Dubrovnik

Im doing by best to keep dry here in Dubrovnik. A beautiful Southern Croatian town on the coast of the Adriatic Sea. Its the first time Ive ever seen the Mediterranean and its as impressive as they say. The mild weather all year has me ducking from falling oranges and lemons, dodging thicket after thicket of blooming rosemary smelling of pine resin and crowned by a halo of purple flowers. Palms, salty sea breezes, the sound of waves gently lapping the rocky coast...and sideways rain strong enough to rip the pants right off ya! Its does put a cool mood on the place to see locals about their daily business with black umbrellas as they walk the ivory white streets of the old town. Aside from that the foul weather has me wishing I could come back in the fall when ther weather is perfect and rent a boat for a little sail around the harbor. Right now, as always, there are few places lonlelier than a beach town in winter. Things are closed down and there isnt much activity in the streets. Ive definitly missed the party in this town and instead Ive been keeping busy reading about this impossily complicated political history and going to the movies at night. Im really looking forward to working on a farm or two in Italia..theres only so many museums and ruins a guy can see before the need to do something productive becomes all pervasive. Dubrovnik is kind weird too in that the old town which is the beautiful touristy area and the downtown where the people who live here do their business are seperated by a looooong walk or a bus ride. So goods and services in the tourist areas are the only accesable ones and theyre pretty expensive compared to the rest of the area. A paperback book cost 24 dollars US, a bowl of pasta with some mussels was 20 dollars. The fact that youre gonna pay for your time here is pretty noticeable and unplesently so.

I am in fantastic shape though. This town is comprised of thousands of steps that lead from the old town to the hills over looking the sea where I am staying. To go anywhere on foot mean a thousand steps and youre in a sweat every time you get back to the house. Did i mention there were a lot of steps here? Im off to Italy today by way of a town called Split in Croatia. With any luck Ill be learning Italian by Thursday.

d

Free Viagra samples...

I can't remember if i mentioned in my last post if Bosnia was a mostly Muslim country. There were more than a few mosques back in Sarajevo and many more in Mostar. Mostar is a much smaller town to the south of Sarajevo in Bosnia that was, as a result of the war with Serbia 13 years ago, badly damaged by grenades and gun fire. Mostar means bridge keeper in Bosnian and is a truly beautiful town. Its old streets are confined to a small cluster of dwellings on either side of a bright blue rushing river connected by its famous bridge. The Bridge has a delicate Gothic arch that characterizes most Islamic architecture and its sand colored stone looks from a the high hills above to be a dried wishbone balanced above a miraculously turquoise river. The town itself has smaller rivers running underneath it that join with its main artery in dramatic waterfalls along the cliff sides. These smaller waterways are built into the towns architecture to reveal themselves as they emerge from under sidewalks to form boarders of courtyards and many flowing pools connected by polished stone walkways and terraces. The sound if the water's turbulence is audible from anywhere within the old town making even sitting on a curbside an entertaining event. More incredible than the fact that this was all built at one time by hand, quarried by hand, designed with paper and pencil, and lived in for centuries by an extinct empire is that only 13 years ago it was all but reduced to rubble by the Serbian army , and in the last ten years been rebuilt to its original state.

Short historical aside: In an attempt to stop Bosnia from leaving the Kingdom of the Serbs, aka Yugoslavia, the Serbian govt went to war with Bosnia and tried to cleanse the country of its Muslims, which thanks to the lions share of the Yugoslavian military hardware they had at their disposal, they pretty much did.

Bosnia is now a recovering country that has managed to rebuild the historical sites of its cities, but has yet to mend its outlying areas. A quick walk outside the tourist areas of the historical districts of both Sarajevo and Mostar leads to buildings turned into what look like paper mache models of walls, pitted and pocked by bullets and grenades. No windows, no roofs just two or three sided structures looking like they were eaten away with acid. I spoke to two people at length about what had happened there just so I could know a little bit about what happened there. Both men, one was the owner of a hostel and the other a salesman in the market, seemed eager to explain things to me but the would each reach a point after a short time where they couldn't speak about it any longer. I guess Im way off the deep end here but there was a lot of emotion close to the surface with these two men and could be felt in the streets themselves. In an attempt to explain what the Bosnians think in terms of living in a city where there is an Orthodox Church, a Catholic Church, Mosques and Synagogues all within the same square kilometer the carpet salesman said to me, "I don't care how you talk to God; all I want to know is if you're a good person." He reminded me that Sarajevo was one of the only places in the world where you'll find those houses of worship so close together with the exception of Jerusalem.."and Brooklyn!" I said. "Dont forget Brooklyn!" Its fitting that I get to spend my last night in Bosnia, after a sun kissed day on the river, under a crescent moon and a starry sky.

ps. Traveling alone is great when there are some people to hang with...when you laugh the world laughs with you kind of thing, but there hasn't been a soul to be hung with for the last week so send me an email, I'm gettin lonely!

