After visiting Lazarica Church in Kruševac, surrounded by the remains of the medieval fortress that served as the capital of Moravian Serbia from 1371 to 1403, I walked down to the centre of the contemporary city.

Before turning to its cultural landmarks, however, let me first say a few words about the general history of Kruševac.

Following the fall of the Serbian Despotate to the Ottoman Empire in 1459, Kruševac became part of the Ottoman state. The Turks renamed the town Alaca Hisar, meaning "Colourful Fortress." During four centuries of Ottoman rule, Kruševac retained its importance as an administrative and commercial centre, although its political influence was far smaller than it had been during the period of the medieval Serbian state.

Kruševac was finally liberated from Ottoman rule in 1833 and became part of the restored Principality of Serbia. Throughout the 19th century and the early 20th century, the town experienced rapid development, with schools, government institutions, roads and industrial facilities being built.

Today, Kruševac holds a special place in Serbia's national history as the capital of Prince Lazar and as a symbol of an era during which many of the events that permanently shaped the Serbian state, culture, and national memory took place. Its historical, cultural and spiritual heritage makes it one of Serbia's most valuable historic cities.

Since I have already mentioned the government institutions built at the turn of the 20th century, I should also mention the District Prefecture Building, a cultural monument of great significance, which was the first landmark I reached during my walk through the centre of Kruševac. Today, the building houses the City Administration of the City of Kruševac.

District Prefecture Building

The construction of this building began in 1900 and was completed four years later. It has a symmetrical ground plan and a prominent, richly decorated central avant-corps crowned by a dome with a rectangular plan and a viewing platform at the top enclosed by a wrought-iron railing. The corner avant-corps are also topped with domes, although these have square plans.

District Prefecture Building, a detail

The building also features a very interesting interior, with a number of noteworthy artistic details. However, I did not go inside, so I cannot describe it from personal experience. Instead, I simply took another photograph of its front façade.

District Prefecture Building

Further along the same street as the District Prefecture Building is a beautiful square with a fountain, where another protected cultural monument stands – the Monument to the Kosovo Heroes.

Kruševac, a detail

The foundation stone for this monument was laid in 1889 in order to commemorate the 500th anniversary of the Battle of Kosovo.

As a reminder, the Battle of Kosovo took place on 28 June, 1389, on the Kosovo Plain between the army of the Serbian Prince Lazar Hrebeljanović and his allies, and the Ottoman army led by Sultan Murad I. Both Prince Lazar and Sultan Murad were killed in the battle. Historians generally regard its immediate outcome as inconclusive, since both sides suffered heavy losses. In the long term, however, the battle favoured the Ottomans, who established their dominance over the Serbian lands during the following decades. This ultimately led to Serbian territories remaining under Ottoman rule until the 19th century, with the gradual liberation of the country beginning in the early years of that century.

Moreover, in Serbia it is commonly said that "we were under Turkish rule for 500 years." As the example of Kruševac shows, the Ottomans formally ruled the town for about 400 years. The commonly cited figure of 500 years is obtained by counting the period from 1389, the year of the Battle of Kosovo, when the gradual loss of Serbian statehood began, to 1878, when, under the Treaty of Berlin, Serbia finally gained full independence from the Ottoman Empire.

As for the Battle of Kosovo itself, it is remembered in the Serbian collective consciousness and folk tradition as a military defeat, but also as a moral and spiritual victory because of the willingness of Prince Lazar and his army to make the ultimate sacrifice. During the centuries of Ottoman rule, the memory of the battle was preserved through Serbian epic poetry, oral tradition, the Orthodox Church, and literature.

In this way, the Battle of Kosovo became one of the defining events of Serbian history and a powerful symbol of national identity, sacrifice, the defence of the state, and the Christian faith. As such, it remains deeply rooted in the Serbian national consciousness.

As for the Monument to the Kosovo Heroes, it was created by the sculptor Đorđe Jovanović, who received a gold medal for this work at the 1900 Paris Exposition, a world's fair held in the French capital. The monument was officially unveiled in 1904.

Monument to Kosovo Heroes

On the northwestern side of the pedestal is a sculpted figure of the blind guslar Filip Višnjić. Guslars (traditional folk singers and bards in the Balkans who play the gusle, a single-stringed bowed musical instrument) like him were among those who, through epic poetry, preserved the memory of the Battle of Kosovo over the centuries, not only as a defining historical event but also as a means of keeping alive the story of the Serbian state and the many events that took place both before and after the battle. Above him, the year 1389 is inscribed in gold.

On the northeastern side is a relief depicting Prince Lazar's army receiving Holy Communion before the Battle of Kosovo. Above it is the inscription: "To the Kosovo Heroes from the Serbian Nation."

On the southeastern side of the pedestal stands the figure of a young woman, a personification of Serbia, crowned with a laurel wreath symbolising victory. Above her is the year 1882, when the Principality of Serbia was proclaimed the Kingdom of Serbia, further strengthening the country's statehood and international standing.

On the southwestern side of the pedestal is a relief depicting the slaying of Sultan Murad I by Miloš. This, of course, refers to Miloš Obilić, the renowned Serbian medieval knight who is the hero of numerous Serbian epic poems. He achieved his legendary status in Serbian tradition largely because he is said to have reached Sultan Murad I during the Battle of Kosovo and killed him.

From a historical perspective, however, it is not known who actually assassinated the Ottoman sultan. Some historians consider Obilić to have been a real historical figure, while others regard him as a purely legendary hero.

Above this relief is the year 1804, marking the First Serbian Uprising, which initiated Serbia's struggle for liberation from Ottoman rule.

Monument to Kosovo Heroes

At the top of the monument stands a statue of the goddess of Victory (Nike) with outstretched wings, although some interpret the figure as a fairy from Serbian folk tradition. She supports the wounded Boško Jugović, another hero of Serbian epic poetry, while lowering a laurel wreath onto his head.

As a reminder, according to Serbian epic tradition, Boško Jugović was one of the nine Jugović brothers and the standard-bearer of Prince Lazar's army at the Battle of Kosovo. At the top of the Monument to the Kosovo Heroes, he is depicted as gravely wounded, but still firmly holding the Serbian banner. Boško Jugović was chosen as the monument's central figure because, in Serbian folk tradition, he embodies unwavering loyalty, courage and a willingness to sacrifice himself for his fatherland. The raised banner he continues to hold symbolises the continuity of the Serbian people's struggle and survival.

After walking around the monument, I wandered through the streets of Kruševac, partly asking for directions to an important street I wanted to find and partly realising that it was time to take a break. The temperature was quite high and although I was not hungry, I was very thirsty and needed to cool down.

On my way to a restaurant that had been recommended to me, I first stopped for an ice cream as a bit of the "first aid."

Kruševac, a detail

Then I found the restaurant-café and immediately ordered a coffee, a refreshing drink and some water. Looking back, I think it would have been a good idea to order everything double right away.

Kruševac, a detail

After this break, I returned to the square with the Monument to the Kosovo Heroes and then crossed to the other side of the street, where, on a spacious plateau, I saw the monument to Stanislav Binički.

Kruševac, a detail

Stanislav Binički (1872–1942) was one of the most important Serbian composers, conductors and music educators of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He was born in Jasika near Kruševac and received his musical education in Munich, Germany, where he studied composition and solo singing. After returning to Serbia, he made a significant contribution to the development of musical life: he was one of the founders of the Serbian Music School, the founder of the Belgrade Military Orchestra, and the first director of the Opera of the National Theatre in Belgrade.

His most famous work is the "March on the Drina," composed in 1915 after the victories of the Serbian army in the Battles of Kolubara and Cer in WWI, as a tribute to Colonel Milivoje Stojanović Brka (1873–1914), commander of the Iron Regiment. This composition became one of the most recognisable symbols of Serbian musical and historical heritage.

One version of this march can be heard on the following page: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oloF_UnYCW0).

Behind this monument, the beautiful building of the Faculty of Agriculture in Kruševac can also be seen. The building was erected at the beginning of the 20th century as part of the city's development and was previously used as the headquarters of the People's University of Kruševac. More recently, it was ceded to the faculty, which is part of the University of Niš.

Kruševac, a detail

I now continued towards the neighbouring Majke Jugovića Street, where a couple of cultural monuments are located. The first one is already visible from the monument to Stanislav Binički.

Kruševac, a detail

This is the Simić House, a cultural monument of great importance.

The Simić House

The Simić House is one of the oldest preserved civic residences in Kruševac, believed to have been built at the beginning of the 19th century. It was initially associated with the Frenčević family, Ottoman beys, although this connection is not entirely certain, and later with Stojan Simić, an important political and economic figure of the restored Serbian state. It was here, in 1835, that an agreement related to the Knez-Mileta’s Rebellion was reached (see: https://svudapodji.com/en/blace-1/).

As can be seen in the photograph, the house has a ground floor and an upper floor, with a spacious veranda at the upper level supported by profiled columns. The house has now been whitewashed, so it is no longer possible to see that the ground floor was built of rough stone, while the upper floor was constructed using the half-timber and wattle techniques.

There is also a veranda at the back of the house, but it is positioned on the corner.

The Simić House

The Simić House provides a good illustration of what an oriental čaršija (town market district) looked like in the first half of the 19th century. Today, the building houses the Ethnographic Museum, but I arrived late and the museum was already closed.

Continuing further along Majke Jugovića Street, I also reached the Art Gallery Building, which is another cultural monument.

Art Gallery Building

Art Gallery Building, a detail

This building also contains an exhibition space, but it too was closed on Saturday afternoon, so I was only able to examine the building from the outside, as much as possible with the cars and tree canopies blocking the view. I even photographed the neighbouring house, which was built in the same style, although with certain differences.

Art Gallery Building, to the right

The gallery is housed in what was once the family home of the Ljotić merchant family, built in the 1920s. The street façade features two large three-part windows, with pilasters topped by Ionic capitals at their outer ends and two mullions in-between.

At the attic level, there is a balustrade decorated with two oculi, which are further embellished with garlands held by figures of boys.

Art Gallery Building, a detail

Art Gallery Building, a detail

On the street façade there is also a medallion depicting the Greek god Hermes holding in his hand a caduceus, a winged staff entwined by two serpents. Since Hermes was the ancient protector of trade, commerce, finance and profit, I assume that he was placed here as a direct indication that the owner of the building was a wealthy merchant.

Art Gallery Building, a detail

By the way, this part of Majke Jugovića Street has many cafés and I would have gladly sat down in one of them, but it was already time for me to continue on. Along the way, I also photographed the building of the Kruševac Archives, which is another example of the type of houses that were built here in the first half of the 20th century.

Kruševac, a detail

Kruševac, a detail

However, first I had to find another important cultural monument and there was a bit of confusion involved.

It concerns the spatial cultural-historical property called "Grčki šor" ("Greek Alley"), which my documentation stated was located in "Vuka Karadžića Street." The problem was that I could not find a street with that name on the map. I even asked around, but nobody was able to tell me. Then I did a bit more research and discovered that the area is actually called "Karadžićeva Street." A rose by any other name, as they say.

But let me explain what it is about. Grčki šor is a cultural monument of great importance, referring to a group of residential family houses featuring elements of traditional architecture. These houses were originally built during the second and third quarters of the 19th century, but construction continued into the beginning of the 20th century and even after the First World War.

Grčki šor, a detail

This spatial cultural-historical property received its name from its founders, the Aromanians (Cincars), a Balkan ethnic community whose members came here mostly from Greece, although for centuries they lived throughout the territories of present-day Greece, Albania, North Macedonia, Bulgaria and Serbia. They were known as successful merchants, craftsmen, bankers and philanthropists. During the 18th and 19th centuries, many Aromanian families settled in Serbia and made a significant contribution to the development of the economy, culture, and state administration. Over time, they were largely assimilated into Serbian society, but they preserved traces of their origins through family traditions, language, and cultural heritage.

Probably the most famous Aromanian and at the same time the greatest Serbian comedy writer who understood human nature perfectly, was Alkibijad Nuša, better known as Branislav Nušić. His father was an Aromanian merchant, while his mother was Serbian. Later, Alkibijad legally changed his name to Branislav and adapted the surname Nuša to the Serbian language by adding the suffix -ić.

But, let me return to the story of "Karadžićeva Street," which acquired the name “Greek Alley” because the Aromanians who owned, and probably also built, the original houses lived there.

The houses were typically built as single-story structures with verandas and doksat (a type of enclosed or projecting upper-floor balcony), four-pitched roofs, and wide eaves.

Grčki šor, a detail

The doksats are particularly beautiful, while underneath them there are entrances to the cellars. I was delighted to see that some of the houses are in very good condition and that their owners maintain them exceptionally well.

Grčki šor, a detail

Grčki šor, a detail

So, I truly enjoyed walking along the street, looking at the various houses and their details.

Grčki šor, a detail

Grčki šor, a detail

I particularly liked seeing a metal plaque on one of the houses stating that the building was insured by the "Belgrade Cooperative," which was founded in 1882. That insurance company certainly no longer exists, but the plaque itself represents an interesting historical artifact.

Grčki šor, a detail

I continued all the way to the end of the street, occasionally looking back while still stopping to admire some of the houses.

Grčki šor, a detail

Grčki šor, a detail

Grčki šor, a detail

Then I headed towards the small square where I had parked my car, while along the way I noticed an interesting road sign that is not something you see very often. I found it to be quite amusing.

Kruševac, a detail

In the small park on Despot Stefan Square, there is, quite appropriately, a monument to Princess Milica. Why do I say "appropriately"? Because Despot Stefan Lazarević (b/r. 1377/1389–1427) was the son of Princess Milica and Prince Lazar, whom I have already mentioned in the previous part of these stories about my trip to Blace in June 2026. In addition, Stefan Lazarević was also born in Kruševac. As for his death, more information about it can be found at: (https://www.svudapodji.com/en/south-of-belgrade/).

Kruševac, a detail

Then I left Kruševac and took the main road south. Along the way, I passed another cultural monument of great significance, belonging to the category of landmarks. I made a rather poor choice when stopping there because I did not feel like going around to reach the proper parking area and I did not intend to stay for long anyway, so I only took a few photographs from the pedestrian path running parallel to the main road.

This is the Memorial Complex Slobodište. The first thing I came across there was the Monument to the Members of the Army, Police and Reserve Forces Fallen from 1991 to 1999. The monument was erected in 2018 and is dedicated to the 69 residents of Kruševac who lost their lives in the wars in Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Kosovo.

Memorial Complex Slobodište, a detail

As for the memorial complex itself, during the Second World War and the German occupation from 1941 to 1944, there was an execution site on Bagdala Hill where the Germans shot more than 1,600 patriots from Kruševac and the surrounding area. Today, the 77-hectare site contains a memorial park with mass graves.

Memorial Complex Slobodište

The author of the memorial park, architect Bogdan Bogdanović, designed this space through the use of symbols, earthen mounds, stone forms, and architectural elements that together create a kind of "path of remembrance."

Memorial Complex Slobodište

This is a large area and visitors can certainly take a longer walk here and explore the various parts of the park.

Memorial Complex Slobodište, a detail

What I saw from the edge of the site was a T-55 tank that took part in the fighting in the area of the Košare border outpost during the Kosovo conflict in 1999 and the NATO bombing campaign.

Memorial Complex Slobodište, a detail

Demilitarised and restored as an exhibit in the open-air museum, the Košare T-55 Tank was placed here in 2020, but its installation was also the subject of considerable controversy. Some consider it an appropriate addition to the memorial dedicated to soldiers who died in the wars of 1991–1999, while others believe that it does not fit with the original concept of Bogdan Bogdanović, who designed Slobodište as a universal memorial to the victims of fascism, without militaristic symbols.

Memorial Complex Slobodište, a detail

In any case, I returned to the main road and continued on towards Blace, with the intention of stopping at one more very important place along the way.

I will share more details about that in the next part. For now, here is a map showing all the places I visited and the locations of the important cultural monuments I have mentioned.

As I mentioned at the end of the previous sequel of the story about my trip through the Italian region of Apulia (or Puglia, as the Italians call it) in mid-September 2024, after a lovely and long lunch break (and some wine), I set out for a leisurely walk, first around the edge of the historic centre of the town of Ostuni and then I ventured into its narrow and picturesque streets.

Ostuni

Ostuni is also known as the "White City" due to the presence of numerous whitewashed buildings. This mainly refers to the historic centre of the city, which is built on top of a hill near the Adriatic Sea.

After I took some pictures of the city from the outside, I headed towards the centre through its narrow streets, which were more like passageways and staircases.

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

This is how I arrived at the Church of Saint Vitus the Martyr (Chiesa di San Vito martire), also known as Santa Maria Maddalena de' Pazzi.

Church of Saint Vitus the Martyr

The church was built between 1750 and 1754 on the ruins of a previous medieval church. Although, as I’ve read, it has a beautiful interior, today it serves as a venue for conferences and cultural events, and some archaeological finds can be seen there, including the skeleton of a woman with a foetus from the Palaeolithic. However, I wanted to continue walking, so I didn’t linger here.

Just a few dozen metres away is the Ostuni Cathedral, which is dedicated to the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. When I reached the cathedral, it was clear that a wedding ceremony had just concluded, while a photo session was taking place on the stairs in front of the main entrance. So, I had to wait for a while, but then it was possible to enter the cathedral without disturbing anyone.

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni Cathedral

The church was built between 1437 and 1495. Although it may appear modest at first glance, the facade actually features a number of beautiful decorations, with the central rose window standing out in particular.

Ostuni Cathedral, a detail

Ostuni Cathedral, a detail

The interior of the cathedral was renovated during the Baroque period and there, too, one can notice many beautiful and interesting details.

Ostuni Cathedral, a detail

Ostuni Cathedral, a detail

Ostuni Cathedral, a detail

Ostuni Cathedral, a detail

Across from the entrance to the cathedral is the Bishop’s Palace, which was originally built around 1560, but was significantly renovated in 1750.

Bishop’s Palace

It is connected to the neighbouring seminary by a very beautiful arch that is named after the bishop who is credited with its construction in the first half of the 18th century.

Ostuni, a detail

Scoppa Arch

Scoppa Arch from the back

The historic centre of Ostuni, with its narrow streets, staircases and doorways, is exceptionally picturesque and I now set off on a relaxed and leisurely walk through this part of the city. Along the way, I came to a spot that offered a very beautiful view of the coastline and the Adriatic Sea.

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

At one point, I decided to go to the supermarket because I needed to buy a few things that would make my stay in the rented flat more comfortable. Once I finished that, I returned to the street where the flat was located. The day was already coming to an end, so I retreated to my accommodation, as I was also making plans for the coming days, so I didn’t go out anymore.

Ostuni, a detail

The next day, I planned to visit the town of Monopoli on the Adriatic coast, as it had been recommended to me. I was even told that the place was more beautiful than Polignano a Mare. I’ll say right away that this wasn’t my impression in the end, but I was certainly happy I made this "half-day trip."

It all started though with me walking in Ostuni to a remarkable spot, a point offering a wonderful view of the historic centre of this "White City."

Along the way, I also passed through a relatively large city park, where I noticed a tree that I found very beautiful and interesting.

Ostuni, a detail

But besides that, while passing through parts of Ostuni that don't belong to the historic centre, I could conclude that they were also quite interesting and picturesque.

Ostuni, a detail

The viewpoint I was heading to is located on a terrace square called Piazzetta Martiri delle Foibe, which is about 700 m from the main square that leads into the historic centre of the city. I think it’s best to visit here in the morning, due to the position of the sun in relation to the historic centre – that’s when the whiteness of Ostuni stands out the most. Additionally, the coastline and the Adriatic Sea are also clearly visible from here.

Ostuni

Ostuni

Ostuni

After I took a few shots, I began heading back toward the city centre. Along the way, I stopped again at a few spots to capture the White City and some of its details from a different angle.

Ostuni

Ostuni, a detail

When I reached the main square, I first took a few photos and then sat down to enjoy a nice coffee at a spot where I had a lovely view of the historic centre.

Ostuni, a detail

Afterwards, I got moving again, but only briefly continued towards Liberty Square (Piazza della Libertà), because there is a church there that was open at the time and I wanted to visit it.

Ostuni, a detail

It was the Church of St. Francis of Assisi (Chiesa di San Francesco d'Assisi).

Church of St. Francis of Assisi

The church was built in 1304, but it has since been renovated and expanded several times. Specifically, its facade was redesigned in 1883, while the bronze doors were made more recently, in 1985.

The interior consists of a single nave and the decoration dates back to the 18th century.

Church of St. Francis of Assisi

Although I wasn't in any rush, after this I did move on, leisurely heading towards the spacious parking lot for tourist coaches, Tenente Specchia, where city buses that go to and from the Ostuni train station, about 4 km away, also stop.

Ostuni, a detail

The day was very beautiful, sunny and pleasantly warm, so I headed to the town of Monopoli on the coast, which had been recommended to me as a very lovely place (it is about 40 km from Ostuni). Since the whole trip had been characterised by fairly relaxed and leisurely sightseeing, I felt it was perfectly fine to take a ride through southern Italy to visit a place about which I had no prior information.

So, from the train station, I walked towards the historic centre, passing by the Church of Saint Anthony of Padua (Parrocchia Sant'Antonio di Padova), but without the intention of stopping there.

Monopoli, a detail

I did, however, have a serious intention to stop somewhere for an early lunch and I soon did just that. I must admit, on this occasion, I made a very good choice, and in the end, I was both full and content.

Swordfish Carpaccio marinated in lemon oil

Gnocchi with prawns, rocket pesto and almonds, with extra virgin olive oil and cheese

Meanwhile, I decided not to go directly to the historic centre of Monopoli, but rather to take the newer streets of the town, wandering a bit around, so I could approach the historic centre from the southern side and start my visit from there.

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

By doing this, not only was I able to see the Monopoli Cathedral, but I also got to see a part of the open-air Armoury Museum.

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

In this way, I also reached the beach Cala Porta Vecchia, which can be said to be right in the middle of the old town.

Monopoli, a detail

The beach was quite nice, but not exactly inspiring. So, I just took a photo of it from another angle and dipped my feet in the water.

