Solo travel

It always happens when I am recounting a recent escapade to what some of my friends call an 'exotic' location. Maybe it's the enthusiasm that lends itself to my stories or the sparkle in my eyes that glues them to what I'm saying, because it is then that they raise the question: 'when are we travelling together?'

Suddenly the excitement and passion with which I had relived my foreign experiences dissipates. I find myself lost for words and offer a meek, 'yes we should do it sometime'. Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I don't like company during my escape from the island; it's just that solo travel has opened up so much more. It feels like an epiphany, and I have some friends to thank for that.

One, for example, was very keen on going to China's Xinjiang province in mid-2011. But because ballooning airfares were making the trip increasingly impossible, we changed destinations. Several times. It's 2013 and we have yet to travel together.

Up until 2011, I was content with admiring Nari for her ability to just pack her bags and fly off where she desired. What made it all the more incredible, for me at least, was the fact that she's petite and a girl! I'm not sexist but it did make me think: if she can do it, why not me?

Of course there's the initial apprehension about going it alone: will I get bored, how do I bring myself to eat alone, and -- more importantly -- who's going to take photos of me (especially if you, like me, are one of those who thinks sticking your arm out and aiming the camera at your face is absolutely silly)? As cliched as it is, and like everything else, you won't know until you try solo travel. And the results can be quite surprising.

Travelling alone makes you your own master! You choose how long to take in one place -- you can linger for days, or run off after half an hour. You let everything take its time to slip into your skin -- the sights, the smell, its taste. You make conversation with other people because at some point you simply have to -- be it with the barista in a cafe or a fellow traveller -- think the Ethan Hawke/Julie Delpy starrer, Before Sunrise (1994).

During my solo trips, I've couchsurfed a number of times. The people I met were absolutely amazing and they added so much more to my overall experience, whether it was discovering an un-touristy part of Krakow with Maciek, or walking into an Argentine-run cafe in some corner of Barcelona with Cesar. There's so much more you learn about people, their city and their country when you live with, or simply share some time with them. Conversely, they learn a little more about you too. In Kyiv, Ivan and his friends were amused that they had to zoom in several times before Singapore showed itself in its full glory on Google maps. I still remember the looks on their faces as I described the island's population density.

Above all, travelling alone takes you to that one place no one else has access to: your self. You learn so much more about who you are, what you're capable of. Afraid of getting lost? Can't speak the language? Too bad. Learn how to communicate with your hands, a pen and paper, or your body. Outside the Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland, I was a second away from choo-chooing around the bus stop after several attempts to get directions to the train station were going nowhere.

Solo travel for me allows me to break out of my shell, even if by a whisker. I consider doing things I ordinarily wouldn't (mostly legal of course) back in Singapore. I'm generally not a very sociable person,  I prefer to stick to people I've already established relationships with. But when push comes to shove, I surprise even myself. In Ljubljana, I met Luka for a road trip after we'd exchanged some messages online. He had suggested showing me Bled, an alpine town about an hour and a half away from the Slovenian capital. I jumped at the opportunity (he had a car so...). I saw another side of the country, and I made a new friend.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and this is true when you're alone on the road. It makes you re-evaluate your relationships with those who matter. Something or the other triggers a memory and takes you back to someone you said goodbye to. The same goes for the country or city you were so eager to leave. You return to it with a new pair of lenses. You add something new, good or bad, to how you perceive that which you always thought familiar.

Most times, none of this would be possible with travelling companions. They distance you from such experiences. You end up being cocooned in your little universe, characterized by checking tourist sites off your list and freezing them in your camera. You could couchsurf with your travel buddy too, but more often than not, especially if you're from Singapore, this option is deemed to be unsafe.

Sometimes it's justified of course because you could easily meet nutcases. But this is where discretion comes into play. If the person you talk to online is giving you bad vibes, you obviously don't go looking for trouble. There was this one fella I was talking to from Prague and it emerged that we're both fans of Converse sneakers. Except in his case, it was not just about collecting or wearing them (I'll leave it to your imagination). Less threatening problems include long layovers at airports. I spent 12 hours between flights at Doha's airport in late 2011. Not something I would want to repeat in a very long time.

