..............JOY IN CROATIA.............

Until we somehow get back to the magic of Croatia, we will have to hold in our memories the taste of that ice cream. I have never known better, and Sam agrees. It's very similar to a gelato, but creamier, sweeter, and oh so luscious. We all felt the same way.

As many Youngsamwise fans know, Sonja was offered the opportunity to teach a Yoga class in Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. Because Paul could not get away from work for the first week of the trip, Sam's grandma and grandpa accompanied Sonja and the boy on the flight, and for the first week in the town. Prior to leaving JFK, of course I couldn't resist adding another photo to my collection of exotic diaper-changing locations.

We discovered that the apartment Sonja had been given was not only 100 steps from the studio, but sat on old Zagreb's central square, Trg Bana Jelaicica. From here, everything that Zagreb had to offer was essentially within walking distance. Our arrival and the subsequent day there is a good example of this. Here I quote from Mary's notes:

Sonja went to take a class at the Studio and Sam, Kim, and I wandered around Zagreb. We got the most wonderful vegetarian pizza ($4) and Kim got lots of meat [note: as an unabashed meat eater, someone who does not like things like condiments, greens, tomatos dressing up the sandwich, Croatia was heaven. Big pocket bread, stuffed with lots of meat things. Nothing else. Naked meat and bread. mmmmmm]. Kim and I slept until noon and Sam until 1pm, effectively ridding ourselves of jet lag. Then, while Sonja went to the Studio for a photo shoot, we took the funicular up to the oldest part of the town. [Sam loved the train/cable car thing, not surprisingly. His fascination with trains in general became a kind of ecstasy with the Zagreb variety. Funiculars, trams, toys, street curb rides...]

We then climbed a tower where we could see all of Zagreb, from the mountains to the river. [in that tower, Sam pulled the bell rope and was stunned at the volume, saying "out, out, too loud" while pulling me out the door] We watched a wedding party leaving a church that had a spectacular tiled roof before heading back to our apartment through the cobbled streets.

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In this photo of the old town, the funicular and the tower is at bottom center, the church in the center, and our apartment is just off the lower right hand corner

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On our way down the hill we stopped at a shop that sells masks and game pieces, where there was a crowd of young people [Croatian nerds] playing a strategic game. We continued down the street. People along the way kept saying something and pointing to Sam, and smiling. "Lutka, lutka." When we asked Miriam later (the owner of the Yoga Studio), she said it meant "doll".

Our apartment was remarkably spacious by NYC standards , with a large bedroom/living room, a nice kitchen and bathroom. Sam had his own bed (which of course I had to take a diaper changing photo of). With the combination of jet lag and excitement, it was often simply too hard for Sam to take a nap during the day. Which meant that we had to use the tried/trued technique of pushing him around in his stroller til he fell asleep, and then keeping him there while he sleeps. Sonja was quite happy with the apartment, even though the dryer took so long to complete its job that she had to give up and hang the clothes in the living room to dry (that's Mary taking a jet-lag catnap in the large bed). From the outside, the apartment was functional Eastern-bloc chic (note Sonja, Sam, and Mary poking their heads out). The view from the inside, however, included both a portion of the red-umbrella'd Zagreb farmer's market and the cathedral.

And Sam dearly loved the old wooden elevator in its windowed shaft.

Outside our front door was the flower market. An obvious attraction to Sam. It also had a stall with handmade wooden children's toys; I think Mary must have bought almost the entire supply. Most were made by the family who managed the stall, and Mary had them running back to their home to get more for the wild American woman. Doll beds, wooden birds that flapped when you rolled them along the floor, flutes, horse and carts... Sam tested them all and approved.

I liked the way Sam kept his eye on the street.

