Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Still 2 Weeķs in Arrears: Sv. Barbara

Despite her prowess as protectress from the lightning bolt, Sv. Barbara  proved a lady throughout our coming and going.   With GPS, an excellent new map which I had downloaded to my tablet, and a clue from the young curator in Skrip, I knew just where she was waiting and I had a good idea how to get there.  We geared up for a moderately long hike, brought along our umbrellas just in case, climbed the highway in our car up and out of Nerezisce heading east, and then surprised ourselves.  Instead of parking farther down the road past the turnoff to Podgazul and then hiking in, as was our plan, we veered onto a side road just before the road to Vidova Gora and drove a rocky way all the way to the church!

We drove the old road from Praznice to Nerezisce, through rustic orchard and through macchia, that Mediterranean scrub so different from the vegetation lower on the island,  passed several dolines,  those sinkholes typical of the karst,  noticed the rams skull and sheep pelt hanging in branches along the way, paused so that Julia could climb out of the car and open a couple of sheep gates, crawled slowly over the rough spots, and pulled into a wide spot in a rough crossroads in the shade next to Sv. Barbara.

She was half-hidden in the copse, flanked by a low stone wall, stone mounds, stone walls, and stoney fields, Ah, she was modest, but not coy, possessed a slightly tallish but not exaggerated aspect, and presented a simple elegance in her full dress of shining white plaster.

In the interests of reporting objectivity, and as inappropriate as it may be perhaps, I feel I must comment upon her square apse.  (Lady, forgive me!)  And also upon the curious crescent shaped flying arch covering her lunette, which almost reminded me if some outlandish medieval hat as seen in a painting by Someone the Elder.  (Again, please forgive me.) 

Peering inside, we could see a plain altar with a small crucifix upon it and no altarpiece behind.  The apse inside was pleasingly rounded.

Saint Barbara, like Sv. Theodore,  was also a favorite of the Eastern church.  Take a fairy tale princess locked away from the world in a tower, add curiosity, conversion and some subsequent grisly torture, nursings by angels in the nightime, steadfastness and a final beheading by her own father, and you have her story.  With the slight addendum, that her father was then killed by a lightningbolt , as would be only proper, as he went home from her execution.

We sat on a crude bench in the sun for a bit, wandered about being generally inquisitive, looked for aesthetically pleasing rocks, drank some water, checked the sky for thunderclouds, and bade her a polite adieu.

My idea that we try to continue on the road and intersect the highway further on brought us into the midst of a flock of milling sheep, to a wild pig hunting stand decaying in a white stone clearing, and then prudently we wheeled about and went out the way we had come in.  Good grief, the whole adventure was so civilised and comfortable my grandmother could have done it.  Oh, wait, we are our grandparents.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Happy Birthday, Tim

We were out of town for a day or so but still wanted to register an official Happy Birthday wish.
John and Julia

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Catch-up: Saint Theodore

We set out to find Sv. Tudor on a sunny day in early October, the last day of sun before the rains came. At the time of course all we knew was the delight of hiking in pleasant weather on a sun dappled path through pine, over stone, and between stoney walls in an air laden with rosemary and other herb. 

This was my second year church hunting equipped with GPS, but as I had found out last year, without coordinates or a good map showing your target's location, GPS was of limited use.  It could show you where you were but not where you needed to go.  As an aide, then, I had researched some descriptions of the church's location:  "below the mound on Velo Brdo";  "on the northwest slope of the ridge below Crno Korita";   "150 meters west of Zurmo."  (This last bit was either 180 degrees wrong, or we misunderstood what "Zurmo" meant in this context.)

We drove out of Nerezisce, off the pavement, onto the sharp rocky road so typical of the island, past the recently lighting-struck church of Sv. Jakov, and past the turn off to the stone formation Kolac.   The lane narrowed between shrubs and stone walls, changed suddenly from the crushed rock to well-worn stone, plunged, and came to an end --  as far as our auto was concerned -- in an valley, part agriculture, part rusting machinery.   




















The pathway that climbed out of this valley was a surprise.  It was wide and elegant, with cut stone curbing and cobble-stones in places, evidently once a pathway of some importance running from the capitol town.  (I have a memory of a section of stones, round and polished as ostrich eggs, heavily eroded between, although when I look at photograps I can't find this.)  Along the way, it offered panoramic views of Nerezisce, the white mountains of the mainland, wooded valleys and piney mountains.  As we walked, we were kept company by Velo Brdo just to the northwest, sporting its enormous, highly visible prehistoric cairn.

Sv. Tudor -- or Theodore -- is a warrior saint especially important in the Eastern Orthdox church.  A general in the Roman army in 4th century Turkey, brought before a tribunal he refused to repent of his Christian faith even though it was a capital crime.  Set free, he attempted to burn a temple to Cybele and was subsequently martyred.  (Note: Cybele takes care of her own.) Tales of his exploits grew so complex and so contradictory, that eventually he was split into two Sv. Theodores, he of Amasea and he of Heraclea, distinguished by a beard with a single point or with two points.  He was the patron saint of the Byzantine army and the first patron saint of Venice until he was dislodged by a pieced together St. Mark in the 9th century as Venice attempted to divest itself of Byzantine influence.