Bosnia

Boz

Lots of stuff i've been seeing lately was once a more whole version of its present self. There is plenty of evidence of what a modern bomb will do to a building here and back in Belgrade. The reasons and wherefor's are pretty complicated and layered over abstract ideas like religion, nationalism, politics, and not so abstract, revenge. I'm just getting a handle on what's been happening here over the last 15 years and the last 500. The bridge where a Bosnian-Serb assassinated Archduke Ferdinand back in 19??. is just a few hundred meters from where I sit right now.
If he had missed Bosnia would still be part of theAstro-Hungarian empire and who knows what else. But basically from here I can walk down to the spot where Austria attacked Serbia in retaliation for the Ferdinand shooting bringing in Germany to ally with the Austrians. Then came Russia, who was in alliance with Serbia. Next it was
England, France and the US to help the Russians. That is like a pin-hole version of the big picture here which with the help ofWikipedia I'm getting my mind wrapped around it.

But where I am, Sarajevo, is an amazing city. It was once ruled for about 400 years by the Turks who showed up around 1450 so there's an incredible amount of Muslim culture and architecture here. In around 1850 the Turks were pushed out by the Austro -Hungarian Empire leaving their distinctive European Cathedrals and a Brewery. Walking through the Bazaar area of the old town is an especially different experience than anywhere I've been so far. People sip Turkish coffee (just fine grounds stirred into hot water no filter) which is served in little embossed silver crucibles. The ornate little silver and copper pots have a delicate little handle that sticks straight out like a sauce pan. It comes on little metal trays with a thimble sized porcelain cup, a few sugar cubes, and a glass of water to wash this paste down with. Its good and strong and leaves a layer of mud at the bottom to make the Mississippi jealous. From the cafes, the rocket-likeminarets of the Mosques are visible from across the street where four times a day people are called to prayer. There's little cubbie holes for your shoes outside the pointed arch vaults of the mosque entrances. Complementary shoe horns are strewn about the sea of oriental rugs covering the portico of the entrance.

Walking down some of the streets in the old town you can hear the metal workers "tink tink tink" working on embossing and shaping these little coffee pots and coffee sets. Looking into their shops you can see one or two men in the back wearing a Fez leaning over a work in progress squinting the smoke out of their eyes as a cigarette hangs out of their mouth. They will decorate anything metal including turning empty artillery casings, turning them into vases and old bullet shells into some kinda onament.

People greet one another with "Salam a lakim" but speak in Bosnian. The legendary Muslim hospitality is no legend either. The gentleman who runs my little hotel (I went upscale after Belgrade...yeah 30 bucks a night. Large livin') makes tea for me and plays Bosnian songs on his guitar. He and his girlfriend are younger than me. They're both open to answer all my history questions and have an easy going kindness that'simmediately likable.

The food here is again rich and delicious. There's this kind of pie called Burek,
Pita for all the varieties. Its a pizza sized pie of filo dough coils with meat or cheese stuffed inside. Its buttery and each wedge is enough do satisfy the pastry ure for weeks. I had one that the woman told me wasSpinach, but there was about as much spinach in this thing as in a sack of Chips A'Hoy! Chevapi is another big fave here. Little hamburger bites stuffed inside a pita with a pile of chopped onion. Delicious! I also have beenhittin' the Halvah pretty hard.

There's a well in the center of town that spouts water form a beautiful little kiosk carved with Islamic details and flourishes. The thing about it is if you drink from it you'll come back toSarajevo. Not an unpleasant fate. Even if it is hooked up to someones garden hose.

smoke'em if you got'em

I may have been a little crabby when I wrote this, but I've been holding onto it for a few days with out publishing it. I think even under terrible circumstances which these are not, it's bad manners to slag-off on a place that calls you a guest. But, now that I'm gone these where my thoughts on Belgrade.

