Coffee

There are themes that continue to rise though this year, and coffee is one of them. 

Coffee in Norway it is dark, bitter and never ending at home on rainy mornings.  There are no coffee cafes, it is something you enjoy from a thermos picking berries or around the fire with friends at home. 

Coffee in Croatia, not really a beverage, it is an event, a way of being.  “Getting a coffee” more means a minimum two hour event.  It is never “to go.”  “Getting coffee” is a daily ritual of life and a medium by which all of life events take place.  You go to “have coffee” if you date, break up, have a work meeting, talk to your family. It is done in the public squares, never alone and never with a computer.  It is always an impossibly small cup, that Croatians have the amazing ability to make last hours.  When the tourists leave, the only places that stay open are the coffee shops, which then serve wine and beer at night. 

Singapore.  There is a beautiful efficiency of Singapore, and with the highly sugared iced coffee that is everywhere, Kopi-O, seemed to fit the city perfectly.  Kopi-o is coffee made through a fancy sock filter and with as much sugar as you can get to dissolve. If you want it cold and to go, it is poured over ice, tied together with a rubber run and straw was a perfect companion to, well anything: a hot walk, spicy Indian curry, chicken rice or beef satay and the perfect answer to jet lag.    It was also the land of selfies - while we never did,  you can get your selfie printed on the foam of your latte at the famous “Selfie Coffee” shop.

Malaysia: Penang white coffee.  Now in Malaysia, the coffee grows in the surrounding hills and every corner has another “white coffee” stand often with  street vendor or two.  A drink for any time of the day this more milk than coffee version of coffee has me yawning in the afternoon but longing to find out more about the history.  It is also a place where labor is cheap so people send time on things, like 3D foam creations in your coffee. 

More adventures are sure to come, but grateful for the warm cup of joe in mornings. 

I asked for a “coffee with cream” and learned the magic of Croatia: cream = whipped cream!

This fun sign in Penang summarized about how I feel after finding a good cup of joe!

Someone had a hard time getting used to coffee size in Croatia.

Checking out the #Selfie Coffee stand in Singapore

Making the wonderful sock coffee to go.   

Getting breakfast for the girls with our coffee to go.  

Homeschool Writing Assignment: The Heart of Croatia

The Heart of Croatia

by IZ

I strained my ears for the sound of waves gently washing over the rocky beach, but I heard none.  The sea was silent. The salty body of water simply slept in an undisturbed silence. It was as helpless as an infant, relying on the rocks deep down below to hold its up its limp body.  The only suggestion of movement was the small grey fish skimming the surface for nutrients and seaweed brought from the latest storm. The sun danced with the ripples as they continuously marched forward, getting smaller with each circular pattern outward, never quite making it to to the abandoned rock castles that dotted the crescent-shaped beach.  

The beach was different than others I had visited.  It was rocky, with no sand to bury your toes. Instead of palm trees, giant olive trees provided shade as they swayed in the gentle breeze that blew through their strong branches.  The lovely scenery was laid back on the stunning Adriatic Sea in a small town in Croatia. Its red tiled stone houses brought me a scene of home.

I slowly pulled myself up, dusting off all the little pebbles that had made a home on my legs, leaving little red marks.  My calves looked like they had a bad case of the chicken pox, only the dots went inward. I felt as if I was hobbling over the stretch of rocks as they moved below my feet, acting only half solid.  When I finally reached a large rock, I lay down and let my feet dangle into the glimmering Adriatic. The moment they made contact with the water they recoiled with the touch of its cool surface. Ignoring my senses I dove into the water, making a  splash followed by a much bigger ripple effect.

The sea may have seemed calm on the surface but down in the deep blue water under the glassy top it was filled with lively action.  The sun sliced through the surface like a kaleidoscope of turquoise and emerald green. I was in the world’s greatest theater, watching a stunning performance of acrobatic sea creatures.  Bright orange and ruby red crabs battled over a stip of slimy algae covered seaweed. Graceful turtles glided through the act with a stunningly rhythmic cadence. The great strong and powerful sea anemone caught baby fish in its trap of swaying velcro-like arms and legs.  Not only was it a breathtaking experience (literally, I had to swim to the surface multiple times to get more air) but it was the everyday lives of these little creatures.

I returned to the rocky beach once more and listened to the sound of crabs scuttling along the rocks and birds chirping off in the distance.  My mouth tasted of salt, but it was not unpleasant. It was more refreshing and cleansing than I remembered. I welcomed the warm sun to chase away my chills, filling me with warmth.  

I.Z.

Book Reports: Chasing A Croatian Girl.....

Plitvice Lakes

Long before we came to Croatia, the Plitvice Lakes were high on my list of “must do” but tucked in the hills between the coast and Zagreb, they were not a part of our original plan. When we booked our tickets to Singapore it was much cheeper to fly out of Zagreb and it meant we would rent a car and could drive to the lakes on our way our. We had also heard the lakes were packed (they weren’t). Even into October and November when the rest of the tourism in Croatia has died off, these have been one of the last hold outs despite their altitude. In fact in the winter, most of the waterfalls freeze.

I had forgotten about the weather. Everywhere else we have been we have had enough time we just pick the best day to go on the adventure, but this time we had one day to see the lakes, a day with 100% heavy rain and 40 degrees. We dressed in all of our layers and headed out for the day.

