My next
weekend excursion was to the historic town of Samobor. This medieval town is known for its 700 year
old castle ruins, charming city center, old churches and let’s not forget…
kremsnite.
Samobor is
located just outside of Zagreb, nestled in the Samobor hills and very close to
the Slovenian border. This time I took a bus from Bjelovar which offered a very
urban experience instead of countryside views.
It was a different perspective but equally as interesting.
It seems I can’t go anywhere without some kind
of mishap, though. This trip was no
exception. Once I was at the bus station I tried to load onto the bus carrying
some things in my arms. I misjudged the space between the curb and the
first step of the bus. I missed the step
completely. After splatting onto the
pavement I looked up and saw passengers on their feet rushing towards me with
horrified looks on their faces. My face was hot and flushed, every
nail broken and my arms were surely going to be bruised from whatever I hit
going down. I took my seat wishing I
could disappear. Hopefully most of
these people would get off at the next stop and a new crop of passengers would
board and I could try again at impressing Croatians with my grace.
When I
arrived at the bus station in Zagreb I still needed to buy my ticket to
Samobor. The ticket office was
upstairs. So I had to climb a good
distance of stairs with my heavy luggage. I kept thinking…there must be an
elevator. But if there is one it is kept
well hidden. What do the elderly or
disabled do? I was able to buy my ticket one way but for whatever reason she
wouldn’t let me buy my return ticket.
That always makes me uncomfortable to know I will be out of town without
a guarantee of getting back. But my need
to find a restroom before we left was more pressing. I spotted the WC sign but when I got there I
was blocked from entering by a friendly attendant who takes 3 Kunas for the privilege.
Afterwards, I
ran to the waiting area to find my peron (platform). I spotted Number 301 and
at that point realized I had to go down stairs again, lugging my things. Seriously…what would my father do who walks
with a cane? I have learned when you
think you have found your bus (or train) it’s a good idea to ask the driver and
double check the destination. There was
a sign in the window that said Samobor but it also said Dubrovnik which is
hours away on the coast. When I asked
the driver who didn’t speak much English he got mad at me as if I
couldn’t read the sign. I wanted to
tell that guy “You should be nice to me or I’ll put you in my book.”
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St. Anastaija Cathedral |
The bus ride
didn’t take long and the landscape went from urban to hillside views almost
instantly. As we got close to the town I
had a great view of Samobor tucked into the hills with Saint Anastazjia Cathedral
as the focal point. It looked like a
postcard. When the bus emptied us at the
station I was a little disappointed to see we were not closer to the town
center. It was noon and the sun was
beating down on me. I went in to the station
office and asked about shuttles to the center and was told I would have to call
a cab. No cabs wait there for
passengers. I’m thinking this is a
missed opportunity. I was given the
phone number to call a cab and decided it was too much trouble. So I walked.
I turned the data service on my IPhone (for the very first time since in
Croatia) and pulled up Google Maps so I could find my way. I should have done this back at my apartment
where I have internet and saved whatever fee AT&T felt they should charge
me. I kept the data service on all the way
to the hotel. This turned out to be a big
mistake.
When Hotel Livadić came into view I couldn’t stop
smiling. Built in 1800, this historic
hotel is right smack in the middle of the town center. When I entered the gorgeous lobby I was greeted by a
very friendly and helpful hotel clerk. She grabbed my bag and carried it up to my
room. Good thing…because again, no
elevator. My room was fantastic. In keeping with the history of the building,
the décor was vintage and very cool. There was a big fluffy double bed (I only
paid for a single but there weren’t any available). The bathroom was as big as
the bedroom and everything was shiny and fresh.
I collapsed on the bed still nursing my headache from my fall right as my
phone dinged notifying me of a text.
Text?? Data should be turned off on my phone. Oh no, I forgot. It
was AT@T notifying me of this message: "Our records indicate that you have
exceeded $300 in international charges and either do not have an international
data package or are using data in a country not included in your international
data package.” Oy vey.
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Hotel Livadić |
After a short
rest, I grabbed my camera and spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the
town. Samobor is famous for the
traditional dessert, kremsnite. It’s
similar to pie with a crust, custard filling and powdered sugar topping. The
town center is basically one street lined with coffee shops serving tourists
coffee and/or beer and kremsnite. On the
edge of the center is a creek that travels down from the hills through a
beautiful park. This park is where the
locals hang out to play with their kids, ride their bikes or sit and
visit. With all of the spring foliage
just beginning to bloom it was a beautiful backdrop for my photos.
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I love this picture of the grandpas with their grandsons walking through the park.
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That evening
I camped out a table at one of the outdoor cafes and hoped to inconspicuously
capture some photos of whatever interesting behavior came my way. The first
thing that happened was I became instant friends with the café owner,
Maya. Dressed in traditional costume,
(which she made herself) she was a bubbly and fascinating person. I doubt she has ever met a stranger. She convinced me into a piece of kremsnite which
when served turned out to be the size of
my face. I thought to myself, I will
never eat all of this. Of course I
did. We spent quite a bit of time
talking about this and that. She and her
husband own multiple businesses in the town center. How I love the entrepreneurial spirit! She
asked me if Americans knew where Croatia was. I told her I was working on it!
