this amazing park, we all commented that Plitvice might be the most fantastic national park we had ever visited.

If possible, the Upper Lakes are even more beautiful than the Lower Lakes. “Unbelievable.” “Incredible.” “Remarkable.” “Stupendous.” You can go through a litany of possible adjectives, and I believe by the end of our hike every superlative known to mankind had been uttered not only by us but also by everyone we encountered on the trails of this wondrous park. Between the Buza Bar and Plitvice National Park, Croatia now had two of the most scenic spots on earth.

Our hike continued past where most tourists call it a day, and we were rewarded with even greater solitude and even grander views from above. Finally, the lakes and waterfalls became less and less prevalent, but by this time we were in “breathtaking scenery overload” mode.

At the end of the trail there was a sign explaining how the park was formed. Centuries ago there was a forested valley with a river running through it (actually, looking at a recent picture of Robert Redford, he might have been there). Over time, limestone was formed which broke off and caused the river to dam up and form the beautiful lakes and waterfalls that compose Plitivice. The unspoiled, white limestone lakes, submerged trees and schools of fish (not only are they happy fish, but educated, too) only add to the exceptional beauty.

We caught the bus back to where our day’s journey began, walked up to the hotel, showered and went out on the hotel balcony for cocktails (surprised?). We spent the late afternoon chatting with other guests on the beauty of this national park. Looking out onto the National Park, the four of us once again counted our lucky blessings for being so fortunate to experience a day like today.

There were other spots we could travel to for dinner in the park, but we decided to dine at our hotel, and that turned out to be a very good choice. The food at the Hotel Plitvice was quite delicious. Kim and Tracy had the Veal “Stake” (obviously a favorite with Count Dracula) with a lemon cream sauce, salad, potato balls and sautéed mushrooms.

Mary, who had begun sprouting gills after all her seafood dishes, decided to go for the pork chop stuffed with sausage (the heart attack special, we called it), and she also had the requisite potato balls.

My motto on this trip was “You can never have too much Gorgonzola,” so I had the beef with Gorgonzola sauce, along with sautéed mushrooms and a salad.

By the time we had finished our meal, the girls were pooped and went back to the rooms, but Kim and I had a quest. Unbeknownst to me, Kim’s only quest was to watch me have a drink. The entire trip, I had wanted to try a drink called Slivovitz.

I had stolen the following quote from somewhere online and had it in my notes: "Real slivovitz contains between 50 and 70% alcohol and can make even hardened drinkers cough and splutter. It will also burst into flames if you wave a lit match over the glass. Good slivovitz should be served in a snifter like any other fine brandy, while low-grade slivovitz should be swilled like any other cheap intoxicant." Yeah baby, bring it on!

Kim somehow finagled his way out of trying this gasoline in a glass, and when I ordered my slivovitz, he asked the bartender if he liked this drink. “Oh no, no; not at all. I wouldn’t drink it,” the bartender answered. Ok, that was not an overwhelming endorsement.

Although it was served in a snifter, I decided to go the “swilled like any other cheap intoxicant” route and chug it down, which I did. In an instant my face turned bright red, I began sweating and the hair on my body stood on end and saluted as if an honor guard was passing in front of me. If anyone had been smoking in my general vicinity, the hotel would have exploded into flames. Now I know how The Incredible Hulk felt during his body transformations.

I also believe I gasped, but right at that moment I was somewhere in limbo between a seizure and a coma. I do have the hazy recollection of Kim and the bartender doubling over in laughter at my alcoholic plight. The good news was that I had not burst into a fireball and that I still retained most of my internal organs.

When I regained my eyesight and 25% of the rest of my faculties, Kim and I walked (one of us in a straight line) back to our rooms. Tracy was heavily involved in her reading, but took the time to ask, “How did the slivovitz experiment go?” She then looked up from her book, saw my slivovitz-induced flushed face, and in her best Rosanne Rosanna Danna imitation said, “Never mind.”

After brushing my teeth for the next couple of hours (slight exaggeration) and staying away from any flammable materials that might be in the room, we slipped into a tranquil sleep in peaceful Plitvice. My recommendation to anyone who travels to this part of the world is, “Do not miss Plitvice!” And, oh yeah, skip the slivovitz!

COMING UP – DAY NINETEEN – A GOOD DAY NOT TO BE A PIG, UNDERRATED AND LOVELY LJUBLJANA, BUSH WACKED, A GREAT B&B, DOWN BY THE LAZY RIVER AND DINING AL FRESCO AT A TERRIFIC RESTAURANT

Do you remember how many hours you spent hiking at Plitvice?

"Do you remember how many hours you spent hiking at Plitvice?"

From the start of the hike at the Lower Lakes until we got to the stop to be picked up at the Upper Lakes was about 3 1/2 - 4 hours hours total (that included a 20 minute boat ride on Lake Telly Savalas and about 10 minutes to grab some water).

You could do the hike faster, but you won't want to. Simply spectacular!

Hi Tom,
Wow, Plitvice sounds amazing. Thank you for the vivid descriptions. Very happy you survived the slivovitz... this place wouldn't be the same without your reports!

Hi, Tom,

Just got my NG Traveler in the mail. The last page displays your favorite lakes.

Ugh....every time I read about Plitvice I kick myself for not visiting! The day we were to go to Plitvice it was pouring down rain so we decided to skip it. Now I think we should have went, rain or shine. Oh well...I guess I'll have to go back so I can visit!

Tom, thanks for the description and for adding on!

Tracy

A little plum brandy did you in??? -

I remember a lovely evening with slivovitz (I think.)

Tracy, you will have to go back. I'm not sure Plitvice would be the same in the pouring rain anyway, so an excuse to get back isn't all bad.

Yeah, that slivovitz certainly took me by surprise. I'll be ready the next time.

We lived for a year in Slovakia and slivovitz was the national drink, I think. Everywhere we went it was religiously offered. Not being much of a drinker at all, I would just take a tiny sip and it burned all the way down. I can hardly imagine what it would have felt like to drink it the way you did!

I'm certainly enjoying your travelogue. I've been to some of the places you are writing about, and will need to go to the rest!

SLIVOVITZ CAUSES MAITAITOM BRAIN DAMAGE: SOME CORRECTIONS TO THE LAST INSTALLMENT

Kim and Mary joined us for dinner last night in Pasadena (yes even after a month of traveling together, we still remain friends) and said they were enjoying reliving the trip through my report. However, they said slivovitz poisoning must have infected my brain on a couple of points from the Plitvice section. The first error was minor, while the second had me shaking my head.

I had said that while hiking at Plitvice, Mary was singing “On the Boardwalk” by the Drifters. Well, Mary (our resident lyric savant) reminded me that while The Drifters sang “Up ON The Roof” and “ON Broadway,” she was actually singing the correct Drifter’s song, “UNDER The Boardwalk” while we walked ON the boardwalk. It made me want to go into a chorus of Over, Under, Sideways, Down by the Yardbirds, but I didn’t.

That minor, directional word-usage error didn’t cause me alarm, but then Kim told me something about the nightcap escapade that I truly did not remember.

In the report I stated that Kim was an innocent onlooker in the downing of the dreaded slivovitz and just was there to laugh at me. “Au contraire,” my friend corrected me last night.

Kim told me that, yes, he did partake in the plum loco after-dinner drinking festivities and was actually the first of us to chug his slivovitz, a fact that obviously had been erased from my memory bank following my subsequent quaffing of this evil potent potable. “I have no recollection of you drinking slivovitz,” I said. His next comment, though, was assurance that he did.

“It was God awful!” He then quickly added, "But I DID laugh at you." You gotta love friends like that.

I mention this only as a cautionary tale that if you drink this crazy plum concoction, you do so at your own risk. Slivovitz-free Day Nineteen will be coming up soon.

Maitai - I love reading your reports so much! and yes, I'm envious that you can take 4 weeks to do such a trip - notice, I didn't say it was a 'vacation'! My employer would begin foaming at the mouth if I even mentioned taking a full month off at once and my allotment is 7 weeks each year! Lucky you!! Please, keep the reports coming!

Come on Tom we hsve let you have a rest!!! I need too finish planning out trip to Croatia in April.
Can't wait to go there even though we were there 4 years ago you have opened it up more for us. Thank you for your report .

Jean

DAY NINETEEN – A GOOD DAY NOT TO BE A PIG, UNDERRATED AND LOVELY LJUBLJANA, BUSH WACKED, A GREAT B&B, DOWN BY THE LAZY RIVER AND DINING AL FRESCO AT A TERRIFIC RESTAURANT

I awoke early, happy to still be alive after the slivovitz show of the previous night. I turned toward Tracy to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Her reply, “Go brush your teeth. Your breath would kill an ox.” Romance was in the air.

We met Kim and Mary for a leisurely breakfast in the Hotel Plitvice restaurant. Croatia would be in the rear view mirror in a couple of hours as we were about to embark on a four-day journey of Slovenia. Our destination today would be Ljubljana.

The first hour of the drive was very scenic at some turns, but it was the more graphic scenery that grabbed the attention of the passengers. About every five to ten minutes I would hear, “There’s a pig on a spit” or “There’s a pig barbecue.” Obviously, grilled pork was big in this part of the land, but being a city guy, I really don’t like to know what my meat (even the "other" meat) looked like only minutes before eating it.

I remember going to a county fair with Tracy in our early dating years. She had been a 4-H club member as a kid, and I remember seeing this cute pig at the fair. “I had a really neat pig, too, when I was in 4-H,” Tracy said.

Being the naïve guy I was, I said, “What did you do with him after the fair?”

“We ate him,” was her not so subtle reply. That was the end of county fairs for me.

Anyway, in the two hours it took to reach Zagreb, the scenery became greener, and the architecture was much more in the Austrian/Swiss style. We got stamped at the Slovenian border, and we were cruising along on their nice, new highway system. Two hours later, we arrived in Ljubljana.

After a couple of Garmin and then human mistakes, we found our lodging for the next two nights, the B&B Slamič. This turned out to be quite a find.

Ljubljana is not an inexpensive town, and I found this place quite by accident online. It had its own, gated parking, and we were then lead upstairs to a doorway that opened on to a foyer with two separate, lovely rooms that had hardwood floors and were nicely decorated.

Downstairs was a café dispensing coffee, pastries and cocktails, and one story above was a lovely breakfast room and outside patio. This was one of, if not the, nicest places we stayed during our four weeks.

The lady who greeted us said, “It’s very fortunate you were not here yesterday.”

“Why not?’ I inquired.

“Your president was here, and it was terrible.” I couldn’t tell if she meant the traffic or the man himself. Yes, we came a day after the George Bush Farewell Tour and judging by the reviews he received over the next couple of days George didn’t go over too well with the Ljubljana natives. At least this time he didn’t mix up the Slovenian prime minister with the Slovakian prime minister (“This job is hard!”).

After our nearly four hour drive, we were hungry, so armed with our Ljubljana map, we headed toward the Ljubljanica River and the heart of town, Prešeren Square. We crossed the Tromostovje (Triple Bridge that was designed by famed Ljbuljanian native-son Jože Plečnik) and plunked ourselves down at a cute riverside café, Stara Macka (Black Cat).

Mary had two giant (and delicious) hamburger patties with baked potato, grilled eggplant and zucchini. Kim decided on the Caesar salad with salmon

Tracy dined on the Stara Macka salad (arugula, pears, apples, grapes, red onions, peppers, blue cheese and goat cheese), while I went straight for a very good rib-eye steak. The local beer Union was just ok in our opinion, as we liked the Pivovarna Laško better.

The entire area was full of young, hip locals (and old, hip travelers), and we also overheard a lot of nattily clad Americans who we surmised were here on government business and decided to stay for a day or two after Bush departed. There are plenty of cafes and bars lining each side of the river, and they spill onto side streets and alleys. We were all pleasantly surprised at how much we enjoyed Ljubljana.

After lunch we walked through the Old Town over to the funicular, which we took up to the castle area (3€). The gang thought they had avoided any stairs, a notion that was quickly dispelled when we saw signs to climb to the top of the castle tower for 3.50 €. The view from the top was lovely, and Ljubljanians say that on a clear day you can see forever (well, really about 1/3 of Slovenia) from here.

Kim and Mary then went their own way, while Tracy and I wandered the streets trying to find a restaurant (Gostilna AS) that had been recommended to us by someone who had lived in Ljubljana for a year.

We crossed the Zamajski Most (Dragon Bridge), a bridge that was originally dedicated to the Emperor Franz Josef. You can find dragons everywhere in Ljubljana thanks to a hero from one of my favorite childhood movies, Jason of “Jason and The Argonauts.” Supposedly, sometime after he stole the famed Golden Fleece (I bought mine at Land’s End), he slew the terrible Ljubljana dragon.

We walked the streets of Ljubljana, but could not find the restaurant. So we did the best next thing and found an outside spot for a late afternoon cocktail (it really is always 5 o’clock somewhere) at the Hotel Slon.

Afterward, we took a circuitous route home past a couple of “Stop” signs that now read “Stop Bush.” Figuring they weren’t NFL fans and didn’t know who Reggie Bush was, we were pretty sure the comments were aimed at the prior day’s visitor. We also passed a wine cellar that we would return to the next day for an interesting demonstration.

When we got back to the B&B Slamič, Kim and Mary had placed a business card under our door. It was for Gostilna AS. We had looked all over for it, but couldn’t find it. They weren’t looking for it, but happened to pass by it.

We freshened up and walked back down toward the river to dine at Gostilna AS, which is located in a little walkway that runs perpendicular to the river. The more expensive AS restaurant is located downstairs and inside, but it was a lovely evening, so we decided to eat at the less expensive, outdoor restaurant. The downstairs restaurant would have to be pretty spectacular to beat its outside brother.

First of all, we had a terrific young waiter by the name of Micha (spelling is a guess), who recommended we try a bottle of San Tomas wine (20 €). It was so good, that we ordered a couple of bottles (shocking). The basket of warm baked goods with breadsticks, crostini, corn muffins and focaccia was quite a nice way to start the meal.