The trail and park were impressive. Well marked trails, busses and boats connecting different points of interests and beautiful lakes and water falls. They really have set up this park to make it a beautiful place to enjoy regardless of the weather. Also with the time of year and the weather we had the place almost to ourselves.

Snow ball fights, wet cold rain, fun in the hills on our own, it felt almost like we were home before we take off for our next big adventure - Singapore tomorrow!

The water was temptingly blue green. Not from glacier silt and not from hot springs, but from moss and algae and the clear limestone rocks. Fish packed the rivers and every turn was a new surprise.

I loved the details that came through. The moss, leaves, stone stairs, it was like a painting made of a million dots. Here the girls make their way down the trail, through a cave to the edge of one of the lakes.

The park itself was impressive in the way they build boardwalks and bridges to let you drift between sections, both close to the water, yet perfectly dry.

I loved the drops of water on the trees, hanging like little pearls reflecting the light in this white white wet world.

A few last leaves were holding on, snow could be found in the shade of the trees. Very different than the blue waters where people bathe in the summer, but great to have the park almost to ourselves and time to explore.

Playing around under the “big waterfall.”

The development of the park was impressive with caves and walk ways connecting the lakes, rivers and caves.

The limestone hills give way to cascading waterfalls and deep blue pools as the water walks its way though its timeless journey to the ocean.

After stones and beach for so long, I was completely in love with the trees as far as they eye could see. A fun end to our time in Croatia.

Little one’s Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was not the same without friends and family.  Usually every year our family throws thanksgiving for everybody.  Everyone we know goes to our house and brings food for our feast.  Once everybody had arrived we would all start eating.  It was like a ocean of food!  Everywhere you looked there was always something that  you reminded yourself to go get next.  Our two dogs Luna and Nalu would be locked out on thanksgiving but every once in awhile I would sneak out and give them some scraps.

Once all the kids were stuffed we would all lay on the couch for like an hour.  We would be so fat all we could do was crawl around on our stomach all over everybody else on the coach, If you needed to get your drink or something.  After we could walk again we would all run upstairs and rough house. we would all have one giant wrestling match.  And then after almost everybody left, me and Izzy would beg our closest friends parents to let them have a sleepover.

This thanksgiving was different though.  This thanksgiving I woke up early and headed to the kitchen. (Did I forget to mention, we are still in Croatia.)  In the kitchen I started coffee for my parents, And I made some braided bread and scones.  I woke the rest of my family up with tea and coffee.  My mom made baked eggs for breakfast, yummmmm.  After that we went to a fortress on the mountain and enjoyed the unexpected beautiful weather.  After that we went up the hill to the top where a fancy restaurant awaited us.  when we were through the day and I was in bed I thought of what this thanksgiving had been like compared to all the others that had past in Alaska.  This was a great thanksgiving.  It was different yes, but different is not bad

Dubrovnik

The sense of place in Dubrovnik is something that has caught me off guard.  Nations come and go, wars fought, alliances changed, but these city walls still stand.  The home is still the home, the church still the church.  Restaurants move their chairs around to fit the changing weather, tenets come and go, but the cobbled streets of limestone get a little smoother every year under the pressure and friction of millions of steps.

Dec 6, 1991, this town was bombed.  It started with the cross on top of the mountain behind the city in the early morning, and quickly much of the city was on fire.  Everywhere you walk it is this interesting balance between Game of Thrones scenes, war memorabilia, tourist shops and the functions of everyday living, all boxed together by huge stone walls.  

I feel like I am in a board game.  There are well-defined edges, and the players of modern society,  the history of the past, the needs of the tourist and the local are all playing out, one on top of another, each bending to find the space they need creating this interesting collage of experiences.

The summers here sound intense; our Airbnb host described it as 'rivers of people you must swim through to get anywhere.'  She laughs when people say they are at the gate and they will be there in 10 minutes because she knows they will have to go "upstream," a walk the girls run in less than a minute in now.

These days thunderstorms come and go, the wind blows cold through the city, and the Christmas decorations are going up.  A cruise ship or two a day bring a flock of glazed-eyed tourist making the rounds to the usual destinations, but in the evenings, the hum of the old town takes over.  School groups gather at the church; a wedding procession makes their way through town, and little one curls up in the corner a the local bookstore enthralled in another book.

These are our last days in Croatia, probably our last days in Europe for some time.   Croissants, hidden walkways, and cappuccinos - I am going to miss this place.  But what I am taking away is a sense of transcendence, of inevitability to life: these walls, these mountains they stand and lay witness to our struggles and joys as individuals, as families, and as nations; they hardly change, but we change because of them. I have learned more about world history in these past few months than years in school.  I read the paper every morning with a new light.    With all of the history and struggles of Europe's past and present what I have noticed the most is the importance of time, art, and beauty so many people seem to capture in a decidedly non-American way.  Much like the very first days in Bergen and all the potted plants, the little touches is what I have noticed the most.  It is as if these old walls whisper, “you have yet one life to live, we will still be here; you don't always have to be practical."  "Enjoy the cup of coffee, put a flower out to share and marvel at  the sunset." 

So off to coffee, to new adventures and to enjoy this little nugget of peace we found among to stones of war.  

It is no wonder Game if Throns was filled here. This beach is Kings Landing.