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

Then, I started to walk around the town a bit. At one point, I saw a building that was constructed in the same way as the one where I had rented the flat in Ostuni. I found this especially interesting because of my friend, who is an architect, so I mentioned it to her. Specifically, I noticed that many buildings were designed in a way where you enter the front room, which clearly has a door, but also a window or windows. This room tends to be relatively long, and from there, in the flat where I stayed, you enter the bedroom, which actually has no windows at all, and the only source of natural light comes through the door connecting the two rooms. This is quite visible in the next photo: the white building on the right-hand side of the picture has both a door and windows on the front, but when viewed from the side, there is practically nothing. Anyone interested can easily imagine that the only natural light inside comes from the front facade.

Monopoli, a detail

I suppose the reason for this type of construction is either that the buildings were built right next to each other, leaving no space for side openings or to reduce the impact of heat during the summer or strong winds during the winter.

Well, these are the kinds of things I think about when I travel. But in the case of Monopoli, there were plenty of truly interesting and beautiful buildings that didn't prompt any theories on my part.

Monopoli, a detail

On my way to the cathedral, I also passed by the Church of Santa Maria del Suffragio from the 17th century. The street where this church is located is quite narrow, so I could only photograph it from the side.

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

Soon, I reached the cathedral, which is officially called Basilica Cattedrale della Madonna della Madia.

Monopoli Cathedral

The construction of the original church began in 1107, but between 1742 and 1770, it was entirely replaced by a new church built in the Baroque style. The interior decoration features the use of multicoloured marble, while the miraculous icon of the Madonna della Madia, which, according to legend, emerged from the sea in 1117, is located at the centre of the presbytery.

Monopoli Cathedral, a detail

Monopoli Cathedral, a detail

Continuing my walk through the historic centre of Monopoli, I was able to enjoy numerous picturesque houses, as well as various churches.

Monopoli, a detail

Some of the churches still serve exclusively religious functions, while others have adapted to modern times. For example, the Church of Saint Leonard (Chiesa San Leonardo) from the 18th century, a part of which has been converted into a museum.

Monopoli, a detail

I also took a stroll to a square called Piazza Palmieri. The square is interesting because it features the 18th-century Church of St. Teresa (Chiesa di Santa Teresa), a beautiful fountain, and the Palmieri Palace (Palazzo Palmieri), also from the 18th century.

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

Now, I began walking through some streets, heading towards the picturesque Old Port (Porto Vecchio).

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

The Old Port isn't large, but I found it interesting for photography, as there were some unique angles and details to capture.

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

In the previous photo, on the left, you can see the Castle of Charles V (Castello Carlo V), with a pentagonal ground plan, the construction of which was completed in 1525. It is located on a promontory that was once separate from the town, while for a time, it was used as a prison. Today, it is a venue for exhibitions and cultural events.

Monopoli, a detail

Now I leisurely made my way back to the train station, but along the way, I passed through other parts of the historic centre, where I once again photographed interesting details and buildings. These were mostly churches and former monasteries, but everything was truly pleasant to look at.

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

Monopoli, a detail

On my way back to the train station serving the town of Ostuni, I was able to enjoy the landscapes through the train window. Olive groves were often visible along the way.

Monopoli, a detail

I had previously mentioned that the Ostuni train station is not actually in the town itself, but about 4 km away. However, there are buses that solve this issue. When I returned to the town, it was still day, so I headed toward the centre.

Ostuni, a detail

I again stumbled upon a wedding, but this time the guests were heading somewhere. It seemed to me that Ostuni is particularly popular as a wedding destination.

Ostuni, a detail

I first went to have a coffee and it was just what I needed. It felt quite good.

Ostuni, a detail

Since I had no obligations for the rest of the day, I completely relaxed and enjoyed myself. The only thing I did at some point was move to another café, still in the centre of Ostuni, where the sun was shining a little longer. There, I ordered a cocktail. Dolce far’ niente!

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

When the last rays of the sun stopped reaching the main square and its surroundings, I slowly started heading towards the flat I had rented, but through some relatively side streets. I found it interesting to observe parts of the town that weren't touristy.

Ostuni, a detail

Ostuni, a detail

I was once again aware of the specific form of residential units, where the front facades had openings, but it was quite clear that these were the only openings through which natural light could enter the interior space.

Ostuni, a detail

What I found particularly interesting, considering the narrow streets, was the skill of the local drivers.

Ostuni, a detail

Not only did they manage to pass each other in those narrow streets or turn corners, but they also succeeded in parking their cars in completely unbelievable spots, with exceptional skill and a keen sense of space and stairs.

Ostuni, a detail

In the distance, I could also see the Adriatic Sea.

Ostuni, a detail

And as the day was coming to an end, the colours were really beautiful, adding a special charm to this lovely town and its buildings.

Ostuni, a detail

In June 2026, I went to Blace, Serbia, for a few days to celebrate my friend Tanja's patron saint's day (Slava). I took the opportunity to visit some of the cultural heritage monuments located along my route.

Here is a map showing all the places I visited, the locations of the cultural heritage monuments I saw, as well as a few other interesting sites.

From the remains of the medieval town of Stalać (Stalać Fortress), situated on a hill above the modern-day village of Stalać, I drove a short distance downhill along the road until I reached a churchyard. In addition to the newer Church of the Holy Trinity, it is also home to the Church of Holy Spirit, meaning the Descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles. The church is officially designated as an immovable cultural property of great importance.

Yard with the Church of the Holy Spirit

It is a small, single-nave church built at an unknown date, but certainly sometime between the medieval period and the Ottoman era.

Church of the Holy Spirit

A stone plaque on the church's façade, dated 1907, states that the church was restored in 1836 at the expense of the local parishioners. This restoration was necessary because archaeological investigations carried out in 1972 revealed that the original building had been destroyed to below the level of its vault and its upper sections were therefore rebuilt during the 1836 restoration. The 1972 excavations also uncovered a 10th-century Byzantine gold coin in the foundations, as well as frescoes in the sanctuary dating to the late 14th and early 15th centuries.

Church of the Holy Spirit

I walked around the church quite nicely, but I couldn't get inside because I wasn't able to open the door. As I was heading back to my car, I passed the house in the churchyard and noticed a sign with the priest's name and phone number. Since I also had some questions about several other churches in the area, I decided to give him a call and the very kind Father Ivan answered.

After introducing myself, I first asked whether someone could unlock the Church of the Holy Spirit so that I could see the interior. He told me that the church was actually already unlocked, I just needed to push the door a bit more firmly after pressing down the handle. Excellent! My first problem was solved.

Then I asked him about three other churches in the area and whether they were accessible by car, since the map made it seem as though they were not. Father Ivan confirmed that they could not be reached by car, but said that the Church of St. John was the closest to the road and that I could easily walk there. He also mentioned that this church was open as well. It was just another case of having to give the door a firmer push.

And that wasn't all. Father Ivan also invited me to come back the following year for the Feast of St. Mark, when he and the parishioners would make the traditional walk to the Church of St. Mark, which stands a little more uphill and somewhat farther from the road.

The third church that interested me was the Church of St. Nicholas, but there is no road leading to it either, so I would have to improvise my route.

The point was that all three of these churches are officially designated as cultural properties of great importance, so I certainly had plenty of motivation to visit them. On the other hand, my itinerary for the day was quite ambitious and I wasn't sure how much time I would need for the other places where I planned to stop. Besides, I still had to reach Blace that same day.

So, for the time being, I returned to the Church of the Holy Spirit, followed Father Ivan's advice, and pressed the handle and the door a little more firmly. A moment later, I was inside.

Church of the Holy Spirit, a detail

Church of the Holy Spirit, a detail

The frescoes are certainly of a more recent date, but I was nevertheless very glad that I was able to enter the church and see its interior.

Church of the Holy Spirit, a detail

Church of the Holy Spirit, a detail

Church of the Holy Spirit, a detail

Church of the Holy Spirit, a detail

Encouraged by what Father Ivan had told me, I first drove just under 3 km south of the church along the road that runs almost the entire way beside the left bank of the South Morava River. At the spot where, according to the map, I was supposed to leave my car and continue on foot, I came across a man on a tractor. I asked him about the Church of St. John and whether I was in the right place. He confirmed that I was and told me simply to follow the path alongside the stream, which would lead me to the church. He also advised me to change my footwear since I was wearing sandals, since I told him that I had a pair of sneakers with me.

I parked my car in a pleasant patch of shade beside the road, changed my shoes, grabbed my backpack with some water and set off.

The Mojsinjska Mount (which is actually a hill, as its highest point is below 500 m) lies within a triangle formed by the West Morava and South Morava rivers and the route between Kruševac and Deligrad. In practical terms, this area occupies the very heart of the Balkan Peninsula. Throughout history, it has been crossed by the main routes linking northern and southern Europe. Nearby Kruševac also served as the capital of Moravian Serbia from 1371 to 1403, during the period of the most significant event in medieval Serbian history – the Battle of Kosovo in 1389.

According to local tradition, Mojsinjska Mount was once home to around 77 churches and monasteries, of which 28 survive today. It is believed that this remarkable concentration of religious sites originated in the 14th century, when a group of monks from Mount Sinai fled the advancing Ottoman armies and settled in the area after leaving their original monasteries. Because of this rich spiritual heritage, the entire region has acquired the local nickname the Holy Mountain of Mojsinje.

Sign by the road from which one should follow a path towards the Church of St. John

So, the trail begins at the sign visible in the previous photograph.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

In addition to its cultural and historical significance, Mojsinjska Mount is also rich in natural resources, such as underground springs and streams. This has contributed to the growth of numerous mushroom species. How do I know? Quite simply – there is a signpost here indicating that this very route is the “Mushroom Trail of the Holy Mountain of Mojsinje.” I noticed that the mushroom-related project was carried out with support from the EU. Since they have already provided funding, it seems only fair to thank them, because this is something that ultimately remains here for us.

According to another sign I saw, this area is home to edible, poisonous, and rare mushroom species. I like mushrooms, but I have never felt inspired to pick them myself. Besides, I always remember hearing somewhere that all mushrooms are edible, but the problem is that some of them are edible only once.

So, on this day, I was simply walking through nature in search of the Church of St. John.

Very soon, I came across a marker indicating that the foundations of the Church of the Holy Mother of God were located there.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

The trail soon became narrower, but it was still perfectly visible even in June, when the vegetation was probably at its peak.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

Then I came to a section that looked like a dirt path, but I think it was actually the dried-up bed of a stream.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

I think this because I came across numerous butterflies in several places, landing on the ground and, it seemed to me, drinking water just beneath the surface.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

There were silver-washed fritillaries (Argynnis paphia), meadow browns (Maniola jurtina), and large tortoiseshells (Nymphalis polychloros) here. I managed to capture the last species nicely when one specimen spread its wings and briefly posed for me.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

This moisture in the soil also meant high humidity in the air. I found that especially difficult because it was hot, there was no wind and I was also in a hurry. I did not see anyone anywhere, so I was thinking that I needed to be particularly careful not to accidentally twist my ankle or have some similar mishap, since I was not sure that I would have phone signal in every part of the area.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

Then I reached the stream, but it did not appear to have a defined course everywhere, almost as if it disappeared into the ground. On the other hand, in some places I had to cross it by stepping over stones. There too, I had to be careful not to slip and fall into the mud or the water, which was certainly not deep, but I still preferred to keep my feet dry.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

And then I reached the point where I was supposed to leave the main mushroom trail and descend into the ravine through which the stream flows.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

Very soon, I caught sight of the church through the trees and it looked like a scene from a fairy tale.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

On the other side there was another ravine, but fortunately I did not have to climb up there. Instead, there is a wide path between the two ravines that leads to the church.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

At the top of this path there is a clearing where the Church of St. John stands. There is also a modern-day trpezar (dining hall) – a covered area with wooden tables and benches intended for parishioners when they come to the church. I left my backpack and hiking poles there, and then went to visit the church.

Church of St. John

This is an immovable cultural property of great importance. The Church of St. John on Mojsinjska Mount dates back to the 14th century and it may even be older, but it was certainly restored in 1926. In any case, there are no written records that would help establish the exact period from which it originates.

Church of St. John

The ground plan of the church is in the shape of a free cross with a very short transverse arm, a semicircular apse, and a narthex on the western side. It is assumed that the original church had a barrel-vaulted ceiling and that it did not have a dome. It was built of sandstone and tufa, and on the façade it can still clearly be seen that three to four rows of bricks alternate with one row of dressed stone blocks.

Following the advice of the priest from Stalać, I opened the church and went inside.

Church of St. John, a detail

Church of St. John, a detail

The church was once painted with frescoes, while today perhaps only traces of the original decoration can still be seen. I did not really look closely, though, so I did not notice any of them.

Church of St. John, a detail

Then I went outside and photographed the church from the other side as well.

Church of St. John, a detail

I also photographed the mushroom trail that runs along the other side of the ravine with the stream. Then I picked up my hiking poles and started heading downhill back towards my car.

Mojsinjska Mount, a detail

I made my way back to the car, changed into my sandals, got behind the wheel and started the engine. But then I thought it would be a good idea to drink some more water first, since I had sweated quite a lot on the way to the church and back.

And then I realised – there was no water bottle and that was because there was no backpack either. That was when I understood that I had left it on the table in the trpezar by the church. What else could I do but change my footwear again, take my hiking poles in my hands and go back up all over again? It is not a steep climb and it takes about 15 minutes each way, but, as I already mentioned, it was hot and very humid, so I was not exactly thrilled.

Of course, my backpack was waiting for me exactly where I had left it.

Church of St. John, a detail

All sweaty, I made my way back to the car and then drove on to Kruševac, where I first found a good shaded spot to park. After that, I walked to the nearby Lazarica Church.

Lazarica Church

I will say more about the church later, but first I would like to mention something about Kruševac itself.

The city was founded around 1371, when Prince Lazar Hrebeljanović chose this location as his political and military seat. The reasons for choosing this particular place were its favourable geographical position, good connections with other parts of the state, and its potential for defence against the increasingly frequent Ottoman incursions. A fortified city was built in Kruševac, with a palace, administrative buildings and a church, making it the capital of the state then known as Moravian Serbia.

It was from Kruševac that Prince Lazar set out with his army in 1389 for the Battle of Kosovo, one of the most significant events in Serbian medieval history. After his death at Kosovo, the state was governed from Kruševac by his wife, Princess Milica, and the young Stefan Lazarević. The city remained the capital until 1403, when Stefan Lazarević, after being granted control of Belgrade, moved the capital there.

Some remains of Lazar’s Fortress have been preserved, among which the Keep stands out as the main defensive structure of the fortress.

Kruševac, a detail

I have to admit that, on the one hand, I was not really prepared to explore the remains of the old fortress or visit the nearby museum, while on the other hand, it was quite hot and I wanted to go to the city centre to sit somewhere and properly cool down.

So, I only briefly photographed a few details, with the intention of returning here again and then devoting more time to everything that this important, and above all charming, little town in central Serbia has to offer its visitors.

I photographed the keep through the transparent plastic panel that has been placed there, with outlines on it designed to help visitors imagine what the site once looked like.

Kruševac, a detail

In the area around Lazarica Church, which looks more like a park than a churchyard, the remains of some structures can also be seen, as well as a monument to Prince Lazar as the founder of the city.

Kruševac, a detail

Kruševac, a detail

And now, I will go back with my story to Lazarica Church that is designated as a cultural property of exceptional importance.

The church is actually dedicated to Saint Stephen the First Martyr. However, because it was built by Prince Lazar and was inseparably connected with his court, the people began calling it Lazarica, meaning “Lazar’s Church.” This name became widely established and is now much more familiar than the official dedication.

In addition, there is further symbolism in the choice of Saint Stephen as the church’s patron. Rulers from the Nemanjić (Nemanides) dynasty often carried the name Stefan in their titles (not necessarily as their baptismal name, but as a ruler’s title) and Saint Stephen the First Martyr was considered one of the protectors of the Serbian state and royal authority. Prince Lazar, although not a Nemanjić through the male line, sought to present himself as the heir to their state and spiritual traditions, so the dedication to Saint Stephen also carried a political message about the continuity of the Serbian state.

Thus, the church was built as Prince Lazar’s court church between 1377 and 1380. It represents one of the finest achievements of the Morava School of Serbian medieval architecture and has preserved much of its original appearance to this day. According to tradition, the Serbian army received Holy Communion in this church before the Battle of Kosovo in 1389.

Lazarica Church

The church was certainly damaged during Ottoman rule, but after the liberation of Kruševac in the 19th century, several restorations were carried out that were rather amateurish. This is not surprising, since both the newly liberated state and its professional institutions were still young. Finally, between 1904 and 1908, conservation and restoration works were undertaken based on scientific principles.

The church has a trefoil (triconch) ground plan with a dome above the intersection of the nave and the central bay, while a bell tower rises above the narthex.

Lazarica Church

Lazarica Church, a detail

The church was built with alternating rows of ashlars and three rows of bricks, a technique that is known as the Byzantine bond style.

Lazarica Church, a detail

Among the exterior decorations, the interlacing patterns around the windows and the stone-carved perforated rosettes are particularly striking.

Lazarica Church, a detail

Lazarica Church, a detail

As for the interior decoration, no traces of the original frescoes have been found, but there are some fragments of wall paintings dating from 1737–1740. The iconostasis dates from 1844; it has been preserved in its entirety and was conserved in 1989.

Lazarica Church, a detail

Lazarica Church, a detail

In the left side apse (conch), there is a reliquary dedicated to Holy Prince Lazar. However, this reliquary has primarily a liturgical and memorial significance, since the relics of Prince Lazar are kept in the Ravanica Monastery, of which he was the ktetor (see: https://www.svudapodji.com/en/serbia-2006-1/).

Lazarica Church, a detail

By the way, Prince Lazar Hrebeljanović was canonised as a saint in the Serbian Orthodox Church very soon after his death at the Battle of Kosovo. There is no surviving document that records the exact act of canonisation, but historians and church historians believe that it took place between 1389 and 1391, meaning only one or two years after the Battle of Kosovo. Holy Prince Lazar is referred to as a holy martyr or great martyr, and his death is interpreted as a martyr’s sacrifice for faith and fatherland.

Lazarica Church, a detail

Also, during the Great Migration of the Serbs in 1690, the monks moved his relics to the Vrdnik-Ravanica Monastery on Fruška Gora for protection from the Ottomans (see: https://www.svudapodji.com/en/fruska-gora/). It was only in 1989, on the occasion of the 600th anniversary of the Battle of Kosovo, that the relics were solemnly returned to Ravanica Monastery, where they remain today.

Lazarica Church, a detail

Here, I also looked at some of the newer wall paintings and I went to see the icon of Saint Venerable Eugenia, which is the saintly name of Princess Milica, the wife of Prince Lazar.

Lazarica Church, a detail

Lazarica Church, a detail

Namely, after Prince Lazar was killed in the Battle of Kosovo in 1389, Milica took over the administration of the state as regent, since their son Stefan Lazarević was still a minor. These were difficult times and Milica pursued a cautious policy in order to preserve the state. In 1390, she accepted a vassal relationship with the Ottomans, which allowed Serbia to retain a certain degree of independence.

Later, she withdrew from secular life and became a nun in her own endowment, Ljubostinja Monastery, where she received the name Eugenia. She died in 1405 and it is believed that she attained the status of a saint through the veneration of the people and the Church during the first half of the 15th century. Her relics are kept precisely at Ljubostinja Monastery.

After visiting Lazarica Church, I went down to the centre of Kruševac.

After an absolutely wonderful lunch in Martina Franca, an exceptionally charming town in the Apulia region (or Puglia, as the Italians call it), I set off for a walk through the historic centre of the city, with the intention of visiting a few more interesting places.

However, here it is enough simply to walk aimlessly, as there is something beautiful and picturesque to see at every corner. For example, I passed by the "The Courtyard House Le Marangi” from the first half of the 18th century. As I read on the plaque that stands there, at some point, they began to build townhouses with multiple residential units, as well as buildings for domestic animals and storage, all around a shared courtyard. This essentially represented the transition from rural to urban life and this house is one of the rare examples of this type of building that has survived in Martina Franca to this day.

Martina Franca

There were other picturesque details as well.

Martina Franca

And then I returned to one of the main squares – Piazza Maria Immacolata.

Martina Franca

By a building on the corner of this square, the woman I had captured in the photograph published in the previous section was still sitting calmly on an improvised bench, probably waiting for someone.

Martina Franca

As for Piazza Maria Immacolata, since the sun had started shining on it from the other side, it looked even more beautiful than when I first arrived there.

Martina Franca

From here, I could also see the Collegiate Church of St. Martin of Tours on Piazza Plebiscito, so I then continued to that square.

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Now I glanced once again at Piazza Maria Immacolata and then I slipped into the narrow streets of the historic centre of Martina Franca.

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

This way, I arrived at the former Convent of the Augustinian nuns, but everything there seemed calm and closed off.

Martina Franca

Since the streets here are extremely narrow and winding, it was very difficult to find a good angle to capture a building, and this former convent could easily appear as just a regular townhouse if it weren't for the cross on the top.

Martina Franca

I also decided to take a little walk through the old neighbourhood called La Lama and then I headed towards the train station, as I was on my way to another charming town in the Itria Valley.

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

That other town is called Locorotondo and it is located roughly halfway by train between Alberobello and Martina Franca. It really doesn’t matter in which order these towns are visited. I wanted to go to Martina Franca first, but it would have been perfectly fine if I had visited Locorotondo first.

What I found interesting along the way were the landscapes through which the train passed.

Between Martina Franca and Locorotondo

In addition to seeing fields, olive groves and vineyards, various trulli could often be spotted as well, which only shows how popular this method of building structures is here.

Between Martina Franca and Locorotondo

Everything looks even better, or rather, gives a better impression when viewed in video format:

And then I spotted Locorotondo at the top of the hill.

Locorotondo

From the train station in Locorotondo, it takes about 15 minutes on foot to reach the historic centre of the town. Along the way, I occasionally stopped to capture a beautiful or interesting detail.