I absolutely loved my gnocchi with Quattro formaggio (Micha told me a small appetizer portion would be a good accompaniment to my entrée choice) to start. Then Kim and I had the “Crazy Veal”, which is a delicious Veal Chop that comes with grilled veggies and a potato with four cheeses (my arteries harden every time I think of this meal).

Mary put her scuba gear on and dove into the Big Sea Platter of fresh fish, while Tracy had the Agliata z rozman (roast beef slices with rosemary on a bed of Arugula (hopefully that won’t be too “elite” for some of you). It also came with the four-cheese potato.

Somehow, even though I was now expanding at an alarming rate, I wasn’t full. Micha suggested I try the vanilla pannecotta with plums. It was a “Wow” dish. Then he surprised the table by bringing over a platter of sweets (chocolate covered strawberries, dark chocolate truffles, walnut pastries, chocolate covered pears and vanilla sugar cookies). Jenny Craig turned over in her grave and she’s not even dead!

Of course, I ordered another glass of wine to help the dessert go down easier. All of this overindulging (plus a hefty tip for Micah) came to about $95 per couple (well worth it!).

We took a very long route home since our waistlines were now bulging. Ljubljana was beautiful after dark, and I implore people to not overlook this underrated town. The people are nice, the B&B Slamič was terrific, and I think Ljubljana is well worth a couple of days and nights as a base.

We were all looking forward to the following day because the four of us were going to visit one of Slovenia’s most famous places, and since the forecast called for rain, this would be the ideal spot to spend the morning.

COMING UP – DAY TWENTY – LOSING OUR HEADS (ALMOST), GEE YOUR SKIN IS SOFT, SURELY YOU JOUST, TEA FOR TWO, SWORD PLAY AND LOST IN TRANSLATION

We too loved Ljubljana. The architecture was exquisite and overall the city is small and just lovely. Would love to return.

Can't wait to read more about Slovenia! I'm assuming you make it up to Bled?

Tracy

DAY TWENTY – LOSING OUR HEADS (ALMOST), GEE YOUR SKIN IS SOFT, SURELY YOU JOUST, TEA FOR TWO, SWORD PLAY AND LOST IN TRANSLATION

The forecast of rain turned out to be correct (yes, miracles occur even in meteorology) as we awoke to a flurry of showers. We met in the cozy breakfast room for cereal, croissants, hard rolls and yogurt, and then it was time for Postojnska Jama, which was not something we put on our rolls. We were about to travel a little less than an hour southwest to the famed Postojna Caves.

There are two large cave systems to choose from in Slovenia, Postjna or Škocjan, which is a little further from Ljubljana. Tourists have visited these caves since the early 1800s. After parking, we crossed a little river in the rain and scurried to buy our tickets for the next time slot. Ticket for entrance to the caves is 19€.

To enter the cave, all the cattle (I mean passengers) are herded on to a little train that twists and turns its way into the cave system. I don’t know how fast it travels, but it’s got some zip. The train ride was really neat, although you felt like you could be decapitated at any instant, which makes any ride just a bit more thrilling.

In fact, passengers are warned to keep their heads down, all the while keeping your extremities inside the train at all times. Kim, at 6 foot 3”, also attempted to take photographs while the train weaved very close to overhanging rocks, and he came precariously close to making Mary an instant widow (I think for 19€ she would have finished the tour, however).

Once inside, the groups are split into groups by language. Our tour guide was a terrific (and bright) young man who also led tours in French and Slovenian. He guided us on the paths and bridges that weaved through the unworldly stalagmite and stalactite realm. He told us that Russian prisoners of war had built these walkways during World War II.

We went passed through many different galleries, each one pretty spectacular. The tour takes about 90 minutes and is not strenuous at all.

The caves were both very cool and…very cool. Temperatures hover around the 46-degree mark, so taking a sweater or jacket is a wise move. At one point Tracy felt my arms and said, “Your skin feels like it has been rejuvenated.” And she was right.

Between the salt mines in Kraków and these caves, something in the cool, moist air was making my skin softer and younger looking (Geez, that sounds like an Oil of Olay commercial). “If I spend a week in these caves,” I told Tracy, “you could be married to a 20-year-old.”

Our guide also told us that algae was infiltrating the caves, and if they are not very careful, at some point they might have to be closed to the public, which would be terrible for my now youthful skin. After one last look at a subterranean lake, we hopped back on the Guillotine Express. Kim has a great picture of a woman behind us who looks as if the next corner will do her in. Luckily, we all survived.

The rain was still pelting down when we emerged from our underground adventure, so we drove a little further on the small two lane road through the lush countryside (between the scenery and our foursome, lush was the key word on our trip) to our next destination, Predjamski grad (Predjama Castle).

Located about six miles (or about ten kilometers) from the caves, Predjama is an imposing looking castle built into the side of rocks. Predjama Castle was the last known hideout for Erazem, who fancied himself as a Robin Hood-type character, although he actually was a thieving baron. Erazem killed the emperor’s cousin in a duel and used this place as a base to lead raids on nobility and merchants.

In the end, Erazem got it in the end. One day, while sitting on the can, soldiers sent a cannonball through the thin walls into the latrine, and Erazem was killed where he sat. That’s the straight poop or as much straight poop as any legend can have.

As you walk to Predjama from the parking lot you pass by bleachers where people attend jousting matches in the summer. Alas, there was no jousting today, but we were hungry anyway, so it was time to get back to Ljubljana.

Kim and Mary wanted to go see an art exhibit, so they stopped and had a quick Mexican cuisine lunch (Si, I don’t make ‘em up). Tracy and I strolled over to the river and onto a little sidestreet where we found a little teahouse that had been recommended by the same girl who had turned us on to Gostilna AS.

The Cajna Hisa Pod Velbom was a nice place to take refuge on a rainy day. We both had chicken curry salad and a nice glass of red wine. I guess we really didn’t have tea for two after all.

By now, it had stopped raining so we walked around Ljubljana some more until we hit our next stop, the aforementioned Enoteca, located down a flight of stairs at Nazorjeva 12. Inside we met the proprieter, Sasha, who educated us on wines from the region.

He recommended we taste both a Carolina (not from North or South Carolina, but western Slovenia) white and red wine, and they both were quite good. We had told him that our next stop was Lake Bled, where we were going to learn Sabrage (how to open champagne and wine with a sword ) from a monk at the castle (well Tracy was going to learn that art, as I would surely kill an innocent tourist in the process).

Sasha said that he was sure the monk would charge some money for that demonstration, while he said he could perform Sabrage for free right here in the cellar. I stood a safe distance away as Zorro (I mean Sasha) whipped out his blade, slid his trusty saber toward the front of the bottle and cleanly separated the cork and collar from the neck of the bottle of wine.

“Now you can try that at your next dinner party,” Sasha said. Impaling guests is not my forte, and I said I would just be happy with the memories of Sasha’s sword expertise. Sasha recommended we dine at Cubo restaurant, located a couple of kilometers from the center of town. I wish we had followed his advice.

Instead we opted for something closer to our B&B, and it turned out to be a mistake. Fortunately for Kim and Mary, they were dining at another place on this evening.

Tracy and I were told Gostilna Sestica was a “traditional Slovenian restaurant.” At first, everything seemed normal. A cute hostess seated us in a lovely courtyard. There were quite a number of locals dining here. That was as normal as dinner would get on this evening.

The restaurant has supposedly been open since 1776, which coincidentally was the year our waiter was born. He appeared to speak perfect English, pointing out specials and answering all of our questions. It was then that something was “Lost In Translation.”

The waiter, who might have been the slowest moving human in Slovenia, would bring out one dish at a time to the various tables at a pace that would bore a snail. Our wine, which we had ordered about 20 minutes before still had not appeared, so we asked if Igor (not his real name, but we had lots of time to come up with fictional names) could please bring it over, which he eventually did.

Another twenty minutes passed. Then it was half an hour. Igor would appear periodically to serve other tables, but we were inexplicably passed by. “Do I still have the breath that could kill an ox?” I asked Tracy. She assured me I was not the cause.

Finally, after an hour, Igor started to bring out our dinner; only the dinner he brought out was not the dinner we ordered.
Tracy’s arugula salad turned out to be watercress and radicchio salad. My beef noodle soup turned out to be, well it turned out to be nothing because he never brought me my beef noodle soup.

We asked Igor about Tracy’s salad, and he said that it was arugula. Trust me, even an Obama detractor from Iowa would know that it was not arugula. I was going to ask about my soup, but the main course came soon after Tracy’s fake Arugula salad arrived.

Tracy had ordered risotto with chicken and mushrooms. She was served rice with chicken and tomatoes. My “Steak Ljubljana Style” was supposed to be (according to that wacky menu) beef with roasted potatoes. Instead, I had a veal cordon bleu with polenta. When I asked Igor about this dish, he insisted that this was the “Steak Ljubljana Style.” I decided not to argue, and we decided not to have dessert here for fear we would be served pickled herring in a chocolate-raspberry sauce.

As soon as the bill was paid (unfortunately for Igor, his tip was rather paltry) we rushed back to Gostilna AS where I had another delicious panecotta, while Tracy ordered an incredible chocolate soufflé with crème anglaise and strawberries (a “Wow” dish to be sure). A couple of Irish coffees later and our “Lost In Translation” dinner was a faded memory (well, I guess not too faded).

We strolled the streets of Ljubljana again until about 11 and headed back to the b&b. The following day would be the short drive to Lake Bled, a drive that would be made just a tad bit longer by the surprising cameo appearance by a suave, Slovenian police officer.

COMING UP – DAY TWENTY-ONE – COPPING A PLEA, TAKING THE CAKE, RAINDROPS KEEP FALLING ON MY HEAD AND THE OLD, FAKE FIREPLACE TRICK BACKFIRES

Maitaitom,

I've been enjoying this thread for weeks now - thank you so much. I feel like I was on the trip with you. Keep it coming!

-Chels

Thanks Chels. Has it only been weeks? We're finally at the home stretch with only Bled, Rovinj and Venice to go. At this pace, I should be done with the report by Thanksgiving (not sure of which year, however). Thanks for hanging in there.

No worries, Tom. I'm already giving thanks for this terrific trip report

Tom, I'm almost embarrassed. I am enjoying your trip report so much that I feel like I should be putting something in your tip jar.

My maternal grandfather was born in Karlovac, Croatia, just a hop SW of Zagreb. I knew that entire area would be lovely, and it looks so through your eyes! I look forward to discovering it for myself.

Can't wait to read more, and yet, sad that it will soon come to an end.

Thanks again for the free entertainment! (nobody talking on their cell phone, throwing popcorn or giggling like schoolgirls- oh, wait, forget that last one...)

Paula

DAY TWENTY ONE – COPPING A PLEA, TAKING THE CAKE, RAINDROPS KEEP FALLING ON MY HEAD AND THE OLD, FAKE FIREPLACE TRICK BACKFIRES

Overcast skies greeted us on this morning and after breakfast at the B&B Slamič, we were on the highway for the short one hour jaunt to Lake Bled. As we neared the Bled turnoff, the highway quickly shrunk from four lanes down to two, and after another 100 yards, off to the side of the road, I spotted a man in uniform.

As it turned out, he had spotted me as well, and, holding a little sign, he waved me toward him. Knowing he was not the official Lake Bled greeter, but not thinking I had committed any driving infraction, I pulled over.

I rolled my window down and said, “Dober-Dan.” Well, I think that’s what I said.

DIGRESSION: By the end of our four weeks in the Czech Republic, Poland, Slovenia and Croatia, we were pretty messed up with which language we were attempting to speak, especially when it came to saying “Good day and hello.”

In Czech, it was “Dobrý den.” In Polish, it was “Dzień dobry.” In Croatian, it was “Dobar dan” and in Slovenian the aforementioned “Dober-dan.” With all the brain cells killed throughout these countries, we had been known to mix up our “Dobers” with our Dobrýs and our “dans” with our “dens.”

So, by the time I encountered the officer, I could have said something like “Daffy Duck” or “`Dizzy Dean” for all I know, but I think he knew what I said, because he just said “Hello.”

This guy had a really cool voice. If you are a fan of Magnum P.I. (or even if you’re not) he sounded exactly like the Soviet agent who blew up Magnum’s buddy Rick in the Ferrari and who called Magnum “Thomas” in an inimitable way (until today). It is the greatest Magnum P.I. episode ever; a two-parter entitled “Did You See The Sunrise?”

The officer asked me for my driver’s license, international license and my passport. Fortunately he did not ask for my first born because I don’t have one. On the outside I was Magnum cool. On the inside, I was Don Knotts’ nervous.

“Thomas,” he said slowly in his unmistakable movie star voice. “Do you know what you did?”

I did not.

“When you see signs that the highway is narrowing to only two lanes, it is a ‘No Passing Zone’.” I hadn’t passed any other cars, and he was around a corner so I don’t know how he would have known if I passed a car anyway, but getting into an argument with a Slovenian cop did not seem like the prudent course of action.

After checking all of our passports, he continued. “Thomas (although nervous, I really enjoyed hearing him say my name),” usually the fine for what you did is 20 euros.”

Like a great Shakespearean actor, he then took a dramatic pause, looked away for a split second, turned back toward me and added, “But today is your lucky day and I am going to let you go with just a warning.”

If only he had said, “Well, do you feel lucky? Well, do you punk?” I guess hoping he would impersonate a Clint Eastwood character would have just been too much to ask. At least he didn't blow up our car.

We drove (carefully) the rest of the way to Bled and our hotel, the charming and inexpensive Hotel Berc. According to my wife’s notes, it was a “gorgeous, Swiss chalet style hotel with an abundant amount of natural woodwork with a pretty garden setting in the back offering breathtaking views of the mountains.” I will stand by her account.

Our host, Luka (our second Luka of the trip), was very apologetic about the inclement weather saying, “It had been very warm up until the past few days.” We had been very lucky to this point, so que sera.

As we started walking toward the lake, a deluge of water drenched us as a substantial rainstorm hit the area. By the time we reached the Panorama restaurant, the four of us were soaked, but we were on a quest that neither rain nor sleet nor hail could keep us from (well, maybe sleet or hail, but since it was only rain, we continued).

