We all flew from Split to Venice.

People whinge endlessly about Venice being too touristy and crowded. But they are wrong. It is those things, sometimes – but – it is easily the most beautiful, romantic city in the world. It is unspoiled, uncontaminated beauty. There’s no Starbucks or billboards or traffic or 80’s-90’s architecture. They have the most beautiful churches and architecture in the world. Gondolas. Bridges. The colors. It is 100% unique. What other city can you say that about?

The light is hazy and pastel. Every direction you look makes you sigh. No matter how well you think you might know it – or how convinced you are you know where you’re going – it is a maze of tiny alleys and bridges, all opening onto exquisite piazzas and squares you’ve never, ever seen before – even though you’d swear you walked this way 10 minutes ago.

The apartment we stayed in should really have its own blog post. An old lady called Luna rents it out. And it looks like she just walked out the door that morning. Or is maybe hiding in one of the many secret rooms or cupboards. (Both children slept with lights on because its undeniably haunted). The place was renovated in 1904, probably by her grandparents and nothings been touched since then. The building itself is maybe 500 years old … amazing parquet floors, giant wooden carved gorgeous furniture, stained glass, balconies, yellow silk upholstered suites, faded wallpaper, family portraits. Gothic. Fascinating. Slightly spooky.

The food in Venice (and all of Italy) is always amazing. You’re working very hard to find a shitty meal. Even in Venice – which is so touristy.

The Bienale was kind of underwhelming this year. Maybe I’m just getting jaded and bitter and spoiled. But it was pretty meh. There’s two parts. The Giardini was lame this year. Arsenale was pretty good (Italy and China and NZ being the stand outs for me). And Damien Hirst and the YBA had an amazing off site show which was spectacular. But then it couldn’t not be with the money behind it.

And more food. And food and food.

And early evening aperols in squares by canals, with balmy breezes and happy people.

And then, suddenly, Molly turned 14!! She could choose to spend the day anyway she wanted. (Shopping / gelato). And so we ignored her and had a spectacular lunch in an ancient restaurant over looking St Marks Square – which was all about Mummy and Daddy eating and drinking what they wanted all along –  a degustation of truffle themed dishes. And a Sicilian wine that was incredible but I forgot to write down the name of it. Bum. And I had a little tour through the kitchens which was very cool.

So there was a blockage in the blog (caused mainly by The Children consuming my attention.)

I was genuinely very sad to leave Sarajevo. I feel very at home in Ottoman places. I’ll miss the call to prayer and mosques. I’ll miss all sorts of undefinable elements of a world I feel very comfortable in. The colors are better. The smells are spicy. Its very hard to explain, but it all makes me feel at home.

I drove through the breathtaking Bosnian mountains. Very steep and rugged. Gorges and rivers and waterfalls. Wild red roses clinging to white stone cliffs. Lime green beech forests. Bosnia has one of the last remaining primeval forests in Europe. And wolves, that they hunt.

Over the austere mountains down into lush (Christian) Herzegovina where I went to Trebinje. (Which is in the Republika Srpskasee  – a whole different entity to Bosnia and Herzegovina. Another place to put on the list of ‘countries I’ve never heard of’.)

It is so beautiful. Little stone bridges and orchards and vineyards and is exactly the sort of place you’d prick your finger on a spindle or be offered an apple by a crone.

I visited the Serbian Orthodox Cathedral and bought local wine … then drove over the white, rugged, high, stony mountains and steeply down over the other side – down to the ocean and beautiful Croatia.

Croatia – It has the same lazy seaside feeling as Greece and the Italian seaside. Orchards and gardens and tiny fishing villages. All strung along a narrow strip of coastline backed by mountains and Bosnia.

I met up with the children at the airport in Dubrovnik,  where they arrived from Barcelona with their Dad. And it was lovely to see them after so long. And reinforced how much I like being by myself and traveling alone …

Dubrovnik itself seems quite artificial – arriving with the mid-day cruise ship crowds was like checking in to ‘Mediterranean World’ at Disneyland. But with better seafood and slippery white marble. And fewer fat people on mobility scooters.

