Corfu Greece

Corfu, Greece (August 21 - August 24, 2007)
Since I found myself in southern Albania, I could not resist the temptation of visiting the Greek island Corfu based on the legendary reputation of the Pink Palace hostel. Unfortunately, the stories were old as the Greek myths, and the place has since become embarrassing, deserving to be renamed the 'Punk Palace'. Thankfully, three days of cheap scooter rentals allowed me to explore this beautiful island during some very hot weather (~44C).

With the wind blowing through my hair, I sped past olive groves along steep winding roads and puttered through quaint little towns on my search for the best beaches on the island. The soft greek sand was certainly welcomed after the pebble beaches of Albania and Croatia. Each beach seemed to have its own character and appeal, whether it be a hip/popular place, wide-open sand dunes, or a secluded spit of sand among the rocks and hills.

On my last day on Corfu, I decided to add a little adventure to my adventure, and show the world something it has never seen before! Days earlier, I had spotted a secluded nude beach nestled amongst the rocky cliffs, and I decided to see what it was all about. As I sat on my straw beach mat still wearing my board-shorts and peering around to check out the scene(ry), I suddenly felt very conspicuous in my clothing. Deep breath... Ok, ready? I figured that there were are least two factors that would work in my favour... 1) nobody on the beach knew me, and 2) since I had a rather deep tan by this point, the sheer contrast of my pasty-white untanned bits and pieces would surely cause retinal damage to anyone daring to see what the source of the blinding white light was... don't worry... I will spare you the picture (other than the mental image already burned into your memory)! It was an interesting experience to watch families, couples, and random other people be happy with their bodies and enjoy their own little bit of freedom.



Corfu. Scootering around Corfu with Kiwi Ritch in the background.



Corfu. One of the popular beaches with me posing...


Corfu. View of islands, boats, and beautiful water.


Corfu. Silhouette of the cliffs from above.


Corfu. View of bay from atop mountain pass.



Corfu. Alleyway in small town.


Corfu. Graffiti wall along 'highway'.


Corfu. Beach silhouette near sunset.


Corfu. Corn drying on colourful stairway.


Corfu. Small town doors.


Corfu. Slippers, doorway, and high-tech-locking device.


Corfu. Misleading sign... further down this road was the clothing-optional beach.


Corfu. The clothing-optional beach from above.

Albanians... Relax (Take It Easy)

Albania (Tirana - Aug 14-16 / Dhermi Beach - Aug 16 - 21)


TIRANA

Prepared by daunting stories from other travelers and the menacing look of the Albanian flag, I set out without my guidebook for some adventures into Albania. The journey was unexpectedly effortless as I managed to make some lucky connections to the capital, Tirana, and also got some advice on places to stay from some random backpackers and a friendly Albanian military guy walking down the street. On the minibus into Albania, I met a Belgian girl with whom I shared a hotel room for the first night... unfortunately for me, watching paint dry would have been more interesting than to spend an evening of conversation with this girl. We eagerly parted ways the next day and moved to a hostel.

As it seems with many cities in the Balkans, Tirana suffers from electrical shortages. Rotating power outages caused many stores to operate in the dark, or to shut down. But the majority of streetside businesses relied upon gas-powered generators to keep operating. These generators seemed to go unnoticed by the Albanians, as they sat in outdoor cafes being bombarded by fumes and noise. As I sat in one of the many trendy cafes enjoying an unexpectedly expensive beer ($5 cdn for a pint), I watched the abundant local fashionistas who had definitely put some effort into their wardrobe and looks for the evening. I felt underdressed and under-styled in my traveler attire of shorts and a button-up short-sleeved shirt. I watched as boys about 7 years old sold cigarettes and gum to people in the cafes, on the street, or wherever they could get a nickel... except in my case, these vicious little entrepreneurs were after much more than a nickel. After getting busted for taking a photo of a particularly young and aggressive saleskid, he chased after me to guilt me into buying something from him... at a price that was surely set for guilty tourists. After about 15 minutes of negotiations/confrontations, and mediated by some older locals, we settled on an exorbitant price of 70 cents for some soggy sticks of gum.