I had read and been told about a Lake Bled specialty called kremna rezina (or kremšnita). It is a layer cake, but unlike any layer cake we have ever experienced. This cake has a layer of cream and another of vanilla that resides inside a delicate crust. It is said you can buy them elsewhere, but that the only genuine ones are found in Bled. The name is derived from the German word Cremeschnitte, or “cream slice.”

The kremna rezina was absolutely incredible and surprisingly light. Never have 50,000 calories gone down so easily. It absolutely just melted into my mouth, and I have craved this dish ever since coming back to Southern California. I told Tracy that I would return to Bled just to experience a kremna rezina again. The flavor was magnificent and with an espresso to go with it, it makes for an unbeatable combination in the morning (or afternoon…or night).

Back outside it was still pouring, and even though we had just consumed all those calories, it was time for lunch. We quickly hurried inside the Park Hotel (where kremna rezina was invented in 1953) and sat down at a window overlooking the lake.

The décor of the Park Hotel Restaurant is '80s Las Vegas chic with turquoise and lavender the prevalent color scheme. All that was lacking were some slot machines, a Keno girl and Wayne Newton. Fortunately, the view onto the lake kept our group from going temporarily color blind.

The food was good, however. I had pasta with blue cheese; Tracy opted for a beef broth with pommes frites, Kim a cheese omelet and Mary a veggie soup with salad.

It was now nearing mid-afternoon, and there was no sign of a let up from the rain. On the way back to the Hotel Berc, Kim and I found a little restaurant that looked perfect for dinner. Since we rarely ever knew what day of the week it was, Kim and I did not go in and get reservations, which would have been smart because it was a Friday night and Bled is a big resort town for Slovenians, Austrians, Germans and as we found out, Brits. There was also a huge rowing event taking place on this particular weekend.

We went back to the room for a little R&R and I got caught up with some work on the free Internet provided downstairs just outside a lovely breakfast room. About 6 p.m. we meandered back down to the lake because the weather had cleared some, and there were now spectacular views of the Julian Alps, the castle on the hill overlooking Bled and the signature piece of land here, the island with the church on the lake (well, actually the island is on the lake and the church is on the island and the hand bone’s connected to the arm bone).

We stopped into a little pub and watched some soccer (of course, no one scored while we watched). Across the street from the pub was the restaurant where Kim and I decided earlier we would eat. By now it was really cold outside, and Kim had and I, in our best unscripted Abbott and Costello started adlibbing, a mistake that would soon bite us right in the ass and still lives in infamy today.

I believe Kim started this impromptu routine by saying, “There’s the restaurant we booked for tonight, Tom. I hope our table is ready.”

Then (in a moment of sheer stupidity) I added, “Yes, tell them we have the reservations by the fireplace. We’re just going to take a couple of more pictures.” Now as you might remember, we had no reservations and we did not have a clue if they had a fireplace.

“Great,” Tracy said, “I am freezing.” “Me too,” Mary added.

Like a couple of dolts, we stayed behind to take some pictures of the mountains and lake. Meanwhile back at the restaurant (Ostarija Peglezn), there were two freezing women sitting out on the patio, shivering and none too pleased with their respective spouses when we approached a few minutes later.

Our wives had gone inside and Tracy had asked for the “table by the fireplace” we had reserved. Well, of course, there was no reserved table…and no fireplace. They did have a table, however. Outside. On the patio. The very cold patio. Well, it was freezing.

Speaking of freezing, for about the next twenty minutes I received the deep freeze from Tracy. She was even too cold to give me the look or call me an idiot. That spells trouble for Tom.

“Isn’t the view wonderful?” I said to Tracy. “Look at how spectacular the mountains look tonight.” I might as well have been talking to the mountain. I hadn’t been in this much hot water since the famous “Rome Train Station Sherpa Incident of 2005.”

Thankfully, our charming waiter, great wine and terrific food thawed her out. She began speaking to me again through Kim and Mary, so a quick Slovenia divorce had been narrowly averted.

I started with a goulash soup and then ordered at the beef peppercorn steak with polenta.

Tracy had a really terrific dish of sliced beef on a bed of arugula (thankfully this place knew the difference between arugula and watercress).

Mary stayed the fish course with a fish soup and seafood risotto. Kim either didn’t eat or we forgot to write it down (I assume it was the latter, since Tracy had not completely thawed out from the fireplace incident).

This was all washed down by a couple of bottles of very good cabernet that our waiter called “gorgeous.”

“Just like my wife,” I added. She shook her head. She wasn’t buying that romantic drivel for a minute.

We liked the restaurant so much we made reservations for the following evening…inside!

As soon as we walked in the door of the Hotel Berc, the rain started up again, and we hoped it would let up tomorrow so we could get a better view of beautiful Bled. We had things to do, places to see and only one more day to do it!

COMING UP – DAY TWENTY TWO – TOO EARLY FOR CHAMPAGNE, GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIME, WALK AROUND THE LAKE, PUBBING IT AND HERE COMES THAT RAINY DAY FEELING AGAIN

I had to find a reference for your delicious description:

http://bled2004.ikpir.com/aboutbled.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kremna_rezina

I believe we had the kremna rezina while in Bled as well. Super yummy! I also distinctly remember having a cup of the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted while eating my cake in that restaurant in Slovenia. It was freezing when we were there too, although of course this could have been because it was November. I wish I knew the name of that restaurant, because I've been having fantasies of returning ever since...

Tracy

Tracy, As I sip an espresso this morning, I dream of the kremna rezina.

ellenm, Maybe I'll make that picture of the kremna rezina my screen saver.

Paula, You will love this little corner of the world. Glad you're enjoying the story, sans the thrown popcorn.

Wow, the kremna rezina cake sounds divine. YUM!
We considered a daytrip from Hallstatt to Lake Bled on our past trip in May, but it would have involved a lot of driving and there was so much to see in the Hallstatt area. I confess I am feeling a slight tinge of regret after reading about that cake though, LOL!

Hi Tom,
I have been enjoying and following your trip report. It is awesome!!
In fact, I find much info useful for my trip to Croatia and Slovenia next April - May.
You suggested on my THREAD - Help with itinerary etc. that we stay 1 night in Ljubljana. I LOVE your choice in Bled and will book the Hotel BERC! It looks wonderful!
BUT - I am stumped where to stay in Ljubljana. Rick Steves recommends Hotel Emonec. (Not too thrilled with it)
You stayed in the B&B Slamic. I can't find a web site for it. It is reviewed on "trip advisor" but I can't find map, prices, pictures, location...etc. When I use google it doesn't help - just sends me to reviews on trip advisor.
Do they have a web address? Could you share it please?

As I said, your report has given me a sense of where to go and for how long. Thanks!
Nannibray

Hi nannibray,

www.slamic.si

Great location in the Old Town.

I'm only up to day 12! But I really have to stop and do some reading now or I'll get behind in my class.

Truly enjoying this Tom! I'll come back expecting more soon

Hi Tom!
FABULOUS report, what a labour of love! Thankyou for sharing!

Tom:

If you ever return to Dubrovnik, please look me up as I would like to show you the hidden gems. I so wish I had found this forum prior to your arrival in my new home.

Puna pozdrava

Carol
An American Living in Dubrovnik

Toucan, By the time I get back to this, you'll be caught up.

Kavey, not only is it a labor of love, but I feel like I'm giving birth.

croatiantravelady, We will be back. Guaranteed!

Busy work week, but in the near future I promise to get to the final week of our trip, before I grow too old to remember. Thanks to those brave few who have stayed with our story.

Not the "brave few" but the "eager many"!

Count me among the "eager many"

I am of two minds about this TR. I am quite impatient for it to continue (after all, it has been EIGHT days since the last installment), but on the other hand, dreading its fast-approaching end, like a really great book that you've hardly been able to put down.

All the same, Tom, I'm looking forward to tale of the DAy 22.

All right Tom, I'm back and I'm all caught up...where are you?

Tom,

I stumbled upon this thread (im a newbie, as you might have guessed, your account is way too funny. I went back to the very beginning of the trip report to read Day 1.

You mentioned you're from southern calif, whereabouts are you? i'm in Orange County.

Awaiting Day 23 with bated breath.

"All right Tom, I'm back and I'm all caught up...where are you?"

I had to rush back to Washington D.C. to help straighten out the budget mess.

What? That's already been used?

Truthfully, this past week I had to focus on work. Starting Sunday or Monday, I promise to bring closure to this darned thing.

Please sir, some more.

Did you get it solved? The budget mess I mean? Should I turn to CNN right now? How exciting!

Tom, great report, as usual! I hadn't gotten around to reading it, but I plan to go to Dubrovnik and Split in July, so decided it was time I did. I can't wait to enjoy a drink at the Buza Bar!

DAY TWENTY TWO – TOO EARLY FOR CHAMPAGNE, GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIME, CAN YOU GIVE ME A LIFT, WALK AROUND THE LAKE, PUBBING IT AND HERE COMES THAT RAINY DAY FEELING AGAIN

By morning the rain had subsided, and we decided to get an early start because Luka had said the forecast called for more rain by the middle of the day. Our local Southern California goofball weather forecasters are about as accurate as my golf shots (that would basically be never), but so far on this journey, the reports had been almost perfect.

I was the first one down at the charming Berc Breakfast room, but it started filling up with travelers. One man, who I believe was German (I had run into him the previous day at the computer), walked into the room, saw me sitting at the first table and said, “Good morning.”

I am very happy to inform those Europeans on the board who believe Americans don’t respond to such early morning greetings, that, although sluggish from a tad bit too much wine the previous evening, I looked up from my caffeine and replied, “Good morning.”

The rest of our gang joined me shortly thereafter, and we partook of a breakfast buffet that included fruit salad, cereal, yogurt, meats, cheeses and hard-boiled eggs. The Hotel Berc gets high marks for everything from the rooms to the buffet to Luka, who was a terrific host.

Our plan had been to take the pletna boats to the island first thing in the morning, but because of the previous night’s rain, the pletna gondoliers were still bailing water out of most of them. Not wanting to drown on a full stomach, we decided to postpone the island trip for a bit.

Still loaded down by all those excess carbs, we walked over to St. Martin’s Church where we caught the steep trail leading up to the Blejski Grad (Bled Castle). In Rick Steves’ guidebook, he said it was a 20-minute walk to the castle. We made it in ten. For those who can’t hike (or for the extremely lazy), it is possible to drive up here, too, but that is not allowed on Tom’s Tuscan-Slovenian-Croatian-Czech-Polish Tours (I better come up with a shorter name by the next trip).

Entrance to the castle is 7€. The interior of the castle was entirely forgettable with uninteresting displays. However, the views of Lake Bled and the little island were incredible from the castle patio.

This is also the place where the monk entertains visitors by performing Sabrage on champagne bottles for 15€ a pop. We walked over and talked with the monk, who was quite funny, but we decided that since it was just a little after 9 a.m., it was a tad too early for champagne (yes, even we have our alcohol limits, albeit they are very narrow limits to be sure).

We took the path back down to the lake, where the pletnas were now devoid of excess water and starting to take off for the island. Our pletna gondolier waited for the boat to fill up, and when enough people were on it to make it worthwhile for him, we were off on the short ride to the Otok (the island).

Our skilled gondolier weaved his way through a rowing competition and delivered us to the island safely.

When he dumped us off, he said we had thirty minutes until he would head back to shore. The island big-ticket item is the Church of Assumption and its famous 96 stairs, where grooms supposedly carry their brides all the way to the top from the lake.

We started to climb the stairs, but I thought it would be fun to pick Tracy up for a photo opportunity that would dazzle our friends when we got home. This way I could tell them I carried Tracy up 96 stairs (yes, I know they wouldn’t believe it, but what the heck). I would muster up all my superhuman strength and attempt to pluck my lovely wife and lift her skyward as Kim captured the moment on his camera. It would be a magical moment.

With one fell swoop I lifted and, well let me just say, it is only a mild hernia. Tracy was laughing so hard she could barely get off her trademarked line, “You’re such an idiot.”

A couple of minutes later Mary delivered even more distressing news. “Tom, these are not the right set of stairs,” she said. “The 96 stairs you were talking about are on the other side of the island.”

I was incredulous. Not only had I ruptured my spleen, pulled a groin and thrown my shoulder out of whack, but I did it all on the wrong stairs.

I limped over to the other side of the island, where we climbed (slowly) the correct 96 stairs (there was no more lifting, however) to the church. Although you can go inside, we did not. Many did, however, because the bell kept clanging and clanging thanks to the folklore that if one rings the bell three times, their wish will come true. I thought about going in and wishing for a new body, but realized I was too far gone to be helped.

The round-trip pletna experience cost us 12€ per person, and if you come to Bled, it is something you should do. I would pass, however, on the lifting experience unless you are in better shape than myself or are married to one of the skeletal stars of 90210.

The weather was threatening, but we decided to take the 3½-mile hike around the lake. This is a very easy hike and took us about 90 minutes to accomplish.

Along the route, we went inside the Vila Bled, which was the former residence of Tito (the dictator, not the Jackson 5 member). It is now a hotel, where I almost booked us, and, after visiting, we were glad we did not stay here. Although we had friends who said they had a wonderful time at this hotel, it was just a little too posh and polished for our tastes.

Speaking of tastes, we had nearly completed the loop around the lake when the skies opened up, so we went in search of cover…and lunch. We had met some Brits on the pletna ride, and they recommended a pub that served a really good lunch, Gostilna pri Planincu, which has been around since 1903 (or so it said on its façade).

Inside, there were license plates on the ceiling, which always says to me “delicious cuisine.” Because of the inclement weather, the inside of the pub was packed, so, in what was now becoming a Bled tradition, we ate outside in the freezing weather, but at least under an awning that kept the rain from pouring down upon our table. License plates not withstanding, the food actually was very good.

On a cold day, nothing can beat a bowl of goulash soup, and the one I ordered did not disappoint. It was chock full of beef chunks and made me forget for the moment that I was losing feeling in many of my extremities.

Mary and I, thanks to a recommendation of a gentleman from Portugal sitting at the next table, had a local specialty of far too many sausages that, I believe, are still residing in my system to this very day. Kim went for the garlic soup, grilled chicken and French fries while Tracy had the grilled calamari with potatoes and spinach.

