Japan, Day 6: Kyoto - A City in Bloom

The creation of our trip began with Kyoto. It was the place we were each the most excited to visit, both from a nature and cultural perspective. We actually booked our accommodation back in September before we even booked our flights (or checked to see that Craig could get this time off work!). We were nervous that we had missed the cherry blossoms with Tokyo's starting to fall while we were there. But we soon learned that Kyoto plants many species of blossoms so that different parts of the city are in bloom for much of March and April. Our place was a block away from Nijojo castle and it was with great relief, as we trudged up to it laden with all our gear, that we could see a tree in full, glorious bloom at the corner of our street.

Our to-do list for Kyoto was so long that it took some prioritizing for our first day. Although we had budgeted six full days to wander the city, heavy rain was in the upcoming forecast so we wanted to hit the main cherry blossom spots before they were bombarded and potentially ruined. It should be no surprise to those who know us that we woke early and were on the subway headed to Tetsugako-no-michi (Philosopher's Path) before rush hour was even close to starting. We were far from alone in the early morning sun though, as many couples were out having professional photos taken along the old railway track at the Keage incline, including a few brides and grooms. We managed to steal a few shots in solitude with the gorgeous blooms. However we hadn't even planned on visiting the incline and after luxuriating under the trees for so long we did not reach the Philosopher's Path and instead turned back.

Trying to make the most of the beautiful day, we headed back out after Baby's first nap to tour the nearby castle. The grounds were stunning, as was the architecture, and Craig was able to speak to both from what he's learned from Japanese Style Originator on Netflix. The highlight was the sets of weeping cherry trees where we stopped to have a snack, and obligatory second photo shoot of the day. It was difficult to tear ourselves away from the gardens and is definitely worth a trip.

We capped off our first day in Kyoto by eating dinner out at a nearby soba restaurant. Our week ahead certainly looked promising!

Japan, Days 4-5: Tokyo - Boy and Girls in the City

When we see Tokyo in western media, it is crammed subway cars, and massive crowds crossing streets. So we couldn't go to Tokyo without getting right in the middle of things!

But before fully diving in, we decided to get the lay of the land by going to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Buildings where it is free to take the elevator to the 45th floor observatory. Baby quickly took to the height and used it as an opportunity to point out cars below. We even got a peak at Mount Fuji through the smog (though we were both too busy with Baby to get a picture). From there we wandered the streets of Shinjuku a bit before heading home for lunch.

The next day we took it up a notch, and started off at the famous Shibuya Crossing intersection. It features heavily in our favourite Japanese reality TV show opening credits 'Terrace House: Boys and Girls in the City". Although it would have been fun to see it all lit up at night, it still satisfied our desire to be right in the thick of things. Baby handled this crowd well (she did great the second time too, but more on that later).

From there, we hiked through Shibuya to Yoyogi park where a festival was taking place unbeknownst to us. So we scrapped our lunch plans and joined in and got some local beer and food truck meals. After crossing into the park proper we got a sense of just how into cherry blossoms Japan is. The entire park was covered in blue tarps topped with merry picnickers.

Nearing the end of our day's journey, or so we thought, we lazily moved along with the masses towards our destination. Once in Harajuku, it seemed to thin a bit so we headed for the shopping street, a sight we were told was a must-see.

It was a crowd like no other, similar to the end of a Flames game but with absolutely no room to move. Everyone was rushing in place; it didn't seem like anyone, the overwhelming number of tourists included, wanted to be there. Add in a hot sun, a stroller, and people continually kicking said stroller, and Erin's maternal instincts took over. Anyone who tried to cut in front of us (and therefore got too close to Baby) had better expect a wheel to the ankle or an elbow in the back, (which was, of course, followed by a frustrated but polite "Sumimasen"). Baby, normally bothered by people getting too close, was the only one of us to keep their cool.

We somehow made it through the 500 metre thunderdome only to discover that those crowds we had fought through at the park and on the street were no normal crowds, as the entire sidewalk outside Harajuku station was lined with people trying to get in or out of the station. Without needing to discuss the matter, we turned and headed back to Shibuya, one subway stop (or 20 minute walk) over. The adrenaline from the situation got us through but travel fatigue, jet lag, and protective parental instincts had us feeling more than a little drained.

