Auschwitz-Birkenau

I took a tour of the concentration camp yesterday. I'm still trying to form coherant thoughts on this. I think that the crux of the problem is that even after visiting a site like this, I am still no closer in understanding how it could happen. Our guide emphasized that the vast majority of those entering the camp had no idea what awaited them. They thought they were going to work in a German factory. They brought bowls and plates and clothing with them. You see the piles of personal belongings, preserved. You learn how the prisoners were treated, see their living conditions, what the Nazis did with the bodies. You begin to picture what happened, but there is no way that the scale of such a thing can be understood.

Birkenau was striking. It is vast, I would guess 10 square miles. But you still have no way of comprehending that about 1.5 million people perished there. I can't get any further than "How did this happen?"

Photos....

I have new photos up, Greece until now... Click on the link, and let me know if you have any problems with anything...

Future movements...

Another one of those boring posts to indicate where I am and where I will be...

I'm in Kracow until Sun, 2 April. That day, I'll take a train to Prague. It seems as if the overnight train is a bit theftprone, so I'll go during the day.

I'll be in Prague through the night of 5 April. (Insert visit to embassy to ask about extra passport pages. I wouldn't be so bitter, but all the EU stamps look alike. All are a rectangle with the country's initials in a circle. There's also a picture of the method of conveyance - train or ferry. Ironically, I have not entered the EU by plane.)

After Prague, I'll visit Dresden Germany for a couple of days, followed by Berlin, probably Munich as well. This part is still a bit fuzzy because of Easter...

I have booked four nights in Amsterdam at a hostel - the minimum required over Easter weekend. So I'll fly from somewhere to Amsterdam on 14 April, and leave on 18 April. I'm guessing I'll have a day trip or two... So if anyone wants Easter in Amsterdam, let me know...

From there, I think it's a flight to Barcelona, and then into France...

So I'm in Poland...

I'm wondering how long it will take before someone posts the first Polish joke.... But anyway. I'm in Krakow. There's an accent in there somewhere. I'll be here a few days before heading on to Prague.

I spent about three hours of my life in Vamosgyork, Hungary. I thought that it would be a major city, as the night train from Budapest to Krakow makes a stop there. I had the choice to spend three hours there, or I could spend three more hours on a train. I chose Vamosgyork..

It turns out that Vamosgyork is a small town. It is bigger than Olib, but not by much. Its main virtue is the fact that it's about a 10 minute drive from a large city, which itself is not on the rail system. Thus, a stop in the tiny town services the larger city. I surmised this information after finding an area map outside the train station, well after disembarking the train.

I did locate a map of the town on the reverse of the area map. The map key did have a fork and knife emblem. In practice, this translates into "small grocery store" instead of "restaurant." Lacking the ability to boil pasta, I came away with paprika flavored cheesy-poofs and some juice. Fear not, I did find a desert shop open, which provided me with some tasty goodness. I did note at least two bars were open, thus continuing the trend to drink with greater ease than eat in a small town.

Mom, don't read this; Dad, it's OK...

So Roxy put me in contact with Patrick, someone from Peoria who teaches English here in Budapest. We went to the opera last night, followed by a look at the expat scene. He explained something that had been bothering me for awhile...

My first night here, I was in an internet cafe, tapping away, when the internet connection stopped functioning. I brought this to the attention of the manager type, who spent the next five minutes telling me to wait, but not really looking at my computer, or doing much of anything other than talk to his friends. I start to pack up my stuff. He tries to explain that it's not his fault that the connection went down. It's not the connection I was bothered by, it was the five minutes of my life I don't get back.

Seeing that I was still perturbed, he said, "Fuck you!" followed by a string of Hungarian.

I repeated the expletive, and walked out without paying for the 10 minutes I did use.

Needless to say, this did not endear me to the city.

But last night, Patrick explained that cursing is an art form here. "Fuck you" isn't personal here. It's very commonly thrown around. The worst curse words translate into "God's cock," and you must be very careful in use of that one...

By now, you know why I told my mom not to read this. I'm certain she wouldn't appreciate my reflections on this subject...

Moving on...

So today, I'm taking a bus to Eger (EGG-air). It's the Napa Valley of Hungary. Their most famous red wine, Eger Bull's Blood (long story relating to a war with the Turks) is made there. Apparently, there is the Valley of the Beautiful Women. It's a horseshoe shaped road, full of wine cellars. It's a few minutes walk from city center. Also, everyone raves about the castle and the church there, so I'll investigate those too.