Our apartment was in the attic of a very large, heavy stately apartment building. Downstairs were twisty alley ways and enough restaurants and bars to meet the needs of any tourist from any part of the planet. Early mornings and evenings it was gorgeous and semi-peaceful, but mid day it was chaotic. Steaming pushing crowds. Like Venice at its worst. But with a wall around it so you can’t get away.

We spent one day at a nearby island. Weirdly infested with fearless rabbits and flocks of peacocks. And empty apart from a scenic monastery and Napoleonic fort. They all swam and I read peacefully among the peafowl. Ate a lovely meal in the cloisters. And had to fight off snacky peacocks.

We walked the walls one evening. Vertigo inducing (100ft tall in places). But worth it for the sunset. Ate some really good seafood in places. But ridiculously expensive. So good after all the dolmas and cucumber and brown since August.

There isn’t much to Dubrovnik. Its pretty. There are some nice buildings. Its fun to pretend to be Cersei in Kings Landing. But its very touristic and after 3 or 4 days … there’s really fuck all to do. Very popular with Americans because a) accessible to cruise ships b) Game of Thrones c) not seen as a terror threat.

The recent history is interesting. Looking at the massive, thick, defensive city walls. Still intact – mostly 14th century. And thinking that those walls semi-succesfully protected the city from bombs and missiles as recently as the Yugoslavian war. Photographs of a modern city under siege – of buildings you’re standing beside being shelled, shrapnel in walls, painting ripped by bullets – is really quite moving and amazing.

From Dubrovnik we drove to Split. The second city of the Dalmatian coast. Curiously, since the fall of Yugoslavia you now drive through a tiny portion of Bosnia … so the kids have a Bosnian stamp in their passports.

Split is, I think, much nicer than Dubrovnik*. Built on the ruins of Diocletian’s Palace. A fascinating mix of ancient, organically fused with really old, with tasteful touches of modern around the edges. Less military and defensive than Dubrovnik. Opening on to the busy beautiful harbor –  like the sea side retirement resort Diocletian meant it to be in the 4th century.

We stayed a bit out of town, near a beach, in a manky AirB&B (they can be hit and miss). But the walk into town was nice. I fell in love with a bar called Noor. Lovely barmen making really interesting cocktails … craft syrups and liqueurs … across the tiny alley from a great restaurant – all set under Roman arches and renaissance ruins. Stunning. I may have had too many cocktails and too much really fucking good Croatian red wine that night.

*Dubrovnik is a VERY cattie place. Molly and think it might be the cattiest place we’ve been which scores it a lot of points. Split is quite light on cattes.

Bosnia – my first impression driving from the airport was of wolves and gingerbread houses. After a week nothing has changed.

And I am Little Red Riding Hood.

The airport is tiny. Smaller than Queenstown. Nestled among hills. The drive from the airport into Sarajevo confusingly goes through different ‘countries’ – the federation, into the canton, and then back over the border. The government is very confusing. The Prime Minister has the power. There’s a different president chosen every 8 months representing the different religious/ethnic groups. But he is a figurehead role. So confusing. They are working towards jumping through all the EU hoops – but there’s tricksy things like genocide and war-crimes in their way.

The very steep hills have little houses with red Ottoman style roofs and smokey chimneys. And dark forest creeping down. Where the wolves are I imagine.

Although there’s wolves in the city too. I had dinner with one. (He calls me Little Red Riding Hood). More later. And another night, a lady in the restaurant I was having dinner in lost her TWO passports, her money and her phone from her stupid little backpack. She remembered being jostled coming into the restaurant. I ate as fast as I could and ran away before the police came. Never any reason to have too much to do with local police.

There’s a pretty river running through the middle of the city – the Miljacka. With bridges  – including the Latin Bridge, next to my hotel, where Arch Duke Frans Ferdinand was shot.

