On 22 September 2012, I was up at 4:00AM, quickly threw my stuff and myself together, ran up four flights to return my room key to the hostel manager, then down six flights and across deserted Karađorđeva Boulevard to the Belgrade train station in plenty of time for the 5:13 to Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. I had a reservation for the night at a small hotel in Zagreb and wanted to get to the city as early as possible in order to see some of the sites.
The 400km (250 mile) trip took more than seven hours (by car it would take less than four). Despite travelling miles of straight track which felt rather smooth, the train crept along most of the way at no more than about 60kph (37 mph). Plus, the Serbian and Croatian immigration officials took their sweet time with passports at the border crossing which also necessitated a change of electric locomotives from the respective countries. I reminded myself that I was still not in Western Europe, land of high-speed trains. Still I watched the sunrise from the back of the west-bound train and enjoyed the forested hills and farmland along the way.
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Top: Sunrise near the Serbia-Croatia border.
Bottom: Rural village east of Zagreb. |
Upon my arrival, I got a day’s worth of Croatian Kuna from an ATM and a one-day pass for the trams. Right in front of the station was a tram stop and a modern trolley car dropped me off one block from Villa Zrina, my moderately-priced accommodation for the night. After lunch in a local café, I took the tram into the old city center and walked to Gornji Grad (Upper Town), a complex of colorful 17th Century buildings on a hilltop overlooking the newer sections of the city. After an afternoon of intense shutter-bugging and a good pasta dinner, I turned in early. I was very impressed with this delightful city of 800,000.
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| Zagreb sites.Left:Art Pavilion and statue.Right: Church of St. Mary. |
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| Church of St. Mark with its colorful tile roof in Zagreb’s 17th Century Upper Town. |
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| Strolling entertainers in period costumes, Upper Town. |
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| Even Zagreb’s train station is an architectural beauty! |
The next leg of my trip took me to Ljubljana (pronounced lyoo-BLYAH-nah – yeah, I can’t pronounce it right either), the capital of Slovenia which is the only former Yugoslavian republic to have been admitted to membership in the EU so far. The train left at 0650 for the 3 hour 20 minute, 140 km (87 mile) ride. Again very slow, but the scenery became quite interesting after we crossed the Slovenian border and verdant mountains rose on either side of rail line’s winding route along the Sava River gorge.
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| Sava River gorge east of Ljubljana, Slovenia. |
Once in Ljubljana, I stashed my bags in a locker at the train station, got some Euros from an ATM (Slovenia is on the Euro), and walked about ½ mile south to the old town. The city Ljubljana is smaller (280,000) than Zagreb, and I found it less impressive. Nevertheless, its narrow streets lined with 17th and 18th Century homes, churches, and shop buildings make for a charming atmosphere. During my five hours there, I walked up to the 15th Century Ljubljana Castle (modernized in the 19th Century) where I enjoyed views of the city and its mountainous surroundings.
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| Old Town, Ljubljana |
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Left: View north of downtown Ljubljana from the castle. Right: Ljubljanica River with the Franciscan Church of the Assumption in the left background.
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| Ljubljana Castle |
My next destination was Venice, Italy but there was no direct train. Thus, I followed a complicated route which was recommended on-line by some English guys who had travelled by train across southern Europe. First, I took an afternoon train south to Sezana, a Slovenian town near the Italian border. Fortunately, there was a taxi waiting outside the Sezana station which took me across the border to Villa Opicina, a small town in the mountains above the Adriatic Sea port of Trieste. The historic tram from Villa Opicina down to Trieste was unfortunately out of service for repairs but alternative bus service was provided which dropped me five blocks from the Hotel Alabarda where I had reserved a small room with bath down the hall. Trieste (population 200,000) has some interesting architecture dating back several centuries. Fortunately, I felt no compelling need to linger there as I had a ticket on the 6:41 morning train to Venice.
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No, this is not Venice yet: Grand Canal in Trieste, Italy.