From there, I am taking an overnight train to Kracow. The German railroad maintains a database of all RR operations in Europe. It kindly alerted me that I would be passing through the same rail station twice - once from Eger to Budapest, and then from Budapest to Kracow. So I have elected to spend three hours in a small Hungarian town instead of on a train... I'll let you know how that goes...

I plan to spend four days in Kracow. There's the city, some salt mines, and Auschwitz to see. And I figure I'll need a bit of downtime after the last of that list. From there, I'll head to Prague for a few days, where I should pay a visit to the embassy. I'm running a bit low on space in my passport. Not as many border controls have been abolished in Europe as I thought. I'm hoping to score a few extra pages in the passport before heading to Germany...

So that's an in-depth account of my future movements to make up for the fact that I forgot to tell you that I was going to Hungary before doing so...

Oh yeah, I went to Budapest...

I took the train today to Budapest. I'm in Pest right now... Or is it Buda? I do note that the keyboard is yet again different, resulting in difficulties with punctuation.

I'll be here until at least Sunday. I want to take a trip to Eger. It's home to Hungarian wine; think Napa Valley and a horseshoe shaped road. I may come back to Budapest, if I haven't seen everything...

I'm skipping Slovakia, and heading straight to Kracow. I'll spend a few days there, seeing Auschwitz, and some salt mines, before moving on...

So I haven't forgotten how to drive...

So it's been five months since I've been behind the wheel, so I was a little nervous about driving in Slovenia. The traffic here is very tame compared to what I've seen, and far better than Italy. But there were a few sights difficult to see via public transport, so I wanted to rent a car and see them.

The Technological Museum of Slovenia was one of my stops. I know you're shocked. They have a collection of Tito's cars. They also had movies on how to make a horseshoe and a wooden wheel. And lots of large machines: saws, looms, electricity generators, that type of thing. I could tell that they were revamping the museum, as there were sections with English, and sections without.

I drove to Divača, near my next stop, to have lunch. It wandered into a pizza place that had been a stop on the Orient Express. The restaurant was designed to look like an old train station. They had a section of the rail line exposed under the floor. (I promise pictures soon.) I had quite tasty pizza, and after enquiring about the place, obtained a great map of the area from the waiter. The map proved key to finding my destination.

The Škocjan Caves were designated a World Heritage Site by the UN. There are other, more accessible caves, but this is the deepest/largest/and some other -ests I'm leaving off. The route wasn't well marked, or I was too paranoid about following the rules of the road. It turns out that there were only two of us on the tour, so the guide let us take pictures. The are normally not allowed, as people would just take too long to make it through. She probably regretted the decision, as we took a bit longer than a normal tour...

So I had wanted to head to the coast, but it was raining. A lot. So I and the other guy on the tour, Mike, headed to some small Slovenian town that was touted as, well, cute. I discovered Slovenian streets. Some are only wide enough for one vehicle. There's a sign with a red arrow, and an white arrow. Traffic in the red direction gives way. I assume. I was usually following a truck, which seemed to automatically have the right of way, so it was a rather moot point.

A couple of wrong turns later, we found Štanjel. It has aunusualal church spire, in that it's shaped like a bishop's hat. We wandered into the church, and the Priest was finishinconfirmationon class. He showed us around the church. He spoke German, and Mike gave me the general themes. As it was still pouring down rain, we didn't stay too long.

The drive back consisted of more small Slovenian towns, vineyards, and windsocks. There is strong wind that comes off the mountains, and they adjust the speed limit to compensate for it. More crosswind, the slower you must go. The only issue is that they never post the speed limit. They post the restricted speed, and the equivalent of the "End Speed Limit Zone" sign, but they never post the actual limit.

I did OK back behind the driver's wheel, even though there were several traffic signs that were incomprehensible. And my mind is still getting around the fact that it's 60 miles from the capital to the coast, and the capital is in the middle of the country.

Slovenia

I purchased my train ticket today, so I'm heading to Ljubjana tomorrow afternoon...

Some days...

Some days, you are the statue. Some days, you are the pigeon.

So I woke up in Zadar, and am now in Zagreb. Between the two is Plitvice National Park. It's up in the mountains between the two cities. It has some lakes, some waterfalls, trees, etc.

By all accounts, it is worth a visit, so I get off of the bus where they tell me to. Mistake. They let me off at entrance Two, instead of entrance One, 2.5 kilometers (1,5 miles) away. I walk to the entrance proper, and find it snowed in. I go to the bank across the street, and they can not tell me how to get into the park. I meet some people in the parking lot who inform me that I must go to the other entrance, but they think there's a bus in 30 minutes.