There’s an old Ottoman part of the city with mosques and baths and towers. I’m staying in an extremely gracious, beautifully restored Hammam bathhouse from 1450 attached to the oldest mosque in Bosnia. One of the nicest places I’ve stayed on this trip – although the Azeri hotel set the bar pretty fucking low.

I went to prayers at the old mosque one evening in full ninja , and then weirdly to a wedding – attended by Erdogan’s son and about 80 bodyguards. A very surreal experience and very spooky to be so close to a member of the Evil Empire.

Turkey throws a lot of money around here. Especially at high profile restorations. Bosnia is the only Islamic ‘European’ country. A show pony for Turkey. And there’s not much of a Sunni majority so Turkey wants to throw their non-secular weight a round to make sure their team is winning.

Its definitely a Muslim majority city. But only about 5% of women wear scarves – and I assume they’re all Arab tourists – but there is religion everywhere and its important.

By comparison – Azerbaijan is a 99% Muslim country where there is no call to prayer, no mosques (that aren’t 1000 years old) and plenty of places to drink wine.

Like everywhere I’ve been there’s a very strong Arab tourist influence. Lots of money and investment creeping in, mostly from Qatar I think. But there are a few English speaking tourists here. The sorts of dumfucks who wear tiny backpacks filled with everything important.

The guys at the table next to me in this café are Russians, from Moscow. They’re trying to persuade me to visit Москва. They are having some sort of business meeting and keep talking about ‘Sarajevo/Moscow/and Istanbul’ – I am less than surprised. They also look like the sorts of guys that are packing. But so do most guys here.

The food here is unremarkable. Very simple. Unseasoned. Its very Ottoman – stuffed dolmas-y things, meat, bread … cucumber salads. Its super touristy in the old part of the city. Like a tiny Prague.

The next part of the city is Austro-Hungarian. So very beautiful late 19^th C buildings, not as grand and luxurious as the Azeri mansions of a similar period, but huge and run down and shabby. Lots of pale lemon, pale pink and grey. Pigeon colours.

In the Ottoman part of town you drink tea and eat baklava. In the Austrian part you go to Viennese cafes and drink coffee and eat cake.

Two beautiful cathedrals – one Orthodox and one Catholic. And a lovely old synagogue from 1902. I went to see the famous Haggadah – a very important Jewish 660 year old manuscript. Its off display – the room its in is being renovated. The museum man was very apologetic and very emphatic that they have NO IDEA when it will be back on display. There are lots of Israeli conspiracy theories about whats happening to it. And knowing that its Turkish money involved in the upkeep of the museum I’m hardly surprised. But coming to Sarajevo and not seeing it is like going to Dublin and not seeing the Book of Kells. So I’m pissy.

And then beyond the Austro-Hungarian part of the city are some big new garish modern buildings. That stand out appallingly like wolves balls.

I drove up into the hills above the city to watch the sun set. And if you ignore the ugly balls buildings it could still be medieval. Mosque towers everywhere. Smoky chimneys. Red roofs. Steep rolling hills going forever into distance. Ottoman heaven.

Further up into the mountains is where the war was really fought. The Wolf told me about how terrifying it was. The Serbs were at the top of the mountain firing missiles and rockets into the city and the soldiers from below had to creep up through thick fog to try and catch them, neither side knew exactly where the other was and the fog would be so thick in the morning ‘that you couldn’t see your finger held up’. There are burnt out buildings and hotels up there. Probably plenty of bodies in the trees.

The siege here was the longest of any city in modern times – from 1992 – 1996. And there were battles in Mostar and Srebrenica as well. Over 5000 civilians killed. And 100,000 mostly Bosniaks.

The mountains are famous, other than for the war, for the Winter Olympics in 1984. There’s still a lot of Olympic infrastructure around the city and outskirts. Including the famous bobsleigh track – it’s partially destroyed by tank fire. But the bad-arse kids still use it now. Death wish.

It’s a very snow focused city and it must be beautiful here in winter. The hills are full of little coffee houses and chalets and ski lodges.

