This is a longer style post. Pictures will begin to appear as you read, I promise. Here we go:
Backpacking for me has been an incredible journey of peeling off layers of stress, confused identity, reclaiming confidence, and creating a vision of my long term future. Before backpacking, I had not felt free enough to create a vision of what a future home might be for me. As an example, when my lease was ending in November 2017, before I lost my job, I experienced a rare complete mental block when coming to a decision about where to move next. I knew I did not want to stay in the West Village due to the high price and the large amount of abandoned storefronts. With my work stress (and other stresses I would only discover after backpacking for about 3 months), I was unable to be calm enough to create a vision for a better life for myself.
I had been making web sites for the first four months of my backpacking. It was not until I was on the beach in Samoa when I realized I desperately needed a full-stop break from working. I was feeling free enough at that point to make “crazy” decisions to travel to New Zealand and all over the South Pacific, but it was still quite a progression to get that far. I still found myself meeting travelers from around the world and having the basis of our conversation be complaining about work. And that was my fault. I knew that in order to grow from here, I had to close up shop. I shut down my web site-making business and took the next step in my progression to free myself from work stress. I began to experience some real ultimate freedom.
Backpacking is also different from vacation. I am not on a set schedule, mostly. I can spend a day wherever I am doing absolutely “nothing”, meaning no sightseeing or picture taking, and not feel like I missed out on anything or like it means I have to compromise from doing something else I would have wanted to do otherwise. In Croatia, I had already been backpacking six months. Traveling without a schedule, putting down my business, and having quality non-work-related conversations began to really influence my sense of freedom. My level of happiness was much clearer. My brain felt less consumed by anxiety and stress. I no longer spent in-between-moments dwelling on client emails and how to respond. Instead, I was able to start seeing a vision of where I want to be in the long term; what my house should look like and what I want to see when I look out of the window.
There are demons in my family history. My grandparents are Holocaust survivors. I did not expect my backpacking journey to take me on a mission. One of the good outcomes of the Croatia story is that I was able to focus on a mission, of sorts. This would become clearer as my time in Croatia progressed.
I would be meeting two friends who were distinctly on vacation. Also, I was not able to confirm with them that I would be able to meet them until a little more than a week before the date started starting five months earlier. I told them to go ahead and book everything without me and I would just sleep on the couch. This angered one of the friends since January. From January until May, I would question if this should be a good enough reason for me to not meet them. Why could this friend not simply be happy for me and my journey to discover my freedom? What purpose did being angry at me serve? What I did not know was that when he arrived in Croatia, he was still angry at me. I did not realize he had already deleted me as a friend on Facebook! The ultimate rejection! (I say this with some humor in my voice).
You probably want to hear about Croatia itself at this point. Well, so far, you actually have been reading about my experience in Croatia. In the five days I spent with these two friends, I had to question absolutely everything I had learned about myself in the six months prior. This blog post is an example of how you can find yourself in some of the most beautiful places in the world and get fantastic pictures but no one at home will ever know what is really happening behind the scenes. As my friends from home were becoming more frustrated with my independent behaviors, I experienced their anger and I knew that our time together probably would not end well. I was mentally prepared to push through it all the way, after all, I had made the journey from Asia to really try to make this happen, but after discovering that one of the friends was openly angry with me for six months already, I knew that any effort I made to “make this work” was futile. At the same time: I didn’t want to get a tiny rental car (after the accident in Laos, I preferred to be in a big bus when driving through mountains), I wanted to go swimming in the heat rather than hiking in the heat, and I did not feel comfortable walking around side-by-side with them. I thought it would be quite odd to see three guys standing next to each other all the time in various cities in Croatia, so when we were walking around, I created distance between us because it made me feel more comfortable. This angered them further. As I sensed the anger, I asked the less-angry friend about it, twice, and he told me I was being paranoid and I need to stop asking.
Dubrovnik
This was all happening in Dubrovnik, a city that is now completely overrun by tourists (including us). The public bus system was a nightmare. The old town was overcrowded. The prices are incredibly, incredibly inflated. 20 euros to walk along the top of the fortress walls, 20 euros for a pasta. Our Airbnb hosts were incredibly disrespectful. We would get long stares as we would walk into and out of the house. When we asked them to check the broken airconditioning, the male host came into the flat with a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth, liberally smoking inside the apartment and kitchen while verifying that, yes, the aircon was broken. In all of the hostels, hotels and Airbnbs I had stayed in around the planet, I had never experienced such disrespect for tourists. I had a very difficult time enjoying Dubrovnik with my friends because I felt like everyone had warned me not to go there because of all of these reasons and, alas, there I was.