Tirana appears to be a city of contrasts... the young generation with sights set on the western world of fashion/business/image, an older generation content with the world being a little chaotic /simple/haphazard, and also the street people who scavenged garbage bins and whos infants sleep soundly on open park paths and in the middle of busy sidewalks. Old men sit in stores peddling colourful but questionable useful birdcages or shoes that may or may not have a matching pair anywhere in the store. The 'bus stations' consist of a roadside or corner with several buses and people yelling (advertising) the destinations. The buses have no schedule, they leave only when they are full, and are ridiculously cheap.

DHERMI BEACH

On the morning I was leaving Tirana, I met a Kiwi guy in the hostel as we were both watching the random-hostel-dog shake some poor traveler from his sleep by gnawing on his foot. We discovered we had a somewhat similar itinerary... South. Some local people we met on the buses had recommended a secluded local beach with a good party scene several hours down the coast. We abandoned our original plans, caught a sequence of mini-buses, and haggled with a taxi driver who drove his Mercedes like a raging maniac through the twists and turns of the mountain highway passes to drop us off at this mysterious beach essentially in the middle of nowhere.

All hotels were full. We found ourselves at the far end of the beach, contemplating sleeping in an old abandoned concrete military cupola while stashing our bags up in the hills... Figuring the sun would be particularly annoying at 5am with no cover, we took one more look along the beach and found an inconspicuous campground with a hut available. Banana trees in the yard, massive mountains as a backdrop, and a shower (hose) under an orange tree... perfect.

Dhermi Beach somehow attracts locals from the surrounding (?) towns to a cabana-type bar called Havanas. Real DJs with a very good sound system and an opening time of midnight ensures that the party begins and ends properly. The songs of influence here were:
-Relax (Take It Easy) - Mika
-Love 2 Love U Baby - David Vendetta
-Rise Up - Yves Larock
-Who's Afraid of Detroit - Stanton Warriors Remix

We met a few exceptional people at our stay in Dhermi Beach including a sexy water-doused lawyer, a beautiful and multiply-talented architect, and a professional violinist with a friend passionate about opera-singing. I wish I could spend more time with each of these people, as they all have tremendous talents, skills, and life-desires that I only had time to scratch the surface and discover.

My last night in Dhermi Beach was quiet. I laid by myself on the rocky beach with my ipod, watched the shooting stars, and smiled.




Tirana. Monument and Albanian flag.


Tirana. Message in the logbook at the hostel.


Tirana. One of the shoe stores.



Tirana. The 'bus station'.


Tirana. Young entrepreneurs.


Tirana. Another shop selling... well, probably almost anything.


Tirana. Specialty shop - birdcages.


Tirana. Family scavenging from the garbage bins.

Dhermi Beach. Pebbles, beach umbrellas, Havana's, and mountains.


Dhermi Beach. Kiwi friend Rich, with 'Kosovo' the violinist.


Dhermi Beach. Our hut.


Dhermi Beach. View from the commercial end of the beach.


Dhermi Beach. Up on Havana's bar as we were leaving. I wasn't nearly as sexy as some that were dancing up there the nights before!


Dhermi Beach. On the way to Dhermi, the taxi driver careened us along the ocean, passing cars around blind corners...


Dhermi Beach. Rich and Dora the architect.

Montenegro Downpour and Beach, Kotor/Petrovac

Montenegro (Kotor - August 9 to August 11 / Petrovac - August 11 to Aug 13)

KOTOR

The bus to Kotor snaked along the narrow roads along the perimeter of the massive fjord in Montenegro, passing small villages, island castles, and city churches. As I was calmly enjoying the scenery, I decided to clean out my pockets and realized that I did not have my bank card or credit card in there as usual. My calmness flashed to sudden anxiety, assuming that I left these critical life-saving pieces of plastic in Scott and Daniella's car. I immediately scorned myself for not checking closer before departing, but realized that I couldn't do much until I got off the bus. Since I had only about 25 euro left in cash, I began to scout places where I could sleep for free in abandoned buildings until I could arrange for money. The sky was clear, the temperature was warm, and I was positive I could survive for a few days before desperation set in. Arriving in Kotor, I completely unpacked my backpack to find my plastic comfortably nestled in the front pocket of my jeans! So much for adventure...

With a relieved sense of urgency for money, I made my way to Kotor's old town in search of proper accommodation. I passed the small harbor adjacent the front gates that contained many multi-million dollar yachts guarded by logo-crested-golf-shirt-wearing sentries. I immediately ran into two Korean girls I had met in Sarajevo who barely recognized me... I had been going without shaving for several weeks, but had grabbed a fresh shave since I saw them last. I joined them and a friend of theirs for dinner (pizza, of course) sitting out by the fjord listening to live acoustic music. Distant flashes of far off lightning began to illuminate the hills as we made our way to one of the many outdoor pubs for the evening.