The most uncomfortable thing about solo travel for me is pulling out of a city. It is in those final moments that everything tries to hold me back. The seconds slip out of my fingers and it feels as if something has been left undone. It is during this time I wish I could spend more time with the people I've met. Before I boarded my train to Budapest from Cluj-Napoca's railway station, I expressed regret to Luci that I had not gotten to know him better (he was at work for the most part of my time in the city). It was then he said something I have always lived by, and had perhaps forgotten at that point:
there's always a next time.

Indeed. There's always a next meeting, always another adventure to be had.



Postscript: this entry was published on 24th July 2013 on The Hindu's Business Line

Coastal Croatia

To be completely honest, I used to think the old-school tourism commercial for Croatia that I used to chance upon on the BBC was cheesy. The ad claimed Croatia is 'the Mediterranean as it once was'. Really!

In Trogir

Yet there was something that drew me to this country. Maybe it was its name, or that a friend had been there before and raved about it. Or it was simply the fact that a routine scan of airfares on some airlines' websites made it possible to visit this country by the Adriatic Sea.

Whatever the reason, I found myself along the Croatian coast in April 2012 as part of a broader trip to the region. My trip took place during the low season but that did not really dampen the experience. If anything, I was to find out that it made for easier access and navigation. The only downside to it was that I did not get to visit the islands for which the country is famous, and this was because of the lower frequency of boat rides to and from such places like Hvar and Krk (and more importantly, my refusal to zip from one place to the next with what little time I had). Having said that, the cities boast some postcard-pretty sights and winding alleys that should keep you busy for a few hours, if not full day trips.

Zadar

Filmmaker Alfred Hitchcock was on holiday here once and described the sunset he saw in the horizon as the most beautiful in the world. It is a claim that was echoed by some locals I spoke to, and I must say they're not very far off from the truth. Of course it's quite another matter if you consider people who wax lyrical over sunsets pathetic. In which case, you might want to check out one of the following:

Sunset as seen from Zadar

St Donat's Church (above, right): one of the best preserved pre-Roman buildings in the world.
Sea Organ (below, right): This man-made organ works with the motion of the waves and 35 pipes to create a musical soundscape. Sounded like a whale singing to me.

Museum of Ancient Glass: This museum has what's been described as the most outstanding exhibits and the greatest collection of ancient glass in this part of Europe.

Sibenik

Sibenik as seen from
St Michael's Fortress

Cathedral of St James (right)
in Trg Republike Hrvatske

This medieval city is often bypassed for its more famous neighbours, but Sibenik is lovely in its own right. You'll find steep backstreets and ancient chapels compactly packed in this part of northern Dalmatia. There's also the Cathedral of St James, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, whose most unusual feature is the frieze of 71 heads on the exterior walls of the apses. They may look like caricatures but are actual depictions of people from the 15th century (left). Apparently the cathedral cost quite a bomb, and it's said that the stingier the donor, the gross their caricature!

Sibenik is also home to the St Michael Fortress, which offers fantastic views over the city, the Krk River and the Adriatic Sea (click! click!). Parts of the structure date back to the 13th century.

North of Sibenik is the Krka National Park, similar to the Plitvička  Lakes National Park. The one in Krka offers you breathtaking scenery of waterfalls and all else nature has to offer. Some historical and archaeological remains can also be found here.

Trogir

a street in Trogir

The showcase of Trogir:
Cathedral of St Lovro

Tiny Trogir is on the UNESCO World Heritage List as one of the best preserved medieval towns in Europe. The medieval core is surrounded by walls and comprises a preserved castle and tower and a series of homes and palaces. These are from the Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance and Baroque periods. The most important sites include the 15th century Fortress Kamerlengo. It hosts concerts during the Trogir Summer festival.