If you've ever seen the movie The Matrix when at the end Smith tells Morpheus while hes got him chained down in the interrogation room that he can't stand the very smell of the humans and their world; that he feels infected by it, sickened by it. That's how I feel about Belgrade.

When leaving this ashtray of a hostel, the first thing that hits you is the pervasive smell of burning tires or burning rubber. I don't know what it is but the smell is everywhere in this grey city. Everything seems to be smoking. The air is thick. Thicker than even the reputed horrible pollution of Mexico City, which by comparison is like a charging down a frozen Alaskan peak with a mouth full of Peppermint Patties. The population seems to exist solely on cigarettes, even this hostel which is the first I've ever seen that allows smoking inside is permiated by ciragette smoke. I've been here 24 hours and I cant wait to leave. It's 9:30 PM and my bus leaves at 6:00 tomorrow. Not soon enough.

I'm constantly lost here because even the street signs are in the Cyrillic Alphabet. My street name is spelled with a C, something that looks like a "ghost from Pac-man", an upside-down "6", a "Z", and a backwards "3". The food is meat with meat. Do you want meat with that? or just meat with meat on the side? I asked if there were any vegetables with my meal and the waiter pointed to the parsley.

One thing that was cool is the Nicola Tesla museum that is here in Belgrade. He's a contemporary of Edison's who invented the AC motor, radio, holds nine of ten patents on the Hydroelectric power plant at Niagra Falls. Was able to do calculus in his head and a genius by all rights. He's even on the 20 Dinar bill. They say he invented the Twentieth Century. At the museum there are a collection of his gadgets that still are in working order. The last display in the demo was this induction coil that when activated, illuminated a disconnected flourescent bulb that I held in my hand 5 feet away. There was an amazing amount of miniature lightning that shot 10cm from one electrode to the other as the ions in the air were excited enough to light the bulb in my hand. Magic for sure. Tesla had a similar device that he constructed in Colorado springs around 1900 that could illuminate a bulb without wires up to 40 KM away!

As far as politics goes...its a mess wrapped in a riddle, wrapped in a flaky pasty crust. It depends who you ask. There's a Serb history student who works here who will tell a different story then some other kid just moving though here. Religion, Land, Ammunition, I've been talking history all day with different people and I'm more lost now than when i tried to read the street signs from across the street though car exhaust into the sun.

Can't wait to hit the Croatian coast which is said to be a little piece of heaven. The sooner the better. For now It's all just a bunch of funny lookin' license plates, and boxy cars. The panacea for these kinda blues is just to put'em in the rear-view. I'll get to that tomorrow.

"In America you watch Television. In Soviet Union... Television watches you!" Russian commedian Yakov Smirnov ladies and genetlman.. Yakov Smirnov. Thank you and don't for get to tip your waitress.

dave


ps. I've been in the Balkans for a few days now and still no sign of anyone with pointy ears and a logical disposition.

Pigeon train station

Still here in Budapest. I cant seem to leave. People keep turning up and something to go see and do always appears on the list. This hostel where I'm staying just turned up on www.hostelworld.com as one of the ten best hostels in the world! Ain't nothing wrong with that. The travelin types over here have turned me on to a few other cool websites which I will now list:

www.alluc.org (has almost every TV or video show available for watching with out downloading just streaming) My personal favorite from a few months ago is a cartoon called "Frisky Dingo" very funny and a great way to waste time on a computer.

www.wikitravel.org (same as wikipedia) but for travelin')

Budapest has these bars called Kerts. Its a whole style of setting up a bar in a courtyard or an abandond alleywaw between two buildings. Theyre not quite legal but most of the coolies in BUdapest hang there for drinks and dancing. In the early hours theres free WiFi too so a lot of students hang there with their computers drinking tea before things get crowded. Whats cool is they're never there two years in a row and they're pretty underground so theres never any backpackers there unless they get taken there by a local. Lots of Expats to be found too, teaching english and taking it all in. This place I went last night was like most of these places really beautiful beause the whole structure is made of old building walls and terraces overhead. There was propane unbrella heaters keeping the whole place warm and lots of moving lights, plants and a mirror ball. A most pleasant atmosphere. Drank a lot of hot spiced hungarian wine and slept straight through the night. Its unusuall to be able to get to morning without a stirr because it there's usually someone in the room who is a competition level nose whistler or someone in training from the Brittish National Snoring League.