It was with great relief that we collapsed into seats on the subway car. We braced ourselves for the upcoming onslaught as we approached Harajuku station. But to our surprise, no one was allowed on the train as the platform was full of angry yelling passengers unable to move up the stairs due to the massive blockage we had seen on the street.

Being the types to normally avoid crowded places, we certainly achieved our goal of feeling right in the middle of things in Tokyo. It was time to ride a bullet out of here.

Japan, Days 1-3: Tokyo - Stopping to Smell the Blossoms

Planning a trip to see the cherry blossoms can be stressful. The time of the peak bloom can vary by a week or two year to year, and one wind storm or heavy downpour can clear most of the petals from the trees. Add to this that the cherry blossom forecast is being continuously updated, so if you follow along (which we would not recommend after you have bought your tickets and booked accommodation), you might go from thinking you'll be too late, to too early, to right on time. All this to say, we were very relieved to see cherry trees in what would pass for our layperson eyes as full bloom when we began to wander Tokyo.

We walked through Ueno park and Yanaka Cemetery near our apartment and marvelled in the exuberance and calm that comes with being surrounded by so much beauty. We were especially happy to see that the playground by our flat had plenty of trees in bloom since we went there once or twice a day.

Walking was easy, even with the stroller, though we found that Google would lead us to massive staircases and give us no hints as to where we might find an elevator to an overpass. We quickly adapted and had our heads on swivels looking for the green elevator signs anytime there was an imminent threat of stairs.

On our most adventurous Tokyo outing to date, we walked to the Asakusa neighbourhood to visit a Buddhist temple, a market, and a gluten-free bakery. We had planned on going down to the river to see more blossoms, but it proved one thing too many for Baby. After grabbing a quick lunch at an Izakaya (Japanese informal pub), we caught the bus home. Baby was an especially big fan of the deep-fried tofu, and pulling everything off the table.

We were very happy that we chose this area of the city as our home-base, as it provided a peaceful respite from the bustling crowds which were to follow...

Japan, Day 0: The Dog on the Plane Goes "Woof! Woof! Woof!"

It was at an uncharacteristically reasonable hour when we headed to the airport for our flight. We were astonished to discover that Air Canada flies direct from Calgary to Tokyo and for the first time in Adventure Baby's young travel history, we wouldn't have to make any international plane transfers. We tried to reassure ourselves that this meant the journey would be easy (while in the backs of our minds knowing that sleeping outside of her crib is a struggle for our child). Of the ten and a half hours we'd be on the plane, at least half of them would be during her normal sleep hours. We prepped and planned the best we could, boarded the plane separately so she could enjoy her last few moments of freedom running around the airport, and got off to a good start. We even thought we'd managed to lull her into a nice sleepy state at her regular nap time.

But then, her little body stiffened and her head perked up. "Dog!" she shouted excitedly. Then repeatedly for the whole plane to hear, "Dog! Dog! Dog!" She pointed furiously. I looked over my shoulder and sure enough, a woman - a GROWN WOMAN was holding a stuffed dog on her lap. This would be the end of Baby sleeping on this flight. Every time she'd relax, she'd catch a glimpse of that dog over my shoulder, or remember that it was there and that she needed to show it the new toys we'd brought out for her, or the little water bottle she'd gotten from the flight attendant, or take its owner books to barter with in the hopes of triumphantly carrying Dog back to her seat (one of us stood for much of the flight so that she could have a play space). To this lady's credit, she was generous in playing with Baby, pretending the dog was wagging its tail, etc, even if she clearly would rather be sleeping herself. But man, I think the flight would have gone a lot smoother for all of us if she'd just kept that stuffy in her luggage.

All in all, the flight went fine. We arrived, went through the least efficient customs process we've ever experienced, and found our way to the train. Craig had found us a great little Air BnB close to Ueno where things were accessible but not too bustling, and we settled in.

To avoid repeating ourselves in coming posts, let's just say that the next couple of days were rough as Adventure Baby was hit with the worst jet lag she's experienced thus far. But we'd built in the extra time to take it slow in Tokyo, wander our neighbourhood looking at cherry blossoms, and tour nearby playgrounds. But more on Tokyo sites in our next posts...