Split

The bell tower in
central Split

Reading at the foot of
St Duje's Cathedral, Split

Split is in Central Dalmatia. It was originally built around the Diocletian palace where locals sought refuse centuries ago. Within this UNESCO World Heritage Site you'll find the Cathedral of St Domnius and its iconic belltower (left), a couple of museums, Roman walls and temples. 

Split harbour

Split is also famous for housing the Galerija Meštrović, which displays the works of the Croatian sculptor. I did not get to see it though because the gallery was closed at the time of my visit. There's another such museum in Zagreb. 

view of the Old Town and Lokrum Island
from the City Walls

Dubrovnik

The Old Town as seen from
my guesthouse

Then there's Dubrovnik, images of which are splashed virtually everywhere that Croatia is advertised. The city is marble streets, baroque buildings, and an endless stream of tourists frantically freezing virtually every inch of the Old Town in their cameras.

A dwelling in one of the
streets in the Old Town

The entire area is closed off to cars and surrounded by thick defence walls. You can walk around the walls for a fee (the main entrance and ticket office is by the Pile Gate, but you can also make the ascend from Ploce Gate in the east). I went at around opening time and had the walls mostly to myself. I finished the walk in about an hour, but I suppose if you go during a busier period, especially in summer, it may well take a much longer time. Stroll, too, along the main street, Placa, or as it's commonly known, Stradun, the Old Town's pedestrian promenade. I was told that in summer it becomes very difficult to walk down this stretch without being elbowed or rubbed against someone else.

Cavtat's promenade

Dubrovnik was the target of bombardment during the Yugoslav Wars of the 1990s, and if you'd like to get a sense of this slice of history, take a peek at War Photo Limited , a photo gallery curated by a photojournalist who worked in the region in the 1990s. Note though that the gallery is closed between November and April.

the harbour at
Cavtat

If the crowds of Dubrovnik get too much for you, hop on a bus and head down to Cavtat, which is a lot less touristy. This little town oozes charm and grace. In terms of sights, there are the baroque St Nicholas Church and the birth house of Vlaho Bukovac, Cavtat's most famous son, at the northern end of Obala Ante Starcevica.

Getting around

The coast is well-connected by buses (and ferries) which leave for each destination mentioned here almost hourly. You can also get buses from these cities to other parts of Croatia (including the capital Zagreb) and neighbouring destinations like Mostar in Bosnia-Hercegovina (from Split and Dubrovnik). There are airports in Split, Dubrovnik and Zadar. The cities are also served by trains though buses are a better bet.

The cities are also good jump off points for some of Croatia's famed islands. These include:

Between us

Pag and Kornati from Zadar
Hvar, Brać and Vis from Split
Mljet, Korćula and Lokrum from Dubrovnik

Best time to visit

Summer is where all the action is! But if you prefer it to be less crowded, visit during the shoulder months (April, Oct, Nov).

How many days

Dubrovnik, Split and Zadar can keep you occupied for a day. I'd suggest spending at least a night as well. I'd set aside 2-3 days each in Split and Dubrovnik which was a bit too much, which is why I made trips to Sibenik, Trogir and Cavtat. I spent on average half a day in each place but it ultimately depends on your individual preference.

80 Rupees

This piece was first written on 25th March 2010


In a span of an hour and a half, the brown faces at the bus stand at Fatehpur Sikri were replaced with foreign ones, mostly Caucasian. One had been pacing up and down even before we got there.

The bus may have met with an accident, the guy at the nearby cafe told us. He suggested we round up eight people to share a cab which would cost under Rs 100 each (about 2-3SGD at the time). Another group of eight had disappeared under a similar arrangement.

The other option was to simply keep waiting for a bus that would cost Rs 27. But what if none arrived? How much more would it cost to take a cab on our own?

There were seven of us: my mum, an Irish woman, a trio of Koreans (2 girls and a guy), and a Caucasian man and woman. The same guy at the cafe was most eager to help us, considering the cab arrived within minutes of the end of his phone call. This sounds like a scam, I thought to myself.