Go to www.bbc.com/food and look up "paprika". The two hundred entries that follow would be about what I've had to eat in the last week. I'm about a fit as a butcher's dog these days. Last nights dinner was very rich and tasty: Stuffed cabbage filled with ground pork, braised pork, a piecs of roasted bacon, a whole sausage all sitting in saurkraut and a dollop of sour cream. Not a green vegetable to be found! There were these soft dinner rolls all flakey with butter and paprika and a jug of the local house wine. My half of the bill was 7 dollars US!

Night before that I was at the Turkish baths. I was like being in a James Bond movie from the 60's all the spa staff was wearing white surgical scrubs and it was hard to see your way through all the people in the locker room for the steam and fear of slipping on the wet tile. The baths themselves are really outdoor swimming pools shaped like flower petals with 1ö1 degree water from natural hot springs that run under the city. It was a Saturday evening and well after dark the lights made the steam rising off the pool look like thick white clouds as we all relaxed on the steps or under the fountians like so many dumplings floating in a steaming bowl of broth. The statues in the middle of the pools were Women pouring endless pitchers of water into the bath or giant stone fish squirting archs of water, which if you stood in the right spot, made for a nice free massage. On leaving we caught the oldest subway in Europe: the M1 line in Budapest. More like a two-car underground trolley, it was like an underground antique still in use.

Im off for Serbia today to a town called Novi Sad. Just following the Danube downstream looking for some sun.

strudel

dave

Jackie Chan

My train ride from Slovacia to Budapest looked to be as smooth as all the others ive taken so far. Midway through the trip being lulled to sleep by the clackety clack of the train as it slipped
through the cold night toward Budapest i was awakened by two Hungarian
boarder guards. My passport it seemed was in disorder. Ten minute. he
told me and returned as promised to ask me in travel sign language to
collect my belongings and accompany him to one of the 6 person
compartments in another car. There they informed me in almost noEnglish that the boarder police in Slovakia never stamped my passport making me look pretty suspicious. They then went though all the items in my bag putting everything on the seats until the compartment looked like a yardsale. They were pretty stern and I wasnt sure what to make of them or what my fate on the train would be. Thats when the quiet one found my kitchen knife. He took it out of the tea towel I had it wrapped in and said..ohhh. You American? You like Jackie Chan? then he started waving it around like some kinda crazed orchestra conductor. Jackie
Chan Jackie Chan he said. I smiled he laughed and i got to pack my gear
up while he phoned in my passport number to HQ. After telling me all
the curse words he knew in English he stamped my passport andasked me
if i knew how to get where i was going. He explained that the local
metro was closed down for the night. My nervousness about being sent
back toSlovakia faded but was replaced by the prospect of having to walk to my destination in a strange
city in the middle of the night. But when the train stopped and I got
off the two men escorted me to the cash machine for some local currency
and then to the bus stop with instructions on when to get off. The
kindness of strangers. big shout out to those guys and their foul
mouthed admiration of a martial arts film star.

This key board makes a speak and spell look like the Hal 9000.

The train station in Budapest is INCREDIBLE. I got out and looked up and
for a moment I thought I was out doors because the arching glass roof
was so high off the ground. All 8 or so trains fit side to side under
this one giant vault.No postscoming down in the middle, and swirling
stone work bordering all the doors and windows...really put a good mood
in me for what was to come. I later learned that it was designed by
Eiffel of the Tower and of the Statue of Liberty. He builds em big and
beautiful.

Normally when I arrive at a comfy bed late night its
right to sleep, but the guy working the desk at this Hostel was dead
set on going out to a night spot. He is from West Virginia and one of
hisPassions in life, it seems, is his love of night clubs. He recited a description
of length about which clubs were best on which nights and how Budapest
met his high standards for quality in the night life dept. I was pretty
charged from my run in with the guards so i and about 3o other guests
from my hostel and a sister hostel made our way into the empty streets
of Budapest at 2AM looking for this club called West Balkan. It was
like a school field trip of people speaking in five languages walking
toward a museum. The place was really cool. It was built into some
kinda industrial space with corrugated plastic for walls where there
were openings in the facade. The lights from insideprisiming through the plastic made it look like some kinda techno Mad Max oasis. After a few drinks I felt not only more settled
but turned inside out and upside down at once. A few hours earlier I
was in another country at an Opera and now I was working my way through
heaps of total strangers to the fight soundtrack form the Matrix. It
put me into such a good mood to see all these young freaky kids
together with this music booming, all this youthful energy well and
good in a town that has stood for over a thousand years.