Locorotondo

Locorotondo

When you reach the top of the hill, directly across from the entrance to the town centre, there is a park with a monument to the fallen soldiers. However, what was more important to me – from there, you get an outstanding view of the Itria Valley. This is definitely a spot worth stopping at.

Locorotondo

View at Itria Valley

On one side, I could see the areas I had just passed through by train and in the distance, there was Martina Franca.

View at Itria Valley

On the other side, much closer, I could see the farmland, as well as some tourist facilities. In any case, everything looked very beautiful.

View at Itria Valley

Now I set off for the historic centre of the town. Locorotondo literally means "round place," as it has a nearly perfect circular layout. It is also a part of the group I Borghi più belli d'Italia (The Most Beautiful Villages of Italy), which is the name of a private association of small Italian towns that are particularly interesting in historical or artistic terms.

Locorotondo

Locorotondo

Locorotondo

Locorotondo

Locorotondo is smaller than Martina Franca, and it seems to me that it’s also more compact, which might make it appear more modest in some way. However, it certainly deserves a walk and I thoroughly enjoyed it that day. So, I first went to Palazzo Morelli.

Morelli Palace

Once again, the narrowness of the street prevented me from getting a better shot of the palace, but the details visible in the previous and next photographs are illustrative enough.

This is a palace that represents a good example of local Baroque architecture. It’s not exactly known when the first building was erected on this site, but it is known that it was significantly renovated during the 18th century, while the facade seen in my photos dates from that period. What I found particularly interesting is that the top of the portal is actually a balcony.

Morelli Palace

I took photos of the some details and then continued to the nearby Parish Church of St. George the Martyr.

Locorotondo

Church of Saint George Martyr

This is a church the construction of which began in 1790 on the site of an earlier church from the 12th century. Due to various reasons and problems, the church was completed only in 1825. The church also has a tall bell tower, but it is only occasionally visible (again, due to the narrow space).

Church of Saint George Martyr

The interior of the church is exceptionally beautiful and elegant.

Church of Saint George Martyr

Church of Saint George Martyr

After leaving the church, I wandered a bit around the streets nearby, hoping to spot some details a bit better. Well, I didn’t...

Locorotondo

Locorotondo

Then I left the historic centre of Locorotondo, but only for a short while, as I went to visit the nearby Church of Madonna della Greca, the oldest church in the town. The first building on this site was erected in the 7th and 8th centuries, but that church was reconstructed in the 15th century.

Church of Madonna della Greca

It is believed that this church was built in 1481, just outside the city walls, and this decision was linked to the lack of available land in the crowded centre. This situation is exactly what led to the narrow streets I mentioned earlier in the text.

What I particularly liked about this church was the rose window above the portal, while the interior, all in white, was very elegant.

Church of Madonna della Greca

Church of Madonna della Greca

Now I returned to the historic centre of Locorotondo and wandered for a while through the very beautiful and charming streets, which were full of various picturesque details.

Locorotondo

Locorotondo

Locorotondo

Locorotondo

I also stopped for a coffee, while a little later I made my way down to the train station, waited for the train and headed back to Alberobello. The landscapes were still very picturesque.

Locorotondo

Upon returning to Alberobello, I first went to the flat I had rented here and a little later, when it had already gotten dark, I went for a short walk. Of course, first I had to visit the viewpoint, from where I marvelled at the beauty and charm of the whitewashed trulli with their distinctive conical stone roofs, even at this time of day.

Alberobello at night

Then I descended to the area between the two hills (Parco Largo Martelotta) and took a stroll through the Monti district. Although it wasn’t very late, it was incredibly peaceful and I would only occasionally come across a few other visitors who, like me, enjoyed walking through these streets in the evening.

Alberobello at night

Later, I returned to the flat and the next day, I continued my journey through Apulia. In the morning, I wasn’t in a hurry and, overall, my pace of exploring Apulia was quite relaxed, especially compared to how I usually travel.

Although I was still on the move and exploring, it seems to me that I took more breaks than usual and those breaks were definitely much longer than what I’m used to. After all, I was in Italy and while I think they are a hardworking people, they did come up with the saying Dolce far niente! (literally: "It's sweet to do nothing").

I’m not sure how the Italians arrived at this, but the way I see it, this saying fits perfectly with my stay in Italy because, no matter where I sit, there is always so much beauty and interesting details around me that I never feel like it’s too much or boring to, for example, stretch a coffee out for an hour or more, even though I could objectively drink it and "enjoy the break" in just 10 minutes.

All in all, after a leisurely wake-up and packing, I left the flat in Alberobello and headed to the train station. My next destination was the town of Ostuni.

Although these two towns are only about 30 km apart in a straight line, even by car, it takes around 40 minutes to drive because you have to go around a bit. Public transportation takes much longer, as it requires a transfer.

To get an idea of the places I visited on this trip, here is a map showing them all:

As for my transfer by local trains, I had already settled into my relaxed rhythm, so none of it bothered me. After all, by rule, I could only check into all the rooms/flats I rented on this trip after 3 p.m., so there was no point in rushing, especially since I couldn’t leave my big backpack everywhere.

However, in Ostuni, I had arranged with the flat owner that I could come as early as around 2 p.m., so I adjusted my rhythm to that time.

What’s special about Ostuni is that the train station is not in the town itself, but in the nearby settlement of Zona Sisri (though the station is called Ostuni). From there, you need to catch a local bus that takes you, among other places, to Ostuni, which is about 4 km uphill.

I got off the bus relatively close to the flat I had rented, so I put my big backpack on and started walking uphill. I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised by my fitness. I did occasionally get out of breath and had to stop for a short break, but I still felt relatively light on my feet. And there were some very demanding sections!

Ostuni, a detail

The owner of the flat was there when I arrived and he was actually still finishing up the cleaning of the flat after the previous guests. However, it was enough for me to leave my luggage, both the large and small backpacks. I then casually started heading towards the centre of Ostuni.

The historic centre (centro storico) of Ostuni has an elliptical layout and in many ways it is similar to the historic centres of the towns I had already visited. However, that doesn’t mean it’s not worth a visit. The place is very charming and has several particularly interesting buildings.

Since it was already afternoon, I didn’t want to start sightseeing right away. Instead, I decided to sit down at a restaurant on the spacious Piazza della Libertà, just outside the historic centre, and have lunch.

This time, I chose pizza, primarily because they offered a version with Calabrian sausage ’nduja (which I really liked). I also ordered wine, which I usually avoid in the middle of the day because it makes me very sleepy. But since I wasn’t in a rush, it was perfectly fine.

Lunch in Ostuni

The pizza was so visually impressive that I had to take a photo of it from another angle.

Lunch in Ostuni

And the taste... Well, the taste was spectacular and I continued to enjoy it for a long time, gently digesting in my stomach.

After the wonderful and long relaxation following lunch and thanks to that glass of wine which "knocked me out" a bit, leaving me feeling a bit sluggish, I eventually started strolling around Ostuni.

To begin with, I noted some buildings and details right on Piazza della Libertà.

On the square, there’s the municipal hall of Ostuni and right next to it is the Church of Saint Francis of Assisi. I decided to leave the visit to the church for later.

Ostuni, a detail

At the opposite end of the square, where the street branches off and forms another smaller square, there is the Column of Saint Orontius. Saint Orontius is an important local Catholic saint and, according to legend, he even met Saint Paul and was appointed as the first bishop of the city of Lecce.

Ostuni, a detail

Then slowly, since I was still feeling the effects of that wine, I started my walk around the outskirts of the historic centre of Ostuni, before eventually wandering into its narrow streets.

I have met Tanja through my friend Sonja. From the very first time we met, it was clear that she was a genuinely lovely woman – friendly, talkative, interesting, and wonderful to spend time with.

At the beginning of 2026, the two of us even talked about taking a week-long trip to France together. In the end, though, it didn't fit into Tanja's other plans and it actually worked out perfectly for me as well because I was unexpectedly offered an amazing and exceptionally rare business trip. So, everything fell into place, the universe was in harmony and everything turned out exactly as it should and in the best possible way for everyone.

Then Tanja invited me to visit her in June in Blace, a town in southern Serbia.

Tanja has a family house in Blace and every year she celebrates her Slava (family's patron saint's day) there, Saints Bartholomew and Barnabas the Apostles, which, I would say, is quite an uncommon Slava. It is observed on 24 June.

I knew that Sonja, as well as Jasna, Tanja's childhood friend, went to Blace every year for the celebration. On the one hand, it is a wonderful few days of women spending time together, and on the other, close friends help Tanja prepare for the celebration. In 2026, I had the honour of being included as well – both to enjoy the company and to lend a hand. I happily accepted the invitation.

Besides looking forward to spending time with these wonderful women, this was also a great opportunity for me to visit some of the cultural heritage sites that interested me along the way to Blace and in that part of Serbia.

So, I agreed with both Sonja, who was driving her own car, and Tanja, with whom I would be staying, that I would leave a day earlier so I could explore the places that interested me. And that's exactly what I did.

Without any particular rush, I set off from Belgrade one Saturday morning, heading south along the motorway.

Here is a map showing all the towns and sites I visited during this trip:

At one point, I left the motorway and then I drove to Varvarin. There are two cultural heritage monuments there that are listed by Serbia's national Institute for the Protection of Cultural Monuments, which is my main source of basic information. I first drove to the landmark known as the "Site of the Battle of Varvarin and the Monument to Count O'Rourke," located about 4.5 km south of Varvarin.

I have to admit right away that I had never even heard of the Battle of Varvarin, let alone Count O'Rourke. Clearly, I should have done a bit more reading to fill in this gap in my education.

So, the Battle of Varvarin was fought in September 1810 on the Varvarin Plain. It was part of the First Serbian Uprising, which began in 1804 when the Serbs initially rose up against the Dahijas, marking the beginning of the long process of liberation after centuries of Ottoman rule (see: https://www.svudapodji.com/en/south-of-belgrade/).

By a twist of history, two years later, in 1806, the Russo-Turkish War broke out (lasting until 1812). At the time, Russia saw the Serbs as natural allies who could tie down a significant number of Ottoman troops in the Balkans. From then on, Russia began providing the Serbian insurgents with financial support, weapons, military advisers and, at times, regular army units.

This brings us to the Battle of Varvarin, where the Serbian insurgents fought alongside Russian soldiers. The battle ended in a victory for the combined Serbian-Russian forces, and that victory proved significant both for the further course of the First Serbian Uprising and for the development of cooperation between Serbia and Russia.

However, in 1812, Napoleon launched his invasion of Russia, forcing Russia to conclude peace with the Ottoman Empire as quickly as possible so it could redirect its entire army against France. Since Russia could no longer provide military protection to the Serbs, the Ottomans launched a major offensive in 1813 and crushed the First Serbian Uprising.

A side note from the perspective of 2026: As can also be seen from geopolitical developments around the world in the third decade of the 21st century, when great powers go to war with one another, the conflict rarely remains confined to a single location, a single front, a single country, or even a single continent.

But let me get back to the cultural monument I had come to see. I'm not entirely sure that the broad plain covered with crops across from the monument is actually the Varvarin Plain, although it probably is. What is certain is that in June 2026, everything here was completely peaceful and remarkably beautiful and harmonious.

Varvarin, a detail

Various butterflies added to this sense of harmony and I even managed to photograph one of them. It was a clouded yellow (Colias croceus), a species of butterfly that had landed here to drink nectar from a thistle flower.

Clouded yellow

Across from the meadow where the butterflies were having lunch stands the monument I had come to see – the Monument to Count O'Rourke, shown on the right in the following photograph.

Battle of Varvarin site and monument to Count O’Rourke

Joseph Cornelius O'Rourke came from the old Irish noble O'Rourke family, which left Ireland after the defeat of the Irish Catholics in the 17th century. At that time, many Irish officers entered the service of European states, particularly France, Austria, Spain and Russia. The O'Rourke family eventually settled in the Russian Empire, where it was granted noble status, while its members went on to build distinguished military careers.

During the First Serbian Uprising, Count O'Rourke was a general in the Russian army and commanded the Russian detachment that assisted the Serbian insurgents. He was seriously wounded during the fighting and died shortly afterwards from his injuries. Because of his role in the Battle of Varvarin, he is remembered in Serbian history as one of the Russian officers who gave his life fighting alongside the Serbian insurgents.

Battle of Varvarin site and monument to Count O’Rourke, a detail

Battle of Varvarin site and monument to Count O’Rourke, a detail

At this site, you can also see plaques clearly marking the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Varvarin, commemorated here in 1910, and the 200th anniversary, marked in 2010. It is good to preserve the memory of those who offered help in difficult times.

In order to reach the second cultural monument in Varvarin, I started heading back towards the town centre. At one point, however, I turned off the main road and continued along the paved streets that run more or less around the edge of the town. I even crossed a small bridge that looked rather questionable at first, but it was actually doing its job just fine. Right after the bridge, I parked the car and got out because my map indicated that the cultural monument known as "Knez Mileta's Watermill" should be somewhere nearby. I set off on foot along the only path leading towards the spot marked on the map I was using.

Varvarin, a detail

The watermill was built in the early 19th century by an aga from Jagodina, but his wife and daughter later sold it to Knez Mileta Radojković (1778–1852), after whom the mill was named. Knez Mileta is best known in Serbian history for leading the largest uprising against Prince Miloš Obrenović, the so-called Mileta's Rebellion, in January 1835. The rebels sought to limit the prince's authority through a constitution, which ultimately led to the adoption of the Sretenje Constitution in February 1835, the first modern constitution in Serbia. In other words, Knez Mileta was, indirectly, a very important historical figure in the development of Serbian statehood. The mill that belonged to him is an important example of traditional vernacular architecture. Built of logs and equipped with four millstones, it underwent several alterations over the years.

As I walked along this grassy dirt path, watching where I was stepping, I soon came upon a house. I called out a cheerful greeting in order to see if anyone was around. A man appeared and I asked him about Knez Mileta's Watermill. He told me that I had already walked right past it and pointed out where it was. He also said that he had wanted to repair it, but that "the institute in Kraljevo wouldn't let him" (I assume he meant the regional institute responsible for the protection of cultural monuments). And then, the watermill collapsed.

Knez Mileta’s watermill in June 2026

I understand that we are not a wealthy country and that an old watermill on the outskirts of a small town like Varvarin may not be considered a priority. But we do not have Versailles, or the Colosseum, or the Taj Mahal; what we have are watermills from the beginning of the 19th century – or, rather, we HAD some of them. Now we do not even have that. I was left speechless. Perhaps a sign should be placed here saying: “Future generations remembering the deeds of those who came before them”?

Knez Mileta’s watermill in June 2026

Quite disappointed, I then made my way to the centre of Varvarin, parked the car in a lovely shady spot and sat down to have a coffee.

Varvarin, a detail

However, I did not want to reduce my visit to the centre of Varvarin to just one coffee and a pleasant chat with the young woman who worked there. So I went for a short walk, which first took me along the main street, from where I could observe the central parts of the town.

Varvarin, a detail

Varvarin, a detail

I also passed by a house where fresh vegetables and a variety of homemade preserves were being offered for sale under a canopy. Since I am a woman who makes her own preserves, I did not buy anything, but I certainly admired the selection.

Varvarin, a detail

Then I came to the park near the Church of the Assumption of the Most Holy Theotokos. I did not have much time, as there was still a lot more I had planned to do, so I did not go to the church to look for Knez Mileta’s grave, which is somewhere nearby. However, along the way, I did pass by the monument to Jova Kursula.

Jovan Petrović, better known as Jova Kursula (1768–1813), was a famous Serbian hero and fighter in the First Serbian Uprising. According to tradition, he was tall and strong, and although he fought alongside Karađorđe, the leader of the uprising, in many battles, he was particularly known as a megdanžija – a warrior who challenged the strongest enemy fighters to single combat. Thus, in 1810, on the Varvarin Plain, he killed in a duel a Turkish champion known as the Black Arab, which made Kursula one of the most celebrated heroes of the uprising. This is why his name is prominently featured on the monument erected in the centre of Varvarin to mark the 100th anniversary of the battle.

Varvarin, a detail

I was actually heading here towards the bridge that I had crossed by car when I arrived in Varvarin and that is located about 100 m from the town’s main church. It is a bridge over the Velika Morava River (the Great Morava), which is only about 4 km long at this point, since just that distance upstream, closer to Stalać, lies the confluence of the Zapadna Morava (West Morava) and Južna Morava (South Morava) rivers.

Varvarin, a detail

Varvarin, a detail

On my way back to the car, I also passed by an important memorial.

During the 78-day NATO bombing campaign of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (Serbia and Montenegro) in 1999, when neither Serbia nor Montenegro had attacked any member state of NATO, which to this day likes to describe itself as a defensive military alliance, NATO aircraft targeted the bridge in Varvarin on 30 May. By the way, the bridge had no significant military importance and there were no military facilities in its immediate vicinity. NATO stated after the attack that it had considered the bridge a legitimate military target.

However, that day was the feast of the Holy Trinity (Pentecost), and a fair and open market were being held in the town, so there were many people near the bridge. The very first aircraft strike caused injuries and several minutes later, when citizens and rescuers rushed to help the wounded, a second attack followed, in which the largest number of people were killed. Ten people lost their lives, while 17 others were seriously injured.

Later that same year, the bridge was rebuilt, largely thanks to charitable contributions from Serbs living and working in Switzerland.

In memory of these events, a small memorial site has been erected on a small plateau across the road from the park with the church.

Varvarin, a detail

After this short stop, I returned to the car and drove to the neighbouring village of Stalać. There, I first went to the Church of St. Archangels (Michael and Gabriel), which is located about 2 km south of the settlement.

Church of St. Archangels (Michael and Gabriel)

Although some sources state that the church dates back to the 14th century, recent archaeological research indicates that it was built during the period of Ottoman occupation, most likely in the 16th or 17th century. Regardless, the church has been classified as an immovable cultural property of great importance.

The churchyard is very nicely maintained and when I arrived here, I saw a young woman who suggested that I immediately buy candles, which were being sold on the porch of a modern house built slightly above the church. I also noticed that a plateau with a large cross had been constructed above this house, with an asphalt road leading up to it.

Church of St. Archangels (Michael and Gabriel), a detail

I bought the candles, but when I went down to the church, it turned out to be locked. The young woman said she would see if the church could be opened and she went into the house.

Church of St. Archangels (Michael and Gabriel), a detail

A plaque on the church states that the construction of the church we see here today began in 1988, on the foundations of an older church that was destroyed in the 18th century.

In any case, the ground plan of the church is of a triconch (trefoil) design, with the semicircular apse being more spacious, while the side conches are shallower. The materials I consulted mostly describe what the church used to look like, or what it might have looked like, and they also mention that the frescoes have survived only in fragments.

Soon, the young woman came out of the house and said that the church could not be opened because, apparently, someone inside was talking on the phone.

What could I do? I went over to light the candles, thinking that at least that would be something. Then it turned out that the place provided for lighting candles was the most impractical one I had ever seen. It clearly stated on typed pieces of paper that the candles should not be placed against the metal wall, but instead should be fixed with their own melted wax onto the surface, which in this case was made of marble. The problem was that the candles simply would not stick to the surface and this was not just my case, because all the candles that had been lit before had also fallen over. It was disappointing and I thought about how there is usually no point in trying to reinvent the wheel. I realised that this must happen regularly and that is why people tend to lean their candles against the wall, which apparently bothers the church and/or the priest. I think that by now they could have found a better solution, i.e., returning to the traditional base made of sand/gravel with water.

Church of St. Archangels (Michael and Gabriel), a detail

On the other hand, the church has a very charming appearance, if that can be considered the right expression, and I have already mentioned that the churchyard is exceptionally well maintained.

Church of St. Archangels (Michael and Gabriel)

Then I headed back towards Stalać, parts of which are situated on both banks of the South Morava River. On the left bank, on elevated ground, lie the remains of the medieval Stalać Fortress. I was able to see the keep even from the road along the right bank of the South Morava, which I took on my way back from the church towards the settlement.

View at Stalać Fortress

Since I was already driving slowly here, occasionally glancing towards the remains of the fortification, I noticed a stork as well, so I stopped briefly to take a photo of it.

Stork in Stalać

Now I had to take a somewhat roundabout route because that is how the roads run, but I eventually reached the part of Stalać located on the left bank of the South Morava. There, I needed to follow the road uphill, but the signs were confusing me and the navigation was even worse, so I asked some people I passed for directions. After a bit more wandering around, I finally made my way up to the remains of the medieval fortress located on this elevated ground, which is almost squeezed between the South and West Morava rivers as they prepare to merge into the Velika Morava about 3 km to the north.

Although the keep that one encounters here is extremely impressive, I first took a moment to look westward, where a section of the West Morava River can be seen.

View from Stalać Fortress

I did the same in the opposite direction, where the river could not be seen because of the trees, but this was also the area where the Church of St. Archangels, which I had visited earlier, is located.

View from Stalać Fortress

And now, let me say something about the medieval town of Stalać, or rather, its fortress.

Stalać had strategic importance because it provided excellent control over the approach to Kruševac, the medieval capital of Moravian Serbia. Nevertheless, traces can be found here suggesting that this advantageous position had also been used earlier for protecting the main Roman road in this area, which ran across the South Morava River. The medieval fortress was built sometime between approximately 1350 and 1375, and it was first mentioned in historical records in 1377. Based on old sources, it is known that the fortress was destroyed by the Ottoman Sultan Musa in 1413, while he was on his way to Kruševac. After its destruction, the fortress was never rebuilt as a military stronghold and lost its strategic importance.

Today, the fortress has been declared a cultural monument of great importance and represents one of the most significant medieval fortifications in the Velika Morava Valley.

Archaeological research shows that the fortress occupied an area of approximately 400 × 200 m and consisted of the Great Town, which contained residential and economic buildings, and the Small Town (castle), which represented the most heavily fortified part of the complex.

The best-preserved structure is the main keep tower, known as Todor's Tower. It is a four-story defensive tower that served as the final line of defence and also functioned as a lookout point.