The cab, as he called it, was a 6-seater -- one in front, 3 in the middle and two at the back, where a spare tyre meant you'd have to sit in a somewhat squatting position. A French couple, whom I didn't approach to be part of our road trip, were the first ones to sit themselves in the van. I couldn't find the words to tell them to get out, and no one else seemed to bother. What this meant was that the Caucasian woman who was to be part of the group had to be left behind. The Irish woman we'd approached had to squeeze with the two Korean girls (with the spare tyre). Because of this inconvenience, she was asked to pay Rs 50, as opposed to the 90 the rest of us were asked to fork out. I was not entirely pleased with what had transpired, and the other passengers made no effort to be discreet about their scathing remarks about the situation they were in. 'This is India', someone seemed to suggest.  

Fast forward to Agra's Idgah bus station: I pulled myself out of the vehicle after having my butt cheeks spread thinly between the passenger and driver's seats. The French couple were the first to pull out two fifty rupee notes and place them in the driver's palm. Thinking the rate had been brought down to 50 per person, the rest of us followed suit.

As we were leaving, the driver held us back, asking for the remaining amount. I realised then that it was indeed only 50 for the Irish woman. We called the French couple back and explained the situation. The man said they were not paying more. The rest of us, who had agreed to make up the difference, were thrown off-guard. Even the Irish woman started getting into a fit on our behalf (I don't understand why she decided it was her business to).

So what next? I was the only person the driver could speak Hindi with and he asked me to help him out. But what was I to do? The others were still standing around, but by this time the prevailing mood was not to take out more money and there was no way I would pay for everyone.

At some point my mum thought I was being harassed into making the difference and told me to leave. But what about everyone else? I started walking into the mass of people and traffic, and told the others to leave. My mum and I shuffled away and hopped into an autorickshaw to go to the railway station.

We did not look out of the three-wheeler. What happened to the others, I will never know. But sitting in the auto, I felt disgust for the French couple. More than that, my mum and I felt horrible for having cheated the driver. How much value did those 80 rupees add to our lives that evening, I asked myself later? But things had happened so fast. There was almost no time to think rationally.

Does cheating someone and then feeling bad about it make it less wrong? Your take on this is as good as mine. But how do you forget a poor man pleading with you for his rightful share, and the look on his face searching for an answer in yours?

His name was Premchand

This piece was first written on 21^st March 2010

The train was waiting at the platform from as early 1620hrs. We’d actually made it on time to Kalka after a slow descent from Shimla on the toy train, considering the Himalayan Queen left the mountain town 25 later minutes than scheduled.

It was soon to be a 6-hour ride in the second sitting compartment to New Delhi. My mum and I settled ourselves into our seats next to the window. Actually, I was to rest my butt along the aisle because we were to have someone in the middle. A quick look at the passenger list next to the train door before we’d boarded gave us an idea of who was going to be our t ravel companion: a man named Premchand. I did not not take note of his age, which was likely printed in the very next column. All the name gave us was an indication of what the seating arrangement was to be like, and fodder for my often fertile imagination.

I got busy trying to figure out which one of the men climbing into the compartment might be Premchand. I pictured him to be someone mature. Then again, he could have easily been a young man with a moustache in a neatly pressed shirt and pants. But the number of elderly men that kept coming in began to chip away at this image.

Could it be this old man, with snow-white hair with glasses perched on his relatively sharp nose? Or the friend of the family sitting behind us, whom we’d seen loitering around on the platform earlier? I just hoped it would not be the man standing near the door whose mobile phone conversation was no longer secret.

At 1650hrs, the train started pulling itself out of the station as lazily as the sun was being swallowed up by the horizon. But where was Premchand, I turned and asked my mum? Could he have missed the train by a whisker (maybe he was dragging heavy bags)? What if someone else hops on and tries to claim his seat? Should I save it for him? But how do you do something like this when you don’t even know who it is you’re helping? My mum pointed out that he might be boarding at a later station. Fair enough (I don’t know why this thought had not crossed my mind in the first place).