We had a nice, long talk with the Portuguese guy who was in Bled on business. One of the things we love so much about travel is the interesting and diverse people we meet along the way.

The walk back to the hotel was interesting since the wind had picked up and was blowing the pouring rain into our faces. By the time we trudged back to Hotel Berc, it looked like the four of us had taken a swim in Lake Bled.

After a nice afternoon nap and terrible movie on the making of the television show Dynasty, we all met in the backyard of the Hotel Berc and sipped some wine. The hotel also had a little stash of alcohol in the breakfast room. Whether it’s booze, orange juice or water, if you take anything from the little bar area or refrigerator, you are on the honor system to write it down.

For dinner that evening we went back to the Ostarija Peglezn, where we had dined the previous evening. This time, however, we were seated indoors, much to the delight of a certain Mrs. Maitai.

My choice of dinner perplexed our waiter and everyone else at the table. I ordered gnocchi with pancetta to start and followed that up with arugula gnocchi with four cheeses.

“Are you sure you want two gnocchi dishes for dinner?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. You can never have to much gnocchi.

Mary dined on a grilled, fresh tuna steak on a bed of grilled veggies. Tracy had the beef on a bed of arugula, while Kim enjoyed his cheese gnocchi and grilled salmon.

I finished it off with a great dessert called Charlotte Cake. It was similar to panecotta and had a terrific strawberry sauce drizzled on it. The days of having my pants slip off due to my skinny frame were long gone. I was now “The Incredible Expanding Man.”

As we walked back to Hotel Berc, we could see some clear sky opening up through the cloud cover. We were leaving Bled in the morning for our drive to Rovinj, Croatia, but we did hope we could get a glimpse of this lovely place on a clear day before departing.

COMING UP – DAY TWENTY THREE – SWAN SONG, CAKE WALK, GORGING OURSELVES, HORSING AROUND, THE ROAD TO ZANIBAR AND LOCATION! LOCATION! LOCATION!

My husband hates it when I'm laughing out loud while I read. He's pretty annoyed at the moment. Looking forward to the next installment!

"My husband hates it when I'm laughing out loud while I read.."

You might want him to leave the house when I actually post that picture of me trying to carry Tracy up the stairs.

Thank you for the fair warning!

My husband also believes you can never have too much gnocchi.

Tom,

You and I must be brothers from different mothers, because I too feel there is no such thing as too much gnocchi.

Tom

Tom and Tracy:


I'm still with you on your superb reporting...I've seen most everything you guys have experienced on your trip, YET seeing it through your eyes adds a very pleasant dimension...most particulalrly on Slovenia/Croatia.

Where are the pics!!

Now to the GNOCCHI GNEWS! Since you are nearby Pasadenians, the very best and greatest variety of gnocchi can be found in Sherman Oaks, 14533 Ventura Boulevard.."SPUMONI's...a little place offering 10 different GNOCCHI dishes...a whole menu page! My fave is the pesto.

Whenever you get the incurable "gnocchi urge", head west on Ventura Freeway, get off at Van Nuys Boulevard, turn left (under the freeway) and drive to Ventura Boulevard (less than a mile)...turn right and stop in at SPUMONI'S, parking in the rear.

I live just up the hill at Beverly Glen Blvd/Mulholland...write me when you decide to try it out, and Roz and I will try to join you.

Thanks once again for this unmatchable report!

stu tower

"Whenever you get the incurable "gnocchi urge".....

stu, the "gnocchi urge" is always with me. This is a busy time of year for me at work, but when it subsides (unlike the "gnocchi urge), rest assured we would be happy to join you guys for a gnocchi interlude. Thanks for the nice words.

As for pictures, I have to finish up Rovinj and Venice for this report, and then I will get the blog up with photos(still have to cut down on the pictures, but there are so many good ones, it is hard to do). And Tracy wants me to get moving on the video! These trips really never end!

T and T:

>>>These trips really never end!<<<

...and then it's time to plan for the next one. We "did" Portugal and UK this past May, and we were planning Russia, Belarus and Ukraine for next spring...but in August I got a 2-for-1 offer from Viking, I couldn't refuse...for October 14..leaving a week from Sunday. Talk about a "Chinese Fire Drill" to get ready!
The visa application for Belarus (decidedly third world) required an answer to an essay question.."Why do you want to visit Belarus?"
SAY WHAT?
Fact is we're taking the river trip Moscow to St. Pete (my third visit to what was USSR..first visit since the end of the Red regime)...then we're going off indepdendently to the aformentioned happy satellites. (we'll be back on Election Day)

Anytime you're ready to go "gnocch-ing..write..

Stu Tower rozstu1@aol.com








essa

DAY TWENTY THREE – SWAN SONG, CAKE WALK, GORGING OURSELVES, HORSING AROUND, THE ROAD TO ZANIBAR AND LOCATION! LOCATION! LOCATION!

Sunshine! Blue skies! Finally! So this is what Lake Bled looks like on a beautiful day? It was stunning.

Up very early, we strolled about half way around the lake, taking new and improved sunshine pictures of the lake, the castle, the island and anything else we could find. I know Eddie Rabbitt loved a Rainy Day, but as beautiful as Lake Bled was the past couple of days in the dampness, being here on a perfectly sunny day is ten times better.

As we meandered on the lakeside path, a family of swans (well, they looked like a family because they were fighting) approached us, apparently looking for someone to give them a breakfast treat. Heeding the warning signs not to feed the swans anything but dandelion leaves, so, being the suckers we are, Tracy picked up a handful of leaves and threw them to the hungry little guys.

They gobbled it up faster than me scarfing down a kremna rezina. “This must be swan arugula,” she said.

Speaking of kremna rezina, it was almost 10 a.m. when we strolled up to the Hotel Park, the birthplace of my new favorite food on earth (ok, maybe it was tied with gnocchi). I was having cake withdrawal syndrome, and it wasn’t pretty.

It was already about 20 degrees warmer than it had been at anytime since we had arrived. We sat down at a table on the outside patio with a beautiful view of the lake and the morning’s rowing competition. Fortunately the waitress, sensing my kremna rezina withdrawal symptoms, immediately stopped by the table to take our order. If anyone is traveling to Bled in the near future, please Federal Express me some kremna rezina. Life has not been the same without it.

What a way to end our short stay in Bled! Beautiful weather, two double espressos and kremna rezina.

We wanted to stay, but there was a full day of sightseeing activities ahead of us, and this was no time to dawdle. We bade farewell to Luka and the terrific Hotel Berc to head toward our first stop of the day, Vintgar Gorge, which, Luka told us, was only a few minutes away. Well, it would have been only a few minutes had we followed the correct signs.

Once there, we walked to the little shack where you pay the 4€ admittance fee and within a few seconds we were in the midst of picturesque scenery. Although not hyped by many, the four of us thought Vintgar Gorge was one of the super highlights of our four weeks.

Similar to Plitvice, there was a boardwalk with handrails, and the path paralleled the river Radovna. Bridges crisscrossed this fast flowing river that also contains a number of waterfalls. The views were stunning, and this hike rivaled Plitvice for the number of photos taken. We walked all the way to a big waterfall. It took approximately one hour (due to the many photo opportunities along the way) from the entrance to the large waterfall. The return hike to the parking lot took about 25 minutes. For those of you who travel to Bled, I highly suggest a side trip to Vintgar Gorge.

Back in the car, we headed toward Ljubljana, where we got on the highway pointed toward our next destination on the way to Rovinj, Croatia. About an hour south of Ljubljana was the turnoff to Lipica, home of the Kobilarna Lipica (Lipica Stud Farm) and the famed Lipizzaner stallions.

This had been high on Tracy’s list because she grew up around horses, which is probably why I looked and smelled good to her when we first met. Tracy had performed at numerous horse shows in Northern California growing up, so she was very high on seeing these prancing phenoms.

The stud farm was located about ten minutes off the main highway, and we were on pace to be able to see the horses out in the field and catch the show at 3 p.m. We walked over to the paddock area where a bunch of the Lipizzaner mares were hanging out, and after about ten minutes of petting and picture taking, we trotted over to the concession stand to get a bite to eat.

Unless you haven’t eaten for a few days, I recommend skipping the food here. Abysmal would be a kind description. And, as for souvenirs, this place needs some marketing expertise to help them out.

The 3 o’clock show was about to begin, so we bought our tickets for 16€ each and entered the Lipizzaner Dome (not its real name) for the half hour extravaganza. Here is where reports of the show might differ among those of us who have attended this show.

For about ten of those minutes, a couple of carriages being pulled by these nags (excuse me, incredibly talented steeds) crisscrossed (slowly) around the Horsey Dome (not its real name). Charlton Heston in Ben Hur, it was not.

For another ten minutes, the Mr. Ed look-alikes performed dressage while riders whose personalities would make Brit Hume look jovial (actually, the horses bore an uncanny resemblance to the Fox pseudo journalist) pretended to be interested in the proceedings.

Then for another ten minutes, we had to look on excruciatingly as the horses leapt up to stand only on their hind legs. I had visions of Barbaro as these horses were forced to perform these feats of daring-do, which really after the first time was hard to look at.

Afterward, Mary (the nice one in our group) turned to Tracy and said sincerely, “That was very interesting.” I believe that is when Kim and I erupted in laughter (or perhaps we whinnied). Even Tracy had to snicker.

“No really,” Mary went on. “That was fun to see.”

Tracy did say that what we saw was not easy to do for either the riders or the horses, and Kim and I, in between bouts of uncontrollable laughter, agreed. Was it worth it? I’ll leave that up to others, but I say, "Neigh." I will admit, however, I liked it when the horses went into a kind of sideways stutter step that reminded me of myself dancing after drinking heavily.

Well, needless to say, we decided not to take the tour of the farm, so we hoofed it out of there and piled back in the car for the trip to Rovinj, which would take about another 90 minutes or so.

As we approached our destination, there were multiple signs to Rovinj. The problem was that the signs pointed in different directions. Of course, as it turned out, we took the wrong direction, but at least we got close enough to call our apartment host. She explained how to enter the car-free zone and met us in the old town to show us our place of lodging.

We dumped the luggage, and Kim and I drove back to the car park located on the edge of town. On the way back to the apartment, I stopped at a souvenir stand and purchased a Croatia cap so I could root for my new favorite soccer team.

The apartments were great. Our rooms overlooked the beautiful Rovinj harbor, and, as it turned out, the apartment was only about 100 yards from where we would catch the boat to Venice in a few days.

Rovinj is quite charming (and small). After getting freshened up, we all walked around town and got the lay of the land until we decided it was time to fill our stomachs again (that sandwich at the Lipica Stud Farm was thankfully a distant memory).

We ate at Lampo, a place that overlooked the harbor, and although we found out later is a Rick Steves’ choice, the food was fine (we like him for travel tips, not fine dining).

I had a beef soup with rice and an Istrian-style risotto (with beef and mushrooms). Tracy decided to go with a mixed salad and seafood risotto, Kim had a beefsteak with veggies and pommes frites, while Mary had the fish soup and grilled sea bass. By this time, Mary had eaten so much fish that she could actually breath underwater, and I swear her clothing covered a sophisticated set of fins.

After Kim and I had finished our dessert of chocolate crepes, the waiter came over with a surprise that nearly sent Kim and I into shock. Yes, the table was rewarded for its exemplary dining skills with a free round of slivovitz, and we all lived to tell about it (well, that’s because Kim and I took one for the team and drank our wives’ shots).

We then walked down to a little place called Zanibar (no, we did not run into Dorothy Lamour) and had (very expensive) drinks. Not content with our alcohol consumption for the evening, we hit another local haunt that had the Turkey/Czech Republic European Cup match on its outside television. Having just been to the Czech Republic, we cheered for them, but in a stunning comeback Turkey rallied to win, which might have been the most entertaining 20 minutes of soccer I had ever witnessed.

Both couples then retired to our respective apartments (no elevator, the stairs were a little steep, but the rooms were terrific). We called home and received some bad news. Our cat, Cupid, was not doing very well. We went to sleep, but it was a restless sleep to be sure.

COMING UP - DAY TWENTY FOUR – TRACY GETS IN HOT WATER, SCARY STAIRS, ALLEY OOPS, TRUFFLE TIME, THE GLASS BOTTOM BOAT, WINE TIME AND A WAITER WITH ATTITUDE

You did it again. I am laughing out loud (Well, that was very interesting) and my husband is glaring. I've got to start taking the laptop to the other room.

Neigh, indeed! So funny. Thanks, Tom.

Tom,

We've been hoping to read of your adventures in Venice before we leave Thursday, but since it's beginning to look unlikely, we'll drink Singing Gondoliers in your honor!

As usual, your trip report is great.

Byrd

"....we'll drink Singing Gondoliers in your honor!"

Byrd, have a great trip. Good memory! Yes, the Singing Gondoliers were part of our libation intake once we reached Venice on this trip, also. Enjoy!

I'm glad we decided to skip the Lipizaner show. I read once that they do horrible things to the horses to make them do that stutter step, and I don't think it involves Slivovitz.
What was the name of your Rovinj apartment? We'll be there next June.

Tom, have you been able to make the Singing Gondoliers at home? I have tried but failed miserably.

I have been able to make a nice Spritz con Aperol, though.

"I read once that they do horrible things to the horses to make them do that stutter step, and I don't think it involves Slivovitz."

digbydog - After posting my last installment, Mary e-mailed saying I had forgotten one thing I did after the Lipizzaner performance. After relating it to you, you'll realize why it slipped my mind.

Obviously I had been a little bored at the show (ok, it was really boring), so to wake myself up for the drive to Rovinj, as we all made our way to the car (with many of those in the audience walking right behind us), I suddenly went into a slapstick Lipazzaner routine by side-stepping back and forth along the path while making horse noises.

You've heard of The Ugly American, well I was now The Crazy American.

Albeit, it was no Tina Fey imitation of Sarah Palin, but there was laughter and a smattering of applause. No one offered me any hay. By the way, I was slivovitz free at this time and no travelers or horses were injured during my performance.

Gosh, I guess I did leave out the apartment name in Rovinj. Tracy's right, I am an idiot. They were the Apartments Porta Antica. Great location. Recommended!