Living in old town.

These walls are amazingly intact.

Exploring the walls around the city.

Headed to the old fort

When you only have a few cloths, you make new combinations. She said she wanted to try lots if different styles this year to figure out which one is really hers. Makes sense.

Layers of history. 

Every night these lights make the walls around the city make the whole place glow.

If only this picture captured a fraction of the light and colors of this amazing sunset.

I have loved the little details of pride in this city.

Found this little one singing to herself.  I love how the weapons of a war are now a place for a child to rest. 

Only things you can do in the off season

These two!   How did they get so big?

Every evening was another painting. 

Soooo big!  So fun to spend this year with these two.

Off to new adventures.  

Little one stole the phone again.

One more year before she heads to high school!

The layers upon layers of history.  Each piece with its own story.  

Eating lunch in their own.  

This sleepy city along the Adriatic bearing witness to the ever changing moods of humanity.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving.   It is always my favorite holiday of the year.  Big gatherings, yummy warm food, the chance to give thanks, to have a second chance and to start the holiday season with family and friends.

This year was mellow and small as our family celebrated on its own.  Lily woke us up with coffee, homemade scones, and our traditional braided bread.  After breakfast, we went and hiked up the mountain behind Dubrovnik, took in the view and came down in time for video chats with family near and far, cookies and a movie.  

Along the hike, the kids were funny and playful, and I asked them what they were grateful for.  I thought I would share:

- Hedgehogs because they just are great

- Dad not having any hair, so he does not shed hair, and it is easier to keep the house clean

- "My ears to tuck away horn hair" - i.e., the baby hair around her face

- Coffee, because then I have something to serve you in the mornings

- Pigs because, well bacon and bacon is great

- Athleta making great clothes and so I don’t have to

- Mom's clothes, so she can carry them in her bag, yet I can wear them when I want to.

- Dogs because they make me happy to look at, that one, ok that one, or and that one.  I think they stopped counting at 13

- Bread products - no reason needed

- Mom's limbs - they are fun to pull on, hold on to, wrap around me

- Dog outfits, because they make an already great thing better

- Digital phones, because now I always have a camera, music and I don't have to carry anything else.

- Portrait mode on the phone, because it makes everything look better

- The decorations around Dubrovnik, because I love Christmas decorations, and they are even better on castle walls

- Ice cream shops, everywhere, especially this one because they are kind, call us "Alaska" and give huge scopes of "half and half" ice cream

- Stylish clothing, because Europeans are so stylish and it is fun to look at their clothing

- "Mandarinas" or small oranges that have been consumed by the kilo over the past month.  

- Granny's soup, because we love her soup

- An oven because you can use it for so many things

- Sunshine, because it is beautiful and makes you feel warm

- Warm swimming water and the Adriatic swim challenge

- Escalators (as we were climbing up hundreds of stairs)

- Shade (as we got hotter climbing up the stairs.)

So be it warm or cold wherever you are this Thanksgiving, we hope the dogs were cute, the oranges were plentiful, the phone pictures were in portrait mode, and you all enjoyed some Granny soup.  

Our little crew for the year.

Braided bread - accidentally baked on broil mode

Face-timing family

Orange juice to go with the oranges!

Two of the three: Dogs on portrait mode - she reminded us of our sweet Luna who we miss a ton.

Cheers friends!

Croatia National News

Why do we travel?  What have we learned?  How do you summarize feelings you don't yet have words for?  How do you share this journey to a larger audience? You trust the magic of a professional.  Franka and her team from the National Croatian TV station finished editing and aired their 11-minute segment on us this past week and it was fun to see their magic at work.

The TV segment was part of a larger series on tourism in Croatia.  They had kindly set up fun events like wine tasting and chocolate tastings, but more than even the event, spending the two days with them was a real treat.   I received a text the other day that the segment was done and aired. You can see it by looking at their website:

The day after it aired - our Airbnb host was all excited he saw us on TV.    Kind of like this blog, it is funny to put your world out there, not sure whom all sees it how it is interpreted.  But like life, this year is an adventure that we have chosen to share - as my aunt recently said "Don't just count your blessings, share them"  We have been blessed.

Watch the short story about our trip here:

https://magazin.hrt.hr/472665/price-iz-hrvatske/zivot-na-putu

Bursting Bubbles - back in the States.

We have been on the road for almost four months now.  Norway and Croatia have felt like second homes, and we have had more time as a family than I could have ever dreamed of.   I think we are all feeling a little ready for a new adventure, a further step. As the girls said, “mom, I am ready to have my bubble burst,” to see more that surprises them and challenges their worldview.   We intentionally did it this way, starting in a northern, rural western country and traveling to places increasingly different from our own as we went. However, what I realized when I came back to the United States for the week was how much we had acclimatized to our new environments, and coming home was a bit of a shock.