A stop or two later, a man in a white shirt calmly squeezed past a group that was trying to get off the train. He had glasses on, and a moustache. Planting himself comfortably next to me, he gave himself all but two seconds before turning to me to ask for my seat number (I was in his seat). Before I could finish explaining my trespass, he understood that the lady next to the window and I were travelling together. ‘No problem,’ he said, before whipping out his mobile phone to inform someone at the other end that he had gotten into the train. At this point, I turned to my mum, and as discreetly as possible, pointed my right index finger in his direction: ‘Premchand!’

Akhirnya ke Bromo juga (finally made it to Bromo)!

The first time I came across Mount Bromo was on a postcard I'd bought in West Java during a school trip in 1996. I remember being fascinated by the extraordinary image on the card. But at that time, there was no definite desire to ever visit the volcano and I suppose this was partly because I'd been disappointed by Tangkuban Perahu, another fiery mountain near Bandung which we made a trip to (it did not look like a 'conventional' volcano to me).

Fast forward 12 years and I found myself staring at Mount Merapi near Yogyakarta, smack in the middle of the 2006 and 2010 eruptions. The problem with Merapi was that it was in a bad mood for the most part of my trip to Central Java.

We drove from one location to the next in the hope of getting clear views of the mountain, which we eventually did at the Kaliurang lookout point. Merapi offered itself for scrutiny for all of 10 minutes. As it rumbled gently and breathed smoke, the volcano slowly drew the clouds hovering nearby to conceal it from view. What if it erupts right now, I wondered...

A fleeting urge to see Mount Bromo germinated sometime around here. But as the attraction grew, so too did the obstacles: two eruptions in 2010 and 2011, and roadblocks in the planning phase. Sometimes it was a matter of not being able to sync free time with a travel companion, otherwise it was the impulse to fly somewhere else. And even after having flown into Surabaya and getting into the nearby town of Malang, things looked less than certain because our hotel, which was helping us arrange the tour, informed us that no more jeeps were available for the drive around the Bromo-Tengger-Semeru National Park.

Bromo-Tengger-Semeru as seen from the viewpoint
at Mount Penanjakan

the bubbling caldera

But as the cliche goes, all's well that ends well and every bit of inconvenience was worth it: the wait, the little sleep (if any) I got before pushing off for the National Park at 1.30am, and being thrown around the jeep every now and then. As we snaked our way down a neighbouring mountain, I fell into slumber, contented.

the lunar landscape as caught
on the way up to Mount Bromo

How to get there?
The closest airport is at Surabaya. The city is well-connected by regular domestic flights and can be reached via some regional countries including Singapore and Malaysia. Surabaya is also accessible by train from Jakarta, Bandung and Yogyakarta.

To the park

villages dot the landscape on the left

There are three routes and the one from Probolinggo is by far the most common. The other two are from Pasuruan and Malang. I'd suggest asking your hotel/hostel or tour agencies around these places to help you with arrangements. My transportation was organised by a friend who lives in Malang. Make queries too about specific travel plans. For example, if you want to a return ride to Probolinggo or travel onwards to Surabaya or some place else. The car rental services usually have no qualms taking you to a different location you started out from, but it's best to settle the price beforehand to avoid any unpleasant situations. Note though that the car from one of these towns take you to a transfer point somewhere up on Mount Penanjakan for a jeep which will take you further up and to Mount Bromo afterwards. Also, how much you pay for your transport arrangements depends on how many people you make the trip with. If you're alone, try asking around at the hostel/hotel if anyone else is heading Bromo's way.

The vast plain that is the Sea of Sand, where the volcano sits

Generally, your tour should be something like this:

1 or 2am: push off from your hotel/hostel, depending on where you are
4ish: reach Mount Penanjakan where you wait for sunrise. It gets pretty crowded up here so please do not, under any circumstance, expect to be isolated from the world while watching this spectacle of nature.
5ish: sun comes up, cameras click away ad nauseam.