I have my pack and day bag, and some food. Probably about 40 pounds of stuff. We're in the mountains, so it's cold, there's snow on the ground, and it is lightly snowing. So I'm not in a hurry to take the walk. I wait, and have some lunch. I came prepared after my "little fish" incident. No bus 45 minutes later. Four had passed going in the opposite direction.

OK. My feet and hands are now cold . I know that if I just start walking, those will at least warm up.

The bus didn't pass me until I was 3/4 of the way there. I feel vindicated.

I finally arrive at the other entrance. Despite what Lonely Planet had indicated, there was no place that would hold my bag. After some prodding, the woman in the ticket office said that she would hold my bag until 2 PM, another 40 minutes. Deciding that timespan wouldn't be long enough to see anything but pavement and lots of snow, I elected to cut my losses and move on.

I walked to the bus stop. There is one for this entrance, so I did not have to repeat the 1.5 mile trek. Just as I get to the stop, a bus appears at the bend in the road. I think, "Wow. My luck is finally changing!" and wave it down.

As it flew by me, I realized that the vehicle contained Japanese tourists instead of being a harbinger of my good fortune.

Olib

I arrived on Olib, safe and sound, and was met by Pete's cousin, who took me to the family home. (I did get the requested photos; details provided offline.) I found the post office, and then made my way to Grobak, notes as bar/restaurant on the map of Olib provided by Pete.

It was far easier to get something to drink on the island than it was to get something to eat. The red wine was immediate. "I have a little fish, but I need bread" was the reply to my inquiry about food. No quicky mart/grocery store was open at lunch time. So his friend brought some bread. Little fish translated into sardines and shrimp, and some other small fish I can't identify.

And the red wine happiness wore off, I became aware of stomach pains. I guess my stomach doesn't like little fish. So I spent a couple of hours on a bed in Pete's house.

I did recover without incident. I plan to avoid seafood for quite some time. Then, I decided to go for a walk, as that would at least keep me warm. I met an Aussie, Lucy, who sends her regards to my readers who k now her. She's originally from Olib, but lived in Australia for 25 years before returning.

And I was pleased to note that I did have coverage for my mobile while I was there. Good thing, as a couple of you called...

All in all, the day ruled. It was great to get out and see island life. It's obvious that the place is far more happening in the on season. I will do my best to visit again when it's warmer...

Peter B, I owe you one...

So the one thing that Pete emphasized to me was to always say "Dober Dan" to anyone I meet, and say it first. As it translates as "Good afternoon" the thought was that I might not always be "correct" but at least I wouldn't be rude.

So I made my way to the ferry for Olib. I had been given the number of the jetty. I duly enquire, "Olib?" with the ticket taker, and I get a mumbled "Da" back. He takes the ticket, and I get on.

I take a look around, facinated by the ferry. I check out the life boat, the cargo, and then I meet a crew member. I smile and say, "Dober Dan!"

I promptly get a string of Croatian in replay. I have to grin and say, "Sorry, that's all I know."

He smiles, and explains that he asked me how I was. We go through the balance of the formalities in English, and then he asks me, "So, are you going to (Insert name of random Croatian island)?"

"No, I'm going to Olib."

"Oh. This is not the boat to Olib. Come."

He takes me under his wing, gets my ticket back from the ticket taker, as it is clearly marked "Olib," and he takes me to the correct boat.

All because I had the presence of mind to say "Good Afternoon" at 8:20 AM...

So here's what a couple of sneezes will get you...

So I'm here in the internet cafe, and I sneezed, twice. Each time, I said, "Excuse me." I've learned that you should do this, as you never know who's listening. Never assume the person next to you has different manners just because you're in a different country.

So the man next to me struck up a conversation, in part because he lived in Australia for awhile, and knew the custom, but knew it wasn't Croatian. We had quite the conversation.

All over Croatia, I had seen pictures of a man with the word "heroj" under him. This man was on the front page of the newspaper the man had. It turns out that this was the Croatian general during their war of independence. He's currently at The Hague on trial for war crimes. He signed a condolence letter for Milošević's family, thus creating a huge controversy at home. (Click the link for a quick geopolitical review.)

So we got into quite the conversation about the war. Turns out that the Serbs had cut communications links, but it was the Austrians who provided bandwith for images coming out of the internet from Croatia. The world saw what was happening, and, really, did nothing for awhile.

The economy of Croatia isdevastatedd, as all industry was destroyed. Homes were the first priority, and the industry has not really returned. From what I've seen, you can't tell there was a war here 15 years ago. The man told me that there were villages around here that are totally abandoned. The Serbs left, and Croats destroyed their homes in retaliation for killing family members.

