DON’T MENTION THE WAR!!!!!!!!!

No, not that war but the war of 10 years ago between Bosnia, Croatia and Serbia. Yes, I’ve been on holiday again, this time to Croatia. How come, I hear you ask, you can take so much leave from the BBC? Well, the scary answer is that I’ve been there 25 years, and my reward is an extra 5 weeks leave this year. Scarier still, I went with my friend Jo, who started on the same day, on the same course (Clerk Typist)! We’ve been plotting this little jaunt for a while, mainly on night shifts between Sports bulletins on World Service. It was mostly a non-royal holiday so, bearing in mind that Janet will be uploading salient bits to the website, I won’t gabble on about non-royal things we did. We started in Dubrovnik – bombed to pieces apparently but you’d never guess. Been restored to perfection – lovely old town, medieval, walls you can walk around, harbour, nearby beaches, idyllic islands, clear blue waters of the Adriatic etc etc. Too perfect actually – Walt Disney would have been proud of it, especially the tacky tourist gift shops in which we spent nothing!! No, really, nothing. There were a few museums but nothing did mention the war, except a small memorial hall dedicated to those who died defending the city.

We did day trips. One was to Mostar – which Mike imagined was still a war zone and was horrified to find us going to. Mostar is famous for its bridge – a big arch affair that was a feat of engineering before it was blown up during the war. It’s been totally rebuilt and is, once again, a feat of engineering. But a devil of a job to walk over as it slopes up and down and the stones used are very slippery. In a museum of photos the bridge was featured greatly. And there was 1 of old Franz Joseph walking over it surrounding by a load of dignitaries. I explained to Jo that it was FJ but she scoffed at my being able to recognise the very distant figure walking over the bridge. She had a point as I couldn’t see his face but it definitely was FJ. Mostar is making the most of its bridge and the surrounding narrow streets are full of gift shops but hooray, not tacky ones. A few silly items were bought including a pair of Moorish slippers which Mike still hasn’t noticed me wearing yet.

One other day trip of interest from Dubrovnik was Montenegro!!!!!! Yes, Cetinje (pronounced Set-in-Yer). Poor poor Jo had not a clue what she was in for though in fairness, I did try to warn her. It was a good 2 hour car ride in hot weather. One noticed immediately on crossing the border the difference between Croatia and Montenegro. Montenegro was much poorer, housing not as good, and generally a bit rundown. Our driver tried to steer us to the more attractive places – a drive around Kotor Bay was what he had planned – a beautiful area that features heavily in the first few chapters of that huge Nikola and Milena book we all have – mainly as an area where heaps of wars they don’t mention took place. Our driver, Luca, was a tadge put out when forced to head straight to Cetinje using a car ferry not dissimilar to the one that crosses the Thames at Woolwich (though without Mike’s childhood memories of riding back and forth on it for a whole day). And then Cetinje is very much up in the mountains – lots of plongez du mort wiggly roads that took ages to drive along. How any Euro royal got to Cetinje is anyone’s guess though it does have a bus station now.

The simple royal palace at Cetinje

We got to there. “You will need one hour”, Luca said. “No we won’t, we’ll need at least 2”, I replied. “But if you take one hour, there is time to do the Bay and a nice old village on the way back”. Poor Luca hadn’t given up and was puzzled. He’d tried several times to persuade us on the way that Cetinje wasn’t really the place for two respectable tourists. We left him, a tadge hurt, in a car park promising to be back two hours later. We were – but more on that to come. We went first to the palace where they were able, pretty much straightaway, to give us a guided tour in English! We were left in a waiting room for a few minutes, under strict instructions not to photograph anything, Imagine Jo’s surprise as I switched the flash off my camera, posted her on lookout and took as many photos as I could. Not much in this room, 2 rather magnificent portraits of Nikola and Milena and his desk. I’d just about finished when the guide came in, and away she went, talking as quickly as possible. Undoubtedly, her tour was scripted and was very much in Intourist manner. Jo looked appalled as she bored us to death about the medals on the wall that Nikola had been awarded. This had been his office and was on the ground floor. We moved swiftly across the small hall to a waiting room. Here the guide went into overdrive about the palace’s collection of stamps with Nikola’s head on. Meanwhile, I was surveying the costumes in the room – under strict instructions from Charlotte to find out as much as possible about them. The guide made the mistake of drawing breath for two seconds and I was in there. The guide recoiled in shock and tried to explain that the tour did not incorporate such details but seeing as I wasn’t going to give up, went off to get the palace’s curator. Said curator spoke not a word of English but we managed to ascertain that we were looking at a few evening dresses belonging to various of the Princesses, and Nikola’s unforms, both traditional and ones he’d been given by various other royals. + a good few dresses belonging to Milena, in traditional style but made from silk.