I think it’s a very positive vibrant places – for young people to get drunk and have a good time. Maybe that’s what happens after a civil war – the next generation just want to move on and have fun – like in Beirut. But its not as dynamic and sexy as Beirut. Maybe a tiny little cold version.

I like it here. Although its very small. And the food is pretty rubbish. But the wine is really nice and the people are very friendly.

Firstly, I flew on Azerbaijan Airlines. And it was fabulous. Into Baku, one of the nicest, most efficient airports in the world. (So now I’ve done both ends of that spectrum, with Beirut at the very bottom of worst).

Azerbaijan is one of the six Turkic countries – Turkey, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan. Which means they speak a Turkic language and all have strong cultural similarities. 

Flying over the country its very mountainous and deserty, on the edge of the Caspian sea – which is vast. There’s a LOT of oil and gas in Azerbaijan which makes it a very wealthy country – especially compared to the other Caucus countries. Its very hot in the summer and so humid (seaside!) which I’ve not been use to. I’m used to hot, dry and high altitude. And then very windy and cold in winter. The Siberian winds blowing down.

Baku, the capital, where I am is a very modern, pristinely clean city. Like a cross between Dubai and Istanbul maybe? At least in the public bits. If you step back a few streets its very skody and rough and normal.

It has all the Western wanna-be prerequisites like a Hard Rock Café, KFC and McDonalds, and ten different places to eat a burger. But one street away from the fancy part of town it’s dolmas and cucumber salad.

There’s always been oil here. It’s famous for its ‘burning mountains’ – like the Chimera mountains in Turkey. But it became wealthy and important and fought over once oil became important in the 19th/20th centuries.

There’s lots of very impressive 19^thC buildings. A lot that were mansions of the oil elite that the Russians made into public buildings.

The event center which is amazing. Designed by Zaha Hadid – my favorite architect.

And the Flame Towers are pretty awesome.

Society seems very refined and orderly and gentile. (There must be a crappy part but I never saw it anywhere). A reasonably strong police presence. And I think its probably very rural once you get out of town. The greatest danger is being walked into by a teenager in a Ramones t-shirt looking at their phone.

I just stayed in the city. Which has 3 parts. Medieval walled ancient fortified, gorgeous city. 19^th century European city of mansions and plazas. And ultra modern, shiny new city.

My hotel is ‘mansion and plaza adjacent.’ A couple of streets back from the lovely tea gardens and avenues. Where there are no footpaths or streetlights – always a small chance of walking into an open man hole in the dark or touching a live hanging wire. Much more like Beirut. The hotel had no water sometimes, no wifi intermittently, no air con most of the time, screaming, shouting, police … but it had power continuously unlike Beirut. 🙂

One weirdness here is that its almost impossible to cross the road. There are 6 lane avenues all in one direction. You have to walk to find an underpass. (Which are shiny and marble and would be inconceivable to piss in or tag). And no one j-walks or runs through traffic like they would anywhere else.

Another weirdness is it’s 92ft below sea level. The lowest capital in the world. So the Caspian Sea must have been much bigger and deeper once? And its shrinking like the Dead Sea – I’m guessing. The Caspian is also a mixture of salt and fresh water in different places – weird. There’s lots of carp-types fish, like the fancy sturgeon I tried – tastes of mud like, fresh water fish.

So now I’ve now seen all of the South Caucus but its impossible (for me) to go the North Caucus. Those are all the autonomous Russian regions like Chechnya – and a bunch of other countries I’ve never even heard of – the Republic of Adygea, Karachay-Cherkessia, Kabardino-Balkaria … all around the Sea of Azov. ?? I always thought I was good at geography. A lot of this trip has been learning about places I’ve never heard of  – its like visiting Narnia.

Azerbaijan is very interesting – to a point. But once you’ve been to the Art Gallery, looked at the old city, and wandered down the sea side promenade and sat in 10 different tea gardens there’s fuck all to do really. All the ‘attractions’ are events like the Grand Prix or Eurovison. Its nice. But meh.