Kotor
I did spend a few nights in Kotor, Montenegro with these fellows before I was kicked out. We had a beautiful flat in the old town with views of the mountains and the gulf (but it looks like a lake). Our host was very friendly when the three of us were together. We gave him our passports to process for some sort of special tourist tax. He told us he would be back with them by the end of the day!! Baffling, really. Because this was the day that the two guys wanted to go hiking in the heat and I had gone swimming, I was home before them and met the host to receive our passports. This is where the host tried to extort me for more money in order to get our passports back. You see, we suddenly owed him 5 more euros. I think I actually said, “What the fuck are you talking about?” After six months of backpacking, I am certainly not playing this game. I told him I did not have any money and I took the passports out of his hand. He never did ask us for that money again, you should know. I think perhaps there was a special tax for tourists who stay inside the old town of Kotor and he neglected to factor this cost into the price of the Airbnb? Regardless, this must be either disclosed on the Airbnb listing or disclosed during check-in time and in absolutely no terms may our passports be used as part of a trade to receive more income. Once again, I had never experienced a place where a host needed to take my passport away from me for more than, maybe, one minute.
It is also worth mentioning that the toilet at this flat had major issues flushing. You know, the one thing that toilet is meant to do. Like after a flush, you cannot flush again for 30+ minutes. When we checked out and were asked how the stay was, I said to the same host that attempted to extort us that the toilet was broken. He questioned me about my description. I looked at my friend, who was unwilling to back me up on this, and I told him that if the toilet does not flush and refill the tank it is unusable and therefore broken. I said it in a frustrated and unhappy way. I did not fake a smile. I refused to believe that the toilet had suddenly broke from our usage and that he was unaware of this issue.
You have to imagine, as this is all happening, I am questioning why I am putting myself through this, why I’m surrounding myself with people who aren’t happy for me, how the decisions that I’m making can be twisted to the extent that my friends are feeling that I’m betraying them and what if all of the freedom and love I was beginning to understand was actually false because my friends from home, one that I have known for 17 years, could not even understand or appreciate me. So, alas, the long-term friend was angry at me now. Why was he angry at me too? He revealed that the particular tone I took with our Airbnb hosts was offensive to him and could potentially ruin his guest credibility on Airbnb. He felt that with the way I talked to the Dubrovnik host smoking the cigarette in our flat about the broken aircon and the way I told the Kotor host about the broken toilet was rude and unnecessary. In this journey I’ve been on, I have become more comfortable expressing anger and frustration where I feel that I am being cheated and treated unfairly. I express myself this way to save other tourists and backpackers of the future from having to experience the same unfairness. (Someone needs to stand up and say something and I’m ok with doing that where it is warranted.) Eventually, I was told I was “ruining their vacation” and was given an “option” to leave and return to being on my own. With the option presented (and no other alternative options presented, mind you) I promptly got up and left.
My friendship was ended because of my attitude in these situations. What I interpreted as freedom and confidence, my former buddies interpreted as selfishness and rudeness. I was viewing my year of travel as an opportunity to confront and discover culture head-on and my buddies viewed this as a 10 day leisure holiday. We were in completely different places mentally. I had tried to discuss this on the phone with one of the friends before the trip to align each other’s expectations. I was falsely led to believe that the buddies would be able to see me as a backpacker. That unfortunately would not come to be as they were unable to do that; they have stressful New York jobs, obligations at home and a tight schedule. I am not angry at them for not being able to change the way they see me. I do wish that when I had asked if they were angry at me, before I was dismissed, that we could have had an adult conversation about it. Instead, I think my buddies did not have the same freedom of mind to engage me in such a serious conversation. In the same way they were unable to view me as a backpacker on a journey, they were unable to engage me in a serious conversation about “what’s really going on”. They opted for the quick rejection that we men are so good at doing.
