The real old city in action
The Vienna Syndrome is a malady that strikes folks who already live in a gorgeous old European city, a place that probably has a picturesque city center full of statues and stone. People who suffer from this ailment are fairly easy to identify. You will here them utter certain key phrases, whereby you will recognize them.
"Prague? Why should I go to Prague? I live in Vienna!"
"What? New York? Why bother, I live in Paris."
I will grant you that there are some similarities between some of these grand old cities. Unfortunately, many of the business folks in these historic places have figured out that a goodly portion of tourists love to shop. Not only do these tourists love to shop, but they love to shop at chain stores that they are very familiar with. Why take a risk in a local boutique when one can shop at Forever 21, regardless of the fact that one might be well over that age and not really fit enough for that sort of clothing. Thus is born the 'Shopping Street' disguised as history.
While there is all the material here for a full-scale rant, I promise to restrain myself. Let me just state the facts of the case. Wander through an old city center, a place of cobbles and cut stone so old that you feel like you are walking through time. It's wonderful. Okay, now you pass, say, the Vienna State Opera. "Wow, Baby, look at that beautiful old building. Amazing! Look at this square, these quaint guys trying to sell us tickets to the opera, and with Italian accents! This is so wonderful."
You are in the old stadt, the center of one of the most famous cities in Europe. And where are you heading? Kärntner Straße. You just entered Shopping Street. H&M, Swarovski, Forever 21, Mango, Hugo Boss, Benetton, the gauntlet is laid before you. It's looks like a shoppers paradise, but it is actually a cookie cutter copy of many other streets just like it, carefully crafted to fit into the old stone buildings.
Cartagena, Colombia. Bratislava, Slovakia. Vienna, Austria. What does these places have in common? An historic tourist center through which, somewhere, runs the Shopping Street, complete with the same stores. You can have a Starbucks coffee and a Big Mac while you shop. But you don't need to leave home to do that, do you?
Okay, okay, that was pretty close to a rant. Sorry. Yes, bad cookie cutter culture. Bad, bad dog! Why would I bother to point this out? Simply to urge you to venture farther afield. Leave Kärntner Straße behind and take the U-3 up to Neubaugasse and walk north. This is where the hip and cool Viennese folks shop. Trust me, Girlfriend, you want to find that oh-so-cool small boutique? This is your spot. With that motivation, My Heart and I ventured out into the farther reaches of Zagreb, riding the electric trams.
(Did you see that segue coming? Bet you didn't. Okay, yes, it was a crappy segue.)
Riding that train...
Like Vienna, the Zagreb street cars run the gamut from brand new to vintage 50's and 60's models, all running on the same tracks. The Zagreb lines are cheap, easy to navigate, and a great way to see the city. Consider it a poor man's Hop-On-Hop-Off bus. Four Kuna gets you thirty minutes of rail time and eight Kuna buys you ninety minutes, or $1.30-ish for a 90 minute ride. For me, one of the keys to getting acquainted with a new city is to master the public transport system.
After another great brekkie at Hotel Fala, we headed off to the bus station to buy our tickers for Zadar (another "Z" town!!). Our errands for the next travel day done, we looped south and west on the street cars, traveling to the south side of the Sava river. The plan was to do a street car loop and give our feet a bit of a break. That was the plan.
The weird seating layout on the Tram
South of the Sava river lies the Zagreb of Tito-era housing blocks, shopping centers, and small businesses. We spied a large open-air market tucked into a park and a very seedy looking carnival with amusement rides of debatable soundness. Along the Sava was the Zagreb Arena, where the city fathers hope to lure the Olympic Games in 2026. Nothing like planning ahead.
Our trusty little street car turned north off of Avenija Dubrovnik and re-crossed the Sava, where we disembarked for a stroll to Jarun Lake. It was supposed to be a stroll. Really.