My bubble was burst by the customs agent when I landed in Denver who gave me a fist bump and said “glad to have you home girl.”  Mind you I have never met this man in my life. He acted like a long lost friend and greeted me with a smile the size of Texas. I wasn’t sure anyone I didn’t know had smiled at me in four months and a warm welcome caught me off guard.   I was reminded of a waiter in Croatia who when he asked what I would like I said “a cappuccino please” and he said “American, so easy to spot.” I was a little taken aback, I didn’t think the cappuccino was that American of me, I pressed back, how was I that easy to spot, what did he mean by that?  After pressing he conceded, “I can understand you, and you think everyone is your friend and everyone is going to do you a favor.” It was clear in the first second of the conversation that he was a quick-witted Serbian man on this Croatian island interested in geopolitics with a fresh memory of the Balkan wars.   I love how he challenged me saying “you may have had 200 years of peace, but it is only the illusion of peace as you cause war for others.” and we had fascinating and respectful conversation about the role of the US, the EU and the palpable tensions in this still healing, yet divided nation only covered by the superficial glitz of the robust Croatian tourist industry.    Let say, he didn’t give me a fist bump but helped me recognize the American smile in this customs agent.

I had traveled for a year after college and I still clearly remember the pattern of organized, clean, massively expansive carpet of the LA airport when I first came home.   I remember feeling overwhelmed by how organized and large the climate controlled the US was, (but I was coming from South Africa at that time.) I remember it almost taking my breath away, almost like being squeezed.   This time however it was a palpable feeling of joy as I floated through the crowds, lost in the delight of being one of many in this busy, multicultural hustle that surrounded me and all those Western smiles.

The hallway from the international terminal to customs at DIA airport is lined with beautiful larger than life portraits of Native Americans as a stark reminder of who’s land this was.   A black woman with two small children was helped with her bags by a white man in a Stetson cowboy hat and cowboy boots. Instead of large groups of Asian tourist listening to their tour guide in bluetooth headphones, an elderly Japanese woman and her grandson grabbed their bags next to a woman with a hijab traveling on her own next to a sizeable bubbly family speaking in Spanish.  America felt like this beautiful, casual, and messy world of extraordinary diversity.

The ease of the moment was also striking.  Granted I was in Utah, but the roads were huge and straight and logical.  The customer service focused business world made my first day back feel like a dream.    I bounced through an extensive list of errands loving my to go coffee, NPR on the radio, huge smiles and increased efficiency of every stop.  The “money back guarantees” on a few clothing items that have not done so well in our time traveling were transformed into new additions to our minimal word and felt very different than bantering in Croatia for a dress.   It may have helped that was a perfect Utah fall day, 50 degrees, perfectly blue skies, white-capped mountains, and beautiful yellow leaves but man, it felt good to be home.

The beauty of the American West was also striking.  As I traveled to Southern Utah and I reaffirmed my belief that the most beautiful place in the world is the desert southwest.   While some girls dreamed of their wedding day, I dreamed of having an art studio, red pickup truck tucked in the red mesas of the desert southwest.   Being back among the hills I felt like I was right back in that dream.

However, despite the beauty and joy, there was intense sadness and sense of loss as well during my trip back to the states.   There was an uneasiness as I returned the day before the midterm elections, an uneasiness as we have increasingly divided ourselves by politics rather than uniting as people.  This feeling crystallized for me as I looked over the Mandalay Bay hotel in Las Vegas before flying home and the memory of the mass shooting there was enough to keep me from venturing out.   On TV a mother pleaded for gun control after losing her son to a shooting in California, even though he had survived the shooting at Mandalay Bay.

And while the customs officer may have burst my bubble, as I boarded the plane to head back to my family that was waiting on a small island in the middle for the Adriatic ocean in a 400-year-old home, I had the sense a subtle yet profound shift has been taking place that I had not quite noticed.  Like milk in coffee - once two separate things, the milk and coffee mix to become one. This year and my life are swirling into one in ways I had not noticed, never to be undone, yet leaving me entirely transformed.

Humac

Humac is a small town off the grid on the island of Hvar and our home for the past two weeks. To keep with the simplicity of this place, we have just posted some pictures instead of words. Enjoy.

Many of our meals were cooked over the open fire. Stuffed red peppers were the girls favorite.

Part of the old town center where most of the wine was made

We spent a day picking olives in Svirče with Jakov and his family.

Our afternoon napping spot at our off-gird house in Human.

Fields of Lavander near the house after they have been harvested for the season.

Off grid, but the house has a mobile router so we were able to keep up with the online homeschool program.

The only neighbors.

We picked olives off the 5 trees near the house so Jakov could pick them up. We were treated to a nice delivery of tangerines and olive oil in exchange.

One of the cats had three kitties while we were staying here and the girls loved it.

giving the kitty milk

kitty kisses

kitty

More school work inside the house

Mint steamer to keep motivated for homework

The primary form of entertainment when not doing school work

Jakov gave us a tour of the ancient caves and the village church. The girls were excited to finally be able to ring church bells.

Jakov taking us down to the caves.

Ancient caves

sleeping bat in the cave

walking back to the house during rush hour

Happy Halloween

Our first major holiday away from home, Halloween has come.  While we did see one little girl dressed up in a princess dress, it is pretty much a day like any other in Croatia.   We thought about making masks or costumes, and it is a reminder of this balance we are trying to find between celebrating where we come from and being open to new experiences.   So we took the day off school, had a long lunch together and visited the nearby gravesite where the Croatians are decorating the graves in preparation of All Saints Day, next Thursday.

I have to say I was amazed that the cemetery, covered in flowers and candles in the setting sun high above the ocean was breathtaking.  Families cleaning the graves stones, leaving candles and flowers. I loved the tradition of everyone coming once a year to remember those who came before us.    It was beautiful how alive the cemetery felt on Halloween night.