Very shortly, the lightning increased its frequency and the thunder boomed throughout the valley. A torrential downpour quickly filled the limestone streets with several inches of water and the power was knocked out while we were trapped under the cover of a massive pub umbrella. Only during the lightning could we see flashes of each other and the nearby churches while drinking beers and listening to some local girls sing traditional song. Apparently this happens with such intensity once per year (the rain, not the traditional songs), and I was lucky enough to enjoy it!

PETROVAC

I left Kotor for a random town in Montenegro (Petrovac) based upon a few random recommendations. I found accommodation and relaxed on the beaches for a few days to work on my tan and update my blog. The tan happened, but the blog did not... That evening I randomly stumbled upon some of the girls that worked for the people that rented me the apartment, so I joined them in the town at a cafe to watch the tourists stroll by. A few days of sun, and it was time to make my way to Tirana, Albania. In this part of the world it is mandatory to register with the police when staying in the country... I was not registered with the police for my whole stay in Montenegro, and hoped that the border patrol would not care (they didn't)!

A sequence of lucky bus connections led me straight to Tirana, Albania in good time. A few minutes later in almost every case would have left me in some desperate little town for an evening against my will!

Church in one of the old town squares.



My Kotor companions! Minja & Sujin.



The walkway outside of Kotor's old town, with the fortress and walls illuminated in the hills above.

Beaches in Petrovac.

Another beach in Petrovac.

A few cheeky tourists along the boardwalk!

Dubrovnik, Croatia

Dubrovnik, Croatia, August 8/9, 2007


After a few months without a car, it felt good to be behind the wheel as I drove Daniella's car down the stunning (although vegetation-devoid) coast of Croatia. Rising over the hills, the waters and hills surrounding Dubrovnik promised a visually beautiful experience. Scott, Daniella, and I settled into a campground on the outskirts of Dubrovnik before heading into the old town for the evening.


The limestone streets of Dubrovnik were polished to a smoothness that glistened in the streetlights... but only when you could see the ground through the hordes of tourists. Busy cafes, pubs, and eateries spilled out onto the alleys, stairways, and squares of the old town. We wandered through the back alleys and steep stairs to search out the town's less obvious highlights, and play around with some night photography. Hanging above the polished city, there was a constant glowing cross that appeared to be suspended in the night sky. The cross was actually perched on top of steep hill just outside the city that was invisible against the dark sky.


Beautiful, but too touristy for me, I decided to leave Dubrovnik the next day and go down to Montenegro... but not before a brief return to see the old city in the light. I randomly ducked through a small doorway which opened up into a tremendous view of the Adriatic with a cafe built on a slab of rocks clinging to the fortified exterior wall of the old town. Enjoying an early afternoon beer while watching people dive into the rolling waters of the sea, I figure that I have a pretty good life!

Unfortunately I had to awaken from my daydreaming and catch a bus from Dubrovnik to small town Kotor in Montenegro, situated at the end of a massive fjord and protected by a fortress perched above the city.

Part of the fortress built on the rocks, as viewed from just outside the city walls.

Alley stairs leading up and towards the seaside walls of the city.

Laundry being taken in sometime after midnight.

The hustle and bustle of the tourists milling around a church in one of the main squares.

Cafe overlooking the Adriatic on the outside of the city walls.




A waiter delivering food down the steep stairs to tables scattered in the polished alleyways.


The harbor outside the city walls.

Splitting Split, Croatia

Split, Croatia, August 7 - August 8

The busride from Sarajevo to Split was made interesting by the events from the previous night. My new friends in Sarajevo convinced me to stay out late the evening before I was supposed to leave. Combined with my hostel-room-turned-brothel, I was only able to sleep for about 30 minutes before making a dash for the bus station.