Hvar
After this, I took a boat to the island of Hvar where I checked into a hostel on top of a hill with mountain and ocean views. I was again in a place where I knew I would feel comfort. My readers know, I like to go into the mountains. I immediately felt the love of the backpacker culture at this hostel. The place had benches on the patio facing the mountains so that, if you wanted, you could spend all day just looking at the mountains… which I did. It did not take me too long to get over the situation described above. I had a great roommate who told me the story of meeting his wife in the Peace Corps. He now works for a Brooklyn-based non-profit providing medical services in developing countries. Stories like these are so incredibly inspiring. Feeling the love at the hostel in Hvar felt right. It was the strong reminder I needed that I am a loving person and I have a choice to surround myself with love. If I force myself into situations where I do not feel love, I risk feeling the affects of stress, depression and anxiety.
Hvar is a funny place. The nightlife scene is insane in a bad way. Euro-teens from all over the continent packed into clubs where they drink and then throw the glasses on the floor! There was shattered glass littering the floor of the clubs! I’ve never seen anything like this. During the day, the beach (filled with rocks) was packed with tourists. I opted for the hotel pool, which I have become very good at sneaking into. It seems in Europe, as long as you buy a drink, they do not really care if you use the hotel pool. Maybe I’m not really sneaking into them but I feel like I am?
Split
From Hvar, I traveled to Split. The Dioclecian Palace is absolutely worth seeing. The city is large so it does not feel terribly crowded with tourists. Amazingly, I bumped into my backpacker friends Shannon and Dave who I had met in Fiji! Shannon runs The Wild Hideaway blog! I hiked during the day and at night I walked all along the edge of the coast and took the night shot above.
Zagreb
After experienced the incredibly touristic Dubrovnik, Kotor, Hvar and Split, I decided to into the mainland of Croatia and spend a few days in Zagreb. I’m so glad I did. Finally, I would get to meet real Croatians who are not just angrily catering to tourists all day. Zagreb has regular prices for food. It was hot during the day but by late afternoon would have a cool rain, making for a comfortable night’s sleep. I would tour around the city admiring the architecture and the tram system. I went up the hill to view the famous cemetery and noticed a adjacent mixed cemetery that had gravestones of Jews as well as Gentiles. This would be a foreshadowing of my cemetery experience in Poland.
I left Croatia feeling quite glad that I got to experience beach, lake, mountains and capital city. The day trip to Slidovice Lakes to get out into the Croatian countryside are an insanely overpriced $50 entry fee. This unfortunate truth represents the worst part about the touristic experience of Croatia. Since the locals have found this consistent cash stream, it seems they are not interested in the human connections and positive effects of globalization that can come from a vivid touristic enterprise. They have a war torn history, riddled with instability. For the first time in a long time, they are seeing consistent cash flow and they like it. I did not get too many smiles from locals in Croatia and Montenegro and that’s a shame. I accept that Croatia and Montenegro are beautiful and many people enjoy vacations there. I am not on vacation and I am looking to experience culture.
Conclusion
I accepted that I was not going to be let in to authentic Croatian culture and that I would be viewed as a permanent outsider. I accepted that I was also different from my two former friends from home. I began to get to another level of freedom. I began to feel free enough from this separation from my friends to do something that I thought I would never do. For some reason, this next level came to me like a pinnacle of light. Whatever the right metaphor is, it was screaming at me in my face. When I would look on the map of where I want to go next, there was no question about it. I absolutely must go to Poland. I need to see where my grandparents are from and I need to find their birth certificates.
The whole story with the two former buddies made me incredibly sensitive to meeting friends while traveling. I thought it would be so wonderful to meet up with as many friends as possible in Europe, especially the ones I know from home, as they take their summer holidays. At the same time, if they were going to be on a tight schedule and end up meeting up with me and I’m in this totally free-blissful state, I could not handle a rinse-and-repeat of what happened in Dubrovnik (see beginning of essay). I had thought about flying through Rome to meet up with two more friends from New York who would be there, but we were not able to connect enough to have the requisite phone conversation about “where we are at in our lives”. I needed to be able to hear that they could accept me as a backpacker if we chilled or maybe they would tell me this is actually a romantic holiday for them and they just want to meet for dinner (in which case, it wouldn’t be worth the 100 euro cost to fly there). We couldn’t make the conversation happen, so I took it as a sign that it would be better to just see these friends in New York. Instead, I took a direct flight from Croatia to Warsaw and started an in depth journey about the history of my family.