Finding a church here dedicated to him seemed puzzling.  He  is of little importance to the populace now on this Roman Catholic island.  His church here is in ruins and the one in Bol that he shared with St. John was rededicated in the Middle Ages to St. John only.  But then the curator in the island museum in Skrip reminded me of the Byzantine emperor Justinian's reconquest of the Western Roman Empire int the 6th century.  Neighboring Salona was retaken in 536. There was a Byzantine army camp here in Bol.  This small church was evidently built in thanksgiving for victory over the Goths.  And too as I mentioned Sv. Theodore was the patron saint of Venice. And Venice of course ruled Brac for 800 years from the capitol in nearby Nerezisce, just a couple of kilometers away.

And finally and certainly Sv. Tudor known as the dragon slayer  found a welcome for a while at least on this island of vipers and adders until he was replaced by St. George,  his sometime companion and now the patron saint of the island.

Obilivious of this history at the time, we walked on, climbing steadily until we heard sheep, glimpsed briefly, running in their faux-panic through the trees.  Soon after, we came upon the ancient Roman water hole, Zurmo. 




















Zurmo is "Roman" in that there once existed a Roman settlement there that used the watering hole for their livestock.  The presence of the nearby tumuli suggests that it has an even older history.  The sheep today suggest that it continues to fulfill its ancient role.  At any rate, it is unmistakable and easily spotted along the trail.  From there, after several false starts trying to interpret the clues I had found, we had the presence of mind to backtrack about 240 paces from the water until we spied an old but distinct path on the south side of the path sweeping up towards the ridge and Crno Korita.  Climbing this a very short way and we found what remains of the 1500 year old church of Sv. Tudor / Theodore.

The ruins are perched on a piney hillside and are perhaps a meter or more high.  The four walls, the semi-circular aspe, and what may be some unusual square column work on its east side are all visible.  The apse is full of toppled stone and dressed stone lies round about.  Sitting atop the stones looking out the doorway facing west, you have a fine view of Velo Brdo before you, the quarry works of Donji Humacs and the site of the old church of Sdv. Illija to your right, and through another piney valley  the sea to your left. Off to the side is a natural sculpture garden,  altars, or perhaps a picnic area, of white stone.  It is very close and beautiful.  You hear the sheep, the wind;  you feel the silent pressure of ages.

















At some later time perhaps I will tell of the gift that Sv. Tudor offered me there and of what efforts I subsequently made to claim it.

Rakija

Last week to my great sorrow I was sicker than a dawg just when I was supposed to be on the mainland with Slavko getting the residue of his winemaking distilled to brandy.  

Slavko wrote me:

'Those adorable, sweet smells once they open up the brandy cooking pots!  Sorry John for not experiencing this!'

Ahem.  Next year maybe.

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Almir and Dragana Send Sarajevo Greetings

Dragana writes:

We've just had a great dinner, and we're thinking about you!! We miss you so much. :) 

Here's the newest 'masterpiece' - almost finished!

This and that

Well, a few days ago we broke out of the rain and back into sun.  Julia managed to give me her Sarajevo cold and I was drowning in my own fluids til we found Coldrex (consider this a plug).  Still we have managed to do more backroads island exploring, some walking, meet some interesting people, sun soaking.  I have visited two more ancient churches and still have two more to go this year.  We leave in 3 weeks and I am staring at a long list of home  maintenance issues.  I am however well enough now to drink beer again.  That helps a bit.  And the prospect of a terrifying trip to the top of the mountains on the mainland with Slavko.....

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Yay!

Bosnia-Herzegovina made history Tuesday, qualifying for its first World Cup in its fifth attempt as an independent nation!

Wednesday, October 09, 2013

Fwd: Stupid things I would say if I were there

I am fighting to break free


-------- Original message --------
From charles grimes <charlesgrimes9@gmail.com>
Date: 10/09/2013 12:30 AM (GMT+01:00)
To jhurd <jhurd@qsoup.net>
Subject Stupid things I would say if I were there


What is bothering you
what has grabbed you in such a tight grip
it's only one painting you have so many more great paintings inside of you
if you can't finish this painting shoot it And move on

Charles

Sent from my iPhone

After Sarajevo

After Sarajevo, and a brief stop one hour north to visit Ermis's mom, Mejra, we headed into the Bosnian mountains to the ancient town of Jajce.  Jajce lies at the confluence of two rivers, deep in the river valleys and is famous for its beautiful waterfalls among other things.  Above the town is a huge ancient fortress built about, hmmmmm, 1200 or before.  It was the site of the coronation of the last King of Bosnia.  Islam was on its way, and it served both Islam and Austro-Hungary later.  It was also a headquarters for Tito during a couple years of WWII and witnessed the creation of the renewed state of Yugoslavia during that war.  What drew me here was a ruined temple to the god Mitras,  I'd never seen one, and which I soon discovered, was now preserved in a style I'd never expected.  Julia and I had our photo taken at the waterfalls by the Commander of NATO in the Balkans, an American General.  Sometimes it seems so close over here.

Tuesday, October 08, 2013

Thursday, October 03, 2013

Photo Catch-up One















































Last week we went to the mainland and stayed for three days in a room just below the ancient fortress of Klis, which overlooks Solin and Split.  During that time, we drove rocky roads past concrete Italian bunkers from WWII to the top of the karst mountains and the medieval church of St. Jure.  The true attraction was the shining wall of white stone that Slavko is building at his house in Solin.