Balkans Days 23-29: Sarajevo The Past

When people asked us, "Why Croatia and Bosnia?" before we left, we had a variety of reasons to share. We'd heard many say that Croatia is such a beautiful country (which is definitely true), Erin is always looking for some beach time, Craig lovely tiling and architecture (which we both got), and there was the undeniable appeal that Bosnia is more off-the-tourist track than any location we've visited since our "big trip." We really wanted to learn more about the recent history of the two countries in a deeper and more personal way than a textbook (or Wikipedia site) could manage. We're glad that we took the time to learn a bit of how the disolution of Yugoslavia impacted the cities we visited as the experience of each city and its citizens were quite different.

A Sarajevo Rose is painted on the ground
where people died from an attack.

In the three weeks leading up to our arrival in Sarajevo, our knowledge of the events here grew. We saw photos and read recounts in various museums in Dubrovnik and Mostar. We read the book The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway. We were reminded of information we already knew through media, news, etc when talking with locals and tourists. It was great to have that base knowledge before entering and it was interesting to see how our perception of the city was different from reality once we were here.

The valley was tighter, the river narrower, and the hills, where snipers and artillery were once perched, were so much closer than in our minds. It was unbelievable to think that civilians could cross the bridges so widely out in the open carrying containers of water, balancing on whatever rails were left after bombings. Shrapnel wounds frame windows and some buildings remain a hallow shell. The city has found ways to heal yet still honour its past by filling in the craters left by mortar attacks that murdered civilians with a red resin, called a Sarajevo Rose.


We joined a walking tour that focused on the Siege of Sarajevo and enhanced our understanding of what life was like here in the 44 months when daily shellings rained down on a city cutoff from itself and the outside world. Our guide, Nemo, was only a child at the time (ages 7-11). He openly shared with us his perspective of the events along with the historical facts. As we wound our way through the city, many locals stopped to listen in on what he was saying. He shared that sometimes people will yell at him as he talks, uncomfortable with his openness of his experience or worried that the facts he's sharing are coloured. We felt that he did a great job presenting things, often addressing how his experience affects the way he views the war and the current state of the country but recognizing that for others, and especially those in different cities, their experience was very different than his. It was powerful to see people our age on the street and think of what they went through while we were busy listening to walkmans, wearing scrunchies, and watching Jurassic Park.

The 1984 Olympic bobsled run

There was lots of time for quiet reflection in Sarajevo. Twice we hiked up one of the surrounding hills to reach views of the city below and the surrounding countryside, once to the Yellow Fort, and once to the Olympic bobsled and luge run. Looking out, it's hard to believe that such a tragedy took place in such a beautiful, peaceful place.

We were reminded often this week of the time we spent in another recently war-torn country, Rwanda. How was the world able to stand by and let such massacres occur? Were we unaware? Were we unsure of whether to get involved in another country's internal strife? (The Bosnia war was not a civil war as both Serbia and Croatia were involved). During our tour Nemo said that the goal of the Siege of Sarajevo was to make the living conditions within the city so bad, to create such fear and indignity, that the citizens would surrender. The tactic was carefully designed to skirt the edge of killing some people every day but not attacking so strongly that the international community would intervene. If this is true, it doesn't say a lot about us. What atrocities are going on currently that we're turning a blind eye to?

In Dubrovnik, part of the War Photograph Museum included a rotating exhibit on current conflicts and acts of human rights abuses. We saw photos of the civil war going on right now in Yemen. The numbers were staggering. In the past two years, over 10,000 civilians have been killed by this war. Civilians. In 2015 it was estimated that 850,000 CHILDREN were starving. 13 million civilians did not have access to clean water. Unicef and WHO believe that as of June 2017, a person an hour dies of cholera in Yemen. What are we doing to help? This is, of course, only one example of many.