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The 2 hour 20 minute train ride zoomed along the Adriatic coastal plain and crossed the Laguna Veneta on a causeway to the island/canal city of Venice. From the Santa Lucia Station at the north end of Venice, I had less than a ten minute walk to the Hotel Guerrini where my tiny room cost 70 Euro (about US$90) which is cheap in one of the world’s most popular urban tourist attractions. Of course, people come to Venice for its canals, architecture, museums, and romantic charm but what makes the city truly unique is its total absence of autos, trucks, and buses. You want a sofa delivered to your Venetian home? It will come on a boat by canal and be carried by a couple of strong fellows for the rest of the way.
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| It wouldn’t be Venice without at least one gondola photo, right? |
I bought a day pass for the vaporettos (water busses) which ply the Grand Canal. After a couple stops along the way, I made it to the famous Piazza San Marco (St. Mark’s Square) with camera at the ready along with hundreds of other “turisti”. Unfortunately, I had to pee bad. I found a public bathroom. The charge was €1.50 (about US$2) to use the toilet. I was bloody outraged and started looking for a back alley. Then I calmed down, walked into a restaurant like I knew where I was going, found the jon, and walked out without making eye contact with the maître-d’hôtel.
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Basilica of St. Mark. You could spend all day photographing the intricacies of this Byzantine cathedral. I didn’t go inside – the queue was waaaaaay too long!
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Rejoining the throngs at St. Mark’s Square, I shot up a bunch of camera memory, then walked to the Fenice, Venice’s famous opera house which burned in 1996 and has since been rebuilt. I’m not an opera buff but I’d read that the restored 18th Century-style interior was amazing. It was! I paid extra for a pass to take photos inside and found the experience well worth the Euros expended.
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| Detail from the Fenice interior. Excuse me for being trite but…Wow! |
The tourists in Venice tend to crowd around the most famous sites but leave much of the city alone. It’s a city walker’s paradise. Sidewalks and narrow streets go everywhere, even along some of the small canals which branch out from the Grand Canal. So I wandered and wandered but by late afternoon the clouds became ominously dark. As I reached the Rialto, the most elegant bridge crossing the Grand Canal, the skies opened and it rained hard for a good half hour. In fact, it rained so much that the water level in the canals rose. Water started creeping out on to sidewalks near the Grand Canal and reached the base of doors in some buildings next to the canals. To me it was an ominous warning of how the gradual rise in sea level may eventually destroy this beautiful city. Once again, it was early to bed for me as I had to be up early to travel all the way across northern Italy the following day.
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One big rainstorm started to cause flooding in Venice. Imagine what climate change will do to the city!
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Following the storm, I was rewarded with a rainbow over the Grand Canal.
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| Venetian homes along the Grand Canal glow in the warm, post-storm sunlight. |
The following morning at 6:58 on the dot, the Freccia Bianca (White Arrow) left Venice and deposited me in Milan 2½ hours and 270km (167 miles) later. I had booked my ticket in advance on line and it cost me only €19 (about US$24) for a seat in second class. The train made several quick stops along the way (Padua, Verona, Brescia, etc.) and in between we were probably hitting 100mph as the landscape was whizzing by.
I had planned a 1½ hour layover in Milan giving me time for a short walk in Italy’s commercial/industrial “capital”. Outside the Milano Centrale station, I peered down the wide, office-building-lined boulevard, Via Vittor Pisani. I didn’t get much of a feel for the city’s character and wondered what it had looked like to my great-grandparents when they left there for Boston some 120 years ago.
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Top:Via Vittor Pisani, Milan.
Bottom: Stony beach at Ventimiglia, the last stop before France.
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No time for much fanaticizing about family history or trying to find distant cousins. I grabbed a quick lunch and was back on the next train which took me almost to the French border by way of Genoa on the Mediterranean coast. The four-hour trip covered about the same distance as the high-speed train from Venice to Milan. It took considerably longer as it snaked through mountainous terrain both north of Genoa, then along the Italian Riviera. By now you should know that I wouldn’t spend the night in some opulent Italian Riviera resort for the glitterati like San Remo. No, I opted for Ventimiglia, the last stop on the rail line before France. One has to change trains there anyway and lodging is relatively cheap perhaps because the beach isn’t all that nice. My suite at Affittacamere Le Logge was only €50 (US$63) and even included a kitchen and generous breakfast served by the friendly manager.
Coming next: My race across southern Europe continues with stops in Monaco, Toulouse, a French sheep farm, Barcelona, and Madrid before reaching Granada, Spain on September 30.
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