Next morning back at the hostel waking up to a cutie that works here asking me if i would like a cappuccino. Ahh . I have arrived in Budapest. This hostel, by the way, would shame any
one in NYC that claims to have a nice apt. It occupies the top floor of
an old 5 story town house by the Danube and is in my opinion one of the
sexiest Apts Ive ever seen. Any of my NY peeps with a small apt fettish will really appreciate this. You enter by climbing a staircase flooded by
light from above. There are marble steps with an incredible cast iron
railing that winds its way up all four walls up to the top floor. There's four different
rooms, some with bunk beds some private rooms.The bathrooms are all beautiful 16 foot ceilings with white tile and modern hardware. The common room is where every one uses the Internet or has been watching the BBC on the TV. Lots of space and a cool black lacquer bar that has has the cooking appliances and coffee machine built into it. Its the Hilton for the Poverty Jet Set! All this plus free Internet, travel into, laundry, and breakfast for about 18 dollars a night. I would be happy to stay here for weeks if i didn't have to be on my way to Italy next month.

Theres a market next to my hostel that, again, left my jaw hanging open when I
walked in there. Its in a vast building like an airplane hanger with
beautiful ironframe work and terraces occupied by food vendors and every kind of souvenir shop under the sun. There are stairways spilling down to the main floor all through the place. There
are stalls with every kind of vegetable for sale, meats and sausages,
paprika, pastries, local wine and cheese shops, prepared foods of every
kind. The veg and meet stands were crowded in by old women in Babushkas
and beat up shopping carts. I stood for 15 minutes watching them make
the strudels which are available in 15 varieties and kept warm on
heated iron griddles. Ive never seen a real strudel being made.They take a piece of dough
and stretch it paper thin over a table cloth that drapes over a 6foot
work bench. they fill up with a row of whatever fruit or cheese and a
good hand full of sugar and then grab the table cloth to roll up the
delicate dough onto itself. The pastry isincredibly flaky and delicious. I had the pumpkin poppy seed and the apple. I cant wait to go back there today.

The food here so far has been incredible and is probably one of the most
slept on cuisines in the world. Back at the market I had this beautiful
stuffed cabbage with rice and sour cream, paprika allthrough it. I ate a plate of sauerkraut
cooked with pork and this pork stew, again, full of paprika. All that
food and a beer for 5 dollars. I was so full when I left there I could
only eat one more strudel on my way to see some sights. Gorgeous food
here. Get to a Hungarian Restaurant as soon as possible!

That was a long one. But this town is worth the time. I dint want to leave and I'm sure Ill be back. Tonight I'm off to these Turkish baths that are situated in the city park. The City it happens is built over natural mineral hot springs and when the Turks took over 5oo
years ago they built themselves some amazing bath houses. From what I
understand its like entering a mansion and instead of furniture in
every roomtheres a pool, some inside, some outside. Its a pretty
popular spot for most of the people of Budapest. But at the first sign
of any towel snapping...I'moutta there! More on the baths later.

goulash 1
signing out.

Miiiiillllionarrrrio

In Budapest at the moment but more on that later. I spent the last few days in Bratislava, Slovacia. It was a most beautiful town that I almost passed over for a quick trip on the train. My usual schedule is to wake up and look for a good coffee and something to eat, wander around the town, have a big lunch, try not to fall asleep, and check out the night life of do some more wandering. Bratislava was pretty much the same as its Czech neighbors as far as the food goes, but there were signs of improvemnt. I ate a more than a few of these little crescent pastries that are filled with this rich ground poppy seed filling. Not too sweet but each one the size of a dog biscuit weighed as much as a pipe wrench.

