READING FOR THE BALKANS: THE TIGER'S WIFE

I posted several suggestions for nonfiction and nearly nonfiction books to read if you happen to be traveling to Sarajevo, but if you prefer fiction, then The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obreht is a wonderful choice.

Set in an unknown country in the Balkans, the author draws from regional legends to create a story that is grounded both in present reality and in an enigmatic, mythological past.

On the surface, the story is about a young woman doctor on a mission of mercy in an orphanage in one of the war-torn Balkan countries.  While working to vaccinate all the children, the doctor senses that there are things below the surface of reality that her hosts aren't telling her. There are secrets everywhere, including some surrounding the recent death of her beloved grandfather, who was also a physician. As she tries to make sense of the sometimes strange world around her and to cope with the loss of the person who has meant more to her than anyone else, she remembers her frequent trips to the zoo with her grandfather and the stories he read to her from his well-worn copy of Kipling's Jungle Book. She also remembers his tales about his many encounters over the years with a "deathless man." One more bizarre story about a tiger that stalked her grandfather's village during a World War II winter when he was a young boy is the most mysterious story of all.

And that's all I'm going to tell you.

A review in The New York Times describes the power of Obreht's writing:

Think back to the wars of the 1990s in the former Yugoslavia, with their profusion of names that are difficult to pronounce and acts that are painful to recall: the massacres at Brcko and Srebrenica, the bombing of bread lines in Sarajevo, the destruction of Mostar's 400-year-old bridge.

None of these appear in Tea Obreht's first novel, "The Tiger's Wife," yet in its pages she brings their historical and human context to luminous life. With fables and allegories, as well as events borrowed from the headlines, she illustrates the complexities of Balkan history, unearthing patterns of suspicion, superstition, and everyday violence that pervade the region even in times of peace. Reaching back to World War II, and then to wars that came before, she reveals the continuity beneath the clangor.

Obreht was born in Belgrade, Serbia, in the former Yugoslavia in 1985. She was just 26 years old when this, her debut novel, was published. The Tiger's Wife has won numerous awards, including Great Britain's prestigious Orange Prize, which is awarded to a female author of any nationality for the best original full-length English-language novel published in the United Kingdom the previous year.

The Tiger's Wife may not help you understand the details of the history of the Balkan countries, but it might give you a glimpse of the region's soul.

BEING A CITIZEN OF THE WORLD

Last summer we took a big trip to the Balkans, and during our journey we were constantly reminded of the war-torn history of the former Yugoslavia. Our cameras were often turned on bombed-out buildings, and we marveled at the history, resilience, and beauty of the countries we visited that had been so recently destroying each other.

Belgrade, Serbia

Prizren, Kosovo

Mostar, Bosnia-Herzegovina

Traveling in this former war zone made the reports of the conflict we read so casually in the 1990s suddenly engage our interest and touch our hearts.

FAREWELL, BALKANS!

It has taken me seven months and 44 posts to cover our trip to the Balkans in May-June 2013, perhaps the most adventurous trip we have undertaken to date. Before our trip, we knew no one else personally who had traveled past the Adriatic coast countries (Croatia and Slovenia) of this region, so we were on our own.

When we began planning, we reached out through TripAdvisor for advice about the more unfamiliar places (Serbia, Macedonia, Montenegro, Bosnia, Albania), sure that someone out there had done a similar driving trip. In his query, Bob asked about safety issues and noted that we were "adventurous travelers." Initial responses didn't do much to calm my nerves:

ZAGREB, CROATIA: LAST DAY

We spent our last day in the Balkans wandering around Zagreb, enjoying a visual feast.

This rather strange statue of a man appearing to serenade two dead men slumped against a pole is near the outdoor Dolac Market. It is actually a monument to a Croatian folk hero, Petrica Kerempuh, who travels through the country and pokes fun at human stupidity. I wonder what the story is here? For example, why does Petrica have a rope around his neck? Who are the two men, and what happened to them?

The intriguing sculpture was made by 20th century Croatian artist Vanja Radausa.

ZAGREB, CROATIA: THE MESTROVIC ATELIER

Picture from here

Before our trip to the Balkans, I had never even heard the name of Ivan Mestrovic, but by the time we had made our loop through eight countries and returned to Zagreb, he was an old friend. We had been introduced to him in Novi Sad, Serbia, got to know him a bit more in Diocletian's Palace in Split, Croatia, and again outside the palace walls, and then reconnected with him in Zagreb's Cathedral of the Assumption and  St. Mark's Cathedral.

We were excited to learn that his Zagreb home and studio complex, which he bought in 1920 and lived and worked in between the two World Wars, is now a museum:

ZAGREB, CROATIA: ST MARK'S CHURCH AND ST. MARK'S SQUARE

In the old town section of Zagreb is a very old Catholic parish church, St. Mark's Church, originally built in the 13th century and rebuilt and added to several times since then, making for an interesting patchwork of Gothic and Romanesque architecture, with significant 19th century additions of the roof and bell tower.