The fort in the background of this beautiful cemetery.

Flowers, candles, the setting sun; the cemetery was stunning.

The sweetest corner in Jesla

Since I was a child I always imagined how great it would feel bottling up a sensation, a thought, a feeling, or a dream so I could reopen and experience it later. I am clearly not the only person who has thought this. I love how in Roald Dahl’s, The B.F.G. dreams were kept in bottles to be blown into children's rooms, or in Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus where whole rooms were filled with jars of experiences to be opened and re-explored.  So many times this year I have stopped, inhaled deeply and tried to capture that moment forever, just to hold it and not to let it go.

When we walked into Fedra Gamulin's chocolate shop “Gamulin Chocolates” in Jesla I had the overwhelming sensation that this was not a chocolate shop, as much as it was a place where the sensation of the Dalmatian islands was being packaged so you could take a part of the island home.  The smells of lavender, the sweet seedy dried figs and the sticky homemade almond taffy mixed with the warm comfort of melted chocolates. She lives and breathes this island, creates her works of art, and then slides her perfect hardened creations into a bag, ties them with a sweet lavender ribbon and you are left with a bit of Dalmatia to take home.  

Fedra seems to be born to make chocolates.  She based many of her creations on grandmother’s recipes.  When she talks about the process of making chocolates, I heard her speak more of childhood memories, smells and feelings than I did of actual ingredients.  She only makes chocolates she enjoys and her creations feel like the ultimate expression of who she is and the island of Hvar. Her bobbed chocolate brown hair, easy warm smile and playful gestures made me feel like I stepped into Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and anything was possible.  She danced and laughed around her golden brown shop lit by the sparkling globe lights that mirror the sparkling handmade chocolate pralines on the counter, warmly showing us how to make chocolates.

This is the first year Gamulin's shop is open and the girls had a blast, making their own bars to capture their own island memories.   Next year she plans to put out a few tables and offer coffee with chocolate spoons. I can’t think of a better way to enjoy the Croatian tradition of sitting for hours and enjoying a coffee than to do it with the sweet local chocolate.  And after coffee, take a piece of Hvar home in the form of a Gamulin chocolate. Too bad for our friends and family that our adventures continue, otherwise my bag would be full of delicious chocolates and you could experience the Havr Island as well!

yum!

Fun making and eating chocolates!

Little one happy as a kid in a candy store.

These were super fun, local liquors that everyone in Croatia makes on their decks with the added sweetness of drinking them out of chocolate cups, eaten in one big bite after the shot.

Can’t you just feel how much she loves this place she created?

Sugar, chocolate, a break in the rain. I just want to bottle up all these memories!

Lights, camera, action - our days with Croatian national TV crew

When we entered the olive picking competition, we were looking to learn a little more about olives and have fun; we had no idea what would transpire.  One of the organizers used to work at the National Croatian TV station and told the station of our family travel and the next thing we knew we had a film crew following us for a TV special.

Franka and her film crew went above and beyond every expectation.   They worked with Mia, a radio host from Hvar, and set up a day of adventure followed by a day of "filming our everyday life."   The crew helped to coordinate wine and chocolate tasting as a way for us to experience more of the islands history and culture. (see the separate blogs on these two amazing experiences).

Franka was the mastermind of the project, she was relaxed, funny, warm, welcoming and allowed us to be ourselves.   She set up the events, interviewed us as well as our hosts and helped choreograph the filming of our daily life in the windmill.   The cameraman and sound guy were the brawns behind the project, scrambling to get the right angle, or capture our voices through the wind and church bells.

In helping to create this TV story, we were given the opportunity to reflect on what it was that we wanted to share.  Why were we doing this year? What is our morning routine? What had we learned so far? What was it like having parents as teachers?  

It was fun to see the girls rise to the occasion, speaking comfortably for the camera, willing to go with the flow and wait patiently when it was not their turn.   More than anything it was a real treat to spend a few days reflecting on our year through the process of helping create this story. We will post the final piece when it is done. Thank you so much, Dan, Franka and HRT, we can't wait to see the final product.

Getting the mics ready.

Isabelle being interviewed at the chocolate shop.

Franka and her magic.

Getting on film what many of our days really look like.

Getting ready to tell our story.

They told us they would like to get some footage of us making breakfast for the girls, but the deal is we rotate on who makes food, and they often make is, so we had little one make breakfast for the camera crew.

Getting the story behind Gamulin’s chocolates.

Getting behind the behind scene.

Sharing the difference between “Norwegian space bubbles” and “Croatian expressions” as we jumped between these very different cultures.

Making funny faces at dad while he is on camera.

Funny to see your life from this angle.

Cheers to a great few days! You all are the best!

The art of wine and the importance of a story

Winds blew from every direction, and the sky would suddenly break loose drenching this parched island in sheets of water.    We ran passed the swelling port and hopped over the boards at the threshold of the door, (designed to keep out the storm surge) into an old "konobo" that houses the wine store and tasting room of Vina Carić (http://vinohvar.hr) in the town of Vrbanj, Hvar.

We enjoy wine, but I can't say we are sophisticated wine connoisseurs (I may have once drank a half glass of a skunked wine commenting on what an "unusual" taste it had).   What I love however is a story, a passion, and when science mixes with art, and that is precisely what we found at Vina Carić.

