| Submitted by: Evelyn C. LeeperUnited States |
| Submission Date: 10 February 2005 |
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) That and two sodas and a
container of yogurt came to 154 dinars (about US$7)--quite
reasonable considering the size of the portions. Mary's diabetes
makes food timing a bit more important, and limits her food choices
as well, but we'll manage.
After a stop at Kompas (where they assured us we would be
reimbursed for the taxi Sunday), we headed for the Dolac vegetable
market. Finding a path that didn't involve stairs took a while, but
after all, it's unlikely the vegetables are carried up stairs, isn't
it? The books describe the market as colorful and that it is, with
red tomatoes, green peppers, brown nuts, and fruits and vegetables
of all other colors. We weren't actually in the market for
vegetables, of course, and having just eaten we weren't seized by a
sudden craving for fruit, so we just looked around, took some
pictures, and then proceeded on.
We spent a little time trying to find a bicycle chain and lock.
No, it wasn't as a bizarre souvenir, but to secure Mary's wheelchair
when we went into restaurants and stores. We couldn't find one, and
when the tour starts it should be less important.
We saw St. Stephen's Cathedral in the Kaptol section of the
Upper Town, the original sections of Zagreb. As with all other
cathedrals we visit in Europe, it was covered with scaffolding.
(See my Benelux log for details.)
Then we tried to get to Gradec, the other half of the Upper
Town. This was not easy--at one point Steve and I were trying to
get directions from a policeman who spoke only Croatian and German.
An American tourist wandered over and we eventually pieced together
directions. These led, unfortunately, to a *long* flight of steps.
Okay, go to plan B: go to the base of the funicular off Ilica and
ride it up. It's certainly cheap enough--five dinars each (about 22
cents). So up we went, on a much shorter ride than the Penang Hill
funicular in Malaysia. At the top was the Lotrscak Tower, which
Steve, Mark, and I decided to climb. We did the seventy-seven steps
up to the third floor, then Mark and Steve climbed to the top while
I stayed on the third floor. In the distance (well, a few blocks
away) was St. Mark's Church with its gorgeous tile roof displaying
the Croatian shield (I wonder how recent that is). I also got a
bird's-eye view of the changing of the guard. Oh, yes, while we
were climbing up the stairs (narrow in a circular staircase), they
fired off the noontime gun. Scared the feathers out of us, I can
tell you!
We descended, and walked around Gradec, including seeing the
outside of St. Catherine's and the Stone Gate, which contains a
portrait of the Virgin which miraculously escaped a fire in 1731.
This seems to be a popular shrine, with lots of candles lit and many
'hvala' ('thank you') plaques on the walls. It's strange because
the street (now closed to vehicular traffic) runs right through the
shrine. (Why does Gradec, the craftsmen's town, have more religious
shrines than Kaptol, the clerics' side?)
At St. Mark's they were filming what someone said was a
children's film. Well, when the 'bride' walked out and lit up a
cigarette, I suspected it was a film and not just elaborate wedding
photography, and when the two trolls with hooked noses and punk hair
styles arrived, I figured it was *not* the filming of WAR AND PEACE.
We stood there taking pictures of the guard in their heavy red
coats (I pity them in the fairly hot weather) and the church when a
man came up and asked where we were from. When we said 'The United
States (America),' he started talking about Croats wanting to be
free, to smile, to have tourists (he was very big on this--I take it
as a sign that tourism was *way* down, and since tourism is a major
industry in Croatia, his concern isn't surprising), etc. But he
also had some very negative things to say about the Serbs: that they
were repressive (and oppressive), as well as primitive. We talked
for quite a while, or rather, he talked, trying to convince us that
separation was the right thing. He seemed to think that Slovenia
and Macedonia would side with Croatia--whether that meant recognize
Croatia's secession, join Croatia and be ruled by it, or secede in
their own right wasn't clear. He kept saying the Croats didn't want
war, only freedom. What will happen? Only time will tell.
After this long conversation in the hot sun, we stopped at a
shaded sidewalk cafe by the funicular for Cokes, then took the
funicular down and returned to our hotel to freshen up.
About 2:30 PM we walked across the street to the Mimara Museum.
This is a new museum which opened a couple of years ago and consists
of the private collection of (Mr.) Mimara, who donated it to Croatia
and helped plan the building and display facilities. It is a small
museum (3700 pieces) compared to someplace like the Metropolitan or
the Prado, but remarkable in its coverage. There is one wing of
Asian artifacts: Japan, China, and Southeast Asia. Where other
museums would have a dozen samurai swords, the Mimara has one, but
as Mark said, this means the viewer is not overwhelmed by quantity
instead of quality. Another wing was glassware. Two wings were
devoted to European painters: Rembrandt, Rubens, Goya, El Greco, Van
Gogh, Holbein, Seurat, Pissarro, Bosch, Renoir, Velazquez,
Botticelli, Constable, Turner, da Vinci, and Caravaggio (though for
the latter two they admitted the paintings might be 'from the school
of'). This is a pretty amazing collection which, because of its
location, remains relatively unknown. Of course, the Mimara only
opened in 1989 (Mimara died in 1987), so it's still very young.
