Croatia. Who knew?

If you’ve been reading our blog so far (Jamey, Shark, Harris) you know that we have spent many days visiting with and learning about our roots. We took in so much information about our culture and past by visiting places like Krakow, Berlin, Prague and Budapest. Since we left NYC on August 1 we have been traveling around what was WWII German occupied Europe. We chose this venue for our opening travels because of its history and its link to our Jewish heritage and family migration. It was something we needed to see.


(Andy with all her bags, rolling or not, outside the Dusseldorf train station getting ready to head to Berlin for our first overnight train)

There were times over the last five weeks when I, more than Andy, was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the constant movement of our days. It is not that I didn’t enjoy seeing the sights and taking in what Lonely Planet told us were must see attractions. It is just that, as the days wore on, I became ready for a new routine. We’d wake up and make a plan for the day. Most of the time those plans involved us “hoofin’ it” to find the bus or tram stop. Or sometimes we would just skip the trams all together and stroll around and through whatever Old Quarter we were in at the time, bearing crowds and tourist prices for 10 hours every day. I actually enjoyed walking all over the place. Learning how to navigate each city’s transportation system was always a challenge we both loved. (For the record, Amsterdam had the cleanest trams, Berlin had the most efficient trains and Krakow had the meanest metro police)


(The dynamic duo after soaking in thermal pools in Karlovy Vary, Czech)

After Aushwitz and Poland we headed to big, bustling Budapest. I wasn’t aware of how large this city was going to feel. We decided to stay a little bit out of town (that’s like calling Chicago a town, but I digress) in a hippie youth hostel run by traveleres whose goal was to create the perfect hostel. It was filled with all these young college students wandering around Europe. When we arrived there were 9 Aussie guys there drinking and smoking and yucking it up. Bob Marley was playing over the surround sound speakers. Andy and I had the only double room while everyone else was in colorfully painted dorm rooms, 8 people to a room. They had a TV lounge where some watched movies, a quiet platform just off that room was for people to lay on big pillows and read books. There was a cat named Tiger who slept the entire time we were there. We felt a bit old being there, me with my balding head and mortgage and life experiences, but still I was able to fit it: at least that’s what I told myself.

Budapest was, for lack of a better phrase, just what I expected. It had the grand castle buildings, beautiful churches, and former communist thing going for it. It had the Jewish heritage and the harsh sounding language. It had the meat stews and big beers. It had it all. It’s not to say we didn’t appreciate our time there, but I think both Andy and I were eyeing the prize that lay beyond Budapest.


(Eric getting ready to leave the Budapest hostel and head to Croatia. Ren, you can see the face I have on. It was hot and smelly in Budapest and i was ready to leave)

While in Krakow we had bought plane tickets to Split, Croatia, and personally, my brain was fixated on that shift away from being land locked and museum touring. From everything we had read, Croatia was very similar to Italy but cheaper and less touristy. Seeing that I had never been to Italy, that didn’t mean a whole lot to me, but anyway, I was still excited. We were ready for rocky beaches, fresh fish and warm weather. After a 2-hour tram, subway, bus trip with all our shit from our hostel in Budapest to the airport, we boarded a Sky Europe plane and flew 50 minutes to Split. The instant we got off the plane, we knew things were about to change. The countryside was rocky and burnt, a drastic difference from the cold, rainy climate we were used to in Eastern Europe. We boarded an airport bus and headed to the center of Split to haggle with old ladies for a room in their house. We knew we only wanted to spend a night there because all the tour guides said to leave Split and head to one of the islands as soon as possible. The water was calling us and we wanted in!

We picked the most remote island we could find and set our sights on a quiet town without trams. We packed our bags, again, and took a 2 hour ferry to the island of Vis. As the huge floater trucked along through the open waters of the Adriatic Sea, we began to let loose all the rushing around we had become accustomed to in the big European cities. We were not prepared for the island vibe to hit us so quickly, but I think we were both ready to allow our brains to stop thinking and just be. We could not have made a better choice.


(The view from the top of the mountain on our way down to the town of Komiza on Vis. Check out the windy road I had to navigate. Crazy!)

Vis is a tiny, 8-mile long island with two towns. We instantly found a nice lady who rented us a large apartment with satelitte TV in her house 2 minutes from the town road for $30 a night. We decided to stay here for a week to really let the place get in to our bones. The first day we arrived we walked for about 25 minutes to the end of the harbour and found a rocky beach for us to go swimming. The sun was hot and we were finally able to leave our room, apartment, house without our umbrella. We get to the beach and dive in to the crystal clear and warm water. St. Germain and other ambient music plays from the small beachside shack serving beers. Many of the women there are topless and Andy reminds me that European women are much more open when it comes to sunbathing. I smile.


(Eric and his trusty new pal, Kiki)

We swim for an hour. I sketched a cool lighthouse and island off the coast of our beach that afternoon while Andy fell asleep in the sun, worshipping the warmth. We hiked back into town and stopped at this fancy café along the water where we ordered fruffy island drinks and laid back to watch the sunset. I think we may have set a record for unwinding faster than anyone ever. On day two we, much to my prodding, rented a motor scooter named Kiki and went off exploring the rest of the tiny island. I was in heaven. My woman, with her arms wrapped barely around my shrinking midsection, had a hard time relxaing while cruising around the desolate, smooth roads. She relented as we pulled up to our destination. We wound up basking in the sun at a perfect cove. Sandy sea floor and calm waters were what we wanted. And we got it! As the sun began to lose its strength, we hopped back on the motorbike and headed for our home. We arrived just in time to catch the end of a Beverly Hills 90210 episode (dubbed over in Croatian of course) where Colin gets Kelly hooked on coke and Brandon is acting high and mighty over everyone else.


(Andy, chillin)

So as we sit in our room, turning our brains off from the intense journey we just went through in Eastern Europe, I can’t help but smile and think about how much I learned about my religion and past, how lucky I am to be experiencing this trip in all its incarnations with my beautiful, sun-kissed wife and how happy I am to be on an island where the only thing to do every day is figure out which beach to go to.