Plitvice Lake

My favorite part is always the conversations – with animators, with artists, with war survivors, with people who are nostalgic about Yugoslavia / Communism / Tito times, with those passionate about their crafts and passionate about life, who grew up in environments different, yet not so different from mine, who gasp at my norms (no chewing gum?!) and challenge the notions of my own. And getting more questions, and obtaining answers to questions I didn’t know I had.

so serene

It’s a little different, you know, trudging through a plain of white in solitude
it’s probably one of the most calmi

frozen in time

 Understanding nature and lakes a little better

Zagreb, Croatia

Ah, the lasts. I have to admit I’m trying to clear these posts. I didn’t draft anything in particular for Zagreb.
I don’t really like it. When I feel like I wrote nothing, I feel like I took nothing away.








Spending time in the museum was interesting. Also, Zagreb was prettier than I envisioned.

Dubrovnik, Croatia


Dubrovnik was nice, but it was rather touristy.













Being the only tourist (azn) around makes the environment more foreign, amplifying my sense of wonderment. There’s just a greater sense of exploration perhaps, being alone to curiously poke my nose and quietly observe the country’s affairs. Away from familiarity, away from my home-grown surroundings. Along the Romania, Bulgaria, Macedonia/Kosovo/Albania stretches I did not meet much tourists (much less azn tourists) (possibly because I mostly couchsurfed) so Dubrovnik, beautiful and touristy as it was, did make me feel like hmm, let me go further, further, away. Of course there’s a part of me that says, why make this distinction? but it is reasonable to say that the crux of it is familiarity
I learnt to stop planning for accommodation since Grad Trip, and to search for hostels when I reach particular destinations instead (keeping in mind a couple of options / addresses though)
So when I arrived in Dubrovnik, thinking I could get a room, I was greeted with the fact that it was winter, so many hostels were not open for the season. The ones that were, were full. Did not CS because only strange dodgy male hosts offered a place.
I had no room, but a huge backpack to carry.
That was rather dampening but I went up the stairs and everywhere anyway. Then I hopped the late night bus, finished reading Rebeca by Daphne du Maurier, and left.
So I guess these would suggest why I don’t feel a special attachment towards Dubrovnik compared to the other places.