Ivana, our guide through a wine and chocolate pairing at Vina Caric said: "we travel not only to see new places but to learn new stories."   I couldn't agree more and through her stories she made this unknown adventure of wine tastings and parings into a warm and inviting process. She told us of her husband, his love for wine and cooking, their adventures of winemaking, and of becoming known around the world.  She talked about the grapes, the hills, the barrels, and the vineyards. She shared the stories of the Romans, the Greeks, of pests and draughts, of struggles and successes. She spoke of creativity, and war, and communism and individuality. But more than anything, spoke about the importance of a story told by wine and about wine; how a story has to be interesting, yet simple enough to be relatable to be shared time and time again.   

She shared her stories through her words, but also through her wines.  Through these wines, she allowed the grapes to share their own stories about the weather, soil, and fermentation.  The wines spoke of how they were loved, cared for and protected as they aged bringing out their best natural qualities.

We pretended we knew what we were doing.   I learned about "legs" of wine and what this says about the viscosity of a liquid with similarly colored molybdenum compounds as an inorganic chemistry major, but that never really helped me know "good wine."  We watched youtube videos of smells and describing tastes, but what I learned from Ivana was that I had been missing the story of wine, and that is where the magic lay.

The way she set up the tasting, she allowed us to compare the wines directly, to almost speak to each other.  There were two wines, both from 2011, the same grape, the famous Hvar Plavac Mali, from the same fields but one was aged in oak, the other was not.  Everything else about these wines was identical. It was fascinating to be able to compare them directly; their taste, color, smell and be able to see and feel the influence the "home" of the fermentation process had on the wine.

I was utterly entranced, and the "blue" label PLOVAC PLOŠKI was simply the best wine I can remember tasting.

It made me think a lot about our children and nature vs. nurture.  These wines were like identical twins separated and exposed to different homes, and it inherently changed them.  Not like a cloak, or a finish, it changed the basic structure of the wine into something new, yet still holding on to its original self and its origins.  The stories these wines told made me wonder how this year will change our children, how slowly, like oak seeping into wine, this year will transform them in ways I cannot yet see or predict.  

Like the winemaker, we struggle to understand the influences of our actions and those of the environment. We merely seek to bring out the most vibrant qualities in each of our children but know they are inherently their own people and so many factors outside of our control will shape and mold them.  We are grateful for this larger world village that is helping to raise them, and like the winemaker, it is through stories we better understand where we come from and how we are being transformed.

“Wine is bottled poetry”

— Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus

The girls loved the chocolates. Each chocolate was filled with a different Mediterranean herb and paired with a different wine.

Savoring the last sips of this beautiful wine.

After hours of wine, and talking and sharing little one transformed the half eaten chocolate board into her own canvas for expression.

"Jugo" and other opportunities of chance

Wind to Croatians is like snow to Native Alaskans. There is not one name, but dozens each explaining a different type, and each with a different meaning.

"Jugo" is the warm, strong southeastern winds that blow in Croatia before the rain.  It is also the wind that can make you grumpy and "not right in the mind." It can blow for weeks and reminds me of the winter Palmer Alaska winds that have blown over semi trucks, taken off car doors, and blown little one across the parking lot ice when she was little.   In fact, in ancient Dubrovnik it was the law that if a criminal act was done while the jugo was blowing, they were not held accountable.  It is the reason for many ailments, depression, and just not feeling right here in Dalmatia

It is essential to know that the "jugo" wind is very different from the "bura" wind a mighty, cold, northeastern wind that turned the Adriatic sea into large waves that took over the first floor of our place in Brac.

It is also different from the "propuh" or cross breeze in a house blamed for numerous ailments from kidney stones to inflammation of the brain and the reason you keep the windows closed and scarfs secured around your neck and I could go on.

The past few days the "jugo" has been blowing (and it is very noticeable when you live in a windmill).   The seas have grown so large boats cannot travel and waves crash onto shore making the main square a wet slippery adventure.  It may be making us all crazy but has also given me time to think about the winds of this adventure.

Tomorrow we meet a camera crew from a Croatian TV station.  They are sending a reporter, cameraman and sound recorder to spend three days with us to "see what we do."   They had heard about us because of the olive picking competition and asked if we would be willing to be a part of a TV show.   They took the opportunity to set us up with a tour from the Hvar Winemakers association to share their secrets and teach us about chocolate making with Croatian herbs.   We started to do a little research into the wine and herb history of the island and are beginning to wonder if the next two days will blow our minds like the Olive picking competition.  The kindness and generosity of the Croatian people knows no bounds, and much like the winds of these islands have taken us by surprise. 

And if we are a disaster for TV, now we can blame it on my new favorite term the "jugo."  

The girls were loving the power of the storm. It has been interesting how close these towns were built to the water and how these storm surges flood the whole town. I wonder how much of this has been affected by rising seas. It is scary to think about on going global warming and what this would mean to these communities right along the sea front.

The Jugo had its way with the abandoned tourist stalls.