ZAGREB, CROATIA: A FARMERS MARKET AND THE CHURCH OF ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI

There is nothing like a good outdoor market in Europe. Similar markets here are like comparing a kitten to a tiger. Ours are cute and friendly, but they just don't pack the wallop that the outdoor markets in Europe do.

The Dolac market in Zagreb, while not quite as large as the one we'd visited a few days prior in Split, was still amazing.  The red umbrella theme not only protects against inclement weather, but adds a air of gaiety and brings everyone together under one "roof."

ZAGREB, CROATIA: CATHEDRAL OF THE ASSUMPTION

The drive from Split to Zagreb is absolutely wonderful. There is a brand new autobahn-style freeway that had very little traffic the day we were driving on it. The scenery  is an ever-changing mix of pastures and mountains.

These windmills remind me of the windmill farms not far from where I live.

SPLIT, CROATIA: EXPLORING OUTSIDE THE PALACE WALLS AND CALLING HOME

The northern Golden Gate of Diocletian's Palace was originally conceived as the main entrance, and the upper three niches were once filled with statues of Diocletian and his co-regent Maximilian, with an eagle (the symbol of Jupiter, whose temple is now the baptistry) between the two. The lower two niches flanking the entrance held statues of two of Diocletian's successors.

This large, wonderfully preserved arch is just inside the Golden Gate as one looks into the Palace:

SPLIT, CROATIA: EXPLORING INSIDE THE PALACE WALLS

Diocletian's Palace, the walled section of the city of Split, is an intricate maze of narrow alleys that can either be excessively crowded or eerily quiet.

While definitely a tourist city, it is also a very lived-in place, and the blending of tourist/resident, exotic/utilitarian, and ancient/modern makes it very charming.

SPLIT, CROATIA: DIOCLETIAN'S PALACE

Built by the Roman Emperor Diocletian in about 300 AD as his retirement home, what is known as "Diocletian's Palace" in Split, Croatia, is actually a walled city that once housed as many as 9,000 people. The Romans abandoned the city in about the 7th century, and thereafter it was gradually filled with Christians.

Photo from here

SPLIT, CROATIA: A CIRCUITOUS JOURNEY AND AN AMAZING FARMERS MARKET

From Mostar we head back to the coast of Croatia to the city of Split, the largest city on the Dalmatian coast (the eastern side of the Adriatic Sea) and the second largest city in Croatia. Between our map and our now working GPS, we felt pretty confident about this leg of the journey.

We began on what appeared to be a brand new freeway, but the GPS unit didn't recognize it. There is a difference of opinion about what happened next. Bob thinks the new road ended and we went the way we were supposed to and only felt lost (he subscribes to Tolkien's theory that "Not all those who wander are lost"), but I think the GPS unit, confused by the new freeway and not up-to-date on its maps, led us completely astray. Where we ended up on our printed map was far from any main road. It took several stops to ask directions of non-English-speaking Croats who gesticulated, spoke loudly, and repeated the same unintelligible words multiple times, but somehow got us back to where we needed to be. Note: If you are planning a driving trip in Southern Croatia, make sure your GPS has the latest maps uploaded, or that you are using navigation on an updated cell phone. Talk to your hotel people before you leave about how much of the new freeway is done, and carrying an old-fashioned map is always a good idea.

When we got to Split, we headed straight for our hotel, the Guesthouse Vrlic.

It is just a block from Diocletian's Palace, an absolutely fabulous location. It is nothing fancy, but it is very clean and charming in its simplicity. Our room had a fridge, which came in handy as I will show later. My only complaint is that the "wi-fi in every room" was really "wi-fi in the hallways."  It was a minor inconvenience compared to the awesomeness of the location.

The smallest tub I have ever bathed in.

BOSNIA AND HERZEGOVINA: DETOUR TO MOSTAR PART II, THE SAD AND TRIUMPHANT TALE OF THE OLD BRIDGE

The Neretva River, one of the largest rivers in the eastern Adriatic Basin, runs through the center of Mostar like a ribbon of liquid jade,

and it is crossed by the longest single span stone bridge in the world, the Stari Most, or Old Bridge. According to Rick Steves, this is the "granddaddy" of Venice's Rialto Bridge. The Mostar Bridge was completed in 1566, only 25 years before the Rialto Bridge, so it's technically not old enough to be a granddaddy, but you get the idea.

Mostar's Old Bridge

Venice's Rialto Bridge, photo taken from here

BOSNIA AND HERZEGOVINA: DETOUR TO MOSTAR, PART I

Our original plan was to drive from Dubrovnik to Split, but when we learned that we could take a one-hour detour on good roads to Mostar, a famous little town in the Herzegovina region of Bosnia and Herzegovina, we decided to take a detour. As shown on the map below, Dubrovnik is actually separated from the rest of Croatia by a finger of Bosnia and Herzegovina that reaches out to the Adriatic and gives the country a seaport. We had to go through four customs stops to go through that finger: 1) out of Croatia, 2) into Bosnia, 3) out of Bosnia, and 4) back into Croatia.