I had neglected to buy a metro pass due to my lack of sleep. My run-in (or more accurately, run-from) the traffic cops was something I would have preferred not to deal with. The corrupt traffic cops target backpackers for skipping bus fare. Approaching me with a smile on their faces, they asked me to produce my ticket, which of course I could not. They already had the 'ticket book' open, and showed me the fine I had to pay them immediately, which was certain to end up in their pockets. After refusing to give them my passport (wasn't quite sure what my rights were), and a little bumping around (mostly of me)... I attempted to leave the bus, when they slammed the door and wouldn't let me leave. After feigning that they caught my hand in the door (with a manly yelp), I was able to push my way through the closed door and past the officers. When they continued to follow me, I told them I had to hit a bank machine to pay them. Dodge left, dodge right, fake for the train station, then dart for the bus station... while carrying a big backpack, a mild hangover, and a rapidly approaching necessity to hit the toilet. They easily found me at the bus station and waited while I paid for my bus ticket (hopefully leaving in a mere 15 minutes). I confronted them and yelled at them to call the police, which I knew they would not do. If the police came, they wouldn't get to pocket the money, and they would waste their time. I wasn't sure if my tactic would work, but I figured it was worth the risk. And it paid off.

Splitting Sarajevo for Split, an 8 hour busride took me through the beautiful Bosnian and Croatian countryside, and northwards to Split. I met up with Scott and Daniella who were camping down the coast for a few days, and the timing worked out well. We spent a brief period of time in Split, then searched for a place to camp for the evening. The next day was spend lounging in the buoyant waters and on the rocky Croatian beaches before driving down to Dubrovnik.

Some architecture in Split.

The promenade along the water in Split.

Rocky beaches along the coast.



Shadows of palm trees swaying in the light wind.



Roadside fruit stands on the drive down to Dubrovnik.

Bullet-Riddled Sarajevo

Sarajevo, August 3 - August 7, 2007

Situated in the valley and hills, Sarajevo must have been an intense place to wage war, and survive war. Almost every footstep taken in this city is a reminder of the devastation that took place. Buildings are riddled with bullet holes if they haven't been completely bombed out. Along the footpaths and sidewalks, there are damages still remaining from roadside bombs, and several are filled in with red paint to signify where someone's life was lost due to the blast. White tombstones fill the many graveyards scattered among the communities. These are all constant reminders of the disgusting nature of war, and how it serves to exploit common people for the benefit of power and money of a selected few. Sarajevo claims to be a place where religions coexist peacefully, containing strong Muslim presence as well as Jewish, Orthodox, and Catholics in close proximity. There is a political and cultural complexity that I will never understand surrounding the war and devastation these people survived.

Sarajevo, which once held the winter Olympics, is still working to remove land mines out in the hills. I walked for hours at a time up the steep hills, until the houses gave way to natural beauty. These are houses that would be worth millions of dollars in any other city, with spectacular views over the hills and city. At the very top of the city, only the skeletons of many buildings remain near the tree line. Sign posts are erected to warn of yet unexploded landmines. The Olympic bobsled track is in shambles due to the warfare.

On the other side of the story, people from Sarajevo seem to have a resilience for life, and the mentality of a survivor. The inner core has taken an extremely touristic turn, lined with cafes and a few bars. I met with some fellow travellers and a few locals who showed us around for some amazing live music and some fun times out on the town. As a note, I ordered something from a cafe which was labelled 'beef and garlic'. Sounded safe. When it landed in front of me, I was quite skeptical from the looks of it. My skepticism was elevated when it tasted somewhat like fish, and quite possibly one of the worst textures I have ever put in my mouth. I asked everyone at my table to try some just for confirmation. Inquisitive minds can sometimes endanger themselves... I knew I shouldn't, but I later asked what exactly that meal was, and they informed me that it was cow brain... Unfortunately, the last thing that went past that poor's bovine's brain were my tonsils!!

The bus out of Sarajevo passed some incredible scenery along river gorges, lakes, and small towns as I headed towards Croatia.

Pigeon Square, the heart of Sarajevo at night. The Muslim prayers can be heard echoing throughout the town.


View from a lookout hill over the river and surrounding hills.


Another lookout view. Another graveyard on the right.



Graveyard view, looking u to the lookout.



A contrast between the now-lived-in house with flowers, and the minor bullet holes still surrounding the windows. The devastation is typically much worse than this!


Typical alley.



These signposts also had me slightly worried...


One of my hikes along the deserted roads above the city began to really have me worried whether or not I should be there... Strange noises in the buildings turned out to be goats, which I can only presume there used to be more of them courtesy of the surrounding land mines.

Pace (cow brains) on the right... The last thing that went past that poor's bovine's brain were my tonsils!!


Some of the scenery throughout the Bosnian countryside.