Contemplating the scene before me

The jeep takes you down Mount Penanjakan towards the volcano once you're ready to pull yourself away from the lookout point. By the way, visit times are restricted to 7am-5pm.

Apart from the volcano..

panorama, with Mount Semeru dominating the frame

If you have your own transport, you can easily reach the Madakaripura Waterfall. There are seven waterfalls here (some of them drop over the access path during the wet season so bring an umbrella). Legend has it that bathing in the waters is an elixir of life. The water is regarded as holy by the Tenggerese and is used in their important ceremonies.

The Poten: a Tenggerese Hindu temple that sits in the Sea of Sand close to Mount Bromo. It's open only during prayer services.

Things to take note of
It can get quite chilly up (temperatures hover around 10 deg C) so bring something to keep you warm.


More importantly, Mount Bromo is an active volcano so do check its status before planning your trip.

The first time..

Before I left Singapore, I'd been getting word from Zagreb that snowfall was forecast for the coming days. I was in a bit of a panic: how much snow would there be? Do I need to pack more clothes? More importantly, will I withstand the cold?

Regular checks on the weather assured me otherwise. The mercury would not dip below 7 deg C for the most part. Plus, since I've experienced temperatures around that figure, it shouldn't be too unbearable. When I got into Zagreb, it was 15 deg C. Perfect.

The very next day was dulled at around 5 deg C, and it rained in Belgrade the day after that. On the third day, I decided to go out for a walk at around 7am because I could not sleep anymore and breakfast was only going to be served about 2 hours after that. I stepped out of the building into a chilly street, eyes darting this way and that, before I turned the corner to walk down the slope in the direction of Kalemegdan Fortress. Very quickly I fixed my gaze to something floating in the air. The faint white specks themselves looked confused as they fell erratically and disappeared as immediately as they appeared. What is this, I asked myself as I took slow measured steps. I looked around me and it seemed it was only I who was disoriented. This is it, I beamed -- snow! I ran back to my room in the hostel to add another layer of clothing (I'm sure if I had run down the stairs afterwards any sooner my vacation would have taken a dramatic turn). Back on the street minutes later, I walked calmly with a regular pace. It's only snow, nothing extraordinary to be excited about. But the child in me was thrilled, of course! I tried several times to capture the sight with my camera but the white stuff was too mild. The next best chance was when a blizzard occurred while I was walking along Knez Mihailova Street, but I did not want to risk damage to my camera.

When I returned to the hostel, the receptionist look at me in complete shock.
'Where were you?'
'Oh, I'd gone for a walk!' I beamed.
She raised her eyebrows. 'In the snow?'
'Yes! It was my first time!' It would not be an exaggeration to suggest that she was disgusted. 'I'm sorry,' I continued, 'it's just that I come from a city where the average temperature is 30-33 deg C virtually every day of the year.'
She looked at me as if to say 'that's no excuse', but finally said: 'Please take me back with you!'

Post script: I may not have managed to take pictures of snow in Belgrade, but I had ample opportunity to do so in Timişoara, Romania. Attached below is one such photo.

the snow settles for a bit and the pigeons come out to socialise at Piaţa Victoriei

Destination Zagreb

 

panoramic shot of the Upper Town (Kaptol area) 



Think Croatia and almost instantly, the image that comes to mind is that of islands and the coast. Mention 'Zagreb' and chances are you'd get someone scratching his/her head wondering why anyone would go there (that is, if they even know where it is). But having been there twice, I'm happy to report that the Croatian capital has its own share of things to see. For instance, Zagreb has some fine museums, with several of them located in Gornji Grad (Upper Town). The following are some of the ones I personally liked:

Museum of Broken Relationships (Ćirilometodska ulica 2): People drift away after relationships end, but what about the things that bound them together--letters, gifts, etc? This museum is a mausoleum to love lost. Some have funny stories attached to them, others lean toward insanity, and then there are a few which might just break your heart. This museum was the winner of the Kenneth Hudson Award 2011 for the most innovative museum in Europe, and I highly recommend it.