Perhaps the most emotional stop on our guided tour of Sarajevo was at the Children's Memorial. You can tell that great thought went into this monument. A statue has been erected depicting a parent shielding their child from shelling and sniper attacks. The water bubbling beneath them represents the tears fallen for their lost children. The base of the structure is made from melted down shrapnel and casings and it's imprinted with the footprints of surviving children who lost young friends and family members during the war. The statue itself is made from 1600 layers of glass, one for each child who was murdered in the siege. A plaque off to the side shares their names from youngest to oldest. It is a beautiful piece set at the foot of a lush park. Families were gathered there to enjoy the late afternoon sun, kids chasing each other around it, riding on scooters... the perfect place for such a monument. But it shouldn't be there. It shouldn't have needed to be built at all.

At the Srebrenica Gallery, stunning black and white photos share the events that unfolded in Srebrenica in Eastern Bosnia when more than 8000 Muslim Bosniaks were murdered in ethnic cleansing in June 1995. The room, nearly silent with tourists reflecting on this event, the atmosphere heavy with grief, was brightened by our baby content to walk in circles holding on to the stroller, so close to walking consistently independently. An odd scene but one that truly shows the feeling that life moves on. We'll take what we learned and felt here back home with us, and try to find ways to make the world a better place in whatever way we can.

If you're interested in learning more about the Siege of Sarajevo or the genocide in Srebrenica, here are two books we read that helped us gain a more personal understanding of the events:
- The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway
- Bone Woman by Clea Koff

Balkans Days 23-29: Sarajevo The Present

Big backpack? Check! Baby? Check!
Bring on the 106 stairs!

We learned more and more about Sarajevo before our arrival and with each piece, our anticipation of the city grew. Arriving after an incredibly long private transfer with a driver set on delivering practically all of Mostar's mail to Sarajevo before dropping us off, left us less than impressed with our situation. Like Mostar, there wasn't time that evening to go out and explore, so looking from above at the streets below showed a town that looked nice enough. It wasn't until we ventured out the next morning that we truly began to appreciate the city.

Inside the gorgeous City Hall

Sarajevo is captivating. The old part of town consists of a number of pedestrian-only streets that stretch a great distance. Austro-Hungarian architecture blends with Ottoman influences, then with trendy and modern styles. The multicultural aspect of Bosnia's capital is felt in the variety of clothing, food, and the various places of worship (catholic and orthodox churches, mosques, and synagogues).



It was the first time on our trip that we truly felt a part of the city. This was mainly due to the fact that its oldtown area is not just one giant tourist trap. Locals live here. It's expected that you can communicate without using English. The patios of cafes, hookah bars, and restaurants are bursting with groups of Bosnians enjoying the fall weather and their beautiful surroundings and window sills and store fronts are a perfect place for a game backgammon. It didn't take long for us to realize that we loved it. It was also the first place that we felt like our frumpy travel clothes really stood out against the local fashion. Sarajevans are so stylish. Even during the siege it's recorded that women went out in their furs and heels and hair dressers did cuts for free to help people maintain their sense of dignity when they had such little control of their lives. This sense of resiliency was noticeable.

We had enough time to lesiurely take in the sights, first wandering, and then planning little exursions to get a better sense of the city, its past, and its present. We ate out more partly because the food was so tasty and affordable but also to enjoy the culture we felt we'd been missing at the many tourist restaurants we'd been affronted with in other towns. (It was also nice to not have to carry many groceries up the 106 stairs to our penthouse suite!) We visited churches, mosques, museums, the yellow fort, the Olympic bobsled track, and brandy stores. :) We stood at the corner that started World War One where the Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated. We caught spectacular views of the sunset from our windows and took in the smells of incense, wood-fired stoves, and leather. Although we were ready to go home after four weeks abroad, we were sad to say goodbye to such a charming city. If you're looking for a European destination with flair, flavour, and that isn't teeming with tourists, Sarajevo is the place for you!

Balkans Days 20-22: Mostar

The drive to Mostar from Split was stunning. Absolutely breathtaking. We hadn't really thought much about it beforehand. We'd originally planned to take a train, then discovered we couldn't and settled on a bus. A much less direct route but it was what it was.


What it was turned out to be a road that first hugged the Croatian coastline taking us by secluded bays, white pebble beaches, and a town squished between the water and a sheer mountainous facade. Then onwards into the Bosnian valleys with lolling hills and ample pastures. Our border crossing was smooth; in fact, our entire journey was very, very easy. The only difficult part was that Baby would NOT take her nap. When we finally rolled in to Mostar two and a half hours past her usual time to go down, she was barely keeping it together. But we'd made it.