Lets see.. oh I did go to the opera in Bratislava. (mom dont choke on your bagel') It was pretty damn cool and fun. It was called Napoj Lasky (elixir of love) in Italian, and cost about 6 dollars US to sit in the fourth row. The atire was pretty formal but I managed to put something respectable together. The elixir of love was a pretty cool romantic comedy about a poor country boy who tries to win the heart of a loval beauty by buying a love potion (red wine) from a local quack doctor. He gets pretty drunk on the stuff and ends up in the army. At one point he learns that he,s inherited lot of money at which point the doctor (a base) sings Millllionario Millionario. With the R,s a rolling and the orchestra playing. The opera house was tiny by comparison to the Met in NYC making if feel very intimate and inclusive. The walls and ceiling were encrusted with Baroque details and there was velvet draped from every free hook in the joint. It was a classic experience to see a classic opera in a classic city. It was my destinct honor to be the only parton at the show sporting green suede pumas.

To top it off I was looking for a little place to get something to eat late that night and found this great little Scottish cafe. If your ever in Bratislava try to find this place its called Mc Donnalds. Really lovely. I had a burgsky, some friyskas, and a cokesky.

Bravo, Brava, Bravi
dave

Cultural learnings of glorious nation of Czech Rep for make benefit the U.S and A

I have arrived three hours earlz for mz train to Bratislava, Slovacia and this seems like a good time to catch up on the events of the last few dazs and write a few thoughts down. First off..this kezboard has the y and the z switched and I cant even begin to enter the complex szstem of commands to make all the other pertinent puntcuation. So bare with me and mz spellings.

The Czech people still have a long waz to go on the whole having good food thing. A prettz good coffee is hard to find despite what Ive herd about europe being a coffee drinkers crack house. Most of the coffee ive had was instant¨. But what is lacking in coffeë is more than made up for in Czinglish. Czech=english made up words that alwazs mäke me smile. Salaty=salad. Bagety=bagette. Chinzka=chineese as in chineese restaurant. The list is endless and I§m having a great time mocking another culture to make up for my lack of one.

This weekend I§ve been stazing at this little town at a loop in the river called Krumlov. As the guide books accuratelz state, its one of europe§s most beautiful little towns. And I confirm this as I have seen many european towns...three to be exact. THe river makes a sharp bend as it comes out of the mountians making a line on a map that looks like the stitching on a baseball. Within that little tear drop of land is a jewel of a town built on billions of individuallz placed cobblestones¨. From the Castle accross the river the rooftops are a jumble of tangerine terra=cotta and seperated by narrow cracks of street and walkway. Krumlov had some great weather this weekend and I spent a few hours on saturdaz two steps from a the river with a great coffee watching the ducks take off and splash down in the water. It was warm enough to sit out in the sun with just a t=shirt. It was a post card day, the kind zou write home about. Mazbe Ill consider putting it in if thez ever make mz life into a musical.

Saturdaz night was verz special as well. One of the Aussy workers at the hostel had his mom and brother stazing with us and she, the mom, Mary, was born and grew up in Krumlov. It was the first time she had been back to her home town since the russians pushed all of the Czechs out at the end of WWII. Its been 62 zears for her since shes been back and it was the first time shes ever flown in a plane. Saturdaz though was her 79th birthdaz and we decided to cook a big familz meal for the hostel staff and guests. There were 7 of us. One of the women who worked there made a banana devils food cake with a pile of whipped cream and crumbs on it. it was delicious. For dinner I roasted two chickens over some root veggies, made some roasted potatoes with this garlicky bacon they have here and miked it into some saurkraut with leeks, and made some chive spaetzel with cheese sause. We had a few 2 dollar bottles of local Bohemian wine too. It was a great time for sure. Marz was reallz happy that we we all there. At least I think thats what she said. It was a little hard to understand her Czech = Austrialian accent.

After dinner four five of us went bowling and talked about the big lebowsky all night. I cant get over how easy its been to meet people and get into some adventures on the road. At home I havent had a dinner guest in months and all plans to go bowling always get lost in the endless cell phone calls to confirm the plans which always change at the last minute anyway. Am I suggesting that¨in the future I come to Czech to go bowling. yes, yes I am.

high five!