Stalać Fortress, a detail

By the way, the name "Todor's Tower" does not come from any historical figure, but rather from local tradition that developed through the blending of folk memory and epic poetry ("The Death of Voivode Prijezda"). This is how the hero known as "Todor of Stalać" came into being.

Stalać Fortress, a detail

The preserved remains of the former fortress include sections of the walls, foundations of some structures, and Todor's Tower. Researchers therefore talk about the Great Town and the Small Town, the remains of a palace with a portico, and so on, but these features are much harder to identify on site unless you are an archaeologist or historian. There are no information boards, at least none that I saw, but it was certainly interesting to walk around this relatively small site.

Stalać Fortress, a detail

Nevertheless, a visitor’s focus inevitably turns towards Todor’s Tower.

Stalać Fortress, a detail

Stalać Fortress, a detail

Stalać Fortress, a detail

Then I returned to the car and drove it a little further down the slope of this hill, because another important cultural monument is located there.

The town of Alberobello in the Italian region of Apulia is famous for its houses with roofs made of stone slabs, featuring characteristic pyramidal, conical, or domed shapes. Although this technique, using corbelled limestone slabs, existed in this part of the world since prehistoric times, the construction of such houses in the area of present-day Alberobello began in the mid-14th century. Buildings constructed in this style can be seen throughout Apulia, especially in the Itria Valley. However, they are most numerous and concentrated in the town of Alberobello itself and I came here precisely in order to enjoy the picturesque trulli, as these houses are called (singular – trullo, plural – trulli). In the neighbourhoods of Rione Monti and Rione Aia Piccola, there are over 1,600 of these structures.

In general, trulli were built as temporary shelters and storage units in the fields, but also as permanent dwellings for owners of smaller estates or agricultural workers. Over time, two settlements (Monti and Aia Piccola) formed in the area of modern-day Alberobello and these are now integral parts of the town.

Recognising the importance of these trulli, parts of Alberobello were protected as heritage monuments between 1909 and 1936.

After a wonderfully restful night, I woke up bright and refreshed, and quite early. I got ready relatively quickly and set off for another walk through Alberobello with the desire to take advantage of the good position of the sun, the absence of clouds, and the lack of too many people, so I could photograph once more. Everything turned out just as I had hoped and I started from the point that offers a beautiful view of the Monti neighbourhood.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

I descended again to the flat area between the two elevations and from there, I took a shot of the Monti neighbourhood.

Alberobello

I was extremely happy that I had arrived here so early. Every now and then, a person would appear, but what mattered most to me was that the light was perfect, and the scenes... Well, I was in Italy, and there, somehow, everything is always beautiful and picturesque.

Alberobello

I again started along one of the main streets that goes uphill, then I would turn left or right until I reached another larger street, and I repeated this several times, photographing various parts that caught my eye this morning. Was I bored or did I feel lazy to photograph places I had already seen and photographed the previous afternoon? Absolutely not! I enjoyed every moment and felt truly delighted.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

And then I decided to give some meaning to my walk, rather than just randomly wandering through these streets. Although the trulli themselves are already incredibly picturesque and interesting, there are a few of these buildings that stand out because of some special feature. So, I first went to the "Siamese Trullo" (Trullo Siamese), which is named like that because it consists of two trulli connected into one. I first viewed it from one side, and then from the other.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Now, I returned to the flat square/park between the elevations, and then climbed back up to the viewpoint. It seemed to me that with every shift of the sun across the sky, the beauty of the landscape changed in its form, yet its essence remained constant.

Alberobello

After this, I ventured just a little into the Aia Piccola neighbourhood. Here, I reached a square that is now called Piazza XXVII Maggio, but it is mentioned in several places that this used to be a square called Piazza del Mercato, which was the historical market area connecting the Monti and Aia Piccola neighbourhoods. I must admit that I’m not entirely sure if this is exactly the spot – it doesn’t seem like it to me (it would make more sense for it to refer to the current area between the two elevations), and the sign next to an important trullo by the square says that it used to be a square under a different name. What I’m trying to say is that documents and maps aren’t always entirely clear. However, since this square was mentioned as significant in the documentation I used, and various maps indicated that it was indeed here, I went ahead and photographed it.

Alberobello

In the square itself, there is also the Territory Museum (Museo del Territorio), or the Historical Museum (Museo Storico), which is housed in the former Pezzolla House (Casa Pezzolla), named after its former owner, who was a doctor and lived in the late 18th century. This place is interesting because it is the largest complex of interconnected trulli and what makes it even more fascinating is that different trulli were added at different times. But even if I had wanted to visit the museum, it was still too early, and it wasn’t open yet.

Alberobello

I stepped back a bit and photographed this complex from the other side.

Alberobello

Then, I returned to the larger central square – Piazza del Popolo, and at the very northern corner of the square, there is another interesting building.

Alberobello

It is a house called Casa d'Amore, which sounds like "House of Love," but... The house actually got its name from its first owner, Francesco d'Amore. So, it has nothing to do with romantic love.

Alberobello

The house was built in 1797 and has an irregular ground plan. It is interesting because it represents a transitional architectural phase from the rustic trullo to a palace. The building is made of bricks, while mortar was also used in its construction, but the roof is made of thin limestone slabs, so in that aspect, it resembles a trullo.

On Piazza del Popolo, there is also a beautiful municipal building, which has nothing to do with trulli, but this is just to show that there are other types of buildings in Alberobello as well.

Alberobello

One of the different types of buildings is the main church in Alberobello – the Church of Saints Cosmas and Damian.

Alberobello

The church was built in 1882 on the site of a 17th-century chapel. On the outside, it appears extremely impressive, partly due to its location, while inside, there is a sense of peace and elegance.

Alberobello

In order to visit another significant trullo, you need to pass right by this church, while Trullo Sovrano is located a little farther. It is the only two-story trullo in Alberobello, which has since been turned into a museum.

Alberobello

This trullo was built in the first half of the 18th century. The upper floor is accessed by an internal staircase and interestingly, these are some of the first stairs made using mortar. The reason this is interesting is that trulli were traditionally built without mortar, using the a secco technique or the so-called drywall. The original owner was a priest and later the building was used as a courthouse, chapel, grocery shop, monastery and as a private residence. Today, it is owned by the Sumerano family. It is also significant that in 1785, the relics of Saints Cosmas and Damian, the patrons of the town, were temporarily housed here. The highest part of the trullo is the domed roof above the room on the upper floor, with its peak rising to a height of 14 m.

Alberobello

Based on what I have read, it is definitely worth it for a visitor to go inside and see the trullo in that way. However, it was closed during my visit, so I could only explore it from the outside a bit.

Alberobello

Now I descended to the train station, and soon I was on the local train that took me to Martina Franca. I had already mentioned that trulli are most prevalent in the Itria Valley and this railway line practically took me through that valley. Besides a lot of fields, olive groves and vineyards, I often saw trulli along the way as well.

Alberobello

The train station in Martina Franca is about 1 km away from the historical centre, so it takes around 15 minutes on foot to reach the main destination. You also have to walk a bit uphill, but it's nothing dramatic. Along the way, you pass through the newer parts of the town, but when I say "newer," that doesn't mean buildings from the 21st century made of glass and metal.

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Close to the historical centre, I passed by an ice-cream parlour that had a sticker on the door showing it was part of a professional network of gelato makers (Artisti del Gelato), who use 100% natural ingredients for their products. Of course, I had to stop there. I got two scoops of ice-cream – one was a combination of bergamot and ginger, and the other a combination of almonds and figs. Ooh... what a delight that was!

Martina Franca

Near this ice-cream parlour, I noticed a kind of an urban flea market, so I took a little stroll through it. Not because I was particularly interested in buying anything, but more to see what it was like and to get a sense of the local customs.

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Then, I made my way to the historical centre through the Villa Garibaldi town park.

Martina Franca

The old town or the historical centre of Martina Franca is full of narrow, winding streets, and there are several larger and smaller squares. There are multiple ways to enter this area, but I decided to start with what is almost the "main entrance," which is from Piazza XX Settembre. The square is lined with trees, and it all leads towards the Santo Stefano gate (Porta Santo Stefano).

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

As soon as you pass through the gate, you arrive at another square – Piazza Roma, where there is also a 17th-century palace – Palazzo Ducale.

Martina Franca

Within the town, there are many interesting churches, palaces and monasteries, and I made an effort to visit all or almost all of them. However, the main beauty of the town comes from its streets and squares, as well as the various details that can be observed there. I believe it's more than enough to simply wander aimlessly through this part of the town and a visitor would be completely satisfied with the experience.

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

I started by following the main route from Porta Santo Stefano and soon I arrived at a square – Piazza Plebiscito.

Martina Franca

While walking through the town, I arrived here a bit later as well and I photographed it again when the sun was in a different position. So, I will now use photographs from both series (this may not matter to others, but it does to me).

In the square, there are two significant buildings – one is the University Palace (Palazzo dell’Università) with a clock tower (on the left in the photo below), and the other is the Basilica San Martino (on the right in the photo).

Martina Franca

The name University Palace here has nothing to do with an educational institution. Instead, it comes from a term used in southern Italy to designate the seat of the municipality or local parliament, emphasising the universal nature of such an institution, which was responsible for addressing the needs of all social classes.

At the end of the 15th century, a building on this site was chosen for meetings of the local parliament in Martina Franca. The building underwent significant alterations between 1734 and 1761, in line with the dominant Baroque style of the time, while a clock tower was also built. The second floor was added in the 19th century.

University Palace

University Palace, a detail

University Palace, a detail

The other significant building in this square is the Collegiate Church of St. Martin of Tours, which replaced an older church from the 14th century. The church seen here today was built between 1747 and 1785, although it was consecrated even before the construction was completed.

Collegiate Church of St. Martin of Tours

Collegiate Church of St. Martin of Tours, the interior

Collegiate Church of St. Martin of Tours, the interior

Piazza Plebiscito is connected to another irregularly shaped square, but one that is exceptionally beautiful and charming. This square is called Piazza Maria Immacolata.

Martina Franca

There are no historically significant buildings here, but the place is absolutely magical. Since I saw a few cafes and restaurants, I immediately knew what I would do first, and that can be seen in the next photo.

Martina Franca

As I sat there, I was deeply soaking in the scenes around me – on one side, there were various interesting details, and on the other, the sun and clouds were constantly creating new effects. So, after finishing my coffee, I stayed a little longer to take more photos.

Martina Franca, a detail

Martina Franca

In the next photo, you can see both Piazza Maria Immacolata and the Collegiate Church of St. Martin of Tours.

Martina Franca

Now, I set off for a walk around Martina Franca, searching for some churches, but along the way, I was enjoying the picturesque streets.

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

This led me to the Church of St. Vitus (Chiesa di San Vito), which is one of the oldest churches in the city – it was built at the end of the 13th century and the beginning of the 14th century. The strict facade is made of ashlars, while the bell tower with three arches was added in the 15th century. The church was closed during my visit.

Church of St. Vitus

Then, I took a walk to another locally known church, the Church of St. Dominic (Chiesa di San Domenico), but due to the narrow streets, it was difficult to fully capture it. So, I had to photograph its facade from a side street.

Martina Franca

Church of St. Dominic

This Baroque church was built in 1745 by a Dominican monk and it is connected to the Dominican monastery from the 15th century. The interior of the church is very impressive and beautiful.

Church of St. Dominic, the interior

Church of St. Dominic, the interior

I continued my walk through Martina Franca, but now I had a very important and specific mission. Along the way, however, I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful and picturesque details that Martina Franca has in abundance.

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

Martina Franca

And then, I arrived at the place I was looking for – a nice local restaurant. I could not help myself and my eyes were bigger than my stomach, so I ordered both a serious appetizer and a serious main dish, but in the end, I managed to finish everything.

First, the "snacks" and water arrived.

Lunch in Martina Franca

For the appetizer, I had Apulian pasta – orecchiette in the Bari style (Orecchietta Barese).

Lunch in Martina Franca

And for the main dish – traditional braciole (Brasciola alla tradizione).

Lunch in Martina Franca

Everything was absolutely delicious and afterwards it took me a good few hours to recover because I had eaten so much. However, not for a single moment did I regret it.

I was very pleased with the flat I rented in Bari, mainly because of its location. The fact is that it was a bit farther from Old Bari, but it was very close to the train station as well as the coach terminals. The latter, the coaches, was important to me on the day I left Bari because I used them to get to my new destination – an incredibly charming place called Alberobello.

It was necessary for me to walk uphill a little from the coach stop, which is in the square in front of the Alberobello train station, in order to reach the flat I had rented there, but this didn’t bother me in the slightest. On the contrary, I was quite satisfied. I’m not sure what exactly caused my excellent mood. The truth is, Italy usually evokes the most beautiful possible feelings in me that I can associate with a country, which I must admit is quite abstract, but also twisted; however, it’s no less true in my case. On the other hand, I set off on this trip carrying a large backpack. It’s simply easier for me to move around with it, especially since I don’t fill it completely (it weighed about 9 kg when I measured it at the airport). The bags with wheels have their advantages, but if I have to cover a longer distance, especially on the streets, the noise they make bothers me a lot and, secondly, every time I encounter a curb or steps, I have to carry the bag in my hand, which is difficult and uncomfortable for me. Finally, I move much slower with it. So, the backpack is the right choice for me. Moreover, it was important that I didn’t mind walking at all while carrying it on my back, and I actually felt quite light, which made me especially happy.

All in all, in such a mood, I briefly stopped and took a selfie.

I have arrived in Alberobello

Alberobello is known as a place where there are a large number of houses known as trulli (the singular is "trullo" and the plural is "trulli"). These houses can be found throughout Apulia, but their concentration here in such a small area is almost unbelievable. In fact, maybe it isn’t. There is a lot of stone in Apulia and people were poor for centuries, so they used the materials that were easily accessible to them and also employed a prehistoric technique to build their houses, without using mortar. That is, the houses have what is called a drywall. The houses seen here today are mostly whitewashed, but the roofs stand out, where you can easily see the beautifully arranged stone slabs. As people became more economically prosperous, especially in the 20th century, this type of construction lost its importance, but the remaining examples have become cultural monuments. To such an extent that they are recognised and acknowledged on a global scale. In fact, the Trulli of Alberobello are on the UNESCO’s World Heritage List.

The largest number of these houses are concentrated in two neighbourhoods – Monti and Aia Piccola – but such houses can be seen throughout the town and I noticed a few of them as I was heading towards the flat I had rented here for two days.

I had arranged with the owner when I would arrive, which was before the official check-in time, as the flat needed to be cleaned and prepared for me as the new tenant. However, this incredibly kind woman told me I could come earlier because she would be there and I could leave my things. And that’s exactly what happened – she gave me the key right away and said she would let me know when the apartment was completely ready.

I used that time to go for a nice coffee, which turned out to be a good choice since it was raining lightly for a while, so I wouldn't have gone sightseeing anyway. When the flat owner told me that it was ready, I went there to grab what I needed for my first, initial exploration of the town.

However, I had to take some photos of the apartment first. I rarely take photos of the places I stay in, because it’s usually not important, and I’m just there to sleep for a night or two. But this place was fantastic. By chance, I had rented (at quite a reasonable price) a space that could comfortably accommodate at least 3-4 people. That wasn't particularly important to me, but the beauty of the space and ultimately the fact that I was staying in one of the traditional trulli houses, was especially dear to my heart.

Rented flat in Alberobello

In the neighbourhoods of Monti and Aia Piccola, most of the houses have been adapted to meet the needs of tourists – whether they are places to stay, converted into souvenir shops, restaurants, cafes, etc. However, staying in this part of Alberobello comes at a price and it’s quite high. That’s not for me. This way, I managed to get the best of both worlds, which is a rather rare occurrence in life.

My bedroom in Alberobello

Soon, I set off for a walk and by one of the central streets, Corso Vittorio Emanuele, I reached Piazza del Popolo. As can be seen, Alberobello also has "normal" buildings, too.

Alberobello

Not far from this square, there is also a viewpoint offering an excellent view of the Monti neighbourhood and its trulli houses.

Alberobello

As I travelled around Apulia in the following days, looking through the windows of the trains that took me from place to place, I couldn't stop admiring the incredibly hardworking people of this part of Italy. I concluded that they are exceptionally industrious based on my observations of the fields. In them, you can still see pieces of stone in the soil, but they are relatively small. The larger stones have evidently been removed from the land by the hardworking people of Apulia over the centuries, so they could cultivate it. From these larger stones, they built miles and miles of fences between plots, usually with fields, olive groves and vineyards. Additionally, larger pieces of limestone were extracted from the fields and roughly shaped into stone slabs, which were used to build houses. Particularly impressive are those pyramidal, semi-circular or dome-shaped roofs made by using corbelled limestone slabs. This can also be seen in the following photograph.

Alberobello

But, as I’ve mentioned, such houses can be seen throughout Alberobello and I wanted to go and grab something to eat first. I left the visit to the Monti neighbourhood for a little later and now I had moved from the more modern part of the town into the Aia Piccola neighbourhood. There, I reached Casa Lippolis, which was built as a private residence at the end of the 18th century by the local archpriest Vitonofrio Lippolis.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Nearby, I found a restaurant I liked, so I sat down there. I first ordered a very tasty Limoncello Spritz, which is quite rare for me – in the sense that I usually don’t drink alcohol during the day. However, I was so wonderfully relaxed that I enjoyed being a little "naughty." After all, the flat and the room were quite close, so I wasn’t too worried. Besides, I needed to refresh myself a little.

Limoncello Spritz in Alberobello

Soon, the food arrived. For an appetizer, I had burrata. It’s a cheese typical of Apulia, made from cow's milk, as a combination of mozzarella and cream. I absolutely love it, so it was only logical that I would eat it often while here.

Burrata in Alberobello

For the main course, I had octopus with roasted cherry tomatoes.

Octopus in Alberobello

It was a wonderful lunch and I enjoyed every moment of it. I didn’t even mind that my head was spinning a bit. When I finished eating and gathered enough strength to get up, it was clear to me that I first needed to go to my room to rest a bit. On the way, I treated myself to a delicious ice-cream. Since I walk a lot during my travels, I have to make sure I get enough calories. That’s how I justified the current events to myself.

Ice-cream in Alberobello

And so, I returned to the rented flat and rested a bit there. I couldn’t really sleep, but that wasn’t my goal; I just wanted to lie down and wait for the spinning in my head to calm down. Of course, that happened over time, so I got up, got ready and went outside for a walk.

By now, I had already found a "shortcut" from the flat I was staying in to the main street and there were more trulli houses there as well.

Alberobello

Alberobello

I headed back to the wonderful viewpoint I had been to earlier, but the views were so beautiful that I didn’t mind enjoying them again. Besides, the weather had changed a little – there were still some clouds, but there was more sunshine coming from our star that was gradually setting towards the horizon, so the colours were a bit different.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

I then descended to the large square, which is marked as a park, although it is mostly a paved space. It is called Parco Largo Martelotta and the name actually comes from the street that runs through it, called Largo Martelotta. This street practically separates one hill with a more modern part of the town (including the viewpoint) and the area of the former village of Aia Piccola, where there are also trulli (about 590 of them), and another hill, Monti, which I now intended to explore. It is on this second hill that the main concentration of trulli (about 1,030) is found and I wanted mostly to stroll around there without any particular plans.

As it will turn out I mostly walked through the Monti neighbourhood, while in Aia Piccola, I only visited the outskirts. The main reason for this is that maps don't clearly show which area Aia Piccola covers and it takes quite a bit of searching to find it. In fact, Aia Piccola is simply an extension of the more modern part of the town.

In the next photo, you can see the hill and the direction in which Aia Piccola spreads, while Monti, at the moment I took this picture, is behind me and to the right.

Parco Largo Martelotta

The trulli start right from the square and there are a few main streets that gently rise uphill, connected by smaller cross streets between them. It should be noted that all the streets are winding. The visitor decides where exactly to go, as there is no formal sightseeing route. It all comes down to strolling between picturesque white houses with interesting stone roofs.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Some of the shops have signs inviting passersby and tourists to visit because they offer the opportunity to climb onto the roof, which provides a beautiful view. In this way, these shops hope to increase their sales.

I quickly came across one such place, so I climbed up to the roof. It was really nice, interesting and provided a different perspective.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Needless to say, I had to take a selfie as well!

Selfie in Alberobello

Then, I returned to the main street and continued uphill. Soon, I ventured into some of the side alleys.

Alberobello

Alberobello

The situation in the side streets was a bit different. There, you could still see functional trulli, but they weren’t necessarily set up for tourists and I don’t remember seeing any shops there either.

Alberobello

On the other hand, it seemed like people really lived there, rather than everything being prepared for tourists and tailored to their needs.

Alberobello

It was lovely to see some picturesque detail, and that happened often, like plants in a planter by the entrance or a flowerpot in a niche that seemed to have been made just for that purpose.

Alberobello

Alberobello

When I got home and was organising my photos, I noticed that I had taken pictures of some of the trulli a couple of times – once when I first passed by them and then again when I came back down the same street. But it didn’t bother me. In fact, it only confirmed that those little houses had really caught my eye.

Alberobello

In one case, I really liked how the roofs were connected on one of the trulli, with a stone gutter in between to direct the water when it rains.

Alberobello

On some of the trulli, the roof is clearly placed and starts from the top of the walls, but on others, that’s not the case. As can be seen in the next photograph, it looks like the roof spills over the house.

Alberobello

Alberobello

I occasionally ventured into smaller alleys that were often dead ends, and then I would return to the main street and cross over to another main street through a side lane. But I did all of this without any particular order and that was exactly how it should be. At every turn, there were similar, yet different sights, and all of them were beautiful.

Alberobello

Alberobello

I came to a slightly wider main street that went uphill, Via Monte San Michele, and it was especially beautiful how the sunlight added to the charm of the space.

Alberobello

Although the houses were still charming and picturesque, with the disappearance of direct sunlight, everything turned into mere commercial entertainment for tourists.

Alberobello

And yet, here and there, you could spot various beautiful details that might serve to attract tourists, but they certainly also please the people who live or work here.

