bumpy bus rides to far off places

I’m jolted awake as the bus hits a bump in the windy mountain road. My eyes take a moment to adjust, and I’m pleasantly surprised that we’ve escaped the snowcapped, ragged cliffs and full forests of frozen Sarajevo. The sun shines brightly outside my window, bringing a sparkle to the copper saturated, bright green rivers that meander through the region’s towering Dinaric Alps. 

The bus is heating up in the sun, and I’m sleepy enough that the bus seat feels analogous to my bed — both a bit stiff, a few lumps here and there, but overall welcoming after a long stint of adventure. 

And wow, what an adventure this weekend was.

We set off for Mostar early Saturday morning, packs full of clothes, snacks and knickknacks on our backs down the endless stairs to the bus stop. Full of excitement, we chatted through the twisting Adriatic coast, through three border check points, off the bus and through the rain to Mostar’s Stari Most (old bridge), built by the Ottomans in the 16th century. After a guided tour through Mostar’s cobble stone streets, we hopped back in the bus towards Blagaj, a smaller town about twenty minutes from Mostar. 

In Blagaj, we explored a natural spring erupting from the depths of a cave, set deep in the shadow of a towering mountain face. Ditching our mucky shoes and donning headscarves, my travel companions and I walked through the ancient mosque that sits atop the spring, marveling at the bright carpeted floors, stained glass ceilings, and whitewashed walls. 

From Blagaj, eight of us hired a private driver to take us through the snowstormy mountains to Sarajevo. Our airbnb host welcomed us into our penthouse suite with glasses of homemade rakija, the local liquor (a type of fruit brandy, in this case, pear). Truly located in the center of Sarajevo, our apartment was just down the street from the Eternal Flame, a memorial of the recent wars, and a ten minute walk from the old Ottoman village that forms the heart of the city. 

 

We spent Sunday tasting sticky sweet baklava, learning to properly pour teacups of bitter Turkish coffee, overindulging on bright tapestries and shiny copper treasures, and picking up souvenirs for our loved ones back home. 

And now, here I am, spending my Monday on this bus, writing to you.

love from somewhere near the Bosnian-Herzegovinian & Croatian border,

shonabell

sunglasses & wishing wells

Stradun is blinding today. The marble main street and gleaming castle walls intensify the sunshine, making sunglasses a staple of every old town walk. I’m perched on the ground outside of Sponza Palace, lounging against one of the pillars and watching locals and tourists pass by. Julia and I grabbed lunch from the bakery a little ways down the street and are munching our way through prosciutto & cheese baguettes. There’s still a chill in the air, especially within the city walls, so our spot in the sun couldn’t be a more perfect place to spend the lunch hour between classes. 

entrance to the monastery/university

Our university, Libertas Dubrovnik International University, is located just around the corner from Stradun, the main street, in an old Dominican monastery (which we still share with the monks who live there today). Classes themselves take place in the third floor of the monastery, where diplomats to the Republic of Dubrovnik (otherwise known as Ragusa) used to stay when conducting official state business. Not a bad place to be studying diplomacy and international relations. Oh, and did I mention the gorgeous courtyard that our school shares with the monks, visible from our classroom windows and the best spot for quiet study on a sunny day? There’s even an old well, perfect for making wishes before tough midterms and final exams. 

our shared courtyard (and well)

monastery bell tower

Classes at Libertas run in slightly haphazard schedules, often on the whim/demanding schedule of the professors, most of whom travel from abroad for a few weeks at a time to lead us through the material. Right now, for example, I’m about to finish the second week of my International Peace & Security course, taught by a professor from Zagreb. We’ll take a midterm early next week, then have two weeks off until a different professor, with slightly different expertise, comes to finish the Peace and Security curriculum. In the meantime, I’m taking the Rise and Fall of Yugoslavia, and the Art of Diplomacy, both with an amazing teacher who, rumor has it, was a diplomat for Montenegro a few years ago. Later in the semester, Negotiations & Conflict Resolution and Current Issues in International Affairs will begin, one of which is taught by a former Scottish prime minister. 

en route to class

Speaking of classes, I should get back to studying the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations for my quiz tomorrow.

love from dubrovnik,

shonabell

its raining cats and dogs

After less than a full night’s sleep, I’m sitting crosslegged on my matchstick box bed as my roommate struggles to find a place between asleep and awake. Jasmine green tea steams from a yellow mug on the already cluttered bedside table, and I’m peering out the window to see what the weather has in store for us today (google says sunny with a chance of rain). 

My calves and thighs ache from multiple journeys up and down the 200+ steps that connect our apartment to old town, but the daily workout is well worth the panoramic view of old town and the sea from our balconies, windows, and rooftop terrace. 

I can hear the boys next door drinking coffee on their porch, and the bells from one of the old town churches mean it’s time to get up. Let the fight for hot shower water begin…

I’ll pull myself back out of bed in a few minutes, flip on the kettle again and put some bread in the panini grill that takes hours to toast. So far, breakfasts have consisted of avocado toast, green tea, and oranges that are half the size of my head. All while overlooking the red rooftops of old city, of course.

Old city is easy to fall in love with. Empty of the summertime tourists, Dubrovnik’s marble streets glisten white in the sunshine, and are a slippery death traps on rainy days. I'm happy to report that haven’t fallen yet (knocks on wood), thank goodness for practical shoes. I don’t know how the locals survive in their sky high heels, but somehow they manage look perfectly composed rain or shine.

We’ll walk the city walls today, and I’m expecting to see as many local cats and dogs as old rooftops and waves against the shore. Pets are, apparently, uncommon in Dubrovnik, and the city instead is home to hundreds (thousands?) of animals who, fed and loved by locals, run the place like kings and queens. Plus, the cat that rules our closest flight of steps doesn’t laugh when I attempt to practice my beginner’s Croatian, so she’s currently my favorite local.

Time to join the rest of the world — doviđenja (goodbye for now)

love from dubrovnik

shonabell