Beautiful, Beautiful Balkans

I have a love/hate relationship with my backpack. Traveling through the Balkans last week, lugging it from one night stay to one night stay and overnight bus to overnight bus, climbing staircase upon staircase in Dubrovnik, navigating the cobbled streets of Kotor, and trying to burn through 16 hours during an unscheduled stop in Zagreb, I kind of hated it. I mean, it's a big backpack. Probably weighs in at around 30lbs and has a frame that's a little too big for my body because it belongs to my ex-boyfriend. But, it's the only luggage I've brought with me, so when I put it on I'm truly carrying everything I need on my back. And that is exactly what I love about it. With my backpack I can go anywhere. It's all I really need to take off on a wild adventure (well, that and maybe some money-but even that's not always necessary). To me, my backpack is packed with possibilities and sometimes, when I heave it on first thing in the morning and walk out the door of the hostel, or guesthouse, or bus, I truly feel like anything, I mean anything, could happen.

Maybe I'll get stuck in a tropical storm in NYC, meet a Turkish filmmaker in Istanbul, become friends with a world class sommelier, eat figs the size of my fist in Kusadasi, sunbath on a nude beach in Samos, watch not one but two couples fall in love on Mykonos, follow my mum's footsteps in Macedonia,drive through Albania in the middle of the night, hike to the top of an ancient fortress in Kotor, drink coffee with Serbian high stakes poker players Montenegro, stand in awe of the beauty of the Dalmation Coast in Dubrovnik, see a Flemish theatre company play Antigone at an international theatre festival in Zagreb, eat the most amazing gelato of my life in Padova, meet long lost friends in Bologna, and learn (sort of) how to sleep on a bus. Just maybe... :)

To catch up: After a week of whirlwind travel through the Balkans, Elissa and I spent a few days in Italy and are now in Munich for Oktoberfest.

And now for the Balkans...I'll get in out of the way right now. That much talked about bus ride through Albania? Totally and completely uneventful. In fact, I slept through most of it. I may have opened my eyes to look out of the window a total of two or three times and all I saw was desolate, virtually uninhabited countryside. I know you were looking forward to a crazy story about this bus trip and I have to say that I too am pretty disappointed not to have one. Maybe next time!

However, aside from the uneventful busride through Albania, the rest of the trip through the Balkans was a dream (a slightly rushed, and moderately stressful dream, but a dream nonetheless.) I've written a couple of postcards from the Balkans and in each one I've tried not to overuse the word that, to me, best describes this part of the world: stunning. The Balkans are stunningly, stunningly, stunningly (how's that for overuse) beautiful. Macedonia and Montenegro are full of gorgeous forested hills, majestic black mountains and pristine prehistoric lakes. The Dalmation Coast is dotted with lush islands, which look like they've been scattered alongside the calm, green waters of the Adriatic by a discerning hand, and lit by the lights of quaint coastal towns, perched on rocky sea cliffs. Cities like Zagreb are one step away from being cosmopolitan without being pretentious. But perhaps the best thing about the Balkans? Aside from Dubrovnik (which unfortunately seems to have become a tourist city, a la Venice) Balkan cities are relatively undiscovered by North American tourists, making you feel like you're privy to a wonderful little secret (Europeans have known what a gem the Balkans are a long time, but tourism is only now starting to pick up again after the unrest of the 90s.)

When Elissa and I were planning this trip we received a lot of criticism from people about our plan to traverse the Balkans. Even seasoned travelers, somehow mislead to believe that the violence and turmoil that lead to the breakup of Yugoslavia is still raging, told me that they would never even consider venturing to that part of the world. "It's just far too dangerous," I was warned.

Now, to be fair, one of the things that was apparent during our travels through the Balkans is that there is definitely some residual hatred that exists between the different ethnic groups. Greeks hate Turks, Croatians don't much like Serbians, and Macedonians aren't big fans of Albanians. But, considering that this part of the world has been in pretty constant upheaval since before the Ottomans, it only makes sense that feelings like this exist. For North Americans, weaned on political correctness from a young age, hearing someone say, "I don't hate Turks, I just don't like them. They're not good people," might be a little jarring and difficult to understand, but by no means does it indicate a society that is in any way dangerous. If anything, opening yourself up to meeting people who have been through what people in the Balkans have been through will only help you to better understand yourself, your own prejudices, and the world around you.

So, my point. My point in all of this is that the Balkans should not be overlooked. Not only will you find gorgeous landscapes and fascinating history, but you'll also encounter incredibly hospitable and generous people. Forget about making that third trip to Paris or once again spending a few weeks in Hawaii. Take a chance. Put aside your misconceptions and go somewhere you would never have dreamed of going. I will tell you right now that the Balkans will be the best part of my trip. In fact, I'm already planning my next trip: backpacking through Croatia, island hopping, living in my bathing suit and carrying my backpack of possibility.

*see photos from the Balkans below*