Alberobello

I had now climbed to the end of the street, which had turned into Via Monte Pertica, and there, across from the local park, I found a trullo-church – the Church of Saint Antonio. Here, even the church was built in the trullo style.

Church of Saint Antonio

I went inside and took a little tour of the church. It was interesting to see the dome, which was made of stone slabs – using the same technique as the roofs of the surrounding houses.

Church of Saint Antonio

Church of Saint Antonio, a detail

After visiting the church, I started to head back down the street I had come from. Once again, the sun was on my side, so the colours and views were absolutely stunning.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Then, I ventured again into some other side streets, smaller and more hidden, but they were no less picturesque.

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

Alberobello

And so, I returned to the wide space between the two hills – the Parco Largo Martelotta.

Alberobello

However, as I passed a few streets leading up to the Monti hill, it felt like a call – I had to go back, even if just for a short while, to wander through these streets and among the beautifully picturesque trulli.

Alberobello

Alberobello

But, I didn’t stay too long. I wanted to return to the flat, which was near the Church of Saints Cosmas and Damian, the towers of which can be seen in the distance in the photo below.

Alberobello

A little later, I returned to the part of the town where I was staying and on the way, I stopped by a grocery store to buy what I needed.

Alberobello

Since I had a nice lunch that day, I decided to have something light and improvised for dinner. Being in Apulia, it only made sense that I wanted to have burrata again, but it would have been silly to just eat cheese. Oh, yes. It was a perfectly good and light dinner.

Improvised dinner in Alberobello

After a short afternoon rest in the flat I had rented during my brief stay in Bari, I set out for another walk, but I also realised that I was a bit hungry. Not too much, but enough to want to eat something and feel satisfied afterwards.

On this occasion, I decided to combine "the pleasant and the useful" – I went to the promenade by the sea (Lungomare Nazario Sauro), which is often mentioned as an interesting place to visit.

However, I first went to eat at a place that was recommended to me. My impression was that, like in many other cities around the world, street food in Bari has gained popularity in recent years and with that, its quality, creativity and variety have improved. One of the specialties offered here was an octopus sandwich. As soon as the food arrived, I realised I was actually quite hungry, so without any hesitation, I ate it all right away. It was excellent!

Late lunch in Bari

As for the promenade by the sea, well... its main advantage is that it’s by the sea and quite wide, so walking there is definitely pleasant.

Bari, a detail

On the other side of the street, you can see very beautiful "palaces," as well as numerous cafés and restaurants, so a walk by the sea can be both enjoyable and inspiring in many ways.

Bari, a detail

Although I only had a "sandwich," it was more than enough for me and now I was just strolling leisurely along the sea towards the old town of Bari, which is simply called Bari Vecchia.

Bari, a detail

By the time I reached one of the main squares in the old part of the city, Piazza Mercantile, and had a nice, cold and large beer, the evening was already slowly starting to fall. I didn't take a photo of the beer on purpose, because it wasn't local, but once I had settled into the café, I was too lazy to get up for such a detail. So, a little later, I took a photo of the square and then went back into the streets of the old town.

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

However, although it was still a bit early, my short afternoon rest hadn’t been enough to make up for the little sleep I had the night before, so I decided to head slowly back to the rented flat. For that, I mostly used one of the central streets that is mainly pedestrian (Via Sparano). Its primarily commercial nature doesn't diminish the beauty of the buildings and details.

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

The next day, I decided to be "lazy" in the morning. I had no reason to rush, and that would practically remain the case throughout this entire trip. I came to Apulia for two weeks, primarily considering that I would be travelling from place to place mostly by public transport, which takes more time. Two weeks might have even been too much for my version of sightseeing. On the other hand, I have no problem killing time in Italy – besides the beautiful sights, whether it's nature or human settlements, there’s always a pastry shop, a café or a restaurant nearby. And after all, where better to practice the true Italian philosophy of life than here – Dolce far niente!!! Literally translated: "It’s sweet to do nothing."

In fact, that morning, my little portable computer was causing me some trouble, so I got tangled up in that. In the end, I gave up and finally set out for a walk. I went back to the old town and aimlessly wandered through the charming streets and squares, full of picturesque details.

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

And then, I went to a place to get lunch for myself. It’s a famous spot that makes and sells an Apulian specialty to go – Focaccia Barese (Bari-style focaccia). However, first, I had to wait in a long line.

Bari, a detail

When it was my turn, I had to be quick to take a photo of what was happening. The people working there are very efficient and there's no time to waste because there are more interested customers waiting outside. They packed my focaccia nicely, which I planned to eat in the flat before heading out for a short trip.

On my way back to the flat, I had to stop at a place to take a photo of something I had noticed the day before. Near the entrance to the old town, there is a "machine" where you can buy water by bringing your own container. There are three types of water available: cold still, lightly sparkling and microfiltered sparkling water, and you can choose either 1 l or 3 l. I think it's a really nice idea.

Bari, a detail

Then, I returned to the flat and had the focaccia for lunch. It was really excellent. Enough to make me want to try making it myself when I got back home. Here’s the result and the recipe:

Focaccia Barese done in my way

FOCACCIA BARESE

• 500 g flour for pizza
• 1 medium sized potato
• 300 ml tepid water
• 20 g fresh yeast
• a pinch of sugar
• 1 tsp of salt
• 20 ml olive oil
• 350 g fresh tomato (cherry tomato is the best in this case)
• olives (without pits)
• olive oil
• oregano

First, the potato needs to be boiled in its skin. Once it is well cooked, peel it and mash it finely. Dissolve the fresh yeast in a little lukewarm water, adding sugar to activate the yeast. Combine the mashed potatoes with flour, yeast and salt, and add the rest of the water. Also, add olive oil. The dough will be very sticky, but it should be kneaded for about 10 minutes.

Let the dough rise for 1-2 hours, then knead it again for about 10 minutes. It will still be quite sticky, but a little less. Then, place it in an oiled bowl, cover it and leave it for at least 12 hours. In other words, the dough should be prepared the evening before making the focaccia and the bowl should be placed in the fridge.

The next day, place the dough in an oiled baking tray, then use oiled fingers to stretch it across the tray, also making indentations in the dough. Arrange halved tomatoes and olives on top. Sprinkle with oregano, a little salt, and drizzle with olive oil. Let it rise for half an hour, then bake in a preheated oven (250°C).

After the lovely lunch in Bari, I went on a "trip." I actually went to the town of Polignano a Mare. It’s about a half-hour train ride south from Bari.

Polignano a Mare is considered one of the many charming small towns along the Apulian coast of the Adriatic Sea. It is especially famous for its limestone cliffs that rise about 20 m high and stretch along this part of the coastline, with the town built above these cliffs. Due to the constant movement of the sea and waves, caves have been carved into the cliffs over time, adding to the picturesque nature of the place.

I first went to a lookout by the sea in order to get a better view of what was going on, but when I arrived, everything was surrounded by a temporary high wire construction fence because some kind of work was being done. In fact, at that moment, there was no one around, but it was clear that something was being built or repaired there. I found a convenient spot where I could slip my phone through the fence and just as I was about to take some pictures, a local guide appeared with a couple of tourists. He simply moved part of the fence so they could walk to the stone wall that exists above the sea. I asked if I could pass through briefly to take photos as well and he agreed. Everything went smoothly and quickly. Here are the pictures (they turned out much better than if I had taken them through the construction fence):

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

In the photo above, on the left-hand side, you can see the famous Grotta Ardito delle Caldaie cave, and here’s a closer shot of it. You can better notice the beautiful colours of the sea at this spot.

Polignano a Mare

I thanked the guide and then I started walking down the street that runs along the coast.

Polignano a Mare

Then, I wandered into the town, heading west towards the historical centre of Polignano a Mare (Centro Storico Polignano a Mare) along a street that runs straight, but essentially follows the coastline. From this street, shorter alleys regularly lead to viewpoints where you can once again enjoy the beauty of this coastline.

Polignano a Mare

But, the houses you can see here are no less interesting and charming. On the contrary.

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

In the meantime, it started to rain. Sometimes lightly and sparsely, and at other times a bit more heavily. I hadn’t brought an umbrella with me, so I had to be careful when taking photos with both my phone and camera in order to make sure they didn’t get too wet.

Polignano a Mare

The rain briefly stopped just as I reached Piazza San Benedetto. As it can be seen in the next photo, the temperature was quite pleasant (judging by the clothes of the people), after all, it was the first half of September.

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

And then, it started to rain a bit harder again. I wasn't the only one without an umbrella, but it didn’t bother me too much, except when it came to taking photos. Some people, however, decided to hide for a while and wait for the rain to pass.

Polignano a Mare

The only thing I had to be careful about was walking slowly in order to avoid slipping on the wet, polished stone slabs that cover the streets, but that didn’t stop me from noticing interesting and picturesque details.

Polignano a Mare

And then I reached a viewpoint at the far northern tip, from where I could see the cliffs on which the town is built to the east, as well as the rocky coastline to the west of the town centre.

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

After a short break for photography, I once again wandered into the picturesque streets, but only for a little while. I had to head to a viewpoint on the western side of the historical centre in Polignano a Mare.

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

On the western side of the town's historical centre, there is a fenced terrace that offers a beautiful view of a small pebble beach nestled between the rocky cliffs, known as Lama Monachile.

Polignano a Mare, view at Lama Monachile beach

Polignano a Mare, view at Lama Monachile beach

While I was standing here and taking photos, a few people were jumping into the water from the rock to the west of the beach. In the next picture, you can see a woman in the middle of her "leap."

Polignano a Mare

After this, I went to Piazza Vittorio Emanuele II, where I sat down and had a coffee. From the place where I was relaxing, I had a nice view of the Church of Saint Mary of the Assumption (Chiesa Madre Santa Maria Assunta), but there were preparations going on for a funeral, i.e., for the mass before the burial, so I decided to return later to visit the church.

For now, I headed towards the exit from the historical centre of Polignano a Mare, while near the Old Gate (Porta Vecchia), I took a few photos of some interesting details.

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

From there, I started to walk along the street leading west and from the bridge that crosses the gorge at the end of which there is a beach, I was able to see everything from a different angle. If you look closely at the next photo, you can see the terrace-viewpoint in the upper right-hand corner, from where I previously took pictures of Lama Monachile beach.

Polignano a Mare

Now, I went to a spacious square that continues from Largo Gelso and from there, I first headed to a spot where you can get a nice view of the historic centre of the town, perfect for observing and taking photos.

Polignano a Mare

Although the previous picture also shows the terrace with the great viewpoint, here it is again, a little closer. It definitely has to be a must-see spot for every visitor to this charming town.

Polignano a Mare

From here, I also took a photo of a part of the rocky coastline and decided to head down there.

Polignano a Mare

Meanwhile, the rain had completely stopped and while I was here capturing what seemed interesting to me, the clouds parted slightly and the sun’s rays broke through, creating a very dramatic scene for a moment.

Polignano a Mare

On this plateau, there is also a monument to the famous Italian singer Domenico Modugno, who was born right here in Polignano a Mare.

Monument to Domenico Modugno

Perhaps his name doesn’t sound familiar to everyone, but his most famous song, I believe, is one of those melodies that will live forever. I immediately thought of that song, of course, and also realised I knew most of its lyrics. What else could I do but record Mlog No. 10?

I really know how to entertain myself well!

After recording my singing, I made my way down to the rocky coastline and spent some more time enjoying the scenery while also taking a few more photos. I even took advantage of some good-sized rocks where I could place my camera in order to take a picture of myself. That’s always fun!

Polignano a Mare

Me in Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare, a detail

All that singing made me thirsty, so I headed back to the plateau and sat down at a café.

Polignano a Mare

After a lovely break, I headed back towards the historic centre of Polignano a Mare and in the next picture, you can see the bridge that crosses the gorge with the beach.

Polignano a Mare

By now, the day was drawing to a close and the colours were different, which also inspired me to capture the moment.

Polignano a Mare

I once again wandered into the old part of town, mainly to visit the church, but along the way, I took photos of various details. Some of them already had the evening lights turned on.

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

I made my way back to Piazza Vittorio Emanuele II and now I could finally enter the church.

Polignano a Mare

Polignano a Mare

I’ve already mentioned that it is the Church of Saint Mary of the Assumption.

Polignano a Mare

After visiting the church, I left the old part of the town once again and headed towards the train station.

Polignano a Mare

Soon, I was back in Bari and since I had rented a flat near the train station, everything went smoothly and easily. I even had some leftovers from the focaccia barese I had for lunch, so I ate that and didn’t go out that evening. Besides, I needed to rest well because the next day I was starting my journey through Apulia.

Although whenever it comes to Italy, I always think that I should go to my other homeland (I'll explain this on another occasion) at least once a year, that's not the case.

There are two main reasons for this. The first one is that I have already visited this truly wonderful country quite extensively and some of the main tourist destinations even several times. As I like to say, I saw the Sistine Chapel before the restoration, when the restoration was halfway through, and when it was completed. And each time I enjoyed it – the Sistine Chapel, Rome and all of Italy.

The second reason is that this world, in addition to being beautiful, is also vast. Although I travel quite intensively, there are so many marvellous and interesting destinations that even with the best of intentions, it's impossible to be everywhere at every moment. At least, I haven't mastered that skill yet.

But, despite all of this, I often think of Italy and always have ideas about where, when and so on. And so it happened that I bought a return plane ticket to Bari for September 2024 with intention of spending two weeks exploring Apulia, the region in the south of the country shaped like the "heel of the Italian boot," which is also often called Puglia.

Let me clarify the name of the region right away: Italians call their region Puglia, but Apulia is widely used internationally. The region was originally called Apulia during the Roman times, but the name changed in Italian over time due to the development of the language, specifically the dialect used in this part of the country. From what I've seen, both names can be used, but I assume Apulia is more accurate, so I will use this term. When I speak Italian, I say "Puglia." So everything is in its place.

My initial idea was to spend a few days in Bari as a pedestrian, then rent a car to visit the places I wanted to see. However, a few months before the trip, a friend of mine was in Apulia, and while talking about his experience, I realised it would be better to get around Apulia using public transport. First – I like public transport. Second – since I was interested in cities and places that are mostly well-connected by public transport, I realised it would be pointless to rent a car only for it to be parked somewhere. Additionally, I’ve always found it annoying to look for parking space in unfamiliar places and using public transport would solve that detail. On the other hand, I took my driver’s license with me because I also wanted the option to rent a car if I decided to visit some villages near a city.

So, that was the basic travel concept, while what I ultimately saw and visited during the trip can be seen on the next map.

To begin with, one early morning, I took a flight from Belgrade to Bari. I tried to sleep on the plane, but it was completely unsuccessful.

After landing at the international airport in Bari, I easily navigated my way and took a train to the main railway station in the centre of Bari. There, I immediately went to the left luggage office and left my large backpack, so I could move around the city more easily.

I could only enter the flat I rented for my stay in Bari at 3 in the afternoon, which meant I had a few free hours. It seemed pointless to sit at the train station, so I came up with the idea to take a short walk around the area near the station with just my small backpack.

When I stepped out onto the square in front of the station, I immediately felt a wave of happiness that I had arrived in Italy. Whether it was the air, the sun or my imagination – I had the feeling as if I could recognise this country at first sight.

Bari, square in front of the main railway station

However, I was very tired and heavy because I hadn't slept enough and I had woken up at the crack of dawn for the early flight. So, I immediately sat down at a café on a pedestrian street that leads from the main train station to the old part of Bari, and there I ordered a coffee and some pastry to serve as an addition to my breakfast.

Break in Bari

Since my plan was to spend 2 weeks in Italy and I wasn't coming from a country that belongs to the European Union, I thought it would be a good idea to buy a SIM card, since I have a mobile phone where I can insert a second card. This way, I would ensure a constant internet connection, which definitely makes travelling easier and helps in gathering information about timetables and so on. The problem was that it was Sunday and most stores were closed.

So, I decided to take a walk and inquire if there were any other places where I could buy a SIM card, not just in stores of the major providers. Along the way, I also passed by a food kiosk, but what caught my attention the most was how the word "kiosk" is written in Italian – "il chiosco."

Bari, a detail

Traditionally, Italians are not known for speaking foreign languages, but I think this is changing in the modern world, especially with the advent of the internet. On the other hand, I didn’t have much of a problem with this – although I had become somewhat rusty, I practically used only Italian, not English, throughout the trip, and everything went great. It wasn’t the level of knowledge I once had, but I was still satisfied.

As I’ve mentioned, the wide street that leads straight from the train station to the old part of the city is pedestrian, but it is crossed by relatively narrow streets where cars go in one direction or the other, so one has to be mindful of that.

Bari, a detail

After a certain period of time, about 1 km farther away, the street reaches a wide cross street where cars drive, and the old town practically starts on the other side. There, I found a beautiful row of palm trees, and a little further, I could see the Teatro Margherita, which was once a theatre, but has been a museum since 1979.

Bari, a detail

Yet, I first went to the Tourist Information Office, and they told me where in the centre I could definitely find a store that sells phones and SIM cards that was open on Sundays. This meant I had to walk around a bit more, but in the end, I got the job done and was content. Now I had internet access all the time and, as I had assumed, it did make travelling around Apulia much easier.

This also meant that I could return to the old town in Bari (Bari Vecchia) and casually stroll through its narrow and picturesque streets.

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Like all of Italy, Apulia is known for its pasta, with the most typical pasta here being orecchiette, which means "little ears," simply because the shape resembles small ears. Accordingly, in the old town of Bari, you can see and buy pasta made in this version (but in different sizes) on the street, along with other shapes of pasta. All of it looks exceptionally colourful, but certainly also very attractive.

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

The pasta and laundry hanging and drying above the street – is there anything that reminds you of Italy more?

Bari, a detail

Well, probably high-quality, artisanal ice-cream (gelato artigianale) falls into the same category – a typical, top-tier symbol of Italy. I found a well-known local gelateria and stopped by, but I had the classic problem – how to choose two or three flavours when everything on offer looks so tempting. I came up with a solution to this problem by deciding to have ice-cream every day, and although I wouldn't be in the same place, I would try to choose something different each time. Here’s how I started:

Bari, a detail

To avoid making a mess, I sat in the shade and leisurely enjoyed my ice-cream, then continued my walk through the old part of Bari.

This was all happening in the immediate vicinity of one of Bari's famous landmarks, the Swabian Castle (Castello Svevo). The fortress was built by the Norman kings around 1132, but it was reconstructed and strengthened in 1233, with massive bastions added in the 16th century. However, I must admit that on this occasion, I wasn’t interested in touring the remains of the medieval castle and preferred to stroll leisurely instead. But I did take a photo of it from the corner.

Bari, a detail

Not far from this spot, I came close to the Cathedral San Sabino.

Surroundings and the Cathedral San Sabino

The cathedral was originally built on this site in the 11th and 12th centuries as a Romanesque structure, but it was destroyed in the mid-12th century. By the end of that same century and during the 13th century, the church we see today was built. Although it is less famous than the Basilica of St. Nicholas (Basilica di San Nicola), it is certainly superior to the latter.

Cathedral San Sabino

But, in order to visit the interior of the church, an entrance fee must be paid. For me, paying an entrance fee to visit a church is more of a matter of principle than money. Only in very rare cases am I willing to break that principle and pay to enter and visit a church. I simply believe that everything related to churches, both their exterior and interior, belongs to everyone – after all, that’s why they were built. If entry to churches could be free for everyone up until just a decade ago, I don't see why it shouldn't still be the case. I can agree that visitors should be required to show respect (in every way), but that would be all.

So, in this case, I only walked around the cathedral, took some photos of details and continued on.

Cathedral San Sabino

Cathedral San Sabino

The walk took me through the endlessly picturesque streets of old Bari, while occasionally I would peek into a courtyard.

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Then, I came to a place where, alongside orecchiette, red hot peppers were being advertised and sold. The images were beautiful!

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Soon, since old Bari isn’t very large, I arrived at probably the most important building in the city, the Basilica of St. Nicholas (Basilica di San Nicola).

Basilica of St. Nicholas

The basilica was built between 1087 and 1197, and although it has been reconstructed several times, it is now considered the most striking example of Romanesque architecture in Apulia. Its façade appears quite simple, but there are still elements on it that are beautifully crafted, with the main doorway standing out in particular.

Basilica of St. Nicholas, a detail

No entry fee is charged here (at least they hadn't started charging as of September 2024), so I went in and gladly walked around the church, admiring the various, exceptionally elegant and beautifully crafted details. The transverse arches, added in the 15th century, stand out in particular and appear relatively unusual.

Basilica of St. Nicholas, the interior

Basilica of St. Nicholas, the interior

Basilica of St. Nicholas, the interior

This church is one of the most significant in the entire Christian world and serves as an equally important pilgrimage destination for both Catholics and Orthodox Christians. The reason for this is that in the crypt of the church lies the tomb containing the relics of St. Nicholas.

Basilica of St. Nicholas, the crypt

St. Nicholas (c. 270 to c. 345) was the Bishop of Myra in the historical region of Lycia, in what is nowadays Turkiye. He died and was buried there. However, in the second half of the 11th century, Byzantium, to which Myra then belonged, was under heavy pressure from the Seljuk Empire and it was likely because of this that an "issue" arose concerning the security of the relics of the great saint. In any case, according to the most frequently mentioned version of the events, sailors from Bari stole the relics and transported them to their city. Since then, they have remained there, and both pilgrims and curious visitors can descend into the crypt, where, behind a metal-barred fence, they can see the tomb of this famous saint.

Basilica of St. Nicholas, tomb with the relics of St. Nicholas

When I exited the basilica, I started walking around it to admire it from different angles. On the northern side, there is the richly decorated Lions’ Doorway, so I wanted to take a look at that as well.

Basilica of St. Nicholas, a detail

One of the problems I encountered throughout this trip was the fact that almost all the places I had reserved for accommodation officially allowed new guests to check in only after 3 pm. Granted, I managed to arrange early check-ins at a few places, at least to leave my things and pick up the key later, but in Bari, the owner of the flat I had rented was firm – no entry before 3 pm. That’s why I went for this informal sightseeing tour, as I couldn’t just sit in cafés and keep drinking coffee or other beverages. In addition, after the ice-cream, I wasn’t hungry anymore. Fortunately, I had left my large backpack at the left luggage office at the train station, so I was walking around with just my small backpack, but in my case, that didn’t make things much easier – my small backpack is comparatively heavier than the large one.

