Athens: A lot of really old stuff, pretty busy streets, and bars with “crisis menus” out front, offering cheap food.

The ATMs worked, the buses ran on time, the flights came and went. As a female, I felt safe, but I was usually with Justin, so clearly “spoken for”. Some other female travellers (take this with a grain of salt, said women were 18 year olds) said men were calling after them at the nightclub. Vendors were constantly calling after us as well, so I’m not sure how that factors in.

Lots to see, lots to do. Pretty neat place! Excellent ferry connections to other places, but online schedules and bookings were wrong, unreliable, and plain missing. It was better by far to go to the office and book there. The prices were far better, as well.

Language: Greek is tough. The alphabet is different, for one, so hard to sound out the words. Some sounds are also novel for the english tongue, and frequently used in greek. Fortunately, english translations are almost always below the greek word. But you still won’t pronounce them properly, the emphasis is completely different than we would expect, and it will be hard to make yourself understood. Write down the name, in both languages if possible.

The Acropolis is amazing, and worth the entrance fee a couple times over!

Wandering Dubrovnik, walking around the old city, surrounded by other tourists. This is supposed to be low season, not like the madness of August and September, but it is still madly busy here. Walking tour guides hold flags with numbers above their heads, so their charges can follow the right guide. The guides give details in every major language that travels, and the people look obediently up, eft, down. Here is where artillery shells scarred the stone walls from the Yugoslavic aggressions from 1991-1992. Here is the building of priceless art burned from within, incendiary shells smashing through the roof and igniting the contents of the house. The stone walls remained. The interior was rebuilt here, in tourist central. The roof rehung, the terracotta tiles relaid on the roof. The art however, is gone. Here is where the walls were expanded when the Turks became a mounting threat. Here is the harbour they stood off the sea siege sometime in the 600’s.

Here is a city older than a person can easily imagine.

Feral cats roam the streets. Life is hard for them, and sometimes sweet. I spotted a plate of cat kibble left out beside a dish of water. Though the cats do crap wherever they please, they do keep the mice at bay, and give the pigeons something to worry about.

A broad sweep of steps ends in a courtyard that most likely saw gatherings and markets from time out of mind. Now it is given over to outdoor patios for the nearby restaraunts. They put out the tables and huge square sun umbrellas. The people come flocking when hungry.

One part of the square remains the same. Small stands are set up, little more than cardtables, and usually women hawk their wares from the tables. Spices, candles, glasswork, and of course, lavander. It grows prolifically here and so they sell little sachets of the sweet smelling herb. I have been looking for one to remember Croatia by. And also my clothes could use a little help. There are very few dryers here, most people  doing their washing and then hanging their clothes to dry. It uses  less electricity, doesn’t heat up the house, and of course, things are so space-tight here that most people don’t have room for a dryer. They have tiny washing machines that have little drain hoses you have to stick into the toilet while the machine is in use. So, we have been doing the wash in the sinks of our hostels. With exactly three pairs of foootie socks, two pairs of hiking socks, and the luxury of four pairs of underwear, I don’t have to do laundry that often, but when I do, I really have to get it done! Washing the pants isn’t really high on my prioority list, and shirts only slightly more. So, a lavander sachet would be most welcome.

After searching around for a while, I found the perfect sized sachet. The price listed on the woman’s cart read 15 kuna, or 5 Euro. Well, 15 kuna is actually a little less than 2 eur, so this is like tourist tax for those too lazy to carry the predominent currency. I see this a few times, like candles in the church available for 2 kuna, or 3 euro. So, either 50 cents canadian, or $4 canadian, depending on what currency you can be bothered to carry!

note: the ‘ is actually supposed to be over the c in ´cevapi, but it appear my keyboard is thwarting my efforts at connect accentation

I saw it on the menu over and over again: ´cevapi. Usually near the bottom, usually reasonably priced, and I heard a few people ask after it. I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know how it was pronounced.

After learning a few rules of the Croatian language, I thought it was pronounced chevAPI. So, now I may be able to order it, but no idea what it was, Some sort of meat dish.

One night, we were walking back to our hostel in Split, Croatia. Have I mentioned wine is quite cheap in Croatia? You can buy it in any grocery store, and an expensive bottle works out to $20 CAD. We discovered that $5 CAD was the bottom limit; wines cheaper than that were not worth drinking. You can also buy single beers and ciders in little convenience stands all over the place. They cost about 10 kuna, or $2 CAD, each. You can drink anywhere except beaches. Glass bottles are frowned upon, but still available.

So we were walking back to our hostel. There may have been some beers and ciders consumed. We passed a “fast food” stand (which is anything that is not a sit down restaraunt) on the flat part of two main roads meeting, near a small clump of tiny dumpsters. It smelled a bitt like piss over in the corner, and there were lots of pigeons, and feral cats hanging around earlier that day. Once again, I saw the ubiquitous ´cevapi listed. Well let’s have a street meat adventure! In another language! 10 pieces for 28 kuna ($6 cad)? Sounds like a deal.

I managed to order the ´cevapi without embarrassing myself, and tho most people in Croatia, especially those who interact with tourists at all, speak very good english, this vendor was not such a one. I managed to make myself understood, asking for 10 pieces by holding up my fingers, and he let me know it would be 5 minutes. Sounds good! Whatever I am getting takes 5 min to prepare!

The vendor then pulls out what looks like short thick skinless sausages from the fridge, and throws them on the grill. Aww yeah, we have street meat in the making!

After  a suitable amount of time had passed, the vendor got his younger, more fluent helper to ask us if we would like the red sauce. Umm, sure? His manner was that of the red sauce being the thing most people got, so I assented.

A warm mound of dense bread, cut into a pocket, a bunch of skinless sausages, a smear of red sauce, and we were holding ´cevapi! We took it back to the hostel, and were assured by the guy running the desk, who lived in the area, that this was the best food, and indeed, everyone ate it. We dug in, and it was delicious! The bread was springy, the meat perfectly seasoned, and the mystery red sauce the perfect mild accompaniment to the meat. We enjoyed every bit!

The next day, we went for a walk around Split, and stopped for a ´cevapi at a small stand. They were out! However, a Croatian resident with excellent english heard our plight, and recommended a great place for ´cevapi, by the name of something Pauline’s. It was on a corner in Old Town, we should go there! So we took off, and asking several people for the best ´cevapi, and confirming Pauline’s, we finally found it. For 22kuna, we had fresh grilled meat, soft mild cheese, and superior buns. The red sauce was fresh and delecious, the cheese a perfect accompaniment.

Croatia, I salute your cuisine! From peka (white wine, potatoes, carrots and lamb/beef/octopus) cooked in a cast iron iron closed pot surrounded by coals) to calamari (actually  whole small squid caught fresh and grilled with butter to perfection) to sladoled (cheap gelato-like ice cream available on every other corner) to ´cevapi, things are delicious here.

The old tow of Dubrovnik, the historic city center, is awash with tourists. The entire walled city is given over to the spending masses, with a handful of actual citizens still living in the shelter of the awe-inspiring walls. This city withstood a 15 month siege once. And then another siege. And another. And the Yugoslavic bombing and siege of ’91-’92. Standing on the top of the walls, staring down at the sea far below, it isn’t hard to imagine.

There are people everywhere. There are shiny stones on all the streets.

The wine is really cheap here.