school's out for summer

Junior year is officially over, so I guess that means I'm a senior...but we won't talk about that.


We spent the last week in Dubrovnink, a UNESCO world heritage site, in an adorable little apartment with a jasmine-covered porch, a dog named Bepo/Max/Bow Wow (we weren't really sure) and a very leaky sink problem (the solution to which, per request of the owner, was to layer 6 towels on the floor every morning). Dubrovnik was great. There are cafes, castles, walls, beaches, and, most importantly, great rocks for jumping off of. After venturing down to a beach past the Old Town on day 2, jumping in to the crystal clear Adriatic, swimming to a hotel I'm pretty sure we weren't supposed to end up at, meeting some friendly British tourists who had the same idea, swimming even further, climbing a whole bunch of rocks. and coming back to lay in the sun (and try and rid myself of the horrendous shorts tan I have from Split), we made it a point to take the ferry over to the neighboring island of Lopud the next day for more beach. And then it rained. For 4 days.

I'll be honest, Dubrovnik is great, but there really isn't a ton to do when it rains in a town that gains its reputation for being one of the top ten best beaches in the world. But we made the best, I suppose. After many a quest to find cevapcici (Croatian meat dish-sauce, beef, pita, onion, greatness) to no avail, we found it at the grocery store and Chip, a seasoned cevapi vet, played chef to give the rest of us our first taste. After one too many movies and venturing out to brave the elements to stave off a terrible case of cabin fever, we left Dubrovnik, all 5 of us (one back to the states, one to Paris, and the rest of us to Montenegro), and it was off to Kotor for a grand total of $15. After stopping at border control, having our passports taken, driving for 10 minutes before getting them back, and seeing a sign that said "welcome to the Ukraine," I'll admit we were a little worried, but 2.5 hours later we pulled into the autobuska standnica in Kotor.

Kotor is a little port-side town in Montenegro, surrounded by mountains that runs along the inlet port right outside the city walls. As a friend quite aptly put it, many Balkans cities, or at least the ones we've seen, are a chain of a bunch of towns characterized by adorable little fortresses. I guess "little" is an understatement considering the fortress walls of Kotor stretch more than halfway up a mountain side, and the mote surrounding them at the bottom has waters more raging than a class 5 rapid. But that's not the point. One of the most remarkable things about these city walls is the difference between inside and outside. Here, it's like night and day. One minute you feel like you're in the projects, and the next, you're in 7th century paradise. I'm sure much of this in Dubrovnik was attributable to the tourism that ran rampant in Dubrovnik, but little old Kotor seems somehow more authentic. Just outside the walls is a daily market, mostly run and funded by locals, selling everything from fruits and vegetables to jewelry and cowboy hats (I kid you not). But venture inside and find a multitude of cafes (there is a SERIOUS obsession here with "cafe bars," sprawling establishments along squares and sidewalks that sell nothing but drinks where it's not unusual for people to sit for 3 hours and just stare. I'm not complaining, but we have asked ourselves more than once if people actually work here and if so, how can I get one of their jobs...There's a huge population of cats (and even a few dogs...which pleases me because dogs are obviously superior) that contribute to the nightly soundtrack outside our window of meowing and church bells (on the hour, every hour, all hours), that is heightened in the mornings around 7 am with the walking and talking of tourist groups and, yesterday, the drum and song celebration of the Montenegrin water polo team.

Most of these little cities are best seen by wandering aimlessly among the streets and alleys, stopping for a coffee (yesterday we discovered iced coffee-cold coffee with a scoop of vanilla gelato and a heap of whipped cream, topped with chocolate syrup) or stumbling into an old church. Churches here are certainly plentiful. Most of them are Orthodox, with ornate gold and woodwork (and priests who offer to take your picture in front of the altar?? ...) and we went in one yesterday that was built in 809 and only slightly restored once. The 1 isn't missing from the date.

After checking into our hostel and dragging our 60 pound suitcases (travelling with enough luggage to last me since January, terrible idea. Europe doesn't have elevators. Ever.) back down the flight of stairs and up another at our room down the street, we settled into our surprisingly nice room, glad to get away from the other hostel guests who, as we've discovered, spend their days in the reception area eating pizza, drinking beer, giggling to Arrested Development and playing "never have I ever" (Whilst sitting on the floor in the hallway trying to steal the free wifi, angry that we were put down the street sans wifi because they lost the reservation, we ACTUALLY heard someone ask for a clarification on a question that went something like "well, I've never slept with two GIRLS at the same time, if that's what you mean." I'm being dead serious. It was then that we counted the lost booking as a blessing in disguise, as we now have an 8 person dorm entirely to ourselves.)

Today, it's off to scale the mountain side to climb to the top of the fortress, but that's only after we sit at an outdoor cafe to enjoy a leisurely breakfast of tea, bread, coffee, and omelets (a meal that yesterday totalled 10 euros for 3 of us). And on that note, I'm really hungry. More to come when we get to Mostar tomorrow.