Anyway, the time passed and after visiting the Basilica of St. Nicholas, I started heading back towards the train station. On the one hand, I needed to pick up my large backpack, and on the other hand, the flat I had rented was nearby.

However, I decided to take a different route and ended up seeing a few more interesting places and landmarks. First, I walked to one of the main squares in old Bari – Piazza Mercantile, from where I briefly retreated into the picturesque narrow streets of the old town again.

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

I passed by the Tourist Information Office again and nearby was the former theatre – Teatro Margherita, which is now a museum.

Bari, a detail

A little further on is the building of the branch of the Bank of Italy (Banca d’Italia), while right next to it is the largest theatre in Italy – Teatro Petruzzelli.

Bari, a detail

Bari, a detail

Then, I wandered into the newer part of the city and I was intrigued to see the oleander trees (!) that lined the streets. I used to have an oleander on my balcony, but it could only grow to the size of a bush there.

Bari, a detail

After a while, feeling quite tired, I made my way back to the place where I had started my tour of Bari – the square in front of the main train station with the fountain. I quickly took a photo of it and then continued to the left luggage office to pick up my large backpack.

Bari, a detail

Soon, I was at the rented flat, where I first took a shower and then lay down for a nap. It was necessary for me to rest. On the one hand, I had gotten up very early, while on the other, the temperature in Bari that day was quite high, so I wasn’t too happy about having to walk around tired in the heat and strong sun.

Luckily, the flat and the bed were very comfortable, so I could finally relax.

On the last day of my stay in Norway in April 2024, I had an evening flight back to Belgrade from Oslo Airport, which meant I had to drive about 230 km. However, I had planned everything perfectly, even to arrive at the airport an hour before the scheduled time for returning the car because my idea was to do everything calmly and without stress. That’s how I planned it, but the Universe had other ideas. In any case, I didn’t rush too much.

I even took a little walk along the Måna River in Rjukan, which wasn’t a problem since the guesthouse where I stayed was nearby. As I mentioned in part 14 of my travelogue, when I arrived in Rjukan the previous day, I found out that I was the only guest at the guesthouse, which wasn’t exactly small. Half of the building, including the reception area, was under renovation, that was clear, but even in the half where I was staying, there was no one else – neither a guest nor any staff members. Not only did the whole town of Rjukan resemble a ghost town, but this guesthouse also reflected the spirit of the place.

The night before, when I returned from dinner and went to my room, I realised I didn’t have internet because I didn’t know the password. It was quite important for me to resolve this, so I locked my room (just in case) and then started walking through the empty corridors of the guesthouse. Left and right, down, along a long hallway, to a door that was closed but not locked, then using some stairs to another door... Finally, I reached the room where the reception was located, where, of course, there was absolutely no one. However, from experience, I know that there are often signs at receptions with the username and password for the internet, and that was the case here too, so soon I had a connection to the outside world.

The internet connection was good and the room where I stayed was both good and comfortable, but... I usually don’t comment on prices – either I can afford something or I can’t, and that’s the end of it. However, ... I did pay for the room here, in other words, I could afford it, but I still consider this the most overpriced place I have ever stayed at. Norway is known for being an expensive country, but I can’t say that the price of the room at this guesthouse in Rjukan was high – it was outrageously inappropriate.

But let me return to the story about the short walk along the Måna River. It was a nice, sunny and slightly chilly morning, but that freshness and light felt quite pleasant.

The Måna in Rjukan

The Måna in Rjukan

The Måna in Rjukan

I soon left Rjukan, but I quickly stopped to take a few photos of the narrow valley where Rjukan is located, which I was just leaving, as well as the surrounding mountains, now bathed in the morning sun.

Mountain above Rjukan

By the way, Rjukan isn’t just a destination for idle people like me who are “chasing” UNESCO World Heritage sites; it also offers many hiking and trekking trails, beautiful waterfalls and so on. Of course, I couldn’t do any of that as I didn’t have the time, but I’m not complaining.

Soon, I reached the vicinity where the Måna River flows into Lake Tinn.

The Måna right before its confluence

The Måna right before its confluence

I drove over the bridge visible in the previous photo, but soon I stopped again at a large parking area. From there, I had a great view of part of Lake Tinn, which, with an area of over 51 sq. km, is one of the largest lakes in Norway. Its maximum length is 35 km and on this day I was driving along a road that closely followed the shoreline of the lake. The views were occasionally incredibly beautiful, but I could stop very rarely.

Lake Tinn

Lake Tinn

Not knowing what the road and views would be like later on, I stopped here because there was plenty of space. I was also pleased to see very long and not too soft grass, which was so dense that it felt like walking on some kind of cushion.

Grass beside Lake Tinn

Not far off, I also passed by the Mæl Station, which was an important part of the Rjukan-Notodden industrial complex.

Mæl Station

As for the road, it occasionally ascended above the level of the lake, but there were relatively few places where I could stop. Nonetheless, every moment was worth it.

View at Lake Tinn

One spot was particularly beautiful. There was no parking there, just a turn-off from the main road that was essentially a private drive, but I stopped very briefly, took the photos I wanted and then continued along the main road.

View at Lake Tinn

View at Lake Tinn

View at Lake Tinn

View at Lake Tinn

A bit farther on, the road veered away from the lake and once again led through areas where a lot of trees were being cut down for lumber production.

South Norway, a detail

South Norway, a detail

As I’ve mentioned earlier, Norway has only about 2% of arable land, whereas, for comparison, Serbia has around 30%. Among other things, this is why Norway had to, and still has to, find other sources of income.

By the mid-1970s, oil exploration began, which initially didn’t yield good results. However, large oil and gas fields were later discovered in Norway’s territorial waters in the North Sea and today, about 20% of the revenue of this wealthy Scandinavian country comes from the production of these energy resources.

In the meantime, I was driving past the rare agricultural fields that were ready for the new production season.

South Norway, a detail

At some point, I arrived at the Heddal Stave Church (Heddal stavkyrke). This wooden church also opens seasonally starting in early May, but it was conveniently on my route, so it made perfect sense to stop by.

Heddal Stave Church

Heddal Stave Church

This church is also surrounded by a cemetery, so I first took a quick look around the churchyard and then I went to the main gate that leads to the church.

Heddal Stave Church, the churchyard

Heddal Stave Church, the churchyard

Heddal Stave Church

Heddal Stave Church was most likely built in the early 13th century and, of course, it is entirely made of wood, though it is set on a stone foundation. Out of the 28 surviving medieval wooden churches in Norway, this one in Heddal is considered one of the largest and is certainly the only one with three towers.

The church is still in use today, but only during the summer when it is open to visitors. Additionally, from what I’ve read, it is quite popular for weddings.

As I walked from the parking area to the church, I saw a couple of elderly women entering the churchyard, so I assumed that at least the gate was not locked.

However, as I approached the church, I heard some voices and soon saw some young people exiting the ambulatory. Once they left, I entered and took some photos of the main door with the intention of walking around the nave of the church.

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

The western portal is nowadays primarily used to enter the church, but this was not always the case. In the Middle Ages, women entered from the northern side, men entered from the southern side, while priests also entered from the south, but directly into the choir area.

The western portal was used for children being brought into the church for baptism. It was believed that the devil had power over those who were not baptised, so this door needed to have decorations providing the utmost protection. As a result, it features a multitude of serpents and dragons – “with evil shall evil be expelled.”

On the left pillar is a somewhat grotesque, bent-over lion symbolising Christ's victory over Judas (depicted here as a lion), while on the right side are two bears engaged in their struggle, holding each other by the snouts. This representation is meant to bind and prevent devilry from entering the church.

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

For some unclear reason, it occurred to me to try the door and it... opened. I was completely confused but also absolutely thrilled. Inside, there were 3-4 people, so I went in. A lady approached me and asked which language I spoke, so when we established that it was English, she informed me that the church was open as a matter of exception, for a private viewing, but she could let me stay for a short while.

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

After I had looked around and taken photos of the inside of the church, I asked the lady if I could walk around the ambulatory and she replied: "Yes, but quickly."

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Indeed, as quickly as I could, I completed the walk around the ambulatory and then thanked the lady, who remained inside and locked the first door leading from the outside to the ambulatory.

Then I spent a little more time walking around the church, photographing various details.

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church

In front of the Heddal Stave Church

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

Heddal Stave Church, a detail

I also saw a wooden tower here, but it was outside the churchyard. I believe it is part of an open-air museum showcasing traditional buildings, but the museum was closed and it operates only during the three summer months. I was only able to see and photograph one more sculpture.

Heddal Stave Church complex

Heddal Stave Church complex, a detail

Heddal Stave Church complex, a detail

I lingered a little longer, admiring the church, and then, immensely satisfied, continued on my journey.

Heddal Stave Church

Heddal Stave Church

I soon arrived in the town of Notodden, which, along with Rjukan, is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site for its industrial cultural heritage. It is situated on the shores of Lake Heddal (Heddalsvatnet).

Notodden

At one point, I managed to capture an interesting traffic sign.

Sign by the road

I also stopped at a parking area next to a picturesque little lake from which a stream flowed and I wanted to take photos of this place.

Bodies of water in southern Norway

Bodies of water in southern Norway

Bodies of water in southern Norway

My intention was not to drive aimlessly and stop at every visually appealing spot.

On the contrary, I had a very clear plan: to visit another church that, while not as old or picturesque as the wooden ones I had seen during my stay in Norway, is the largest church in the country. This is the Kongsberg Church. From what I’ve read, its interior is exceptionally beautiful, but... the church is open to visitors only twice a week and only for one hour each time! It would have been nearly impossible to plan my trip around that schedule.

However, that didn’t stop me from wanting to see the church, so I went ahead with my plan. I intended to get out of the car and take a short walk around the church, but when I parked, I first wanted to set up the navigation on both my phone and the car's device (for different reasons, just one device alone wouldn't suffice). I was in total shock when both devices suggested that in order to reach the airport, my final destination, I should take a completely roundabout northern route, which would take about 3 hours! I didn’t have that much time, while the logical route was the "southern route" via Oslo.

I concluded that the navigation devices were clueless; after all, they even suggested taking a roundabout route to Oslo instead of the direct highway, while they also failed to recognise the name of a town on the way to Oslo (yes, modern technology isn’t always the best solution).

Because of all this, I only took photos of the church from the parking lot and then continued on my way.

Kongsberg Church

I barely managed to set up the navigation properly since I needed to get from Kongsberg Church to the highway.

Everything started out great and I was able to head towards Oslo and then to the airport quickly. The estimated arrival time was just a few minutes past the planned time, but still well before my flight's departure.

Then... a catastrophic traffic jam hit. All the cars in both lanes were crawling. I kept checking the time and the remaining distance, but the cars continued to crawl, sometimes coming to a complete stop. It was fortunate that I was in the left lane, as it was moving a bit faster. I had no idea how long the queue was or how long it would last, while the time was ticking away. Then, suddenly, everything seemed to start moving again as if nothing had happened.

I didn't dwell on the reasons and managed to reach Oslo. There, I was able to fine-tune the navigation on both devices, so everything was under control.

I also stopped at a gas station to refuel, as required before returning the car, and then continued towards the airport. I was less than 30 km away.

And then... another traffic jam, worse than the previous one. There was more stopping and when it moved, it only covered a few metres at a time. At one point, an ambulance passed in the emergency lane. It became clear that something serious had happened. It always unsettles me, regardless of who is involved and where it occurs.

But I couldn’t focus too much on the fates of others because I was dealing with my own issues. Time was passing, the deadline for returning the car had arrived and then passed (which worried me the least since I had rented the car for five days, but needed it for only four days and five hours). The cars were still mostly stopped or moving slower than a snail. I began to think about where I might stay overnight in Oslo if I missed my flight. I considered sending a message to my “hosts” in Oslo, where I had rented a room before. Maybe they would have that room available for one more night.

Meanwhile, I kept reminding myself that there was no point in stressing out because things would happen as they would, while my anxiety wouldn't change anything. After all, it would just be another experience in life.

The traffic continued to crawl or stop for a minute or two. Then, suddenly, everything started moving again. Initially, there was congestion, but the traffic moved much faster (though still below the speed limit) and soon it cleared up considerably. I was able to drive safely and quickly to the airport, where I parked the car, took some photos of it (just in case) and then returned the keys.

I arrived on time, checked in smoothly, and a few hours later, I was home, relaxed and at ease.

In conclusion, I can say that the trip to Norway was extremely fascinating for several reasons.

On one hand, it was a new destination that I knew was very beautiful, but also quite expensive. Both descriptions turned out to be accurate.

In Oslo, I felt as though I had lived there before; everything seemed easy to navigate and orient myself, and everything went smoothly and effortlessly.

Travelling by car through southern Norway was spectacular. I wouldn’t have been able to see and do so much in such a short time any other way. I had incredible luck with the weather – it was ideal. Although one day was quite cloudy and there was some sporadic rain, it was nothing compared to what it could have been. So, I repeat, I was exceptionally fortunate in that regard.

The impressions and the beauty of the landscapes, which I tried to capture with my camera and phone, filled my soul to such an extent that I felt as if I had spent a month exploring this magically beautiful country.

In Uvdal, there are two wooden churches, but they are not equally significant. I came here primarily to see the Uvdal Stave Church (Uvdal stavkirke) that is located on a hillside and requires taking a local road off the main route between Nore and Uvdal.

The wooden stave church in Uvdal is considered an important cultural monument due to its age and it is one of 28 similar wooden churches with that status. These churches were built using staves, large wooden posts that serve as supporting columns, hence the name for this type of church.

The other wooden church in Uvdal is located right next to the main road, in the centre of the village, but it is considered a “modern” church. I visited it later.

For now, I headed towards the Uvdal Stave Church, which I knew was not seasonally open, but that was certainly not a reason not to take the local road leading uphill. It turned out that I did the right thing. The church was still closed, but the view of it, the open-air museum with traditional village buildings made of wooden logs and planks, and the valley was exceptional.

Uvdal Stave Church complex

While walking towards the church, I first noted the traditional wooden houses that can be seen here. Everything was exceptionally picturesque.

Uvdal Stave Church complex

Uvdal Stave Church complex

Uvdal Stave Church complex

As for the church, I was momentarily worried about whether the gate was open, but there was no need for concern – nothing was locked (except the door leading into the church), so I was able to walk around easily.

Uvdal Stave Church

Uvdal Stave Church, a detail

The church was originally built after 1168, but was expanded several times to accommodate more people. This church, like the one in Nore, has a Greek cross plan, and due to the uniqueness of this style in Scandinavia, it has a special name – the Nummedals-type, named after the Numedal valley where these churches are located.

Uvdal Stave Church

Since it was closed, I could only walk around it and examine a few details.

Uvdal Stave Church, a detail

Uvdal Stave Church, a detail

The entire interior of the church is exceptionally richly decorated, especially with murals. I could see this for myself by peeking through a few windows that were accessible to me.

Uvdal Stave Church, a detail

Uvdal Stave Church, a detail

When I finished the circle around the church, I took more photos of it, as well as of the beautiful view of the Numedal valley stretching east to west.

Uvdal Stave Church

Numedal valley

Then I retraced my steps back to the car, closing the gate behind me.

Uvdal Stave Church

However, I was exceptionally filled with a sense of satisfaction here and this turned into inspiration and a desire to entertain myself further. Thus, we arrive at Mlog No. 9. This time, it’s Solveig's Song by the Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg (1843-1907). I had already explained the details about this song (see: https://svudapodji.com/en/norway-11/) while writing about sailing the fjords near Bergen, but the song came to my mind again here, so I sang it with all the la-la-la. There are many better performances of this beautiful song, but that should never stop anyone from having a good fun.

I took another photo of the Uvdal Stave Church complex and then I was able to continue on.

Uvdal Stave Church complex

Then I descended the local road that led me to the main road and the “modern” Uvdal church I have already mentioned. It is also made of wood, but to distinguish it from the smaller, significantly older one on the hillside, it does not have the term "stave" in its name. It was consecrated in 1893 and was thoroughly restored in the mid-20th century.

Uvdal Church

Here, too, I simply walked around the church, examining some details, and then returned to the car to continue my journey.

Uvdal Church, a detail

Uvdal Church, a detail

Uvdal Church

Uvdal Church, a detail

Now I was ready to head to the final destination for the day, which was the town of Rjukan, located about 80 km from Uvdal. I quickly turned off the main road leading to the town of Geilo and soon found myself on a winding road. Just 20 minutes later, I was in the snowy realm of the Imingfjell mountain area. Fortunately, I soon came across a pull-out along the road where I could park and peacefully admire the beauty of the snowy expanse on a perfectly sunny day.

Imingfjell mountain area

Imingfjell mountain area

I even climbed up onto a stone wall to get a better view of the surroundings.

Imingfjell mountain area

Imingfjell mountain area

But, I didn’t stay long because I needed to move on. The whole time I was thinking about how lucky I was that the weather was sunny and dry. If it had been cloudy, there might have been fog at this altitude, or it could have rained or snowed, which would have significantly made my drive more difficult and slower. As it was, the drive was a real pleasure!

Imingfjell mountain area

Imingfjell mountain area

As can be seen in the previous photo, here as well, just like on the Hallingskarv plateau, where I passed a few hours earlier, there are houses, but they were almost all surrounded by deep snow.

Imingfjell mountain area

Some are, however, built right beside the road, so access to them is easier.

Imingfjell mountain area

Here, too, in several places, I saw parked cars where no one was around, so I again assumed that the owners had gone out for Nordic skiing, which is very popular throughout Scandinavia. It was indeed a shame to miss out on such a beautiful day.

Imingfjell mountain area

I didn’t go skiing, but I truly enjoyed the drive, while soon enough the road began to descend. This was evident from the change in vegetation, too.

Imingfjell mountain area

Imingfjell mountain area

There were also more frequent signs of human habitation and at one point I noticed a traditionally built wooden cabin, as well as something that looked like a small sawmill.

Descending from the Imingfjell mountain area

Traditionally built wooden cabin

Descending from the Imingfjell mountain area

The sawmill didn’t surprise me too much, as I was driving through forests, but I must admit I was a bit shocked when I saw the hillsides with fallen trees.

Central parts of southern Norway

Central parts of southern Norway

Central parts of southern Norway

Central parts of southern Norway

In some places, I passed by houses as well as by what were clearly commercial buildings, likely for processing timber. I still hardly saw anyone, but this time around, it seemed somewhat normal since it was Sunday afternoon.

Central parts of southern Norway

Now I could only see snow on the mountain peaks, but I still greatly enjoyed the drive. I usually don’t have any strong feelings about driving; I see it practically – if I need to go somewhere by car, I just drive and that’s it. However, here I really enjoyed driving. Perhaps it was also because I hardly encountered any other cars on the road, so I could be completely relaxed and enjoy the spectacularly beautiful day.

Central parts of southern Norway

Central parts of southern Norway

Then the road took me to Lake Tinn (Tinnsjå), which, with an area of over 51 sq. km, is one of the largest lakes in Norway. It is also one of the deepest lakes in Europe, with a maximum depth of 460 meters.

Lake Tinn

Lake Tinn

Lake Tinn

Lake Tinn

In April, the sun sets slowly in Northern Europe, so I didn’t have to worry about whether I would reach my final destination before dark. After all, I was only about 30 km from the town of Rjukan, where I had booked a room.

On the road to Rjukan

Along the way, I passed by another of the many waterfalls that exist in Norway.

On the road to Rjukan

Here is the map that shows where I drove on this day:

The main reason I came here is that Rjukan, along with the town of Notodden, which is about 75 km away, is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site for its industrial heritage. The industry in these areas developed in the early 20th century, when the demand for agricultural products began to rise in the Western world, creating a need for artificial fertilisers. It was here that the Norsk Hydro Company started producing artificial fertiliser from nitrogen found in the air.

To support this, hydroelectric plants, power lines, factories and transportation systems – including railways and ferries to ports where the fertiliser was loaded – were built in the region, along with towns. Buildings were constructed for the worker housing and all the necessary institutions in order to ensure the smooth functioning of the area. All of this illustrates how the new global industry developed in the early 20th century.

Even at the entrance to the town, you can see details that confirm all of this.

Rjukan

Rjukan

Since Rjukan was essentially built "from scratch" in the early decades of the 20th century, many of its accompanying institutions are relatively recent as well. For example, the Rjukan Church that was consecrated in 1915.

Rjukan Church

I drove to the guesthouse where I had booked a room two months earlier. As I approached the parking area, I saw that part of the guesthouse, including the main entrance, was under renovation, so I went to some side door. There was a note saying: "We closed at 6 PM. Here’s a phone number, please call us." The number listed was unclear to me – whether it was a mobile or landline, or if it required a local prefix, and what the prefix for Norway was. I didn’t have internet, but I did have roaming in case of an emergency.

Still, I first I went to a small kebab restaurant nearby, explained my situation, while the owner helped me by telling me that it was a mobile phone number and what the dialling code for Norway was. I sent a message and then waited for a few minutes. A man appeared, gave me the key to the side door and to my room, and then left. I was completely alone in the guesthouse.

After settling into the guesthouse, I even had time to take a walk around the town. Although most of Rjukan was in shadow and the sun was behind the horizon defined by mountain peaks, it hadn’t officially set yet, so it was still technically "daytime."

Rjukan

Rjukan

Rjukan

Rjukan

The town seemed incredibly empty, but that might not be surprising – it was cold and it was Sunday evening. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in a ghost town.

Rjukan

Rjukan

I went to the main square in town, where you can find the municipal building and the city library (at least that’s what was written on the front facade).

Rjukan

Rjukan

However, in this part of the town, the most prominent feature was the hydroelectric power plant on the opposite bank of the local river, the Måna.