"Tom, have you been able to make the Singing Gondoliers at home?"

bfrac, yes we have, but they are kind of a pain to make.

Singing Gondolier (aka Sgroppino)
2 cups (16 oz) lemon sorbet, softened
*2 Tbsp vodka
1/3 cupProsecco
4 Tbsp cream or half-and-half

*I can't just put two Tbsp of vodka in anything. You don't want the vodka to overpower either. I used four Tbsps. and one more tablespoon of cream (if not a vodka person, it is not mandatory to put it in, but what's the point?). You really shouldn't taste the vodka anyway (I just like knowing it is there).

Melt the lemon sorbet until soft, and put ingredientsl in a blender. Blend until it becomes somewhat liquidy (I don't think that's a word, but who cares). Then comes the maitaitom method to make it frothy.

As it blends, open the little top of the blender and add the white of one egg as the mixture continues to blend. Blend a little longer until it looks frothy or all the egg white and Vodka has exploded on to your face.

Pour immediately after blending or the mixture will separate faster than Pamela Anderson and her latest husband.

I promise I am trying to end this long international nightmare of a trip report, so please hang in there.

maitai,

I remember the 'Singing Gondoliers' from your Tuscan Tours trip report. Although they are a bit of a pain to make at home, they are worth it!!

And as you know, I currently have plenty of free time on my hands, so I was kind of hoping you could speed things up. Just kidding. I'll take as it comes.

Tom

Thanks for the recipe Tom. I will try again to make them, I think I had lousy cheap sorbet the last time I tried.

BTW, I can open a bottle of prosecco with a sword and don't charge monk rates of 15 euro. Actually, the reward is the open bottle of prosecco...

Tom, those Singing Gondoliers will make that leg feel better. Wishing you good thoughts from So. Cal.

bfrac, if you are ever in Pasadena, we actually have a sword (long story). For the excitement of you opening the prosecco bottle with it, Tracy and I will make Singing Gondoliers. Love the "Monk Rate," I might have to steal that line when I put this all in my blog with pictures.

Tom,

I just returned form Central (don't call it eastern) Europe and found another place you can get the fabulous kremna rezina; however, where I ate them they are called kremes, kremeschnitte or Ruszwurm Cream Pastry. Next time you are in Budapest, go to the Ruszwurm Cukrazda, a tiny, venerable bakeshop with a handful of tables in the Castle District. As I was staying a block or so away at the Hilton, it couldn't have been more convenient.

I had read your praise of the pastry and looked in awe at the photo. These triggered a memory of reading a description of the famous Ruszwurm kremes. I decided to find out if they were one and the same. Bingo! In this case, a rose by any other name did smell (and taste) as sweet. To my delight the Ruszwurm kreme is a kremna rezina in Hungarian disguise. I had one on my first day in Budapest. Since I had to take it away and eat is as I walked (there were no empty seats), I decided to try again for the perfect experience on the second day and eat one at an empty table with a Ruszwurm coffee. It was even more perfect the second time around. Had I not known they would be flat and creamless, I would have had a case shipped home. I even took a photo to commemorate the bliss.

You can check Ruszwurm out yourself at www.ruszwurm.hu.

My GOD, Delaine! (This from an atheist, no less) What have you done to me? Just the Pictures of the cakes on that site have brought tears to my eyes, and made my cholesterol climb 12 points!

Maitaitom, if my football team ever makes it back to Pasadena, will you come to our tailgate and demonstrate the 'sword technique' ??? We usually throw fab tailgates, although being on the road is a little tougher...

Between business trips, a very bad cold and a computer getting a new hard drive, I have not been able to finish this report yet, but will get back to Rovinj and finally Venice this week.

delaine, thanks for the info on your dessert. Looked great!

surfmom, if your team makes it to the Rose Bowl (which team?), I'd love to come to your tailgate. Tracy will be wielding the sword, however, as I am not allowed around sharp objects.

Great report! Can't wait for the finale.
We're planning a similar trip next spring, so I'm taking notes. Which car rental agency did you use?

you can finish it. you can do it. you can do it...

I'm a Penn Stater, so honestly, if we are at the Rose Bowl this year, it will be a disappointment. However, based on the amount of respect (none!) we are getting from the polls, I should get prepared for it. I know I'll be blasphemed for this, but we hate the parade. Too hard to watch it and then get across town for tailgating. We've done it and it was crazy. Next time, it is straight to the stadium for a tailgate!

Tom, as I said earlier, this really has been like a terrific book you don't want to put down.

But please don't make it a book without an ending!

"But please don't make it a book without an ending!"

Yes, there will be an ending, I promise. I am hoping to finish the report this weekend or early next week. I'm almost done with Day 2 of Rovinj. Busy times.

Surf Mom, I think either Alabama or Texas Tech will lose b4 it's all over, meaning Penn State will play in the National Championship (unless Iowa or Mich. St. pulls off the upset.

The secret to the parade is getting grandstand tix on Orange Grove and Colorado. The parade ends a little b4 10 a.m., then a 15 - 20 minute walk to the Bowl, which gives you 3 1/2 hours to tailgate.

DAY TWENTY FOUR – TRACY GETS IN HOT WATER, SCARY STAIRS, ALLEY OOPS, TRUFFLE TIME, THE GLASS BOTTOM BOAT AND WINE TIME

Let’s see. Where was I? Worried about Cupid, we didn’t sleep too well, but it was not the fault of our apartment (Porta Antica) or it’s location (quiet). We both looked forward to a nice hot shower the next morning, and being the consummate gentleman (ok, I was just trying to get an extra ten minutes of shut eye), I let Tracy go first.

Tracy put her Invisalign braces in a cup of hot water to soak and hopped in the shower. “Whoa,” I could her blurt out from the shower. By the time I had gotten my tired body out of bed, she was fine.

“What happened?” I asked.

“That water really gets hot fast,” she answered. We didn’t know how hot for a few more minutes.

After getting out of the shower, she went over to the cup where she had her braces soaking…or what was left of them. If those braces could have spoken, they would have been like the Wicked Witch of the West and yelled, “I’m melting! Melting!” Yep, they were goners.

Hey, who needs straight teeth anyway?

Obviously, I took a very careful shower, and then the two of us met Kim and Mary in front of the apartments, and we went in search of breakfast. If anyone would like an entrepreneurial idea, I suggest opening a breakfast place in Rovinj. There were opportunities for ice cream sundaes, but not a lot of spots to find a croissant and an espresso, but, of course, we eventually did find a little bakery.

It was a little overcast, but the sun was making its move early, so we were confident it would be a beautiful Rovinj day. We meandered through some alleys and streets and reached the Sv Eufemija (Church of St. Euphemia), the large, landmark church in Rovinj that you can see from just about anywhere in town or on the sea.

It’s campanile rises nearly 200 feet and is a replica of the one we would see at St. Mark’s Cathedral in a couple of days. Having had the most caffeine, I was the designated climber and started up the 192 stairs (after paying 1.60€). As stated in previous installments, I don’t shy away from these things, even though I do get a little edgy about high places. The last part of this trek up the campanile was among the scariest stairs I have climbed.

Although never fearing I would fall to my death, the steps were treacherous, so much so that a number of people turned back. Knowing I would never hear the end of it had I attempted to wimp out, I made my way onto the skinny, wooden stairs that lead to the viewing platform, and the vistas from here were well worth the vertiginous climb. I waved to my three companions who seemed content sitting outside enjoying the now gloriously sunny morning.

After rejoining everyone, we went back inside the church to find the sarcophagus of St. Euphemia. So the story goes, as a young girl, Euphemia was arrested by Diocletian’s henchmen and brutally tortured. They even put her on a wheel and broke her bones, but she would not die.

Ticked off by her refusal to expire, Diocletian then tried to feed her to the lions, but miraculously the lions did not devour her, instead talking some playful nips at her arm. Unfortunately in those times, becoming a saint meant a premature death, and, sure enough, the Romans finally managed to kill her.

Many years later, a huge, marble sarcophagus containing her remains washed up in Istria. People wanted to transport it up to the Church of St. George (this church’s name at the time), but the damn thing was too heavy.

But the happy ending (well, except for the broken bones, drowning and death thing) occurred when a kid with two calves appeared and dragged her relics up to the church. There is also a fresco of the lions playfully nipping at her arms.

We walked back down to the harbor along Grisia Street, which I believe means “a street where tourists are quickly parted from their hard-earned cash by numerous shopkeepers.” A couple of missteps on this alley street almost had me going head first into the pavement, but my deft 56-year-old reflexes saved me from certain scoffing by the others.

We nearly made it to the end of Grisia Street, but a wine shop loomed directly ahead and, mesmerized by the call of the vineyards, we stepped inside.

Not only were there a number of various wines, but also numerous bottles of truffle oil lining the shelves. We had happened upon the “Gifts For Family and Friends Back Home” Emporium (the actual name of this great wine bar/store is Piassa Granda).

After assuring the proprietress we would stop back for an early evening wine sampling, we walked over to Scuba (to eat, not dive), a restaurant next to our apartment building. Kim tried the fried calamari, Mary had a hamburger and fries, Tracy gobbled down a Greek salad and small crunchy pizza, while I was tempted by the gnocchi Gorgonzola, which was terrific.

Kim and Mary went off to walk the streets of Rovinj, while Tracy and I, savoring the beautiful weather, caught a boat and departed on a one-hour tour of the harbor and nearby islands. Although it had a glass bottom (the boat, not Tracy), we opted to sit out on the deck and enjoy the sunshine.

This was another picture taking bonanza; with spectacular views back toward Rovinj beckoning me to take one photograph after another.

Upon our return, we hit one of the many spots along the harbor where you can grab a gelato. We liked the one where the Gelato Guys flung scoops of gelato in the air and nabbed them in their scooper, never missing a beat.

By now it was late afternoon, so we phoned home and got even further distressing news about Cupid. It didn’t look good that he would survive the rest of the week.

Now this will sound crazy to many, but Tracy wanted to find a flight home in the next couple of days thinking that maybe if she got home, there could be some kind of miraculous recovery. I didn’t disagree, and we went on online and purchased the least expensive non-refundable, non-exchangeable, non-cheap flight out of Venice on Thursday morning (it seemed like a good idea at the time).

Although saddened by our news, it was time to meet Kim and Mary back at Piassa Granda for our early evening vino. After (carefully, very carefully) taking a shower, we met the two, who had started without us (we quickly caught up). The owner (Helen) was still there. She and the amiable sommelier suggested some various Istrian wines for us to sample.

Our notes from this night are pretty weak due to how upset we were. We dined at a restaurant on the water that had an outdoor patio, but we had to dine inside because of a heavy mist that had shut down the patio service. We did not write down the name of this restaurant, but I will see if Mary and Kim remember it (it was the last harbor-side restaurant on the left as the walkway winded up toward the church).

Despite our deepening sense of foreboding, I had an appetite and started my meal with prosciutto and melon followed by an unbelievable gnocchi with truffles. Kim enjoyed an almond-crusted turbot and Mary continued her fishy behavior by downing the fish platter that included grilled squid and turbot. Tracy did not have much of an appetite and just had prosciutto and melon.

As the two of us were not very fun traveling companions on this evening, we gave Kim and Mary our cash and let them enjoy the rest of the night away from the weepy “Black Cloud of Tom and Tracy.”

Tracy and I stopped at a little outdoors bar for a nightcap and discussed our options. It was then back to the apartment for a restless night’s sleep.

COMING UP - DAY TWENTY FIVE – WHERE’S THAT HILL TOWN, THAT DROP OFF FEE REALLY HERTZ, A LAKER FAN IN POREC, BUS STOP AND A TONI RESTAURANT

Tom, at last. Thank you.

Please let us know when your blog and pictures are up.

I'm glad I checked in before toddling off to bed.-

bookmarking - thanks!

Now I really want to go to all the places you described!

DAY TWENTY FIVE – WHERE’S THAT HILL TOWN, SOMEBODY’S GOTTA GO BACK AND GET A SHITLOAD OF DIMES, THAT DROP OFF FEE REALLY HERTZ, A LAKER FAN IN POREC, BUS STOP AND A TONI RESTAURANT

We awoke to a slightly overcast day, found some croissants and espresso and made our way to the parking lot. We had to return the car to Porec, but before we hit that coastal town, we had decided to travel to one or two of the Istrian Peninsula’s hill towns. Number one on our list was Motovun.

Lady Garmin was having a bit of problem in Croatia (perhaps all that recalculating had taken a toll on her brain), so we tried to rely on our map and road signs. As we headed north, there was our sign to turn off for Motovun. So far; so good.

We traveled for a short distance until we came upon a “T” in the road. One small problem; there was no sign pointing us in the direction of Motovun. There was only one way to decide. Since we were all going to vote for Obama, we decided to head left.

We traveled on…and on…and on. We whisked through a couple of villages that were not on the map and none of the road signs read “Motovun.” Our official keeper of the map, Mary, said she was certain we were traveling in the correct direction; so on we went.

There were still no road signs, so at the next sign of humanity Tracy and Mary said we should ask someone for directions. Even though we are guys and asking for directions is a no-no in the Official Guy Handbook, Kim and I reluctantly agreed.

Shortly, up ahead in the distance was a small parking lot congregated with a group of guys who looked like they were part of a construction crew or a group of felons. It was hard to tell, but we stopped anyway being the confidently ignorant tourists that we are.

Before you could say, “Prison break,” Mary bolted from the car to ask them directions. I asked Kim if he was going to go provide Mary protection. “No,” he said, “by the time Mary gets through asking all her questions, if they’re prisoners, they’ll want to go back to jail.”

We saw the guys pointing and Mary nodding her head, so we all felt confident she had the information when she returned to the car. Mary got in, and we asked if they had given her directions. “Yes, we go to the next town and turn left at the first road we reach. They said Motovun was near.”

Obviously “near” in Croatian is a little further than in English. We quickly reached the town, made a left and drove for quite a distance through very scenic, town-less countryside. Persevering, we finally came to a sign pointing us again to Motovun, and in a few minutes we were winding up a narrow road to this hill town.