It was afascinatingg conversation about the war. It was one that I had wanted to have, but hadn't really found someone to discuss it with. It's not popular at the information booths. And all because I minded my manners...

Olib

So I'm off to Olib tomorrow. I was told, "Oh- It's a local ferry, no problem" but we'll see.

I don't think that the mobile phone will work, so if you really need to find me, contact Pete, and he'll figure something out.

After a day on Olib, I'll return to Zadar, where I am now. I'll see Plitvice Lakes, a national park, on my way to Zagreb, the capital. I'll have a night there, and then I'm on to Slovenia. There are some caves to see, and... well, I don't quite remember, but it seemed like a good place. I'll visit Bled, a place that I hope is nicer than it sounds, if the weater is nice, ie, warmer than it has been.

I have a house!

So it's only mine for another day or so, but it's mine for now.

As I'm walking off of the ferry, I'm met by someone holding a "sobe/camera/room" sign. It turns out that it is a husband, wife, and daughter who have a small house that they let out. It's about $20 a night, but I have a kitchen area, right next to the bed.

There's also a B&W TV. I have seen Pancho Villa. The only issue was that the Spanish was subtitled into Croatian, so I missed about 10% of the movie. The Nanny is also on, as well as Family Matters, that show with Erkel.

Now you know where sitcoms go to die...

The arts...

So the arts in this part of the world are highly supported by the government. The guidebook for Split says that during the winter season, it is worth it to see a performance, just to see the hall they are performed in.

So I found the hall yesterday. And looking at the performance for the evening, I found "balet" to be the only word I could really make out. Tonight's performance was marked "koncert" followed by some names I recognized, like Bach. So I went in to purchase a ticket for both, and succeeded without too much difficulty.

It turns out that Labude Jezero is Swan Lake. (I did double check via a translation site.) I thought nothing of it when in the first scene, someone walked on stage with a swan. I had actually assumed it was a goose. It was only a couple of acts later when a couple of swans floated on the "lake" that I began to suspect what I watching. I didn't get a program, as it was in Croation only.

I really enjoyed the ballet. There is far more clapping than I am used to providing, but none the less, it was a good time.

Happy Birthday Mom!

So first things first. Today is my mom's birthday. I called bright and early, for her; it was almost noon for me.

So have a Happy Birthday!

Croatia, here I am...

I received flowers in Bari. It was La Fete de la femme. I don´t know what that is in Italian, as it was explained to me in French. Apparently, all women get flowers. I received several approving nods from people on the street and the cabbie upon display of the flowers...

So I made it to the ferry last night. It was all I had hoped and dreamed of. When I got on the main deck, one of the crew told me that I could go into the reclining chairs, or up one floor. I looked around, and went to the top floor. Behold, a couch was mine to claim. So I was gently rocked to sleep while sleeping on a couch. The seas were a bit rough around Bari, but calmed down sometime after I drifted off to sleep.

So Croatia is cold. And a bit windy. But beautiful. And wierd keyboards too. There is a castle here. I will go to the symphony tonight. I recommend the place.

I should mention that dogs seem to enjoy a special status in this part of the world. It was not uncommon to find them on the metro in Rome, and to see ¨canine parking˝ spots in front of places. In the current internet cafe, there is a floppy pup with a lead attached to the ownerś chair.

And lastly, I should mention that I picked up The Hitchhiker¨s Guide to the Galaxy. I have read it before, but it seemed like an appropriate choice for the trip...

I have finished The Communist Manifesto and have no idea how the document changed the world. A bit boring, long winded, and with that slimy propaganda feel.

I also read Common Sense by Thomas Paine. The text was instrumental in uniting the colonists against the British, and summarizing the need for war. It was fascinating to read, as it was evident how much this document has shaped our country. His take on government was that it should provide freedom of religion, and protect us from those that do us wrong. Other than that, it should leave us free to be. That attitude is more typical of an Amerian, versus a European, who usually expects government to provide health care, pensions, etc.

There is a lot of meandering in this post, but this is what you get...

Ferry ride at last...

The ferry ride is tonight! This adds to my methods of border crossing... Walking, train, flights, catameran, ferry. Still no unicycle for Ryan...

I'll be in Dubrovnik for a few days, hit Split, then Zadar. I'm going to Pete's island, Olib, for an overnight visit.

We'll see from there...

Internet cafe...

So I'm in an easyInternetCafe. It's an European chain of internet cafes. The really cool thing about it is that the access rates vary. You walk into the store, press a button, and it quotes you a rate depending on the number of people already using terminals in the store. In theory, it's as low as .50 euros. Lots of people mean you pay more.