Not too far northwest of there we went through two more border crossings to get into Bosnia: 1) out of Croatia and 2) into Bosnia. Crazy. As reported, the highway to Mostar was very nice, with a crumbling castle or two perched atop the hills along the way.

 Miraculously, we only made one wrong turn (due to roadwork), and we quickly got back on track.

The drive was much easier than our previous Bosnia experience driving to Sarajevo. I can see now why most tour companies go to Sarajevo via Mostar. However, while the road was much better and much more direct, it wasn't nearly as exciting as our drive into Sarajevo from the north. 

CROATIA: DUBROVNIK SMILES

While the walk along the undulating city walls and the pilgrimage through Old Town's churches certainly dominated our visit to Croatia, there were quite a few other odds and ends that we enjoyed along the way. The first thing that caught my eye as we entered the city walls was a citrus tree that looked strangely familiar, although it was taller and had a lot more trunk than its cousins in my yard:

Note that all the fruit from the lower branches has been picked, but there are still oranges to be had for someone who is willing to lean really really really far over the wall to pick them from above.

The Croatian flag's patchwork center is very unique, and we have to admire their choice of colors:

I adore this statue of Marin Drzic (1508-1567), considered Croatia's finest Renaissance poet, playwright, and prose writer. He seems so pensive, doesn't he?

CROATIA: DRIVING TO DUBROVNIK AND CLIMBING THE CITY WALLS

After our morning hike up to the Kotor Fortress, we set out for our next destination: Dubrovnik, Croatia. On the map it looked pretty straightforward--just hang tight to the coastline. Our research told us it should take us about 1 hour and 35 minutes.  Ha. Try three or four hours.

Good thing I still had some morning Happy Pills given to me in the States by my friend Kathy as travel nourishment. She knows me well. I was proud of myself for having stretched out the bag this long.

At first, it seemed that things were going our way. At some point, a miracle occurred.  After not having had GPS for nine days (and through Bosnia, Serbia, Macedonia, Albania, and Kotor), maps and directions suddenly appeared on our device near the Croatian border.

But alas, we would have done better on this stretch on our own. The GPS led us astray. Bob and I differ on how badly we were lost, but I had the printed map unfolded on my lap, and we were not on any roads marked on the map. After asking directions from non-English-speaking Croats two or three times and doing our best to understand their energetic pointing, waving, and shouting, we finally found our way to charted roads.

It was not the last time we got lost, unfortunately.

The approach to Dubrovnik from the south is exquisite. The road drops down from the hills above the coast, presenting a stunning view of the coastline. The brilliant cerulean sea, bright white buildings with red tile roofs, and verdant vegetation make the scene look like it is photoshopped.

If you look closely at the promontory below, you can see the old city walls that form a jagged circle around Dubrovnik's Old Town.

MONTENEGRO: SIX CHURCHES

If you've been to Italy, you know how every time you turn a corner, you are in a courtyard presided over by a church. About 100 miles east of Italy, just across the Adriatic Sea, you can have the same experience, but with a bit more diversity of religion.  One of the distinguishing features of the walled city of Kotor is its many churches. Of the six we saw within the walls of the city, we were able to enter only three, although all seem to be in use.

CHURCH #1
The Romanesque St. Tryphon's Cathedral is the largest building in Kotor, and one of two Catholic cathedrals in the walled city. It was built on the site of an older church and was consecrated in 1166.  It honors St. Tryphon, the patron saint of the city. A massive earthquake in 1667 completely destroyed almost two-thirds of the town and partially destroyed the cathedral's two towers, and money for the restoration was hard to come by, resulting in towers that don't match.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF KOTOR, MONTENEGRO

Montenegro was another one of the countries on our grand tour of the Balkans that I knew almost nothing about. Slightly smaller than Connecticut, it is a tiny country, even by Balkan standards, but it is full of personality and chutzpah. In spite of the wars and break up of the Yugoslavian Union in the early 1990s, Montenegro elected to stay attached to Serbia in a loose union, but ten years later they became increasingly upset about Slobodan Milosovic's policies in Kosovo. Finally, in 2006, Montenegrins narrowly voted for independence, and, unlike many of the other Yugoslavian defectors, had a peaceful separation from Serbia.

Once we finally got across the Albanian-Montenegro border, we had a beautiful drive to Kotor, Montenegro's prime tourist city.

We immediately came into contact with local residents on their way to (or home from?) work:

LOST IN ALBANIA, REDUX

We left Berat late in the afternoon with the goal of getting to our hotel near Tirana, the capital city, before dark.  A distance of about 75 miles would normally be an easy two-hour drive, but we had learned not to "count our miles before we drove them" in Albania. Our companions on the road kept the drive interesting for me and required that Bob be ever vigilant:

The parts of Albania we saw were drier than other Balkan countries--not as green, rockier, and with red clay dirt in places.