Motovun is closed to cars (except for locals), so parking on the narrow road nearest to the town proved to be quite a challenge, but eventually we made it (park as close to the town as you can get because if you park in the allotted parking lot, it is quite a hike).

We started the ten-minute walk up to Motovun. About the only facts I knew about this place was it was the birthplace of Mario Andretti and it is the most visited of all the Istrian hill towns. In the fall, they get 20,000 for a film festival (parking must be fun for that event). On this particular day, it was pretty quiet.

We walked past an old man who was working on some spectacular woodcarvings and contemplated a purchase on the walk back. After passing through the gateways, the panoramic views of the valley below are fantastic.

Our first stop was going to be St. Stephen’s Church, but for some reason it was closed (maybe they couldn’t get a parking space). Then we took the 10 to 15-minute walk around the town ramparts.

We made a quick refreshment stop and started the walk back down to the car, stopping in a few of the very cute shops selling lavender, truffle oil and olio. We also decided not to get the woodcarving, but it was beautiful.

As we continued our stroll down the narrow road out of town, suddenly, in a Blazing Saddles instant, a red and white striped object swung down in front of us, impeding our walk for the moment. It was if we had been transported to the Governor William J. Le Petomane Thruway.

“What will that asshole think of next?” Kim said, right on cue.

I added, “Somebody’s gotta go back and get a shitload of dimes.”

Only our respective spouses knew what we were doing and, for once, they were laughing with us and not at us. Other people in the vicinity, visitors and locals alike, just stood perplexed and bewildered, wondering what was wrong with these crazy Americans. Mary then took a quick picture of Kim and me “stranded” at the “toll booth” until the gate went back up (to let a local driver go though, we assumed).

We were supposed to drop off the car by noon in Porec, but our longer-than-we-thought drive (plus that damn toll booth) had put us behind schedule. We got to the outskirts of Porec, and since Kim and I had already broken the “Guy Code” once, we decided to stop at the TI to get exact directions to Hertz. After getting a lecture about saying petrol and not gas, we were on our way.

The directions were perfect. I parked the car, ran inside and looked for the Hertz guy. A woman (who did not work for Hertz, but seemed to be having a bad day judging from the tone she was using in a phone conversation), looked up at me after getting off her call and basically said, “What do you want?”

“I am returning our rental car to Hertz. I’m about an hour late.”

“Well,” she said. “The man from Hertz has left, and he is not coming back today. You should have thought of this before returning the car late. You will just have to keep the car until tomorrow.”

Since we were taking a ferry from Rovinj to Venice the next morning, that was not exactly the answer I needed to hear.

Fortunately, before I had to listen to any more of her shrill voice (I think she might have been my fourth grade teacher reincarnated), a young guy walked in and asked, “Are you Late Returning Tom?”


“Yes, I am very sorry.”

He said, “Hey, no problem, I just went out and got something to eat, but I do have to charge you for an extra day.” I had no problem with that.

It was about 1:30 when we walked over to the nearby bus station to see what time the bus from Porec to Rovinj left. The next bus left at 3:10, and it was fortunate we got here in time for it because the next bus after that didn’t leave until 9:30 p.m.

Porec is a cute, seaside town, but not nearly as charming as Rovinj. We ate lunch at a restaurant not too far from the bus station (I have the name, but it is on another computer, so I will share later). It was quite good.

After ordering a fuzzi stew (a traditional Istrian dish with pasta), the waiter asked where we were from. When I said Los Angeles, the waiter’s eyes lit up and he said, “The Lakers won last night against the Celtics. Kobe made some big shots.” It is definitely a small world.

The air-conditioned bus ride cost 27kn, took about 50 minutes and soon we were back at the apartment.

Now for a little bit more on the Porta Antica Apartments. As stated, the location is fantastic. It is a short 5-10 minute walk to the car park. If you are taking the ferry to Rovinj, the dock is only 200 yards from the entrance of your apartments.

The steps are a little steep to the rooms, so if mobility is a problem, that could cause difficulty. Both our rooms (we had Room 3) looked out onto the harbor. They had kitchenettes, a television and very hot water. There is also a Bank-in-the-Box directly across the street. The apartments don’t have phones, but there is an internet café a couple of doors down.

After a little nap of about three minutes (no rest for the weary), we all headed back to the Piassa Granda for more wine. Our favorite on this night was a Rosé sparkling wine from the Istria region. If you are in Rovinj, stop in and see Helen at this place. She even let me pick out the tunes. I was in the mood for a little Dean, Frank, Sammy and the gang, and she had the right mix for us.

Helen had told us about her restaurant in town named Toni. She even called and made reservations for us.

Although Toni has a patio on one of the squares in Rovinj, we decided to eat inside in the charming yellow dining room with pastel-striped curtains and family photos adorning all the walls.

There was only one waiter, but this young man was the James Brown of waiters (the hardest working man in the serving business). Food here was very good from my beefsteak with truffles and homemade pasta to Kim’s ravioli with truffles and Mary’s Greek salad with Mussels.

Tracy went outside her comfort zone and after having a delicious arugula salad, decided to try the black risotto with seafood, which temporarily caused her lips to turn blue. Luckily, they turned back to their normal color before we called paramedics. I would definitely recommend this restaurant if visiting Rovinj.

We had after-dinner drinks with Kim and Mary at our harbor side bar, and then went upstairs and made a quick call home. Cupid was still laboring, but had eaten that day, so we had a slight glimmer of hope. Since we had a very early morning trip to Venice, Tracy and I packed for the long day ahead. At the time, we didn’t know just how long a day it would really be.

COMING UP - DAY TWENTY SIX – VORTEX OF SORROW, THE COFFEE COMEDY CAPER, BEAUTIFUL VENEZIA, FLIGHT PLAN, PLEASE DON’T HAVE A HEART ATTACK HERE, UP ON THE ROOFTOP, SHE’S GOT PANNA COTTA THIGHS AND SHINE ON HARVEST MOON

Ah, Tom,

"No,” he said, “by the time Mary gets through asking all her questions, if they’re prisoners, they’ll want to go back to jail.” and again I laughed out loud.

But this time I'm in a hotel room with my husband and he cannot get away from me, so he gave me a glare and told me to get away from the computer. I'm ignoring him.

I'm enjoying your report so much!

and your comment about going to the left...yes, we'll all be wandering for some time to come!

"Tom, at last. Thank you. Please let us know when your blog and pictures are up."

Only three days left in Venice, and I am done. I'll let you know when blog plus pics are up after that. Thanks.

Tom,

I hope you and Tracy had a great Thanksgiving. But may I kindly request, not just for myself, but many other Fodorites, the next installment to this great story?

Tom

"Tom, I hope you and Tracy had a great Thanksgiving. But may I kindly request, not just for myself, but many other Fodorites, the next installment to this great story?
Tom"

From one Tom to another...I vow to finish the last three days before Christmas. Tracy is all over me to get going on the video, and I still haven't got all my pictures in order for the blog. This working-for-a-living thing is entirely overrated!

Thanks TRSW for inquiring. I wanted to do so but didn't want to pressure one of my favorites. ( I sometimes remember there is life outside Fodors -

two Toms? Geez, it's amazing to find ANY Toms after Thanksgiving!!!

gobble gobble gobble!

your new theme song:

This is ground control to maitaitom, you've really made the grade!
And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear,
Now it's time to leave the capsule if you dare

This is maitaitom to ground control, I'm stepping through the door
And I'm floating in the most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today

email me... may need some inside info about the best place to tailgate... we're bowling

This is MaiTaiTom to Fodor's Board
I’m sitting at my desk,
And I’m writing in a most peculiar way,
And the Trip Report looks different today

For here am I sitting at my IMac.
There's the Buza Bar.
The Adriatic's blue
And there’s nothing I can do.

Though I’m past one hundred thousand words
I’m feeling very ill
And I think my story knows which way to go
Tell everyone I'll finish next week, I know.

Wow Maitaitom, first a great vacation planner, then entertaining and talented reporter of trips, now a songwriter!

I'm looking forward to the next installment although I know it is going to be sad too.

Maybe we could talk Fodors into giving us all jobs writing trip reports, so we wouldn't have to spend so much time away from here at work.

DAY TWENTY SIX – VORTEX OF SORROW, THE COFFEE COMEDY CAPER, BEAUTIFUL VENEZIA, FLIGHT PLAN, PLEASE DON’T HAVE A HEART ATTACK HERE, UP ON THE ROOFTOP, SHE’S GOT PANNA COTTA THIGHS AND SHINE ON HARVEST MOON

It was between 4:30 and 5 a.m. when Tracy and I awoke to get ready to hop on the 7 a.m. ferry that would transport the four of us to our final European destination, Venice. I was out of bed first. Kim and Mary had given us their satellite phone to call home, and although I still had held out some slim hope for Cupid recovering, I had a bad feeling inside my stomach.

When the voice at the other end answered, I could immediately tell that my worst feelings were going to be, unfortunately, confirmed. “Cupid passed away about fifteen minutes ago,” our friend Susan told us. She was with Cupid when he died, and for that we were grateful.

I had to relay the bad news to Tracy, and by the time we met up with Kim and Mary, they could tell by our faces that we were now at, what we called, “The Vortex of Sorrow.”

The Porta Antica location, like I mentioned earlier, is just a short walk from where you catch the ferry, so at least that was positive.

As we waited for the ferry, the skies, in an attempt to mirror our mood, opened up, and we were greeted with a heavy downpour. The moment reminded me of Marty Feldman’s Igor in Young Frankenstein when he and Gene Wilder were exhuming the body.

“Could be worse,” Igor said. Dr. Frankenstein replied, “How?”

“Could be raining.”

Fortunately the ferry had arrived and we scurried on board.

Once underway, I decided I needed some caffeine to get me through this day. I got up and had them make me two cappuccinos. When they gave them to me, I found it odd that they had given me straws, but I took them and returned to my seat. It was now time for some Tom madcap comedy.
The boat was skipping over the rather rough seas at a good clip, and each time I attempted to raise the cup to my lips, the boat would bounce and the coffee would spill over the cup onto my pants. After watching me continue to partake in this fruitless endeavor for a few moments, Tracy reminded me that these straws were probably given to me for a reason.

The ferry made a quick stop in Piran, Slovenia, and then it was on to Venice. A few minutes out, I had a terrible thought. Tracy had booked that “expensive, non-refundable, non-exchangeable, no way in Hell you’re getting your money back” ticket to Los Angeles, and now, of course, there was no reason to go. I forget which online agency we bought them through, but now we were stressing about a huge payment we didn’t need to make.

The weather was turning progressively better as we zipped across the sea, and by the time we reached Venice, the skies were bright blue. Once again, location turned out to be on our side.

Venezia Lines dropped the passengers at a ferry building, which, as it turned out, was located only two bridges from our next hotel, Pension La Calcina, where the four of us stayed in 2005. Amazingly, the staff let us come back for a return engagement.

The first thing we asked was whether we could book the rooftop patio at the hotel for the evening, and we reserved it from 6 p.m. until 8 p.m. (I do not know why other guests do not take advantage of that space, but we are always happy that they don’t).

Before lunch, we told Kim and Mary that we had to go online (computer is located downstairs at La Calcina) and see if we could finagle a way out of having to pay for Tracy’s ticket, although we knew the chances of that were remote at best.

When we checked our email, we had a message that said, “Due to one of the legs of your trip becoming unavailable, we are going to have to cancel your entire itinerary. Your credit card will not be charged.” We were, of course, quite relieved.

Our room was the same as the one we had occupied in 2005. It was small and clean with a small patio that had just a sliver of a view of the Giudecca Canal (foreshadowing alert). We unpacked a few things and met Kim and Mary on the deck of the La Calcina restaurant, La Piscina, which sits out over the canal.

I had a delicious crepe with Gorgonzola and haricot verts. Mary enjoyed rice with zucchini and roasted yellow pepper sauce. Kim and Tracy had the pasta with pesto and green beans.

It was a gorgeous day, but at this moment, we were not the best traveling companions. We told Kim and Mary that we would meet up with them later so they didn’t have to be followed by the “Tom and Tracy” Black Cloud.

This might have been the most beautiful day we had ever encountered in Venice, but at this time, we just could not enjoy it. We meandered the alleys and found ourselves lost somewhere in the neighborhood behind San Marco.

I kept telling Tracy that my chest felt tight, but when she asked me to sit down I just kept walking (yes, I can be an idiot). Finally, after doing this for ten minutes, she said, “Either you sit down or you’re going to have to have a heart attack on your own.”

Well, although I was sad, I wasn’t quite in the mood to die, so I did what most people do when they think they might be having a heart attack. I went in search of the place where I had my first Cafe Corretto back in 2005. Nothing stops heart pain better than a little espresso and grappa, I thought.

Newly energized, we just did what we like best in Venice; walking aimlessly and getting lost. By now, it was coming upon the cocktail hour, which for us changes by the day.

On the way back to La Calcina, I stopped and picked up a bottle of wine at Cantine del Vino Schiavi. It just so happened they had a bottle of Lamole di Lamole Chianti, a place that the four of us had visited in 2005.

We met Kim and Mary in the lobby, and Tracy had to tell them about my fake heart attack. Well, that’s all Dr. Mary needed to hear (although not a doctor, she is a qualified dental hygienist and more knowledgeable than the doctors I go to on a regular basis). Mary had me sit in a chair in the lobby of the La Calcina and took my pulse. Fortunately, she did not pack a stethoscope.

“Tom,” she said. “I have determined that you did not have a heart attack but are suffering from heart break.” Of course, we all got a good laugh, proving once again that laughter is the best medicine. She prescribed that I go upstairs and take a shower. “After some rest, you’ll be fine to drink wine.”

Promptly at six, we met Kim and Mary on the rooftop. They had also purchased some vino, along with cheese, meat and bread (we always like to eat and drink before we go out and eat and drink).

“I found a special bottle of vino,” I told Kim.

He smiled and said, “Well, so did I, and I bet I know what you bought.” Sure enough we had bought the same wine at the same store.

It was a spectacular view that night out onto the canal from the rooftop at La Calcina (if you stay here, take advantage of this spot), and we toasted not only Cupid, but also our fantastic good fortune that we had been able to return to this beautiful place. Venice never ceases to amaze me.