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Café owner Maya |
A little
later I started to hear singing and accordion music playing. I looked up and a wedding party was walking
by, complete with bride, groom and attendants all in full dress. Apparently, a week before the actual wedding,
the party parades into town to the city hall to sign for the marriage
license. I guess they don’t have that
superstition about the groom seeing the wedding dress ahead of time. One of
the attendants is proudly waving the Croatian flag. I can't recall every having seen a groomsmen waving the Star Spangled Banner at a wedding back home. As the
night went on I got to see 2 more of these same kinds of parades through
town. Samobor must be the destination for weddings.
Then a parade
of cars came through decorated and honking their horns and waving the national
flag out the window. It stopped right in
front of the cathedral. I looked at Maya
and she said, "I think that is a real wedding”.
So I packed up my stuff, said my goodbyes to my new friend and headed to
the cathedral. When I walked up the
steps, the bride and groom were just beginning to walk down the aisle. Lucky for me, the Cathedral doors were kept
open. The lights in the church reflected off the
gilded alter creating an amber effect on the entire setting. It was absolutely stunning. I kept tucked away as inconspicuously as I
could snapping pictures. After the
ceremony I went out onto the steps and was hoping to snap a photo of the bride
and groom exiting. Apparently, in
Croatia the entire congregation rushes the happy couple in a sort of haphazard
receiving line inside the church. I was
standing there trying to decide what to do next when I was approached by the priest. Oh, I am so busted. He greeted me in Croatian and I fessed up
that I was an American. He was able to
speak some English to me so I told him what I was doing. We exchanged business cards and before I knew
it I was agreeing to attend 8am Mass the next morning.
When I woke
up the next morning I hurried to the hotel dining room for complimentary breakfast. My expectations are never very high when
something is “included”. I was sure
wrong. It was a very elegant dining room
looking out onto a peaceful courtyard.
Every kind of coffee, tea, juice, fresh rolls, spreads, and fruit was
available. Then the chef comes out and asks
me if I would like ham and eggs, omlettes, bacon…? I stopped her in mid
sentence and asked for the ham and eggs.
It was all perfect and delicious.
I thought to myself if I drank enough coffee I wouldn’t have to spend
any more money at the cafes that day. Right.
I scrambled
off to church and made it just in time. I was too late for a seat but that was fine
with me considering I wasn’t sure what to expect. As it turns out, Croatian Mass is EXACTLY the
same as in America. I should’ve remembered
this from when I attended Mass at the Vatican a few years ago. Eventually, I was actually saying the English
words in my head in time to their Croatian words. It was hard to not rubber neck the whole time, though, absorbing the architectural details inside of the church. Built in the 1600’s, there is amazing stained
glass throughout. There are 3 side
chapels on each side framed with tall pillars that support the high
belfry. I stared at the elaborate gilded alter trying to identify each of the icons. The entire experience was quite profound
for me and I sat there with tears in my eyes at one point.
One
unfortunate thing I noticed was how an
overwhelming number of the parishioners were elderly. I could count the people my age or younger on
2 hands. I hoped this was due to the
early time of the Mass and maybe the younger crowd attended later. When it was over I stuck around hoping to
get some photos of the interior of the church before the next crowd of
parishioners came in. But as one crowd
was exiting the next crowd was entering.
I really was hoping to get a chance to say hi to Fr. Stuljan so he knew I
actually had come. When he passed me he
stopped and turned to look at me. I thought he was going to say
hi and thanks for coming. Instead he
said, “That’s it. It’s over”. I silently giggled to myself. He thinks I don’t know how Mass works and I
am waiting for Act II. I told him how
beautiful the choir was and he responded with, “Yes, but we need more young
members.” I smiled and to myself said,
“indeed”.
The last thing I wanted to do before my trip was over was hike up the hill to the Samobor Castle Ruins. At the base of the hill sat a very old church, St. Michael’s Chapel, built in the 1500’s. The front door was locked but the caretaker let me in. She gave me a private tour which was much more than I could have asked for. She spoke no English but I was able to understand “originalan” as she pointed to the alter and some other relics. She led me up the stairs to the belfry, out back to a private room and pointed out all of the items of historical significance She clearly was proud of this chapel whose care she was in charge. Finally, she took me out back and pointed to the trail that goes up the hill to the ruins. I thanked her, put some money in the donation basket and off I went.
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View from the top of the hill. |
I understand
that it’s officially called a hill but as I was climbing (in my church clothes)
it sure felt like a mountain to me. I
finally got to the top and it was so worth it.
I guess it was still early because I was totally alone which made it a
bit creepy. But it was made better by the fact that I was standing in the middle of something that was built 700
years ago. A fortress meant to keep out would be medieval invaders. I really wanted a picture of myself with the
ruins in the background. Since I was by myself, I found a good
place to balance my camera on a rock then placed a stick under it to
prop it up, set the timer and then ran and posed "naturally". LOL. Just a few inches from where I am standing was
a sheer drop! I kept thinking I heard
noises in the bushes like some kind of critter movement so I decided it was
time to move on.
I made it back to Bjelovar by the afternoon...issue free.