You purchase a ticket from a vending machine, and it spits out a code on a piece of paper. You log in with this code, and you are given an amount of time calculated from the amount of money you put in, and the current rate for access. You can return at a later time, and your balance will be consumed at the rate that is then in effect.

The other cool thing is that the machine will restart itself after you logoff. Anything you've downloaded to the machine, and all of your viewing history is deleted.

Here in Italy, there is an anti-terrorism law that requires internet providers to keep track of exactly who is using each terminal. So the first time you get a slip from the machine, you must present ID to the worker. They make a photocopy of it, and then you get to surf. All of the little mom and pop places do this as well. I've not had this anywhere else...

Movements

So I'm leaving Rome tomorrow morning, heading to Matera. It's in southern Italy, near Bari. Until the mid-1900's, the area did not have running water nor electricity. They built houses in the caves. It's also the area where Mel Gibson shot The Last Temptation of Christ.

Wednesday afternoon, I'll take a train or bus to Bari. From there, I have an overnight ferry to Croatia, landing in Dubrovnik.

I think I can find internet in Matera. (Much modernized now.) If not, it will be a few days until you hear from me again...

Just when I thought it was smooth sailing...

I have arrived safely in Rome. This was no small feat. The airport security services in Greece were on strike yesterday. There were literally five people working one gate for all of Athens, domestic and international.

So I spent an hour in a crowd of Europeans (who don't all believe in a shower a day) moving our way through security. The area wasn't engineered to have that many people for that duration. It was hot. Air Quality suffered.

But don't worry, after India, my queuing skills are supurb.

But the experience did drive home one of my American cultural biases. I couldn't help cursing, "socialist county" while I was waiting. The right to strike is highly protected and respected. And there's something to be said for that.

But coming from America, this was odd. Just that now familiar feeling that it wouldn't happen like this at home. Lots of budding captialists would be quick to cross the picket and pick up the high wages. Or any group with such a strong impact on society would be fired for striking, àla the air traffic controllers in the early 1980's.

I think we've come to accept the pursuit of money as a goal on par with any other objective. If you can get a worker to accept lower wages and longer hours, more power to you. We don't have federally mandated vacation time. I've met several Europeans who wouldn't work for anyone offering less than six weeks of vacation time. But our situation is what we find acceptable, or else we wouldn't be taking part in it...

Europe...

Some meanderings...

So it's my last continent. (Did you hear my mom's sigh of relief?) I can see the end of my trip. It has me wondering what to do when I get back. Nothing definite, but I've got some ideas. I've ruled out the Peace Corps, as the air quality alone in developing nations really gave me a hard time. Perhaps a nice government job...

Europe feels so safe, so tame. It doesn't seem to hold the sense of adventure I've felt on the rest of the trip. I mean, there's no sense of accomplishment in getting from The Vatican to the train station. If Rick Steves can guide thousands of Americans through it, it's lost the feeling of a "victory." In so many places I've been, I've considered it a "victory" to get a meal.

At the same time, Europe isn't really as safe as most of the other countries I've been in. The guidebooks are full of "pickpockets operate here" notations. That's not been the case elsewhere. They list places to avoid at night, where other places have been of the "use the usual precautions, but you'll be fine" persuasion.

It's not all disappointing. I can walk down the street in Greece and not have anyone hawk their goods to me. That's really nice. I understand more of the "system" that makes Europe work. I can interact and understand the reactions. No one is going to try and get me involved in a "gem scam." I don't have to evade people coming up to me on the street, as no one approaches me. (I learned that people who do invariable do not have my best interests at heart.)

Maybe it's about the difference between real and perceived dangers. The East seems to be more adept at getting you to open up your wallet for them; Europe seems to open your wallet for you.

Dreams...

I had a lot of dreams last night. This is unusual, in that I remember most of them. They weren't nightmares, but it was more like being in a movie...

I remember that in one of them, I ran out of floss.

And the other one involved me catching a plane. I just had to get on the plane, but I stood there reading something, and just watched it take off.

Not earth shattering, but I'm regimented enough to not let either thing happen to me in my conscious life. I do a certain level of micromanagment of my life. I mean, do I really need to check how much shampoo is left? Can't I just wait until I get the last few drops exploding out of the bottle before I think about it?

I have learned to not be obsessive in certain situations. Generally, the stop I need for the train or bus is the same one everyone else needs. The stop will be obvious. I've learned to be patient with that type of thing, and only start to get concerned if I end up back at the same stop. (I believe it was Macau where I learned this.)

So perhaps all I can hope for is an incremental change in attitude. I will never be one of those "go with the flow" people, but I will always have floss to stitch my backpack when it rips (Turkey experience).