We had planned on dining at a restaurant we had read about in Dorsoduro situated on a tiny alley called Osteria Al 4 Fei, but when we got there, we found out that it was closed for the month of June. Plan B turned out pretty good for us.

Located near the Campo San Barnaba and next door to the restaurant we had wanted to dine at on this evening, we saw a charming little restaurant called La Bitte. It had a tiny garden with four tables and a cozy interior.

We had a (at first) grumpy but (later) funny waitress who grew up in Kentucky, and the food was terrific. Mary and I decided on the lamb chops with peppers, zucchini, yams and mashed potatoes. Tracy went for the pasta with cherry tomatoes, while Kim had another pasta pesto (I think he just liked saying it).

Only one of us had dessert, and that, of course, was me. That’s because they had a scrumptious panna cotta with chocolate sauce on the menu. As our waitress handed it to me, she told me how much she loves eating panna cotta. Without missing a beat, to the tune of “Betty Davis Eyes,” she sang out, “That’s Why I’ve Got Panna Cotta Thighs.”

That night, as we walked back to La Calcina, there was a harvest moon that shone an amazing reflection onto the Giudecca Canal. It was truly spectacular, and, fortunately, Kim took a fantastic picture of it. The day that had started out so sad was coming to an end, and fortunately the beauty of Venice, while not erasing our sad memory, was at least able to captivate and charm us again.

Back up in the room, Tracy went to bed, but I was really restless as the thoughts of this very long day raced through my brain. I was drained. I decided to snatch one of the overpriced mini-bottles of wine from the mini-bar and sip it out on the patio.

I plunked myself down at the small table, opened the wine and poured it slowly. It was a very warm, comfortable evening with just a hint of a breeze. After taking a sip, I lifted my head to gaze out at my narrow view of the canal and what I witnessed still resonates with me today.

The harvest moon, seemingly at that exact moment in time, was filling up what I perceived as the entire sky and it was situated directly in front of me. The canal, its water lapping at the foot of the nearby bridge, appeared to be on fire from the reflection. The entire spectrum of my view was filled by this remarkable tableau, and the sheer beauty of it remains ingrained in my memory. To say the least, I was completely mesmerized by this phenomenon.

I was thinking, “This is absolutely incredible. I only have this miniscule view onto the canal, and look at what I am experiencing right now.”

At that moment, no matter how silly and improbable it seemed I truly believed Cupid was making a grand earthly exit and telling Tracy and me that he was fine. I had no doubt that if any cat could have pulled it off, it most certainly would have been him.

Crazy? Maybe. But one thing is for certain; that is one Venice view I will never, ever forget.

COMING UP - DAY TWENTY SEVEN – BY GIORGIO WHAT A VIEW, EXPLORING NEW AREAS, WHO IS THAT MASKED MAN, ARE YOU SURE IT’S THIS WAY, ALAS NO CAT PUPPETS FOR US, SOCCER TO ME, UP ON THE ROOFTOP (PART TWO), INTIMATE CANAL DINING AND BATTLE OF THE BANDS

Well, you always make me laugh.

Now you made me cry.

I'm so sorry about your sweet Cupid.

I'll think of him the next time I see a harvest moon. (Darn kitties, if they only knew what they did to us!)

Thank you for always posting your hilarious and touching antics.

So sorry to hear about Cupid. I am sure he sent the moon to reflect in your canal. Venice sounds as wonderful as ever.

Yipper

Tom,

Even though I knew it was coming, I still teared up at Cupid's passing.

I also think he somehow had something to do with the Harvest Moon you saw AND he had a paw in getting the flight segment canceled so you didn't have to pay for the expensive flight home.

Tom

"AND he had a paw in getting the flight segment canceled so you didn't have to pay for the expensive flight home."

Funny you should say that Tom. When we saw the email that said the flight segment had been canceled, we both said that Cupid had something to do with it. He was a clever cat.

NanBug and Yipper, that was a hard day to write about, even though it was nearly six months ago. And yes, Venice is still wonderful!

Hate that your trip report is coming to an end. May you have many more travels and witty reports!
Paw hugs from Dr. Squeakers.

Hi, maitaitom -

Like so many others, I've been laughing out loud while reading your delightful report, and am heartbroken to learn about Cupid. What a special cat to have helped with your airline arrangements AND provided you such a beautiful image!

"From one Tom to another...I vow to finish the last three days before Christmas."

Ahem, it is now the day AFTER Christmas, and I, along with the others are still waiting for the last 2 days!!

Just kidding. Like I have alot of room to talk. I didn't finish my last two trip reports. But then again, I don't your flair for writing.

Hope you and Tracy (and Mary and Kim) had a peaceful Christmas.

Tom

bookmarking re Prague

"Ahem, it is now the day AFTER Christmas, and I, along with the others are still waiting for the last 2 days!!"

Tom, did I say which Christmas????

If I don't drink a bottle of tequila tonight, I think I'll finish it up during the Rose Parade tomorrow morning since (thankfully) I don't have to attend the parade this year.

Happy New Year!

DAY TWENTY SEVEN – A NEAR SLIP-UP, BY GIORGIO WHAT A VIEW, NO ABBOT IN CASTELLO, WHO IS THAT MASKED MAN, ALAS NO CAT PUPPETS, UP ON THE ROOFTOP (PART TWO), INTIMATE CANAL DINING AND BATTLE OF THE BANDS

There is nothing quite like having your breakfast on a sunny, Venice morning overlooking a canal, but that is just what the four of us did at La Calcina. After my requisite number of espressos and cappuccinos (perhaps I should invent intravenous caffeine), it was on to the nearby vaporetto (we purchased the two-day pass), and after a quick little ride, we arrived at our first destination of the morning, San Giorgio Maggiore.

I had wanted to visit this 10th century church on our last visit to Venice, but the weather had not cooperated. Today, with the sun booming down upon us, I knew the views would be spectacular.

It was so beautiful that Tracy wanted to have her picture taken near the canal. Over the years, I have taken numerous “Tracy in Peril” pictures throughout the years, much to the consternation of her mom. Of course, she’s not really in peril, but we just make it seem that way in the photos.

On this morning, as Tracy feigned falling into the canal, she actually lost her footing on the slick surface, and starting slipping and sliding on the pavement and for a brief moment, I thought I might have a real “Tracy in Peril” photo of her floating (hopefully) in the canal. After a Michael Jackson Moon Walk move, she regained her footing, and it was on to the church.

After zipping through the downstairs interior, we bought our tickets to visit the campanile. We were directed to the elevator. “Elevator?” I said. Yes, there would be no stairs on this journey.

The views over San Marco and all of Venice were fantastic, and out in the distance we saw a huge church. As we perused our guidebook, we determined it was Santi Giovanni e Paolo in Castello, so we decided that would be our next stop.

Dubbed by some, “The Pantheon of Venice,” it is run by a Domenican order. It is also the place where the Doges’ funerals were held. More than 20 are buried here. There wasn’t an Abbot to be found, however.

After a quick bite to eat, we stopped by a shop that was making and selling masks. It was a husband and wife team, and the masks in this shop were quite beautiful. He gave us a lesson on how to differentiate between a mask made in Venice and one made in China. Obviously, I had killed too many brain cells, because five minutes afterward, I didn’t remember, but we did buy a mask, which the shop owners signed as a gift.

Kim and Mary and the two of us then went our separate ways for the afternoon. We had made our nightly La Calcina rooftop patio reservations and would hook up with them in the early evening.

We then went in search of the infamous Cat Puppet store where we had purchased one in 2005. I don’t know if it was because of our sadness or the store didn’t have as many choices, but Cat Puppets would not be purchased on this trip. Instead, I opted for another Café Corretto, meaning I was now ten times over the caffeine limit for the day.

We took a circuitous route back to La Calcina (the recommended way to visit Venice) and stopped at another mask store in Dorsoduro (they said they had made some of the masks for the movie “Eyes Wide Shut”). Since I had never seen (nor ever will) the movie, I took them at their word.

Tracy then took a little nap, while I walked over to a little wine shop. A short time later, we were back up on the roof for “Vino Time.”

Our restaurant for the evening was Cantinone Storico, on a little canal near our hotel. The dinner was enjoyable, but not memorable.

This was our fourth visit to Venice and we had never gone to Piazza San Marco late at night to hear the “Battle of the Bands,” but that would change this evening. We made our way to Caffé Florian, which has been here for nearly 300 years, and sat down at one of the tables, which means even before we were served, we were now destitute.

For the next hour and a half, we enjoyed a couple of champagne cocktails each and the delightful orchestra. Of course, we paid way too much money, but enjoyed every minute of it. When “our” orchestra took one of its breaks, we could hear the orchestra playing from the other side of the piazza at the Caffé Quadri.

Am I glad we finally decided to experience this Venice tradition? Absolutely! Would I do it again? Only if my portfolio gets back near to where it was when we were in Venice.

We navigated our tired bodies back to La Calcina and went to sleep knowing our epic trip was nearly at an end.

COMING UP - DAYS TWENTY EIGHT AND TWENTY NINE – A HOT TIME IN THE OLD TOWN, A DAY AT THE OPERA (HOUSE), SIGHS MATTERS, STOPPA THE GRAPPA, THE LAST SUPPER AND ARRIVEDERCHI VENEZIA

Tom, I love that view from the campanile, although I always thought the big church was the Frari. Oh well, another reason to go back.

Thanks for coming back to finish, we are all grateful.

Felice nuovo anno.

hi tom,

i found your so amusing trip report again when searching for Krakow, which I am lining up for a surprise [luckily for me he doesn't read fodor's] birthday trip for DH in April 2009.

I'd already come across the Crakowdays apartments where you stayed on tripadviser which ranks them No 2 in Krakow - pretty high, given the no of 4 & 5 star hotels they outrank!

may I ask which room/s you booked and whether there are any downsides to staying there?

I can get it for about £70/€80 per night at the moment - and don't ask me what that is in U$ - it seems to change by the day!

what do you think?

regards, ann

"may I ask which room/s you booked and whether there are any downsides to staying there?"

Hi Ann,

We had the Barolo and Lambrusco rooms. One faced the street; one faced the courtyard.

To get to the apartments, you go in a large front door and go up some stairs (the apartments are on the left through another locked door...you have keys for outside door, inside door and your room). The office is upstairs from the apartments. The rooms are clean. Bathrooms were spotless. The bed was comfortable. The staff was very nice. There is a computer in the hall for your internet access.

I loved the location. Yes, there is some graffiti around, but that does not bother me. The apartments are located one block off the main drag that has coffee shops, restaurants and shops. It is about a ten minute walk straight down that street to the Rynek Glówny.

We felt the location was safe. For the money, we thought that Cracowdays could not be beat and highly recommend it. I really cannot think of a downside to staying there. Enjoy Kraków.

By the way, I highly recommend Guliwer, ul. Bracka 6, as a place to eat dinner.

Yes, it's true! For the brave few who have stayed with it, here is (finally) the last installment of my trip report. Thanks for hanging in there.

DAYS TWENTY EIGHT AND TWENTY NINE – A HOT TIME IN THE OLD TOWN, A DAY AT THE OPERA (HOUSE), SIGHS MATTERS, STOPPA THE GRAPPA, THE LAST SUPPER, DON’T LEAVE YOUR CAMERA IN A RENTAL CAR AND ARRIVEDERCHI VENEZIA

Waking up, we knew that today was going to be a scorcher. It was so hot that I limited myself to two espressos and one cappuccino on the La Calcina breakfast deck.

Tracy had decided the gift du jour for many of our friends this Christmas would be beautiful wine stoppers made from Venetian glass. After breakfast, we went to a nearby shop that we had seen near our hotel and bought about 15 of them. What recession?

After depositing the colorful stoppers back in our room, we decided to beat the heat by just hopping on and off the vaporetto for a while. We were going to meet Kim and Mary about noon and visit the Teatro La Fenice. It was lucky we picked this time, because it was only open from 12 until 2 on this day for a reason we could not figure out.

We decided to purchase the audioguide, which I would recommend. It gave a detailed look into its history. It had burned down in 1836 and again in 1996. Although some critics say the place looks "too new," it really is something to behold. It also kept us out of the heat for about 90 minutes.

Kim and Mary then departed to go shopping, while Tracy and I walked down to a little restaurant by the name of Vino Vino. Since I had ordered inordinate amounts of vino during the trip, this seemed like an appropriate place to have our final lunch. Shockingly I had another pasta dish.

Tracy and I toasted the beauty of Venice (and I’m sure we said a little toast for Cupid, too) with a glass of cold Prosecco. The food here was good, and true to its name, there are many choices of vino vino to drink, which we did...happily.

After lunch, we walked past Harry’s Bar (another trip with no visit to Harry’s). To further beat the heat, we walked over to the Palazzo Ducale and took the Doges Palace Tour.

I think it’s the third time we have done this, but one good thing about getting older is how much you forget. I’m sure we’ll visit again in about ten years, take the tour and it will all seem new to us again. The audioguide is a must here, too. It was then over the Bridge of Sighs to see the prison cells, and soon we were back out in the Venetian heat.

“Café Corretto” Tracy asked?

Amazingly I said no to grappa on this afternoon. I knew it must be about time to go home.

On our final night, Kim and Mary generously took us out to dinner at the Calcina’s La Piscina restaurant to thank us for planning this long journey. Although La Piscina does not have the greatest food in Venice, I wanted to dine here because I could think of no better spot to have our final meal than on a candlelit patio watching the moon slowly rise over the canal.

The four of us walked around Dorsoduro for a final time; then went back to our rooms to pack. Both couples had early flights, and we had reservations on the water taxi that would pick us up at 4:30 a.m.

Mary called our room at 4 o’clock to make sure I wasn’t still drinking (well maybe to just make sure we were awake). We quietly carried our luggage down the stairs to the La Calcina lobby, where the man behind the desk made us espressos and cappuccinos. This was our second visit to La Calcina, and just like the first time, we were very impressed.

It was about a half hour trip by water taxi to the airport, and it’s fun to travel the canals so early in the morning. It does give Venice an even more magical feel.