There aren’t as many cats in the Caucus as there should be. It’s no Istanbul. Lots and lots of dogs though. There is a type of dog called a Georgian Shepherd dog which looks like a small bear. They’re all over the place. They have their ears clipped and tails docked so they can fight the wolves better 😐

Georgia’s most famous person. Old people might still be a bit impressed but I think the young people are creeped out. When the Russians left in the 90’s all the offensive soviet monuments and statues were pulled down (like in the southern US now) except one statue of Stalin in his home town. But then Russia invaded Georgia in 2008 to take over South Ossetia – so they took down Stalin over night and put him away in a cupboard.

The Stalin museum is at the site of his birth, including the house he was born in. It’s huge. It looks like a train station. You can take photos inside, but no audio or video, so you can’t repeat the utter propaganda bullshit the guides tell you.

Its fascinating and disgusting. There’s a gift store.

Georgia is a very mountainous country (ie the Caucus mountains) and it was/is very tribal. Separate languages and ethnicity’s living in heavily defensible mountain fortresses and valleys. Lots of swords and watch towers in really inaccessible places. Mountaintop churches to keep the relics safe from the Persians who surrounded them from the Armenian and Iran sides and also from Chechnya and Dagastan above, which were Persian states.

Here’s a particularly lovely mountain church that I could have ‘hiked’ up to, but I’m due in Italy in 3 weeks, so I went up by four wheel drive instead, which was an adrenaline rush in itself. Health and safety in this country – THERE IS NONE.

Do these look like the sort of roads you want to drive on?

But worth it to get up here.

See how it looks like there’s just a sheer drop of thousands of feet …. ? H&S = 0

7th C grape carvings. Priorities :).

A terrifying Rasputin-a-like Monk polices the church for ladies showing their disgusting lady hair and lady legs in trousers. ( Church supplied lava-lava. )

Wine, and booze in general is very important here. Aged cognacs. Apricot vodka. Apple Vodka (aka industrial sterilizer). Mulberry vodka (Georgia had an important silk industry – so hence mulberry things. The Persians cut all the trees down to stop any competition. Also, top tip, mulberry is a disgusting flavor anyway). (Also, tarragon flavored drinks are just wrong.)

Wine cellars. Wine shops. Wine paraphernalia.

Georgian food is very similar to Armenian (and Lebanese and Turkish) – grilled meat/ salad/ always with fucking cucumbers. The only differences are slight. Georgia and Armenia are much less sophisticated. Lebanese and Turkish food is way more sophisticated and complex and diverse.

The Georgians love ‘feasts’. Meals should be served at long tables and toasts are very important. Its a fine line between whether drinking is more important than eating.

The whole history and culture of Georgia is about wine and grapes. The culture was at its peak in the 11^th c and all the churches and building left from then (LOTS!) have carvings of grapes.

Some wine was great. A lot of very sweet reds. And enough orange wine to last me forever, thanks.

Kachapuri – the signature dish of Georgia and one of very many cheese based dishes they have. (You can understand why they need so much dried fruit now). Kachapuri is quite delicious – crispy bread outside, ricotta-ish cheese, melted butter and a raw egg inside. You mix it all together and the egg cooks a little because its very hot.

I swear I have eaten at least one cucumber salad, sometime 3, every day for the last month. In Beirut they had mint. In Georgia they have ground walnuts. I don’t need to eat cucumber ever again. These giant fist sized dumplings were delicious. Meat and broth inside. You use the top/handle part to pick them up, but you don’t eat that bit.

One of these meals was the one that tried to kill me … I don’t want to talk about either.

Feasts!

Caviar and rye 🙂

Georgian Orthodox churches are much more shiny and traditionally Eastern and Byzantine. Much more my style. Byzantine shape and lots of icons and relics. More frescos than mosaics. It is the church of St Andrew with wonderful stories of nun-saints from Cappadocia; eclipses; pagans; and Constantinople.

( Skip this whole section if you aren’t as passionately in love with early Byzantine ecclesiastic art as I am. )

From a selection of different churches. There are 700 more photos like this. Bring wine to my house and I will show you some time.