Slovenia, Croatia and 'Getting to Know Kevin'

A few days ago (it's tough to keep track), I left Budapest by train and traveled to Ljubljana, Slovenia via Zagreb, Croatia. Zagreb wasn't all that impressive. It was an interesting marriage of shining buildings and run-down side streets, surrounded by depressing suburbs. I ran into the missionaries as they were leaving Zone Conference. It's always fun to see them.

Up in Ljubljana I stayed in a converted prison-turned hostel. It's in this crazy part of Ljubljana that was taken over by hippies. A very interesting place. The city was beautiful and the cherries were awesome. Plus it was really great to see mountains again.

It's interesting: A lot of people travel to 'find themselves.' I had no such direct intention, but several moments of self-discovery have accompanied my Epic Adventure thus far.

The first epiphany came in Florence in the Uffizzi museum: I am not a huge fan of art museums and I don't like Renaissance art.

The second self discovery was the dramatic solidification of an already suspect character trait: I do not like it hot. That confirmation hit my like a ton of hot, soggy bricks in Rome and drove me north to Budapest and ultimately the Slovenian Alps.

The third realization came just today: I am a cherry guy. I know, I know, I always thought I was a berry guy. Well, there are two things you should know about the Balkans: there are lots of strawberries and there are lots of cherries. Last night (on my all-night train journey from Croatia to Sarajevo) I enjoyed a box of Croatian strawberries. And this morning, in the outdoor market of Sarajevo, when faced with the choice of either, I found myself unhesitatingly electing cherries for my tastebuds' morning soujourn. Plus, cherries keep better than strawberries. I can keep them in my backpack without fear of smashing them. Heck, I can keep them in my pockets! I love cherries.

Anyway, back to the trip. After a night and morning in Slovenia's beautiful riverside capital, I hopped a bus alp-bound. I went past the somewhat touristy Bled into the farming Bohinj Valley in the Julian Alps (named for Julius Caesar). I stayed in a bed and breakfast (minus the breakfast...I stayed in a bed?) in the first of a series of small farming towns that adorn the valley. In the evening, I walked through them all, stopping in the last for a meal of ground beef and potatoes with red pepper sauce (sweet pepper, mind you). The next day I hiked all the way around Lake Bohinj enjoying wild strawberries along the way (nope, the cherries weren't ripe there).

After a day or so of refuge in the mountain cold, I mustered the will power to again move south, toward Istanbul and the Mediterranian sun (granted I'm taking my sweet time getting there).

First I rode the bus back to Ljubljana and then caught a train to Zagreb, Croatia. From there, I left on the 8:49 train bound for Sarajevo that arrived at 6:11 this morning. There were no beds or anything on our two-car train, but a nice Croatian couple let me lay down across three seats in our coach and get some sleep. They got off just past the Bosnian border and I enjoyed (minus the incessant ticket-checking along the way) the coach peacefully to myself for the rest of the journey.