When we left the museum there seemed to be a lot of reporters
clustered around the entrance. When we got outside, we saw there
was a film crew set up. It turned out the reporters were actors
playing reporters. Mark said, 'Isn't that Theodore Bikel?' and
then, 'And that's Omar Sharif.' We didn't believe him at first, but
then we saw their names on chairs off to one side. We decided to
stay and watch a bit, especially since Mary wanted to rest, so we
went and sat on one of the benches.
When they started shotting the scene we got up to watch. After
the scene Sharif sat on the bench where we had been. It was the
closest bench and so we walked back to it and Mary asked him if she
could sit down. He said yes and then started talking to us: asking
us where we were from, where we were traveling to, and so on. He
said he travels too much for work to enjoy it; on his vacations he
just wants to stay home (Paris). We talked about Americans and
their provinciality. He said most Americans probably couldn't point
out France on a world map (probably true), but also that they
couldn't name major state capitals (e.g., Texas), leading to a
bizarre listing of state capitals (one of my specialties). In all,
we talked for about twenty minutes before he was called for the next
shot (he said this was fast; in the United States or Western Europe
set-ups take much longer). All in all, he was very friendly and
gracious, signing a lot of autographs for children (and adults)
nearby. (Oh, the movie is called MEMORIES OF MIDNIGHT.)
After that, we returned to the hotel and wrote in our logs
until it was time for the group to get together (7:30 PM). We went
down to the lobby and a quarter of the people were there already--
two! Yes, our 'group' is eight people. Besides the four of us are
Ada Hale (from Argentina), Noami (from Uruguay), and another couple
who were too tired to come to dinner. We sorted out all the
technical details, then went upstairs to change, as we were eating
at the fancy restaurant in the hotel. They required jackets, so
Mark wore a tie and his cardigan sweater, and Steve borrowed my
corduroy blazer. I got a chance to wear my skirt and good blouse,
so it wasn't a waste packing them.
So we're sitting there in the restaurant, making chit-chat with
our two companions and our guide (Mojca Cajnko) when Theodore Bikel,
Jane Seymour, and Omar Sharif walked by. And Sharif stopped at our
table, said hello to us, and wished us a good dinner.
Sometimes life hands you a moment so perfect you wish everyone
who ever sneered at you could be there.
Mojca practically fell off her chair. 'Do you know who that
is? That's Omar Sharif!' 'Oh, yes, we met him at the Mimara today
and talked with him a while.' Or as I said, 'We didn't waste any
time when we hit town.' She had already been surprised at the
amount of sight-seeing we had done, but this was clearly way beyond
the usual tour member's ambition.
Dinner was a bit of an anti-climax: cold ham appetizer, cheese
strudel, veal cutlet (and extremely salty vegetables), a salad, and
dessert. For dessert I had poppyseed cake and Mark had fruit cake
(not like holiday fruitcake, but a cake with fruit topping). I
really liked mine--very unusual, with a topping something like jam
and then chocolate over that.
The restaurant was very empty--only three small groups.
Tourism *is* way down this year--good for us (fewer crowds) but bad
for the local economy.
Then the usual log-writing and bed.
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At the buffet breakfast we met Sam and Susan,
the last two tour members. They'd been traveling for six months
already and had plans through August, all with organized tours.
He's in real estate in Los Angeles, obviously a very lucrative
field.
At 8 AM we left on our city tour. The city guide gave us the
usual background information while our driver (Tone) negotiated his
way through some really awful traffic (and, yes, there were a lot of
Yugos). Obviously, what I said yesterday about the lack of traffic
was inaccurate--it was entirely because it was Sunday. Zagreb is
the capital of Croatia, and was first mentioned in 1093 or 1094, or
at least Kaptol was; Gradec (pronounced 'Greech') was mentioned
about a hundred years later. The lower part of the town came much
later,
We passed a couple of interesting buildings. There was the
Croatian National Theatre, of course (also called the Opera House).
There was the Exhibition Pavilion (or Art Pavilion) which was first
built in Budapest; then the framework was dismantled and transported
to Zagreb. And there was an art gallery designed by Ivan Mestrovic
(who also designed the fountain in front of the Croatian National
Theatre), which had been turned in to a 'Museum of the Revolution,'
but seemed likely to revert to art galleryhood soon.
Changes like these outdate guide book information quickly.
What I had called 'Trg Republike' yesterday turns out to be named
'Trg Ban Jelacic.' The Croatian flag is everywhere; the Yugoslav
flag nowhere to be seen. Both have red, white, and blue horizontal
stripes, but the red star in the center of the latter is replaced by
the red-and-white checkerboarded coat of arms of Croatia for the
former. In fact, people here so dislike the red stars that on
license plates many paint over it with white paint or put a Croatian
coat of arms sticker over it.
We finally got to Gradec and had a walking tour. |
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