Rjukan

I photographed it along with the monument to Sam Eyde (1866-1940), one of the founders of the Norsk Hydro Company.

Rjukan

Speaking of monuments, near the main square there is also a monument to Gunnar Sønsteby (1918-2012), who was a member of the Norwegian resistance movement during WWII and who is the Norwegian with the highest honours in the country.

Rjukan

I also photographed some buildings that I believe were constructed for workers around a hundred years ago, as they have uniformed appearance.

Rjukan

Now, I was finally able to go eat something at one of the few places open, which was a local restaurant. I didn’t have great choice, but in the end, I was full and content.

Dinner in Rjukan

Drink in Rjukan

By the way, after I had already decided to visit Rjukan, I realised there was another interesting reason to come to this sleepy town. It’s known for a unique feature: Rjukan is located at the bottom of a narrow river valley and is surrounded by high mountains. The valley is so narrow and the surrounding mountains so high that, during the winter months (from September to March), the town doesn’t receive any direct sunlight. Of course, on clear days, the sunlit mountain peaks are visible, but the town remains in shadow.

To address this, a decision was made to place large mirrors on a suitable spot on the mountain top to reflect sunlight onto the town. This was done in 2013, but it’s not a fixture that illuminates the entire town; rather, it only reflects light onto the main square. Ultimately, it’s an artistic project.

I arrived in the second half of April, which was well into spring, so the mirrors didn’t need to be in operation while the next morning, direct sunlight streamed through the window of the room where I was staying. It was my last day in Norway on this trip.

Gudvangen is a small village in western Norway, but it is a significant tourist attraction since it is located at the end of the Nærøyfjord.

I have already mentioned that the Nærøyfjord is a narrow, 18 km long arm of the country's largest fjord, the Sognefjord, which I travelled along the previous day. The Nærøyfjord is only 500 meters wide in some places.

Together with another fjord from south-western Norway, the Geirangerfjord, the Nærøyfjord is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. What makes them particularly beautiful is that they are surrounded by high, steep cliffs that rise to about 1,400 meters above sea level, while in some places, they go down for about 500 m below sea level. This depth is also part of what makes these fjords special.

Here, I drove to the parking lot and it was immediately clear that the visitor is in a particularly beautiful location, but this becomes even more apparent when crossing the bridge over the Nærøydalselvi River that flows into the fjord here.

Pedestrian bridge over the Nærøydalselvi river

Since the day was sunny and the air was clear, everything sparkled and was magnificently beautiful.

The Nærøydalselvi

The fact that it was sunny doesn’t mean it was warm. However, I was dressed appropriately, as evidenced by the selfie I had to take at such a beautiful spot.

Selfie over the Nærøydalselvi

And as for the Nærøyfjord, or rather, the part of it visible from here... photographs will illustrate its beauty much better than I could ever describe it.

Nærøyfjord

Nærøyfjord

Nærøyfjord

Nærøyfjord

Nærøyfjord

Since there was plenty of space here where I could set up my camera, I took some photos of me or, as I like to say, I made a few "professional selfies." Taking selfies with a mobile phone held in hand is for amateurs. I’m just kidding, of course, especially since I also take them from time to time, as seen in one of the previous photos.

Nærøyfjord

While I was setting up and taking photos, a sightseeing boat arrived. It’s worth mentioning that the fjord here is deep enough for both ferries and large cruise ships to navigate up to this point.

Nærøyfjord

Meanwhile, a group of people with their guide had gently entered the fjord waters in boats and started paddling. I believe it must be a truly enjoyable experience, but I certainly didn’t have time for that.

Nærøyfjord

Nærøyfjord

Instead, I took another "professional selfie," and then I leisurely headed back to the car, taking a few more photos of this magnificent fjord along the way.

Nærøyfjord

Nærøyfjord

Just one kilometre further, the road I was on entered the Gudvanga Tunnel. I was still under the strong impression of the beauty of the Nærøyfjord, so that I didn’t even notice the sign indicating the tunnel’s length when I entered. The Gudvanga Tunnel, which is 11.4 km long, is the third-longest tunnel in Norway as of 2024.

Of course, as I drove through the tunnel, it was clear to me how long it was. I had previously mentioned the Høyanger Tunnel, which I had passed a few days earlier and which was once the longest in Norway (7,543 m), but by the time of writing these stories, it had dropped to the 13th place. Interestingly, the longest tunnel in Norway at least in the first half of 2024 was the Lærdal Tunnel, which is 24.5 km long and also located in this part of the country that I had been travelling through. In fact, I had passed just a few hundred meters from its entrance. However fascinating tunnels may be to me, I had my own plan and needed to stick to it rather than just driving around Norwegian tunnels out of curiosity.

However, when I emerged from the Gudvanga Tunnel, I noticed a sign indicating that a left turn would lead to a stave church. I couldn’t miss that, so I turned off the main road and headed towards the village of Undredal. I was fascinated by how empty the nearly 7 km long road was. Neither when I was descending nor when I was returning to the main road a bit later did I encounter anyone. I wondered where all the Norwegians were and how they spent their days.

Road to the village of Undredal

In the village of Undredal, there is the smallest functioning wooden church in Northern Europe. It is the Undredal Stave Church, which measures 12x4 meters. The church was built around the year 1147.

Undredal Stave Church

At the time of my visit, the church was closed, so I just continued a little further down the road to turn around. I also took the opportunity to photograph the stunning fjord where this village with just over 100 residents is located. This is the Aurlandsfjord, which is also a branch of the large Sognefjord. The Nærøyfjord actually branches off from the Aurlandsfjord about 5 km north of Undredal. Moreover, parts of this fjord are also included in the UNESCO World Heritage natural site.

Undredal and Aurlandsfjord

On the way back, I passed by the Undredal Stave Church again and then returned along the same route to the main road. The elevation difference is about 350 meters.

Undredal Stave Church

From Undredal to the main road

From Undredal to the main road

From Undredal to the main road

The main road took me along the Aurlandsfjord and just about 1 km after it diverged from the fjord, the road splits into two directions – one going through the longest tunnel in Norway, while I headed in the other direction.

Aurlandsfjord

However, very soon I realised that I was driving through exceptionally beautiful landscapes, but I had to be very careful because the road was narrow and winding. I had to be patient until I reached a pull-off where I could safely stop.

Pull-off by the road

And what a place it was! This was Vassbygdevatnet Lake. The lake is linked with a hydroelectric power plant, but that didn’t detract from the beauty of the spot at all. I took quite a few photos again and here is a select few.

Vassbygdevatnet Lake

Vassbygdevatnet Lake

Vassbygdevatnet Lake

The reflections in the perfectly still waters of the lake were magnificent.

Vassbygdevatnet Lake

Vassbygdevatnet Lake

Vassbygdevatnet Lake

If I thought the road was winding up to this point, I can’t even begin to describe the road winding from Vassbygdevatnet Lake on. Not only does it wind, but it also dramatically ascends – from about 20 meters above sea level to a plateau at around 1,000 meters above sea level. To start with, one has to pass through a series of tunnels that wind uphill through the mountain, some of which are stacked one above the other. There was no way I would dare to take any photos here, plus I first had to wait my turn due to a traffic light positioned along the road.

Beginning of the ascent along the road from Vassbygdevatnet Lake

Soon enough, though, I came across a pull-off area, so I stopped and got out of the car. The view of the lake and its surroundings was breathtaking.

Vassbygdevatnet Lake

Vassbygdevatnet Lake

As I ascended, snow began to appear, but it didn't bother me at all since the road was perfectly cleared.

Highlands of western Norway

Highlands of western Norway

Highlands of western Norway

Highlands of western Norway

Throughout this entire day, I couldn’t stop feeling immense gratitude to the circumstances or higher powers – however one sees it – that the weather was what it was. This was particularly important as I passed by lakes or fjords or stopped to photograph their still waters reflecting grassy slopes with charming sunlit houses and seemingly endless blue skies. However, it was perhaps even more significant when I drove across high mountains and plateaus (on a couple of occasions) completely covered in snow.

One level of the "problem" would be that my photos would be filled with greyness and would be less spectacular, although clouds can sometimes add drama. A much greater and real issue would have arisen if it had been foggy or rainy, or if there had been snow at high altitudes, making the roads slippery. I would have had to drive much more slowly and who knows when I would have reached my planned destination for the day.

But on a sunny and dry day like this, I could relax and enjoy.

Highlands of western Norway

Highlands of western Norway

Here at this altitude, the road passed through several tunnels. The one that particularly caught my interest was the Geiterygg Tunnel.

The tunnel is 3,290 meters long and situated at an average height of about 1,100 meters above sea level. What I found fascinating about it is that it features so-called "cold gates." These are automatic gates placed at one or both ends of a tunnel in order to protect it from cold and snowdrifts during winter, which could lead to ice formation on the tunnel walls and potentially cause rock falls. Except during summer, when temperatures are higher, the gates automatically open when a vehicle approaches, while they remain closed otherwise. Here’s what it looks like. I was quite surprised at first, as I wasn’t aware of such things, but in the end, it was quite fascinating and I managed to partially capture the whole experience in video format.

I was driving here over the Hallingskarv Plateau, which is part of the Hallingskarvet National Park.

Hallingskarv plateau

Hallingskarv plateau

In many places, I saw individual houses that looked quite snow-covered and even deserted. On the other hand, I noticed parked cars along the road, not necessarily near these houses. My conclusion was that some Norwegians had come here for Nordic skiing. It would indeed be a pity to miss out on such a beautiful day.

Hallingskarv plateau, a detail

Hallingskarv plateau, a detail

Hallingskarv plateau, a detail

Hallingskarv plateau, a detail

Hallingskarv plateau

Hallingskarv plateau

At some point, I did begin descending from the heights, so there was less snow, but there were more houses and human settlements.

Landscapes after the Hallingskarv plateau

I even photographed a wooden church, but since I didn’t have any information about it, I didn’t stop to explore.

Landscapes after the Hallingskarv plateau

The road also passed by a lake that wasn't covered in ice.

Landscapes after the Hallingskarv plateau

Landscapes after the Hallingskarv plateau

At one point, I also passed by the well-known winter sports centre of Geilo, but I hadn’t planned to make a stop there. I had a very ambitious plan for the day, so I was aware that it wasn't wise to stray from my route, especially not to visit a place I knew nothing about. The fact that it’s significant for winter sports didn’t matter to me – I was just passing through.

Here is a map showing where I travelled on this day:

After Geilo, the road started climbing again, reaching an altitude of around 1,100 m above sea level, but this stretch wasn’t very long – only about 30-40 km.

Landscapes after Geilo

Landscapes after Geilo

And as I started descending from the plateau, the snow began to disappear again. About 20 km farther, I reached the town of Uvdal. Here, I arrived at the Numedal Valley, which was significant to me because I wanted to visit two historic wooden churches.

I found it interesting that in the town of Uvdal, the road took me past a large wooden church that wasn’t in my itinerary, but I knew I would pass by it on the way back, so I decided to stop there later.

The plan was to visit a church located a little farther from Uvdal first, with the idea of returning later to see the other old wooden church in town and then continue a bit further along the same route before heading to my final destination for the day.

So, first, I went to the Nore Stave Church, which is situated on the shore of a lake. In fact, a river runs through the valley, widening at several points to form lakes. The wooden church in Nore is built next to, formally speaking, two connected lakes (narrow and long). To reach the church, you need to cross a bridge over the riverbed that connects these two lakes.

Nore Stave Church

Nore Stave Church

The day before, I had read online that the church was already open for the season every day until 6 PM. I arrived well within time, but there was no one around. The gate was unlocked (there was a metal lever to close it) and I even tried the door. No, it wasn’t open.

Nore Stave Church, a detail

Well, I figured it wasn’t a big deal, so I walked around the church and peered through the windows, even managing to take some photos of the interior.

Nore Stave Church

Research has shown that the Nore Stave Church was built after 1167. The church features a Greek cross plan with intersecting nave arms, which, as I’ve read, was a unique design solution in Western Europe during the Middle Ages.

It is also adorned with wooden carvings and other details on the gable of the side nave, while the shingle roof is clearly visible.

Nore Stave Church, a detail

Nore Stave Church

The interior is also beautifully decorated, primarily with murals, which I could see by peering through a window.

Nore Stave Church, a detail

Nore Stave Church, a detail

The church has been remodelled several times, but most of the parts are original.

I’m not sure about the current situation, but I found it interesting to read that the owner of the church at the end of the 19th century was an art history professor who then donated the church to the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Norwegian Monuments.

Since the church wasn’t open, I just walked around it, took some more photos and then drove back to the town of Uvdal.

Nore Stave Church

Along the way, I had to make a short stop to photograph the beautiful Norefjorden Lake. I found it interesting that it was still completely covered in ice, while the surface of Frygnefjorden Lake, which it connects to and where the church is located, was completely blue.

Norefjorden Lake

Norefjorden Lake

Less than 20 km farther, I reached my next destination, which was the Uvdal Stave Church.

Walking around Bergen, I finally reached Bryggen, more precisely the part that stretches along the northern side of Vågen Bay.

Bryggen

Bryggen

I had previously mentioned Bryggen a little, but now I'll do so in a more consolidated manner. It is an old wharf in Bergen. The city was a very important part of the Hanseatic League, a trading empire with roots in Germany. Considering that the houses here were traditionally made of wood, it's no surprise that many buildings have been lost to fires over time, but many of them, built in accordance with local traditions and vernacular building methods, have survived to this day. Today, 62 buildings from the old days can be seen in Bryggen and this historic dockside quarter is one of the cultural properties listed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. Of the four Hanseatic trading posts abroad, the one in Bergen is the only one that has survived.

Bryggen is essentially a small, purpose-built settlement that served as a true colony for German traders. The buildings are multi-storied, while narrow passageways resembling streets run between them. Everything is made of wood, except for a few warehouses in the back that are made of stone. These warehouses stored goods and also had cooking facilities to minimise the risk of fire.

What can be seen today reflects the appearance Bryggen was given after the fire of 1702.

Bryggen, a detail

Today, some of these buildings house modern shops, galleries or cafés.

Bryggen, a detail

I wandered through the district without any particular order or purpose, simply capturing details that caught my eye.

Bryggen, a detail

Bryggen, a detail

Bryggen, a detail

Bryggen, a detail

Bryggen, a detail

Bryggen, a detail

Bryggen, a detail

Then I got back to the quay and enjoyed the beauty created by the fronts of the buildings belonging to Bryggen, which were illuminated by the sun, highlighting the colours of the façades even more. Although the following photos show essentially the same thing, I like each one, so here they are...

Bryggen

Bryggen

Bryggen

Bryggen

In the previous photo, a little farther away, to the left, you can also see the Rosenkrantz Tower (Rosenkrantztårnet) from the second half of the 16th century. The tower is considered the most important Renaissance monument in Norway and was built to encompass an old keep from the late 13th century and the outwork from the early 16th century. According to what I’ve read, the tower offers a beautiful view of Bergen and Bryggen, but I didn’t go there.

As for me, I took a stroll along the quay and then sat in a café to enjoy not only a coffee, but also the sunny day. I wasn’t the only one with this idea.

Bergen, a detail

I found a cosy spot and ordered the coffee, which I leisurely sipped while enjoying the moment. But then I noticed that most people around me were drinking beer. I thought, "Why not?" So I ordered a beer as well and they asked if I wanted a small or a large. Hmm! What a strange question – of course I wanted a large one. And yet, in the end, I was quite surprised when I realised that a large beer at this place meant 0.75 l of this delightful liquid. What else could I do but start drinking it?

During a break, liquids can come up in different forms

I managed to do that, of course, but in the meantime, I wanted to capture the moment as well. So, I took a selfie showing that the hand holding the glass was in a glove – not because of the beer's temperature, but because of the outside air temperature. Yes, that day in Bergen, the sun was shining brightly, but it was cold.

What is colder in Bergen: the beer or the air?

After the quite pleasant and unusually long break for me, I finally got moving, but I didn’t go far – just to the starting station of the Fløibanen funicular.

Bergen, a detail

Lower Fløibanen station

I may have skipped the beautiful view of the city from the tower, but I decided to make up for it by taking the funicular to the upper station on Mount Fløyen, which is 320 m above sea level.

The funicular opened in 1918 and it essentially operates with two cars that pass each other in the middle of the 844-metre-long track. Over time, these cars have been replaced and modernised, but the system remains the same.

Lower Fløibanen station

When I arrived at the upper station of the funicular, I immediately looked for a spot where I could both enjoy the view of Bergen and take some photos. It wasn’t difficult at all.

View at Bergen

View at Bergen

I also took photos of Vågen Bay and some islands further west towards the sea.

View at Bergen

View at the surroundings of Bergen

Then I took a stroll and enjoyed the truly wonderful day. On Fløyen hill, there are plenty of hiking trails, as well as a playground for children and some cafés. There were also a few goats around.

On Fløyen hill

On Fløyen hill

On Fløyen hill

I only took a short walk here and even sat on a bench where I could enjoy the beautiful view of Bergen and the sunny weather. I also felt like taking a photo of myself there.

On Fløyen hill

A little later, I went back to the upper station and soon found myself in a funicular car again, but this time heading down.

In the Fløibanen funicular’s car

It was already late afternoon and although the day in the north of Europe was long (in late April, the sun in Bergen sets after 9 PM) I still wanted to walk some more before heading to dinner. So I did. Although I couldn’t resist photographing Bryggen again, this time I expanded the circle of my exploration a bit.

Bergen

Bergen, a detail

In the photo below, you can also see the route of the Fløibanen funicular as it makes its way to the top of the hill above the city.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

And then I returned to Vågen Bay and finally sat down for dinner at a restaurant. It was quite sufficient and definitely very tasty.

Bergen, a detail

By the time I finished dinner, the sun had already set, but it was still not completely dark. However, although I took a few photos and found the details of this very beautiful city intriguing and attractive, I didn’t linger long on the streets of Bergen. The next day, I would continue my tour of Norway by car, so it was important for me to get a good and sufficient rest.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

The next day was exceptionally beautiful, but also quite exhausting. What made it most memorable was the incredible luck I had. The day was perfect – blue sky, mostly free of clouds, and the sun shining brightly through the clear air characteristic of Norway. The country benefits from its coastal location, extensive forests (over 33% of Norway's land area is covered by forests) and a population that does not litter, plus they are wealthy enough to advocate and practice a "green agenda."

(As a side note: Without diminishing the natural features, the sea and forests, or the cleanliness of the people themselves, it wouldn’t surprise me if Norway, like many wealthy countries, exports its waste to be recycled in less affluent countries (often in Southeast Asia, meaning it’s transported halfway around the world) that need the money and are willing to accept anything. This makes the "green agenda" of wealthy countries somewhat hypocritical, but such practices are common among entities with money – they can get away with it.)

In any case, I left Bergen relatively early and since it was a Sunday, I thought there wouldn’t be much traffic on the road. I was mistaken in that regard, but it wasn’t dramatic. There were simply more vehicles than in the previous days. Perhaps I was also travelling on more popular routes.

Here is a map showing where I travelled on this day:

I didn’t head directly to my final destination for the day, as I had planned the trip and route to make the most of travelling by car and to explore the country as much as possible, even if it meant a lot of driving. On this day, I spent 11 hours driving from the starting point to the final destination. Considering the number of stops I made in order to take photos, this is not too surprising, but it was all worth it. It’s also important to note that in late April, the sun sets after 9 PM at these latitudes, so the day was long enough.

First, I headed towards Gudvangen, which is located at the end of the Nærøyfjord, a narrow and long arm of the Sognefjord that I had travelled along the previous day.

After leaving Bergen and navigating through some initial traffic where I had to focus closely on the road and the conditions there, the route began to lead me through incredibly beautiful landscapes with less traffic. This allowed me to stop at a pull-off on the opposite side of the road and walk over to the guardrail to capture what I found appealing.

On the road from Bergen to Gudvangen

On the road from Bergen to Gudvangen

On the road from Bergen to Gudvangen

I must admit that I wished Norwegians had more designated parking areas where one could stop briefly and enjoy the stunning views. If that were the case, it would have taken me at least 2 days to cover the same route. The distance from Bergen to Gudvangen is nearly 150 km, and it takes almost two and a half hours to drive that distance.

Fortunately, there were occasional pull-offs along the road after all, often because of local bus stops, which were quite sufficient for taking photos.

On the road from Bergen to Gudvangen

So I arrived at the lake called Seimsvatnet, which is 2.7 km long, while the scenery there was absolutely magnificent. When it came to selecting photos to accompany this story of mine, I faced a huge dilemma. All the photos looked stunning and I felt they all deserved to be shared with others. Nevertheless, I had to make a more selective choice.

Lake Seimsvatnet

Lake Seimsvatnet

Lake Seimsvatnet

Lake Seimsvatnet

Lake Seimsvatnet

Lake Seimsvatnet

Lake Seimsvatnet

Lake Seimsvatnet

And then I moved from the designated parking area a hundred metres further to a bus stop, where I had to get out of the car again to take photos because I was completely captivated by the beauty.

Lake Seimsvatnet

Lake Seimsvatnet

At this spot, I also had the “bonus” of seeing a beautiful white wagtail (Motacilla alba).

White wagtail

Then I drove another 4 km and (once again) had to stop. This time, it was near Lake Vangsvatnet. All the lakes I’ve mentioned are located in the municipality of Voss, while this particular lake is situated roughly in the centre of the municipality. The lakes are connected by the Voso River flowing westwards into a fjord. Lake Vangsvatnet covers an area of nearly 8 sq. km.

Lake Vangsvatnet

Lake Vangsvatnet

Lake Vangsvatnet

Lake Vangsvatnet

Here, I also managed to spot and photograph two types of birds. One was the Eurasian oystercatcher (Haematopus ostralegus) and the other was the great tit (Parus major).

Eurasian oystercatcher

Great tit

By the way, my photos, while showcasing incredibly beautiful landscapes, only reflect a small part of the natural splendour that is abundant in Norway and that I could see in passing.