Meštrović Atelier (Mletačka 8): The former home of Ivan Meštrović now houses about a hundred of his sculptures, drawings, lithographs and furniture over three levels. A similar museum is located in Split, and his works are also to be found in parts of the former Yugoslavia.

Museum Mimara (Roosveltov Trg 5): Here lies the diverse private art collection of Ante Topić Mimara. He donated over 3,750 objects to the city of Zagreb even though he spent much of his life in Salzburg, Austria.

Other attractions

St Mark's Church (left): This 13th century structure is Zagreb's most emblematic building. As you walk towards the church from the direction of the Museum of Broken Relationships along Ćirilometodska ulica, you'll see the church's colourfully-tiled roof. They make out the coat of Zagreb and Triune Kingdom of Croatia, Slavonia and Dalmatia. 

Dolac Market (below): This place has been heaving with activity since the 1930s and traders from all over Croatia come here to sell their products. Snoop around for locally produced honey, handmade ornaments, and delicious food. 

Old Town Gate, at the top of Radićeva street (Upper Town): It is now a shrine to the Virgin Mary. You can light a candle here and (locals believe) your wish will be granted. But do remember to maintain silence, even if you're only passing through.

Trg Josipa Jelačića (right): This is Zagreb's main square and a common meeting point. Being part of the pedestrian zone, it is mostly inaccessible by car but most tram lines through the city stop here. The square also features the equestrian statue of ban Josipa Jelačić. It commemorates his battle against Hungary in the Revolution of 1848.




part of the fountain outside the Cathedral

 Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary (left) at Kaptol Square: Coming from the airport, the twin spires come into view even before you reach the city centre. Construction began in the 13th century and the structure underwent reconstruction in the neo-Gothic style around the turn of the 20th century following an earthquake in 1880. Do remember to dress appropriately if you want to enter.
\

Zagreb's Green Horseshoe: If you look at a map of the Lower Town, you'll notice a green U-shape extending from the Croatian National Theatre from one side, to the Gallery of Modern Art and Archaeological Museum on the other. This green space was the brainchild of an urban thinker by the name of Lenuci at the end of the 19th century. It takes in several squares in the city (including Trg Maršala Tita and Trg Kralja Tomislava). Along the way you'll pass gorgeous Art Nouveau buildings, the Strossmayer Gallery of Old Masters and the iconic Regent Esplanade Hotel (above), which was built next to the train station in 1924 to welcome the Orient Express crowd in style.



a stretch of the Green horseshoe along
Trg Kralja Tomislava

 Getting In
Air: You have Croatia Airlines which flies you to major European cities such as Amsterdam, Paris and London, Qatar Airways to international destinations via Doha and Turkish Airlines via Istanbul. Air France and Lufthansa also have flights from Paris and Frankfurt respectively.

Train: Connections include neighbouring cities such as Ljubljana and Belgrade, and other major points in Europe including Zurich, Munich and Vienna. 

Bus: By far the most reliable if you're travelling around the region to cities such as Sarajevo, Belgrade and parts of the Croatian coast.

When to go
I went in March and April, but if you don't like spring (or a period when winter hijacks the season as happened during my 2013 trip), I suppose a better bet would be going between late May and early October. High season is between June and September.

How many days
Depending on what you'd like to see, really. If you're a museum junkie, 4-5 days would be good. The same duration would be good if you'd prefer to do day trip(s) out of Zagreb. Otherwise, I'd say 3 full days if you decide to pick and choose.

Currency
Croatia uses the 'kuna' (Kn). The country will join the European Union in July 2013, but there won't be a change to its monetary unit (yet).

Read!
Nobody's Home by Dubravka Ugrešić
Trieste by Daša Drndić