We bid arrivederchi to Kim and Mary and found our airline to go home. While in waiting in line, we chatted with a woman and her son from Washington D.C., whose husband was nowhere to be found. She then told us he was on the phone with their rental car agency. Sadly, when they dropped off the car, she thought he had the camera, and he thought she had the camera. Ouch!

When he met up with us waiting in line, he said no camera had been found. Three weeks of photos were now gone.

The last we saw of them was in Madrid where we changed planes. He was going to get on the phone again with the rental company to see if they had found the camera. They were not very confident. I didn’t want to tell him that between the four of us we had taken nearly 2,000 pictures (none lost).

We had to change planes once more in Chicago (frequent mileage customers equals frequent stops). I got on the phone with our friend Dan (whose camera is still resting comfortably at the bottom of a canal from their 2005 trip and is the guy who accidentally ordered the $200 piece of fish in Venice).

I asked him what was new, and he said, “Nothing, except that gas was five bucks a gallon.” I laughed, only to find out on our way home from the airport that he wasn’t joking.

It had been quite a trip. We had explored so many areas of the world we had never seen before. Each destination we visited holds special memories for all of us. I still have Buza Bar flashbacks at least three times a week. From Prague to Cesky Krumlov to Krakow to Dubrovnik to Plitvice National Park to Ljubljana to Lake Bled to Rovinj to Venice, we loved it all and everything in between (ok, the Lipizzaners not so much).

And even though we got tested near the end of the trip, the motto is as true today as it was when I first started traveling:.

ENJOY THE JOURNEY! ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING!

Brava!

Thanks so much for this fantastic trip report. I wasn't even planning a trip to these destinations before I read your adventures but now I am. Your lovely traveling companions who've made the trip what it was as a big part of the adventure. Luck you lucky them

I've savoured and save- every word - to read at my leisure - that's 60 pages at Arail 10 point. More than enough for the makings of a great travel book and heaps better than many I've seen published.

So when do we get to see it available in hard copy. Easier to read and - pictures.

Grazie

Damn! Your trip report is over.

Perhaps us Fodorites could take up a collection to keep traveling forever -- filing your most entertaining trip reports as an inspiration to all of us.

Truly enjoy your love of the traveling life. Thank you!

Thank you so much for a very entertaining & informative report, Dh I & another couple will be Leaving Riverside CA April 1st to cruise to Rome then travel Via Amalfi Coast , Ancona Ferry to Zadar , Plitvice,Zagreb , Ljubliana. Bled & train to Zadar (to p/u left luggage)then on to Trogir, & finally depart from Dubrovnik, over a period of 2 weeks. DH & I have been to Southern Croatia befor. Tom, we are all seniors ,and are trying to avoid driving this time so will rely on bus & train, or do you think it would be easy to drive from Zagreb to Bled & Ljubliana? I have copied most of your report. but would appreciate any advice you could offer. Thank you Jean

Thanks. A one month vacation and a six month trip report. What's wrong with that picture?

eigasuki - Yes, at some point, I'll have this all put to pictures in my "blog" and a video.

margaret - "or do you think it would be easy to drive from Zagreb to Bled & Ljubliana?"

I don't know about busses. The driving here is easy.

The drive from Zageb to Ljubljana will take you no more than 2 hours, all on nice highway.

It is just under an hour to drive from Ljubljana to Bled (watch out for the Slovenian policeman on the side of the road). While in Bled, you can go over to Vintgar Gorge (10 - 15 minutes if you follow the correct signs).

Have a great time.

Thank you Tom ,I think we will do that. what about the drive from
Zadar to Plitvice & then Zagreb ? then we would have the car for the trip on to Ljubliana etc. did you have any problems taking the rental car into Slovenia?

I enjoyed your trip report. Am bookmarking it for future reference.

hi again tom,

well you're one up on me - you've finished your 2008 trip report- mine is still a work in progress!

thanks for the info about the crakowdays apartments - I'm pretty well decided to book them, i think.

which room was which? [as in facing street and facing courtyard ]
- it's not easy to tell from their web-site. and which did you prefer?

I too bought murano glass wine bottle stoppers when we were in Venice - not quite so many of them though! stupidly I kept one in the shape of a star-fish, so that every time I use it, i worry about losing one of its legs. so we don't use it much!

apropos la Fenice, perhaps they had a performance later in the afternoon or a rehearsal? we went to a performance that started at 5 or 6pm, i seem to remember. When we came out, there were firemen in attendance, presumably as a precaution against losing it all again!

where next for you?

regards, ann

"did you have any problems taking the rental car into Slovenia?"

No problem. They stamped our passport, and we were on our way.

"where next for you?"

We are thinking about Christmas in Rome in 2009.

2010 - Six weeks all over France (We will split it up into two three- week trips, I believe).

Of course, if my portfolio keeps shrinking, we might only have enough money to travel to Santa Monica for the weekend.

"which room was which? [as in facing street and facing courtyard ]
- it's not easy to tell from their web-site. and which did you prefer?"

Sorry, I didn't see this before. Both rooms were comparable, but I think I liked the one not facing the street a little better.

Maitai...

Absolutely wonderful...I can't tell you how much I enjoyed your trip report.

As for your Christmas 2009 Rome trip...do it! I just got back from 8 days in Rome (I know I know...a trip report will be forthcoming) and love it this time of year. I was there for Christmas 2007 too! Weather can be hit or miss though...2007 we had a spectacular week, 2008 it was cold and rainy. But I will take cold and rainy in Rome over being at home anytime!

"I just got back from 8 days in Rome (I know I know...a trip report will be forthcoming)"

LowCountry, I will look forward to it, because I don't know what to expect from Rome at Christmas. I really liked your Central Europe report. Your report and the ones by Shandy and the Turnip (and others) definitely helped me plan this 2008 trip that turned out so great.

Maitai...

I was also in Rome for Christmas of 2007 too and did a trip report. If you'd like to get a taste of what Rome was like that year at Christmas by all means check it out. I'll try to post a link to the report here but if you click on my screen name and scroll down the list of my posts you will find it.

bookmarking

Maitaitom, I LOVE your reports. Sadly, no time to read prior to now, nor anytime soon so I must come back to this!

What a wonderful journey you took us on. Thank you!

Bravo! What a great report - I'm only sorry that it has ended. I anxiously await your next travels...

Thanks for the nice comments.

I got a call from Kim the other day after he and Mary finished reading the report. He said, "It sounds like we had a really good time." I guess he must have had a delayed reaction to the slivovitz!

Always excited to read your reports, so fun. Thanks for writing these reports for all of us. How could we see all those wonderful photos you've mentioned or your blog. We'll all be waiting---patiently. Thanks Jean

maitaitom,

I realize that many posters here comment on how much they enjoy your trip reports. So, I'm not sure I can find the right words to express to you how much I have.

Everyone touches others' lives in ways they may not know. (I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. We may not know what it is, but I don't really need to know. I'm comfortable in my knowledge that it just is.)

I've been struggling with work difficulties and health difficulties for a good part of the last few months. And what I want to say is that your trip reports have kept my spirits up. Whenever I had a really bad day, I knew I could come here and find your delightfully funny and heart-warming trip reports. And I tell you, they were like a miraculous salve for my limping spirit.

Thank you so much for sharing. I know that writing this particular report took a lot of your time, but I'm so glad you are so generous!

Thank you for reminding me that "no man is a failure who has friends".

Happy, happy new year to you and yours!

Paula

PS I am renewed with the New Year. Job is better. Health is 99% today!

You deserve many more thanks than have been posted!

More! MORE!! MORE!!

Thanks, Tom.

What IS your next one???

just to let you know Tom, based on your recommebdations [and very glowing reviews on Trip Advisor] I've just booked us in for 4 days at the crackow days apartments, for €88 per night [superior room as it's DH's big birthday].

so far they seem very friendly and obliging - they have offered to get opera and concert tickets for me, and even to bake DH a birthday cake!

I wonder what a polish birthday cake is like?

regards, ann

so thanks for the tip.

regards, ann

I've so enjoyed your trip report! Can't wait to see the blog with photos. If a GTG is in the works for Buza Bar, I'm in! Sounds like heaven to me.

MaiTai: Sarge is right. Your trip reports certainly can give one something to look forward to.

Sounds like we should keep you on the road all the time, as long as you are sending back your hilarious impressions of the world.

Keep it up, and get those photos up, Please, please -- we are all in withdrawal!!

Where to start?

Paula,Thank you so much for those very kind comments, and I am glad, that in some small way, I was able to bring you enjoyment with our crazy travel adventures. Glad you are feeling better.

Jean (and others), Tracy has cracked the whip and told me to get the blog and video done, so I will not be sleeping for the next month.

"just to let you know Tom, based on your recommendations...I've just booked us in for 4 days at the crackow days apartments."

Ann, Now the pressure is really on me. I have talked with Tracy, Kim and Mary who all echo my sentiments on Cracowdays. The people were great and the rooms comfy. Once you get settled in and take that first walk down to the Rynek Glówny, I think you will know you have picked a good place to stay.

If you are driving into town, it was very easy with Lady Garmin. Also remember, that if you park on the street where Cracowdays is located, you have to walk down the block to a little kiosk, and get your parking passes for the day (fill them out and display on your dash (when I get the blog up, I have a picture of all the passes on the dash). I believe Saturday and Sunday are free on the street, but double check with the Cracowdays people. Enjoy Krakow!

lifeofmytime, The Buza Bar is my screen saver at work, so obviously a GTG at the Eighth Wonder Of The World is always a good idea.

To everyone else, I can't say enough how much I enjoyed our time in CR, Poland, Croatia and Slovenia. If you are stuck in the France and Italy rut (which actually is a pretty wonderful rut to be stuck in) and are thinking of new places to visit on your European travels, you can't go wrong by visiting any of these countries. Thanks for enjoying the ride.

Tom,

I've been hooked on your trip reports for years and this one was on par with the rest - excellent. You make me laugh, you make me cry, you make me think and I end up taking a lot of notes as a result. Confession, I print out your reports and keep them filed until I need to pull one out for an Italy fix or what ever place I'm needing to embrace at the moment. I keep your reports in big envelopes with the metal clasp. And when I hit one of those times where the book I'm reading isn't doing it for me I reach for a big envelope and begin the journey and while I sit in my comfy reading chair with a floor lamp shining down on the pages I revisit lovely places with these 4 kindred spirits who love to travel the way I do. Thank you for hanging in there with this report. I was so sorry to read of Cupid's departure. I could feel your sorrow in that one post. Man oh man, I've lost a couple four-legged family members while on vacation as well and I really do know the tug your hearts were experiencing. I think mine waited until I was gone to leave me because the goodbye is just too much for either of us. Here's to a new year, more life to live and, of course, trip reports.

Kim

hi again, tom,

no pressure, really!

we are flying on easyjet from Bristol so we're going to take advantage of the crakowdays airport collection service which they quote at pzl 70 - not a snip but a lot easier than DIY - whenever we try this it ends in tears- usually mine.

I have made myself a link to your report for future planning closer to the time.

thanks again,

regards, ann

Tom and Tracy, you never disappoint. This one is a jewel. Speaking of shrinking portfolio: we just got back from Chile, Uruguay and Argentina. Cherries less than $0.50 a pound, Concha y Toro wine less than $2.00, metro ride $0.30. Thanks again for sharing your adventures.

"I have made myself a link to your report for future planning closer to the time."

Ann, I should also have my blog with pictures ready to post in the next few weeks, which might be interesting for you to see. It sure is a great way for me to relive the trip. I think you will really enjoy Kraków.

Thanks to all for the nice comments!

Hello - do you have a link to the blog and photos?

"Hello - do you have a link to the blog and photos?"

I am still working on that. As soon as it is complete and up (within the next few weeks), I will post here. This reminds me that one year ago today, we were in Krakow. Wow. Thanks.

hi tom,

your thread just surfaced again, and I realise that i forgot to come back and thank you for all the help you gave me in planning our Krakow trip. [TR still awaited I'm sorry to say].

I agree with all you said about the interiors of Cracowdays but for us [and this is entirely my fault for not doing enough research] it was too far away from the centre. we got so fed up with walking up and down that street, and we weren't bright enough to realise that we really could have done with a pass for the buses and trams ti lit was rather too late to bother.

but we had a great time in Krakov, and particularly enjoyed the trip to the salt mines, the jewish quarter and ghetto, and just wandering around generally.

thanks again,

regards, ann

Great1 No, Awesome report!!!! thanks for pointing me to it and entertaining me

We are in active planning now for a trip to Croatia and Slovenia, and I spent a good hour being distracted from my work today by this... Classic! Thanks for taking us along on your trip, Tom! If only our trip can be half as much fun.

me too ms_go. Though I think I spent a lot more than an hour.

I was thinking of putting off Dubrovnik, but now I realize I must go, just to go to the Buda Bar!

ms_go, I am headed to Croatia in October. Alas, I will not be in Dubrovnik. But we are going to Plitvice.

I have to go back and reread this TR. I so love Maitai's point of view!

We are also leaving Dubrovnik and points south for another trip (sadly...but time is limited). Our trip will include Ljubljana, Istria (Rovinj), Plitvice and Zagreb.

Thanks for the recent comments. They have made me rework my website a little bit. I have now put this trip into a better format on my website, with more (and in some cases) larger photos. You can ask questions or leave comments on the website or here if you are going to any of these places. I'm happy to answer any questions if you have them.

What I realized when I reformatted this report is that our trip (even though it was almost four years ago) has remained so vivid in my mind (I can even still taste that damned slivovitz). If any of you get the chance to travel to any of the wonderful spots we were so fortunate to be able to visit, I bet you have an incredible travel experience. Hope you enjoy the photos. I had a great time the last few days reliving this trip.

http://www.travelswithmaitaitom.com/Tom_%26_Tracy_Home/Central_Europe_%26_Venice_2008/Central_Europe_%26_Venice_2008.html

Well Tom, I can tell you I am definitely going to be checking out the wine bar/shop Piassa Granda in Rovinj because of your report - not to mention the Buza Bar (which I misspelled above - oops.)

I am still working on my plan but will be seeing many of the places in your report. I am a wino so your recommendations are very valuable to me.