The beer flows down the streets like wine and the women flock like the salmon of Capistrano

Back on the ol internet. I'm in a town in southern Bohemia called Chesky Krumlofv. It seems like one would be right at home here if the only alphabet they knew was from the letters "s" through "z". I can't seem to get a grip on how to pronounce anything. But THis area of the world is indeed called Bohemia which came from Boii hundreds of years ago. Now to be Bohemian meanis to have an unconventional lifestyle. I'm not sure yet how that came about but I'm still asking around. THe national dish here is called Beer. ITs a cold amber colored substance served in a glass that make you loose your balance and use the bathroom often. It is cheaper to by a liter of beer that a bottle of Coke so that is some indication of where the supply and damand is set. Sort of... But this town is another beautiful postcard scene. According to the Australian that runs my Hostel (Krumlof House mom and dad) the town is supposed to be below a thick blanket of snow this time of year. No snow though. I agree that it would be something out of a book to be able to do some ice skating on the frozen river and get some really nice photos too. There is a good amount of hot spiced wine to be found to warm up. THis town is asleep this time of year compared to the summer when its flooded by tourists. Its easy to feel a little lonely here compared to the buzz of Prague. Again, the old section of town is both beautiful but also the exclusive province of the tourists and the businesses that support them. Real life here exists in the plan towns to the outside of this beautiful jewel of mideval stone and nature. Not having my own wheels means that my travels are directed mainly toward train and bus stations. THere's not too many roadside mishaps that make for great story telling that I've had in the past. Hopefully I'll be able to rent a bicycle in Italy or Croatia where the weather is milder and get a little lost. As for now though, just working on my shutter speeds and f/stops. I'll be looking forward to hearing back from the friends and family. You stay classy San Diego..
-dave

Czech MaTE

YEah

Went to a concentration camp today. It snowed the whole time and the sky was stealy grey. THere's a duo of professors camped out at this hostel here in PRague that arw writing a book on the Holocaust and one of them agreed to chaperone a few of us to this concentration camp called Terazin. It was good to have him, Paul, with us because I would have missed many of the subelties and backround that there was to learn about what happened there. I'm not going to get into any details but it was a heavy day and I'm glad to be back in my warm room with a toilet and shower near by. I think I said someting to the same effect when I was in Cambodia visiting some of the killing fields there, but I feel the same way: that I'ts importanat to bare whitness to events like these so I can be more tolerant to other people in the future. I'm still in a bit of a funk over the day and I think I feel more JEwish today than anytime I've ever lit the candels or been to a service. It seem entirely possible that me or my family would have had our names written on those walls had we been born someplace else a few years ago. Oi. I'm off tomorrow to the south and I'll be keepin on keepin on. Till then.

love dave

Communist Cola.

A hoy. (that's hello over here) I've been walking myself into a trance everyday and trying to take some good photos in the overcast sky. It's been pretty challenging with no light and all but if that's the worst of my problems I can live with that. I've been drinking lots of Pilsner named after a town near here called Plzen. The locals here drink beer what seems like first thing in the morning. Stepped into a cafe this morning and there were dudes ripping into greazy meaty bones with a half finished beer on the table.

-There are many grotto like caverns and catacombs below every structure here. You go into a basement and its more like a beautiful high arching ceiling of vaulted bricks or stone. Its cool to think that most of the stuff here was in its golden age before there was even a log cabin on the shores of the AMericas. Not going to ago any deeper than that.

-Did I mention that everybody smokes here? I saw a baby in a carriage ask me for a light the other day. Seriously though.

-everything over her seems to be accompanied by some version of tartare sause. I think its the national condiment

-this hostel "Sir Toby's" is the best hostel I've ever stayed in. Everyine is soo friendly and it's been a real pleasure getting to know people from Lebanon, Germany, Sweeden, Czech, Argentina and of course the USA. Lots of opinion on the world view to toss around over a few liters of the local suds and its all good from there.

-Prague has been a beautiful experience and I have hardly had time to pick up a book or use this computer because the company has been so rich. I hope that anyone who reads this will put this place on their to-do list for the next year.

-it's snowing. Most besutiful.

One wild and crazy guy.

I don't even know where to begin but for a short explanation, a forward if you will. First things first. This is just a little journal to keep while making my way through a little part of the world. Um I ended up here in Prague, i guess, as the result of getting fired from my job. Long story there and lots of drama but needless to say I was right, they were wrong, and I was without a place to make a living for the first time in a year. It took some getting used to as a busy person suddenly having nothing that needed doing besides my own projects and plans. Fu** it I bought a cheap ticket and here I am. Two months from now I'll be flying home from Rome and that's my only definite plan.