The Farmer's Market:

(watch how fast that little hand moves)

Otherwise known as Dolac, this open air market is the biggest in Croatia, and has an overwhelming variety of fresh foods. In this photo, taken from the air, our apartment is just out of view in the upper left-hand corner. My best guess is that Dolac is not the name of the market itself, but is an old name for the neighborhood where it's located. It is only a guess, of course, but since Dolac means "sinkhole" in English, I'm not sure it's a name one would choose. Croatia is a country apparently passionate about its produce, and uses its claims to freshness and 'organicity' (is that a word?) to market throughout the EU. Sonja commented, while flying in to Zagreb, about the patchwork quilt we saw below us. To her it indicated small, frequently rotated, crops. With contours that matched the geography. Unlike a large mono-crop-producing area, like Kansas, with its vast acres of terrain-flattening, mechanically harvested, corn. The variety at Dolac was impressive: everything from turnips to bee pollen and unidentified seeds that promise to straighten out your digestive tract. For Sam the place was a wonder of colors. But those currants that Sam attacked and grabbed for their shiny colors turned out to be rather tart and after stuffing a few in his mouth, he decided to give them back. Because it was Sam, the shopkeeper was happy to oblige. He charmed her. The fact that Mary bought about a pound of those berries-- suffering an attack of 'oh-he's-touched-the-fruit-I-gotta-buy-it-now' guilt-- had absolutely of course nothing to do with the stall owner's kindness in accepting Sam's returns.... Money aside, it was certainly true that Sam continues to have a knack for turning heads. It may be grandad blinders', but this kid is still a charmer. When he walked through the market, people smiled. Amazing to watch. The grandmothers selling their cheeses, were particularly entranced. As were we, by these little old ladies' cheeses. They were the highlight of the market for us. Not having the money to rent the main, umbrella-draped stalls, they clustered around the edges, and were particularly insistent in their sales technique, taking you by the hand if necessary to get you to try one of their cheeses. The soft cheeses were in little bowls, and the ladies pour your purchase into plastic baggies for you to take home. Mmmmm....

Scoop and the World's Smallest Carousel

Sam had his favorite activities during his grandparent's week in Zagreb. One was riding on the carousel. Now, this was not just any old carousel. It wasn't the CentralPark Carousel. This was a Sam-sized carousel, the smallest I've ever seen. Despite the size, the owner made the adult stand behind the child and ride around and around. I tried it for a few revolutions and I thought I was going to throw up.

Croatia was a part of the old communist Yugoslavia, and their are many reminders of this, both good and bad. I was particularly pleased to see remnants of the workers' paradise: the toy stores were full of construction-related, manual-labor edifying, playthings. And Sam could not get enough of "Scoop". Tucked in the corner of a pedestrian walkway, riding on this machine became a daily ritual for Sam, something he could not do without. As a fan of Bob the Builder, Sam would have settled in permanently on the back of one of his favorite characters.

Ah, but the creep of materialist capitalism can't be resisted, and by the week's end Sam had moved into the world of glitz and speed.

Jarun and Swimming, Basking, and Baking

Zagreb was sunny and hot that week. Fortunately very sunny. And even more fortunately, in a city of concrete and brick, the opportunities to throw oneself into the water were both easily available and wonderfully satisfying. Jarun is a large and very elaborate recreational and sporting facility, built originally to house Olympic level Soviet bloc competitions in things like rowing, canoeing, and swimming. Large block-like structures dominate the place, and have clearly seen better days. But the water in the two large lakes is exquisite. We spent a great day there, with Mary and I watching Sam while Sonja went for a long training run on the 6 mile running path around the lakes (Did I tell you that Sonja got accepted for the NYC Marathon this year?!).

Within walking distance of our apartment were a set of three great swimming pools: an Olympic sized, a kids sized, and a Sam sized. After changing in the appropriate graffitti-tagged changing rooms (another chance to add to my collection), and going up the stairs to the pools, we were met with very loud pop music blaring from overhead speakers. While in Zagreb I learned that all communal public activities seem to be serenaded with bad 80's music, played loud. While getting an extraordinary massage (4-handed!), for example, I was forced to listen to endless variations of We Are The World, and other Michael Jackson favorites.... Sam, being Sam, had no problem with this: all music is an opportunity to dance, no matter where you find yourself.

So Much More....

And never enough time. I haven't described Sam's new look.

Or the popularity of Sonja's classes, and the great studio space she uses.

Or Sam's rakish technique of hiding in the girls' lockers.

Or how he imitated our facial expressions that showed how Mary and I felt about leaving.

Or his joy in having his Dad return.

And with that, Mary and I were off to paradise............................