Juna Lake is a mecca for bicyclists, walkers, skaters and rowers. We even saw a few paddle boards. Here's the thing: it is a really long lake with sneaky islands. Not only that, it's not a short walk from the street car stop. A few kilometers from the tram stop, after a pleasant stroll down the river, we get to the lake. Okay, easy enough, it's a sunny day at the lake, we just stroll around the lake. Nope. Strolling, strolling, more strolling, then I give the map a little closer look. We are walking on a long island that has no outlet. The only way off the island is back the way we came. So, the stroll becomes more like a hike, a very nice hike, but a hike nonetheless.
Fortunately, My Heart is way smarter than I am and had packed a lunch. While we are munching on the leftover kilo of meat from last night's meat extravaganza, I plotted a new route around the lake. What do we care? We have meat, we have bread, and we have water. Reinvigorated, we set out once more, this time in the right direction, and we discover what the Zagrebians (Zagrebites?) really do at the lake.
The Real Lake Pastime
Rounding yet another island, we finally "strolled" to the bustling heart of the Jarun Lake hangout. From where we stood, cafe' after cafe' lined the walkway along the very pretty artificial beach. And every cafe' was full of happy Croats doing, well, nothing. We decided it was high time we joined them. Let the rowers row, let the skaters skate! We will do as the Croats and simply observe whilst getting thoroughly loaded on cheap coffee. Sun, coffee, a biptillion people to look at, and a good cigar. I am here to tell you, Friends and Neighbors, travel don't get much better than this.
After a fine old time of sitting and doing nothing, we finally roused ourselves and moved on. With a bit of navigating, we found ourselves on the next tram line, this one giving us a tour of the western part of Zagreb and into the main square of Lower Town in the old city. Not content, we hopped a new street car and found ourselves whizzing uphill to the north, further and further, to the very edge of the city. Here the hills rise to the little mountains and ski slopes to the north of the city proper.
The end of the tram line was a quiet spot where the green of the hills rose above us and the very edge Upper Town was laid out below us. One of us, not the smart or pretty one, suggested that since it was obviously all downhill from here, we might stroll back to the city. The other of us, that would be the smart and pretty one, rolled her eyes. We set out on another stroll.
Upper Town really isn't all upper. Some of it is lower, then upper again, followed by more lower. It's kind of bumpy. As such, it is not "all downhill" strictly speaking. The smart and pretty half of the duo pointed this out as we bumbled along. We stopped at a hillside church, where a very nice priest tried to put us back on the easy path to town, but I wasn't having any of it. Dead reckoning in a strange town, that's my motto. So up and down the bumpy hills we trod, finding small streets and paths that led, once in awhile, in the right direction.
Upper Town beyond the tourist streets
It was actually a lovely hike, albeit a bit longer than our feet were happy with. We began to see some familiar streets and then signs for the tourist sights. A few more twists and turns and we passed through Upper Town and began the descent into Lower Town.
A street named for the last day of World War One, at least in Croatia
Eschewing another meat-fest on the pleading advice of my colon, we opted for huge leafy salads at a little joint south of the square. Night had come, but our walking was not done. Forty more minutes of "strolling" brought us, finally, to the welcoming door of Hotel Fala. No more pavement would our feet pound today. A fine day, a fun day, and a dog-tired evening well-earned.
Our day of exploration was done, but I have to add this disturbing epilogue:
Travel becomes a vivid history lesson
I took this photo because I thought the graffiti was cool. After looking up Vukovar, I now think that grim is a much more apt descriptor. Vukovar is a smaller city in the far eastern portion of Croatia. During the Yugoslav wars of the 1990's, specifically the Croatian War of Independence, this town was the site of a terrible massacre. During fighting between the Serbs and Croats, the Serb forces captured the town. Despite negotiations to evacuate some 300 people from the local hospital, these folks were instead turned over to Serb paramilitary groups. Most of these people were executed and buried in several mass graves. To date, about 200 sets of remains have been recovered, while approximately 60 people remain unaccounted for and are presumed dead. Thus did I discover one of the dark chapters in the history of this land.
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