At the moment I'm just having a hot choc at this great Hostel in Prague. Its sinday morning and I've finally gotten over my jetlag. This place where I'm staying is in a working class neighborhood that doent see a lot of tourists. THe hostel is great though: lots of friendly people here from all over trying to see and do it all. I've already gone out for some liters Czech beer with a few english dudes that were only here for a long weekend. THey were both 19 and told their parents that they were at a friends house in the south of England but bought cheap tickets to Prague instead. Actually the first night here I was out until 730 in the morning with these guys. I havent been on a bender like that in a while so long its been that I have to writw about as somthing important and amazing. Had a hot dog on the street at 700 in the morning which was a footlong sausage on a hogie roll with mustard applied with a paint roller and a pile of shreaded raw green cabage on top. At that moment I've never eaten something so delicious! THe beers and tram rides (trollies) are real cheap, 30 crowns for a beer ($1.20) and the same for a day pass on the metro system. Some imediate culture shock stuff: people smoke everywhere. They smoke in restaurants, in bars (thick haze of smoke where you have to burn your clothes to get rid of the smell smoke), they smoke in cafes, in the street, while doing gymnastics, in the shower.. you get the idea. THis neighborhood where I'm staying reminds me that 15 years ago it was deep behind the iron curtan and I can hear the "oh-ah" sirens of the KGB comming down the cobble stone streets to pick up a suspect and toss him in the back of their beamer never to be herd of again. Now its like a Williamsburg sort of place. Lots of coolies and young people opening bars and doing art projects every where. OH! I was at this bar last night called THe Cross Club ( look it up if you're bored) the owner had the place covered with these moving sculptures of metal everyting> Dismanteled carparts, utility parts, metal and circuitry of every kind all welded together to make moving mobiles and all the seating and the bar. Everything was moving and wired with LED's. It was soo cool. right up my alley for all that making shit passtime i have. He took computers apart and spraypainted the guts all silver them wired them with lights and used that to cover whole walls. It was like being in the matrix or inside the stomach of a robotic lizard. More weird culture stuff: They let you drink on the trams and let you bring your dogs onboard too. THey wouldnt go for that shit in NY. The trams dont check for tickets either. All you do is get a ticket at the hostel or wherever and when you get onboard just get it stamped in this little machine. But nobody checks. Theres a pretty stiff fine though if you get caught not paying.

-the packs of cigarettes over here have this giant black and white label on the front that says in bold type," Warning: cigaretts will kill you.!!!" not like in america where this little label from the Surgeon General who
-the food over here is not the benchmark of the society either. Not like the architecture which in the old town is pretty f'in magnificent. THe eats are generally big portions of meat and potatoes with lovely brown gravy on or under it. Yesterday I tucked into my first bowl of Gulash that had these bread dumplings with it (basicall boiled bread dough) and daubs of braised brisket. Whatever it was delicious and perfect for the cold.

-learning lots of Corckney rhyming slang form the brits. like if you say He's gone mental (crazy) you say," he's chicken oriental." It seems pretty open to invent whatever.

_the local language is impossible to read or speak. THer's fifteen consonants in a row and all kinds of double dots and v's and slashes over top of the letters. I cant make heads of tails of any of it. But most peopl are cool about me being a gringo and take it as an oppportunity to practice their english. Poor bastards.

I'm off. THere's flea markets and sights to see. Pick up a little Kafka and have a sausage!

dave out.

Czech one two Czech one two, one two

Greetings . Greetings and salutations. Beautiful day for a plane ride.....let's take two. If you're reading I say thanks and please leave a comment so I know you're there. First thing's first. I'm Here in Prague CZ. Overcast skies and around the mid 30's in the mercury. I just got into town and I'm staying at a hostel that' s in the working section of town. Not too many tourists and close to all transportation. I just arose from a nap and have returned from my first meal in Europe in a long time. It was pretty tasty: chicken wrapped around sausage covered with melted cheese and a side of fries sitting in a tasty pool or brown sauce. Heavy but damn satisfying washed down with two Stropramen beers. I'm just getting freindly with some very friendly people in the hostel, my dinner company were two Engligh blokes that refreshed my cache of interesting slang that I will be bringing back to the states with me. THere's a cool church made of human bones that's near here by bus and I'll be taking many photos of that. More commentary and thoughts to come. DOnt' touch that dial. Thanks for reading.
-dave