Hvar - a new island, a new adventure

"I hate America" "I hate doctors" and "I hate tourist" was the start my conversation with an elegant French woman who knew nothing about me besides my accent.   Her white hair was swept into a perfect bun, her English was impeccable, and our conversion covered everything from stroke recovery, medical advances or lack thereof, art and the meaning of human connections.   That is what I love about traveling, the time to explore the "whys" of all of these statements and ask myself the same questions. By the time our boat pulled into this new port, we had exchanged numbers, heard how she and her Croatian husband meet at ages 15 and 17 on a train and "time stood perfectly still."   We were invited to see her house, a house outside of town with a "perfect trail; a trail Jesus would have walked on" overlooking the sea. She gave us advice on where the locals drank coffee and the "only restaurant that is not a total sham."

We were greeted in the city by a taxi our Airbnb host set up for us given their concern about us walking with our luggage (little did they know about our small packs) and brought to our new home - a historic windmill overlooking the ancient city of Hvar.  

The Island of Hvar is just south of the island of Brac with a fascinating history.  Archeologist have found remnants of Neolithic people on the island, and then later the Illyrians settled the area and then the Greek who build a colony of Pharos around 400 BC  thought to be one of the oldest towns in Europe. Later the Romans who left numerous buildings and then in the middle ages Croatians dominated the land. Later it was a critical Austrian port before it returned to being Croatian, then German, then Yugoslavian and back to Croatian.  It has a rich sea history between the near east and Europe. The town of Grand Hvar has dominated the Croatian tourist seen for 150 years after a physician saw the potential of the island for "relaxation" and "healing." He worked to restore many of the old buildings and encourage European travelers.  After the Yugoslav wars tourism in Croatia boomed. Hvar island especially has been the heart of this growth. Royal visits started in the late 1800's, Jackie O came in 1964 followed by Orson Welles. Jody Foster in the 1970's described it as "the most beautiful place on earth." However, what locals will tell you changed everything was in 2011 when Beyonce shared her "baby bump" with the world and named her child "Blue Ivy" (who has since received honorary Croatian citizenship) after a tree in Hvar.   That coupled with the Pope's preference for Hvar wines has landed this island and this town solidly on the tourist map.

We chose to come here at the end of the season, and are glad we did as it sounds like summer can be crazy.  This time of year, while a different restaurant closes every day were are here, the beautiful beaches are ours alone, and at night the streets are run not by party going tourist, but local kids and games of ball.  

We have settled back into our nuclear family and have spent our time getting caught up on work (thanks for holding down the fort!), blogs (thanks for still following along!), learning more about the complex and fascinating history of this region and planning for the next stages of our trip.   

Home sweet home. Living in a windmill.

Looking out at the setting sun, you can see the fortress in the background. At night this fortress is lit up and laying in the girls bed you look directly at it. I love when history can be learned and preserved by tourism rather than distroyed by it. That has been once of the other great things about local rentals rather than hotels, we are in a neighbor with other Croatians, our money goes to preserving this historic sit and we have a local contact always willing to help.

The never ending “entry” challenge. This medieval door proved stronger than our key. Our new key requires a series of climbing moves little one must preform to get the needed leverage. Always an adventure.

Dinner at a wonderful restaurant overlooking the town.

Beautiful architecture everywhere.

Exploring the fort on the hill.

A canon from the early 1800’s used to protect the inhabitants from invasions.

The girls were given a treasure hut around town to learn about this history on their own. Big one acting like a prisoner in the prison in the fort.

View from town.

Again, this water. This is completely unedited. I could have watched forever.

The girls have loved knitting and made this bag to carry her things.

I learned that “coffee with cream” takes on a totally new meaning in this town. A will have to do a whole other post on coffee in Croatia, it is a way of life.

Saying goodbye in Split

Despite our best efforts to slow down time, the day came when we needed to return the car, Mor-Mor and Far-Far were set to fly home and we were to move on to Hvar.  This felt like another big milestone in our year. How is it possible that a month with them has already passed? How could we be a quarter of the way done with our year?  We are just figuring out this travel. I still can't do 40 pushups, I have only read a few books. But there it is, time waits for no one and our time in Brac had come to an end.

Split has become this "home base" or transition point for us.  This time of the year ferries do not connect the islands and every time you move, need a car, fly out, we go back to Split and so we headed back to Split with Mor-Mor and Far-Far for one last day together as they prepared to go to the airport and we took a ferry to our next island.

Split has also become symbolic for me, like an onion every time we return we take off one more layer, see some new dimension to this city and this culture.  This time we spent more time in the fish markets seeing huge Yellowfin Tuna and swordfish being divided and sold, noticed the changing seasons at the green market and the fall harvest brings in more Pomegranates, Oranges, and nuts.  We explored an underground museum where we learn about the thousands of years people have lived in the city.

One last new drink for Mor-Mor to try (this time for my Italy running buddies I introduced her to the Hugo spritz which has made its way to the nicer Split restaurants), one final hug and we boarded the catamaran to Hvar waving like a 1940's movie to our loved ones.  

Just as the time of this trip is racing by, so is the time our of lives.  This month reminded me how lucky we are to have the gift of time. Three generations were able to spend a month sharing stories, adventures and experiences, a gift we will always carry with us.  

Under the Diocletian Palace in Split reflecting on history.

Swordfish and Yellowfin tuna were impressive to see. Lets just say, it didn’t encourage the kids to swim more.

Fish after fish in this ancient market. Reportedly there is a sulfur springs near the market which helps to keep the flies to a minimum.