Our host generously met us at the bus station and helped us with our ridiculous amount of baggage. She guided us to her parents home fondly called "The Old Lady" because they have left it intact from when her husband's grandmother used to live there. We wondered if they displayed the many heirlooms out of pride, gratitude that these little treasures had survived the war, or relief that they didn't have to store any of it in their home. The house was unique in design (at least for us Canadians). There was a private inner courtyard (that was outside) that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. Our host looked at us sceptically, repeatedly asking us if we were cold and letting us know that there had been flurries the evening before. We tried to reassure her that we were prepared - "We're from Canada. We're ready for snow."

The inside of the main mosque in the Old Town.
We climbed to the top of its miniaret for a fantastic
view of the bridge, river, and surrounding area.

The chill in the air was just one thing that felt different from Croatia. Mostar was a little grungier, less affluent, and more authentic-feeling, if that makes any sense. Dubrovnik, for example, seems very regulated. Buildings have been upkept and repaired in strict fashion to keep the mood and style of the town the same. The damage you see there can be difficult to discern whether it's wear and tear over time or specifically from the recent war. In Mostar; however, the shelling and sniper wounds on buildings were quite visible. Houses stand abandonded, sometimes only the exteriors left now with trees growing inside. We saw many people begging, usually mothers with their small children. The air hung heavier, often filled with inscense or wood-fired stoves and the call to prayer echoed in the distance.


It was too late in the day to go exploring so we attempted to settle in, comfort Baby, and have dinner. The only heater in the house was located on the first floor, with the bedrooms being above, so after many sleepless hours and lots of crying, we rearranged ourselves with Baby in the downstairs living room in case it was the coolness and not her teeth or overtiredness that were causing all the discomfort. We were able to get a few hours of sleep before she absolutely refused to be put back down at 5:30 am. We shrugged and decided to make the most of it. Bundled up more than we had been in seven months, we headed out to see the old town.

Mostar is home to the icnonic bridge that is the most recognizable Bosnian landmark. As we set out to find it, we had to thank Baby for getting us up this early. With the shops that line the cobblestone pedestrian lane leading to the bridge still shut up tight, we could better appreciate the history and architecture of the town. Only a few souls joined us that early, cameras in hand, capturing the early light on the bridge and the surrounding hillsides. We walked across and back, marvelling in its height and the fact that men dive off it into the icy river below multiple times a day for money, then headed home for breakfast.

Cevapi: traditional Bosnia food

Our next two days consisted of us trudging back and forth to the main street and bridge to admire its views, wait expectently to see a dive, eat gelato, and torture Baby with the amount of time she needed to spend in the carrier (Mostar is NOT stroller friendly!). Baby had her own goals for our time in Motar: she perfected her pronunciation of "Hi" and used it on every passing person (and pigeon and kitten) within earshot, much to the delight of the shopkeepers and tourists (and maybe the pigeons?), and accomplished a series of independent steps when she was distracted enough to not notice that she was actually walking independently.

If you zoom in really far,
you can see Craig and Baby at the top!

We never did see a dive off the bridge. We were in the vicinity multiple times and even sitting and eating lunch watching it once but both missed it while concentrating on feeding Baby and admiring the surrounding views. The whole thing is a bunch of B.S. if you ask us. Men collect money, prance around on the edge as if they're going to jump, raise their arms up like Olympic divers, clap their hands, stretch, then get back down and go into their little hut leaving their donors to either wait or give up and leave. When they finally feel they have earned enough money or when the wind feels right, or whatever their sign is, over they'll go with no notice or working of the crowd. More than once we heard a diver bereating tourists walking by, calling out racist remarks, trying to get money from them. It was a huge disappointment and could easily be improved to still gather the funds these gentlement need (and deserve for their stunt), but also leave the viewer feeling much more satisfied.


But enough about that. After many trips down to the bridge that seemed to pull us so greatly, time spent examining the various museums about the history of the bridge and Mostar and the Ottoman and Hungarian empires, we pulled ourselves away and headed to our last and much-anticipated destination: Sarajevo.