After this stop, I continued towards Gudvangen and passed by a waterfall called Tvindefossen. The waterfall is 116 m high and is renowned for its beauty. Since the late 20th century, it has gained even more fame for its reputed properties – the story goes that the water from the Kroelvi stream, which creates the waterfall, is excellent for rejuvenation and enhancing sexual potency. As a result, over 200,000 people from all over the world visit the waterfall annually to collect its water. This is much better than killing rhinos, while the result is probably the same.

Tvindefossen

Tvindefossen

Soon I arrived at Lake Oppheimsvatnet, as well. Although the lake is not very high – at about 360 m above sea level – it still had ice left over from the previous winter.

Lake Oppheimsvatnet

Lake Oppheimsvatnet

Then the road led me between high mountains and I soon arrived in Gudvangen. I’ll share more about that in the next sequel of my story about the journey through Norway in April 2024.

Road to Gudvangen

Road to Gudvangen

Road to Gudvangen

Road to Gudvangen

The previous evening, I had booked a boat tour for this day, so I had a relaxed breakfast without rushing. I stayed in a very good hotel in the centre of Bergen, but when I made the reservation two months earlier, I got quite a good rate because the room I was assigned didn’t have any view – the windows faced a narrow and unimaginative atrium, meaning they looked out at a wall just a few metres away. However, the room reservation included breakfast, so I took full advantage of that and enjoyed my first meal of the day.

Part of the breakfast in Bergen

Since my hotel was very close to the port, I easily made my way there, as that’s where the boat was departing from. What amazed me when I stepped out of the hotel was the bright, sunny sky, which of course I couldn’t see from my room. It was perfect for what I had planned – a trip to one of Norway’s many fjords. However, since it was still relatively early, the streets of Bergen were quite empty.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

On the other hand, despite the blue sky with a few clouds, a rather strong wind was blowing, which, among other things, marked the day. While waiting to board the excursion boat, I tried to shield myself from the strong wind by standing next to the wall of a nearby building.

Excursion boat in Bergen

At first glance, this excursion seemed to tour a single fjord, but technically speaking, it involves three fjords in a row – Osterfjord, Romarheimsfjord and Mofjord. Also technically speaking, the latter, Mofjord, was originally a lake called Movatnet, which was connected to Romarheimsfjord by a small, shallow stream. Back then, boats were hauled overland to reach Movatnet. In 1743, flooding caused seawater to flow into the lake during high tide, while during low tide, the water flowed in the opposite direction.

Over time, the area was cleared, both naturally and through human intervention, and today large ships can navigate through it, though the channel connecting the fjords at this point is about 650 m long and only about 60 m wide. This area is called Mostraumen and, as I understood it, the houses visible there represent a kind of an open-air museum. The place looks absolutely perfect and day trips to these three fjords in a row are known as "Mostraumen tours" (or something similar).

At the beginning of the excursion, like the other passengers, I sat in a spacious cabin, but I soon went outside. It was both a great pleasure and a serious "challenge" – the temperature was still relatively low, but the wind was extremely strong, which not only cooled me down, but also frequently blew me around, and I had to be careful not to lose my cap.

Excursion by boat along the fjords near Bergen

I don’t have much to say about this part of the excursion: the boat was sailing, the weather was nice despite the wind, the scenery was varied but certainly extremely beautiful, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. That’s it. Now comes a series of photos illustrating all of this and at the end, there is a short video of the landscape I sailed through. The noise on the video comes from the wind, while the video concludes with the arrival at Mostraumen and the passage through the channel.

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Fjords near Bergen

Reaching Mostraumen and passing through the channel is a unique experience. To start with, the positioning of the meadow where the houses are arranged, almost like a piece of art, on such a beautiful sunny day was absolutely perfect.

Mostraumen

Mostraumen

For the large ship to pass through here, it had to slow down significantly, which provided ample time to capture some details.

Mostraumen

So, at this point, you enter from Romarheimsfjord into what was once a lake but is now Mofjord, which is about 7 km long and named after the settlement located at the end of the fjord.

Mostraumen

As we approached the settlement of Mo, I saw on the left-hand side the impressive Kvernhusfossen waterfall, which is about 120 meters high.

Kvernhusfossen waterfall is to the left, while the village of Mo is to the right

Kvernhusfossen waterfall

The excursion here involved only passing by the settlement of Mo, turning the boat around and returning to Bergen the same way. However, we first passed by another waterfall on the opposite side of the fjord and got quite close to it. This one is called Bergsåa Waterfall (Bergsåafossen).

Bergsåa Waterfall

Here I also made a short video.

We then headed towards the settlement of Mo, which we passed by with the boat. The scenery was so charming that I had to include a few photos and a short video clip here, too.

Mo village

Mo village

Mo village

Mo village

Mo village

From here, there is also a wonderful view of Mofjord and the surrounding mountains, including the Kvernhusfossen waterfall.

Mofjord

Now we headed back at full speed and that continued until we got to pass through the Mostraumen channel again, where we significantly slowed down.

Mofjord

And then the boat took us past vertical cliffs once more, this time within Romarheimsfjord, but still near Mostraumen. There is a waterfall here, although significantly smaller than the ones we had seen before. We passed so close that it felt like you could almost reach out and touch the rocks with your hand.

Cliffs and waterfall within the Romarheimsfjord

Cliffs and waterfall within the Romarheimsfjord

Romarheimsfjord

Romarheimsfjord

Since Romarheimsfjord is about 11 km long, the navigation through it was both sufficiently fast and long enough. With the position of the sun now making it better to stay on the boat's stern deck, the wind was also less intense.

Romarheimsfjord

Romarheimsfjord

During this return journey, I unexpectedly found myself immersed in the absolutely magical "Solveig's Song," a piece of incidental music composed by Edvard Grieg (1843-1907) in 1875 for the play Peer Gynt by Henrik Ibsen (1828-1906). This makes sense given that both Grieg and Ibsen were Norwegians, while Grieg was even born and died in Bergen. On the other hand, many years ago, I took solo singing lessons and even occasionally practiced singing this beautiful melody, though not very successfully.

In any case, I remembered this wonderful song and, while absorbing the beauty of the Norwegian fjords, I entertained myself by humming “la-la-la” to the melody. It wasn’t completely terrible, but it was significant that my rendition was somewhat lost to the wind due to the movement of the boat and the air. So, in the end, it was easier for everyone.

Here’s one of the beautiful versions you can find online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TUhk00H86g performed by famous Norwegian soprano Sissel Kyrkjebø. I’m not ashamed to admit that it is much better to listen to her than to me.

In the meantime, the ship's captain, unaware of the marvels happening on his deck, brought us into the Osterfjord area, which is 27 km long.

Osterfjord

There, as at the beginning of the excursion, we passed under the Nordhordland Bridge again, which I had written about in the previous sequel of my travel stories from Norway.

Nordhordland Bridge

And here is a map showing where I travelled during my stay in Norway, also pointing out the locations mentioned in this part of the story.

In any case, this excursion I took today lasts several hours, while the return to Bergen was not only interesting because I could view the old part of the city from the boat and imagine how seafarers might have approached it in ancient times, but it also gave me the opportunity to have some time for additional activities around the city.

Getting close to Bergen

Getting back to the port in Bergen

Getting back to the port in Bergen

In the previous sequel of my travelogue, I mentioned that the bay where the port is located, as well as the entire port, is called Vågen.

Getting back to the port in Bergen

The most impressive and beautiful part of Vågen was watching Bryggen, the old wharf in Bergen.

Getting back to the port in Bergen

The excursion boat docked on the opposite side of the harbour from Bryggen, which was perfect for me as it allowed me to take nice photos of this picturesque part of Bergen. I took advantage of this by capturing images both while I was still on the boat and even more extensively once I disembarked.

Bryggen

Bryggen

Bryggen

Bryggen

In the next photograph, you can see on the far right that one of the buildings is covered with huge fabric case or something. This is the Hanseatic Museum, which was closed for renovations during my visit, but this is only temporary. The museum building, along with the entire Bryggen district, is a cultural heritage site listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Bryggen

Bryggen

Bryggen

Here is also a video showing all of this while in motion:

When I finally managed to tear myself away from the stunning view of Bryggen, I set off for a walk around Bergen’s city centre. I didn’t focus too much on what each building was for; I simply enjoyed strolling through the city. Although the wind was still strong and the temperature was not high, the sun mostly managed to break through the clouds and illuminate this part of Norway, allowing me to truly enjoy the beauty of the urban details.

Speaking of the weather, I must mention that I had incredible luck during my stay in Norway, especially regarding the weather itself. While I believe that everything I visited and saw would look exceptionally magical if covered in snow, that’s only under the condition that it is bathed in sunlight, which is rarely the case if it is completely overcast. The previous day, I had enjoyed a drive around Sognefjord, but the fact remained that for most of the day, the sky was mostly covered with clouds, while the mountain peaks were shrouded in mist or low clouds.

On this day, by chance, I happened to see on the TV in the hotel restaurant during breakfast that almost all of Europe, except for Spain and the southern part of Norway, was under clouds. Yes, I really did have good luck with the weather.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Then I happened to come across a food stall offering various types of sausages and realised that I was actually a bit hungry. As soon as I saw what was on offer, I didn't hesitate for a moment. Among other things, there were reindeer sausages! I had to try them.

Bergen, a detail

The sausage was incredibly delicious. Since it was game meat, it was naturally lean, which I really liked. Even the fact that they topped the sausage with some sort of jam, in addition to mustard and crispy-fried onions, which is quite common in Scandinavia but absolutely unthinkable and even unacceptable in Serbia, didn’t bother me at all. Not only because I’ve expanded my culinary horizons over time, but also because it was genuinely a good combination (especially when you set aside any prejudice).

Light lunch in Bergen

After this delightful, tasty, but light lunch, I continued my walk around Bergen, this time along Øvregaten Street in order to approach Bryggen from the "upper" side.

Bergen, a detail

Øvregaten Street was a well-known area in the past as it housed the city's main market, where craftsmen had their shops. There were cobblers, goldsmiths, furriers, tailors, woodcarvers and those who made items from reindeer and elk antlers. Today, it is a charming street with picturesque houses, but it still has many shops on the ground floor of these buildings, although now they offer quite different goods.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

This street is located on an elevated area above the back part of Bryggen, so I found it interesting to see this significant part of Bergen from this side as well.

Bryggen, a detail

Bryggen, a detail

Bryggen, a detail

At the end of this street, within Bryggen, is Schøtstuene, one of the communal buildings that was specifically used in the past and today is part of the Hanseatic Museum. I don't know how, but I didn’t capture that part of Bryggen which is recognisable by the wall that encloses it from the upper side. However, this building is important because it was used for cooking in the past, which is a significant fact.

Since all the buildings in Bryggen were made of wood, the use of fire was strictly prohibited in them. People working in Bryggen still needed to eat and occasionally warm up. This building, Schøtstuene, was intended precisely for such purposes, and cooking for the workers was done there.

The danger of fire was always significant, while in 1955, several houses from the Hanseatic period burned to the ground. Archaeologists took advantage of this unfortunate circumstance, so excavations and research began, leading to the discovery of remains from the oldest settlement in the Bergen area from the 12th century. Various artefacts were also found, providing insights into life at that time. Most of these artefacts are now displayed in the modern Bryggens Museum, which was built next to the archaeological site. The following photograph shows the site and the rear of the museum, followed by a photograph of the museum’s front façade.

Bryggen, a detail

The Bryggens Museum

Across from the rear of the museum, there is a small park that also houses St. Mary’s Church.

St Mary’s Church

St Mary’s Church

It is believed that the construction of the church began in the first half of the 12th century and was completed in 1180. Of course, over time, the church has burned several times and required restoration and reconstruction, but it remains the oldest building in Bergen.

St Mary’s Church

And now I could descend to the shore of Vågen Bay and explore the centre of medieval Bergen from that side.

About a dozen kilometres past the town of Balestrand, I noticed a sign suggesting a place to take a break. Since I wasn’t driving fast, I easily managed to pull off the road into a widening that resembled a spacious parking area with a green space in the middle. However, apart from that, there was nothing else and, of course, no one else was there either. Nonetheless, I got out of the car and, as this place was almost on the fjord’s edge, I took a walk to look around since I had noticed some interesting details.

To start with, I passed by what seemed to be a storage area for timber, which certainly wasn’t something that would catch my eye. But, as it turned out, I had stopped in a very good spot because from the concrete platform by the water, there was a nice view of the small island Kvamsøy. So, I had, quite by chance, stopped here and, as it turned out, it made sense.

View at the islet of Kvamsøy

Later, I read that this place is considered exceptionally beautiful and that the widening which serves as a parking area for cars and campers was created with serious intent, rather than being a random extension that happens to be part of a timber storage area. Some details indeed looked very picturesque.

View at parts of Sognefjord and Kvamsøy islet

View at parts of Sognefjord and Kvamsøy islet

On the island, I also saw and photographed a small church, while later I read that the island is considered the smallest island in the world that has its own church. The Kvamsøy Church was built at the end of the 13th century and is one of the oldest stone churches in the Sogn og Fjordane region that I was passing through.

Kvamsøy Church

In addition to this, Kvamsøy is also considered one of the best natural harbours within the Sognefjord, while it also has some historical significance related to a 12th-century king who landed here with his fleet. It’s possible that this occurred right at the spot I photographed, which certainly looks idyllic.

Sognefjord coast opposite Kvamsøy

Sognefjord coast opposite Kvamsøy

I continued driving and soon passed by the church in the village of Sæle (Sæle Church) from 1903. This church was built to replace the one from the island of Kvamsøy.

New church by the Sognefjord

During another brief stop by the road, I was also able to see and photograph the impressive Sognefjord and its southern shore.

Sognefjord

As for the road in this area, although it followed the fjord's coastline, it was often lined with trees. There are many photographs online that show these landscapes covered in beautiful green vegetation, usually taken on sunny days with vibrant colours. The situation was quite different during my visit in April 2024. At that time, Norway was still experiencing early spring, while the deciduous trees were just beginning to get their new leaves. On the other hand, in terms of the weather, this was the worst day of the week I spent in the north of Europe, so I think I was quite fortunate.

Sognefjord’s north coast in early spring

Sognefjord’s north coast in early spring

Occasionally, drops of rain fell, but it wasn't anything dramatic. At one point, the road began to wind around a narrow branch of the main fjord that extends into the land like a finger (though only about 3 km in length).

Sognefjord’s north coast in early spring

The road again followed the coastline at the end of that branch, creating a large curve, but the view was interesting once more.

Sognefjord’s north coast in early spring

On the other side of the road in this area, there were some houses and even though the clouds had significantly lowered, the fresh green colour of the young grass and some of those houses brought colour to this beautiful region.

Human presence on the north coast of Sognefjord

Human presence on the north coast of Sognefjord

Several hundred metres past this curve, the road leads to the Høyanger Tunnel. It was just one of the many tunnels I drove through that day, but what a tunnel this was – 7,543 m long. When it opened in 1982, it was the longest tunnel in Norway, though it has since lost that title. Besides its length, I was fascinated by the fact that during my drive through the tunnel, I only saw 4-5 cars (in both directions).

After exiting the tunnel, just a couple of kilometres farther, you pass through the town of Høyanger, which the tunnel is named after.

Now, I had less than 50 km to go to the next ferry that would take me across to the southern side of the Sognefjord. Along the way, I stopped at a few places where it was convenient and seemed interesting.

For example, at the Nordeide ferry dock. The ferries operating from this dock were not suitable for my plans, but I stopped there anyway because there was a large parking area and everything was practically right next to the main road. When I got out of the car, I could peacefully take more photos of the details related to the Sognefjord.

Nordeide ferry dock

Sognefjord

Sognefjord

Or when the road started to climb a bit after the town of Vadheim, which is located at the end of a smaller fjord that is a branch of the larger Sognefjord.

Vadheim

Since it was occasionally drizzling by now, I didn’t linger much along the way and drove straight to the Lavik ferry dock. I had to wait a bit, but soon both my car and I were comfortably settled on the ferry. Once again, I was able to walk around the ferry and find good spots from which to photograph the surroundings.

Leaving the north shore of the Sognefjord

Crossing the Sognefjord by ferry

South shore of the Sognefjord

Here's what a snippet of that experience looked like, captured on video.

When I disembarked on the southern shore of the Sognefjord, I continued southwards since my final destination for the day was the city of Bergen. The road occasionally climbed up the mountains, providing views of some places and bays from above. As this is a very mountainous region, there were also waterfalls created by the melting snow.

On the road to Bergen

On the road to Bergen

On the road to Bergen

It had already rained earlier while I was driving along the northern shore of the Sognefjord and even while crossing it by ferry. Now, however, it was occasionally quite heavy and at higher elevations, it had turned into sleet.

On the road to Bergen

Occasionally, the rain did stop and it made sense then to pull over, get out of the car and capture some details of the area I was travelling through.

On the road to Bergen

On the road to Bergen

And then, near the town of Ostereidet, I finally came across a roadside restaurant where I could enjoy a nice coffee and take a pleasant rest.

On the road to Bergen

After this break, I took a short walk around the area near the restaurant, took a few photographs and then returned to the car in order to continue on to Bergen.

On the road to Bergen

On the road to Bergen

On the road to Bergen

On the road to Bergen

In this part of Norway, there is an incredible abundance of islands, islets, fjords and lakes. However, up until about 20 kilometres before Bergen, the road manages to stay on land and winds its way across it. Then, you reach the obstacle in the shape of Salhusfjorden, where a ferry line used to be necessary. However, in 1994, the Nordhordland Bridge was opened and that simplified everything.

Nordhordland Bridge

It is the second-longest bridge in Norway and it constitutes a combination of a cable-stayed bridge and a pontoon bridge. It measures 1,614 m in length, it is 99 m high and its longest span is 172 m.

Nordhordland Bridge

As for Bergen, I had reserved a room at a good hotel in the city centre, but the problem was that they didn’t have parking for hotel guests. I still thought it was a better option than choosing a hotel on the outskirts of the city that might offer parking, since this would complicate my stay in the city. It is nice to be in the centre of Bergen, especially when you’re only here for a day and a half.

So, following the hotel's advice, I drove to a nearby public parking area, left my car there and then walked to the hotel, which was only some hundred metres away.

Bergen, a detail

Once at the hotel, I quickly completed all the formalities, left my things in the room and headed out relatively fast. I knew I would have daylight for at least a few more hours, but it was already around 7 PM, so I wanted to take a stroll around Bergen and go out for dinner.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen is a city on the western coast of Norway, sometimes referred to as the "wooden city" due to its old wooden houses. It is the second-largest city in the country, right after Oslo, and it was even the capital of Norway until 1299, when the honour was transferred to Oslo.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

During the Middle Ages, from the 13th to the 17th century, there was a trading alliance known as the Hanseatic League, or Hansa, which first established and then maintained a trade monopoly over the Baltic and North Seas. The Hanseatic League was founded in 1358 by several German cities and eventually expanded to include around 200 cities and settlements. They had a trading post, or Kontor, in Bergen, with their first office established as early as in 1360. The Hanseatic League primarily traded in timber, tar, leather, furs, grains, beeswax and honey, but their trade also included textiles and metal ores. Regarding the Bergen Kontor, one of the main exporting products from here was dried fish that could survive for several years in that form and still remain edible.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

The Bergen Kontor operated until 1754, while its central part was located in large wooden commercial buildings. This area is called Bryggen and it is situated on the eastern side of Vågen Bay, which includes the harbour. Of the entire Bergen Kontor, only its buildings, known as Bryggen, have survived to this day.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Due to its historical significance, Bryggen is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Additionally, one of only two museums in the world dedicated to the history of the Hanseatic League is located here in Bergen.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Since I planned to spend the entire next day in Bergen, my idea was to explore Bryggen more thoroughly then. For now, I was just leisurely strolling aimlessly around the city centre. My impressions were very positive.

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

Bergen, a detail

But by now, I was quite hungry because the day had been long, I had driven a lot and the food I had in the car as a "first aid" wasn’t quite enough to meet my daily needs. So, I decided to go to a restaurant right by the harbour, in the part of the city known as the Fish Market (Fisketorget). There are several fish shops linked to restaurants here and some of them have an indescribably fantastic selection of fish and seafood, all displayed in refrigerated cases. Here’s a photo and a video of it:

Fish and seafood offer at a restaurant in Bergen

I opted for much simpler fare, though it wasn’t bad at all, and most importantly, I ended up feeling quite comfortably full.

Part of the dinner in Bergen

Part of the dinner in Bergen

Part of the dinner in Bergen

I have to admit that I still don’t dare to experiment with shellfish in my culinary adventures. Instead, when I got back home, I decided to try making the famous Norwegian fish soup, Fiskesuppe. It turned out quite well, while I even made a special plate myself in an attempt to get as close to the original as possible.

NORWEGIAN FISH SOUP

• 350 g of fish fillet (white fish and salmon)
• 150 g of shrimps (or half a dozen)
• 1 clove of garlic
• 1 large carrot
• 2 smaller potatoes
• 150 g of leek (the white part)
• 1 l of fish stock
• 250 ml of milk
• 200 ml crème fraîche
• 2 tbsp butter
• 3 tbsp flour
• seasoning from the recipe (according to your taste)

Cut the fish into cubes and the vegetables into thin sticks (this is mandatory) and set aside.

Melt butter in a pot, then add the chopped garlic. As soon as it starts to colour, add flour, stirring to avoid burning, and then pour in clear fish stock (broth) and mix well in order to prevent any lumps of flour.

Add the milk and vegetables, and cook for about 10-15 minutes. Then add the fish and cook for another 5 minutes. Season with salt and ground white pepper.

Take a few tablespoons of the soup and mix with the crème fraîche in order to create a smooth mixture. Return the mixture to the pot, then add the shrimps and cook for just 1-2 minutes.

Finally, sprinkle the soup with chopped chives, but you can also use dill.

Norwegian fish soup done in my way

By the way, while sitting in the restaurant waiting for my dinner, I took the opportunity to book an excursion for the next day. My plan was to leave the car parked for two nights and the day in between, which I would spend as a “pedestrian.”

Very satisfied with the entire day and the experience, I retired to my room early and fell asleep quickly.