These little guys are everywhere. You can see them in the ocean, order them baked, salted or friend in every restaurant or pick them up here in the market to make at home.

Green market nuts and seeds.

The green market full of the fall harvest.

Split Mesnica - one of the many things that lead to the girls temporarily declaring they were going to be vegetarians.

Our family on the move with everything we need (and then some)!

World travelers getting ready to see the city on their own after we leave.

Traveling light even with a full body float for the next island - you know, we only carry essential.

A final drink and goodbye after a great month.

Cutting for Stone

You can not come to Brac and not be amazed by the stone.  There are rocks and stone everywhere. Houses, fences, windbreaks, signs, jewelry, everything is made of stone.   Brac is known for its pure white limestone with very few veins or water impurities. This makes it ideal for carving, and it is more dense and durable as a limestone having similar properties to marble.   The pure white stone was used by the Roman and the buildings such as Split's Diocletian's Palace, one of the best preserved Roman structures, the parliament buildings in Vienna and Budapest and reportedly the White House.   (Although when I went to fact check our tour guide, I could find different information online stating it was used from everything from just the columns to full reconstruction after the original sandstone started to crumble).

The town of Pusisca is near one of the oldest stone quarries and has a stone mason school that has been open for over a hundred years.   The school hosts a three and four-year program that start at age 14. It is a boarding school that mainly has boys, but a few girls as well.  They teach the techniques and history of stone cutting with many students taking jobs in restoration after graduation. The school is adding an additional shop next year also to teach machine stone cutting given the change in technology but will continue to teach the hand techniques used for over 1000 years.

We got a lovely last minute tour from twin brothers who were sent to the school by their father. They grew up in mainland Croatia, and he wanted them to have some useful life skills, so chose this vocational school for them.   Our own private little tour included hands-on learning and life lessons from Far-Far (who was a woodworking teacher for his career) on the importance of eye and hearing protection. It was beautiful seeing their work, and like so many arts I had an entirely different appreciation for a water fountain when learned it would have taken a stone caver 2-3 years to complete and what went into making each stone column appear identical.  

The outside of the school was surrounded by hand cut sculptures like this one.

I really enjoyed this sculpture in the center of town. A teacher? A conversation? The minority and the majority talking through an issue?

Learning about the work of a stone mason.

We all had to give it a shot.

Little one can hit hard when she wants to.

Exploring Brać- #saturatedlife

Our olive picking days had come to an end and it was time to say goodbye to our new friends and move on to the next stage of our adventure, exploring the island of Brac.   It was time to see more as we had walked to almost everything we could within a 6-mile radius of the house. We rented a car to see the other parts of the island and put Mor-Mor and Far-Far's extensive research to the test.   

Sunsets, beaches, long runs, crazy google driving directions, hidden hermitages, donkeys, and paddle boards.  The days ran together in a stream of adventures soaking up the last days with family and the last rays of warmth as we continue to try to outrun winter.

Sunset from Vida Gora - the highest peak of all the Adriatic Islands. It was a beautiful sight to see; the endless shades for orange, pink, yellow and purple in the setting sun, our next island, Hvar, and other islands dotted the landscape. The girls played among ancient ruins. We ate a dinner of cheese, wine, bread and olive oil in the crisp climate above the ocean breezes.

The girls did a lot of the picture taking and editing during this phase our our trip. At one point they said we should call this #saturatedlife. I couldn’t think of a better name. They really like the “saturate” option on the phone, and like this picture, it has been in the reflections and editing of the events, as much as the event themselves that we have found color and meaning.

And then you turn, with no filter and there are even more colors.

Deep in conversation, these two have found a closer friendship. Here they are exploring Sutivan, olive bags full of supplies for the days’ adventure.

There in an old hermitage on Brac the Blaca Hermitage. There is no road here, but three different paths leading to site on a cliff. We had wanted to see the area, but also were not sure how to get there. Some online comments talked about trying for two or three days to find the place. A few wrong roads, crazy google directions and a series of hand painted signs we found our way to one path that lead us 1.5 miles down a beautiful valley to the Hermitage. Unfortunately, they closed earlier than the sign had said so we never got to see inside, but the walk, the history and the valley were well worth the adventure.

On our way back from the Hermitage, a donkey roadblock kept us from moving forward until we spent some quality time with our new hungery friends.

Even driving the car I was able to say hello up close and personally.

Beach time. The clear water in the Adriatic is like nothing I had experienced before. I would put my hand in for a sea urchin and find what looked like a few inches was feet away in this crystal clear water. The whole family got better at open water swimming the sun and downtime were appreciated by all.

The girls had wanted to paddle board since we arrived. This is them on Zlatni Rat “Golden Horn” beach in Bol. It was one of the few shops open as the man renting the boards said “everyone else will close, but if there is sun, I will be here all year. I like the sun, and you might rent my board, so why not, this is a good life.” It was hard to disagree.

It became fun ordering new drinks for MorMor. This is her, finding out how great a Mojito can be on a warm day at Zlatni Rat.

Ever turn we took on Brac, a new town, always out of stone had its charm, it church, an a beautiful history.

Enjoying the small surprises with the grand landscapes.

Friendship - a video

Little one made this sweet video of her and Sister and their time together on the trip.