After this small hiatus, the tour carried on, upstairs and to the state rooms – 2 fairly small ones first, the Venetian and Indonesian. These belonged to Danilo at one point and are probably now named after the furniture in them rather than anything else. The Indonesian furniture is all very black wood with yellow upholstery. Unusual but not pretty, very old, handed down by Nikola’s uncle who ruled before him. Then on to the dining room, small by usual standards, probably seating about 26, in Montenegran peasantish style. One large sideboard with glassware including a pair of matching vases with Umberto and Marghita on them. Also glasscases containing Russian cutlery and glass from probably somewhere very important but we were back in Intourist mode now and asking was not going to work.

Next door to this room was a smaller, family dining room, with some rather dark furniture making it look a bit gloomy – like the family dining room in Livadia. On to the state drawing room, with a number of familiar portraits of royals we know – AII and AIII with wives (one looking like the cover of Little Mother of Russia) and Nap III with Eugenie. “They are Winterhalter”, the guide said. “Copies I should think”, I said in agreement. “No, they are the real thing”, she insisted, “we have done the research”. I find this incredibly difficult to believe but was in no position to argue I felt. The next room was a smaller reception room, another family room, with portraits of Nikola and Milena – this would probably have been Nikola’s room as it felt very masculine. The smaller next room would have been Milena’s reception room, with a huge portrait of the Italian royals on the wall + a rather incredible gold and porcelain mosaic oval picture of Elena. Then came Nicola’s bedroom – not sure how much was original here but the double bed certainly was. The next room was more of a corridor between Nikola and Milena’s bedrooms. This contained a series of paintings of virtually all their kids, by the Croatian painter Vlaho Bukovac. This bloke is a bit a legend, travelled the world, really prolific, featured in every museum in Croatia etc etc. We visited his home on an island near Dubrovnik where he’d painted the walls for something to do. Milena’s bedroom had only a single bed in it, and next door was Xenia’s bedroom with a load of hideous black furniture that I felt very inappropriate for a bedroom. Down the corridor was Vera’s room, much more feminine, with pink furnishings and wallpaper, a piano and 3 of her dresses. She was very much into the arts and can you believe that George Bernard Shaw stayed for a week at Cetinje and gave the palace a tapestry as a thank you!

The tour lasted well over an hour and then there was the bookshop. Not nearly as empty as I expected, in fact, so full that I had to borrow cash from Jo, and then get her to help me carry the books. She was very good natured about it. The guide, after heavy tip, sent us on our way telling us that the Crown Prince’s Blue Palace was down the road and could be seen, and in Bar, a drive of an hour away, was Topolica, also once owned by King Nikola and now open as a museum.

The Crown Prince's Palace, Cetinje

So, picture the scene, two crazy British women, fat and 40, struggling through Cetinje carrying a load of books, trying to find the Crown Prince’s palace. “People are looking at us”, Jo said. “Of course they are, this sort of thing happens to me all the time”, I replied. “Lunch is out of the question, isn’t it?” Jo asked. It was, of course. We passed what had been the British embassy (Danilo and Jutta’s marriage ceremony took place there) and found the Crown Prince’s palace. I deposited Jo and books on nearby seat and went to explore. It has had serious foreign money spent on it for renovation, and is pristine, will be open as some kind of gallery space, but was shut when we were there – I know because I tried every door I could find. I took pictures from all angles and went back to find Jo. “Have you seen the size of the ants around here”, she asked. Fortunately, before clambering through undergrowth for photo opportunities, I hadn’t. Jo wasn’t happy in Cetinje, she found it a tadge uncomfortable, perhaps even threatening. I found it a strange little one horse town that reminded me a lot of small Russian towns I’ve been in like Gatchina.

Time was running out but we had a quick look at the buildings opposite the palace. Allegedly, one was the home of Peter and Jorka but I am not sure which, and one old palace used to be the home of Nikola and Milena before they built the palace. This building is certainly there and photos were taken.

Next stop was a tiny Orthodox church, called Cipur, where Nikola and Milena had been reburied not so long ago. Two huge marble sarcophagi, an iconostasis and a gift shop. I thought of Ove and took as many photos as I could.

The Church at Cipur, with the graves of King Nikola and Queen Milena

Back to Luca and the car park. He was frankly shocked now to see the size of the book collection. “We go to Kotor Bay now?” Oh no we don’t. I told him we needed another half an hour to see the monastery and Jo told him we had to go to Bar to find Topolica. The journalists’ instinct had been aroused in Jo and she was determined we’d follow the trail to the end! And so we had a look at the monastery, where Colin Parrish had tipped me off that Jorka was buried. This is one of those very holy places that really have atmosphere and rarely see anyone who is a non-Orthodox tourist. It was very like the basement chapel in the Feodorovski Sobor, and there were icons of N&A and family. Everything was in Cyrillic but I think buried in the chapel were the uncles of Nikola. Outside is a small, open air chapel, which appeared to have the burial stones of Jorka, her youngest child, and several others that I would guess were Vera and Xenia who were reburied at the same times as Nikola and Milena. It was impossible to get close enough to work this out. I took as many photos as I could and may be able to make out more from them later.

The royal burial site at the monastery

Luca had composed himself and was now ready for his drive to Bar. No more mentions of Kotor Bay, he realised that it’s best not to antagonise outspoken loud British women. He even began getting interested in the whole venture. “But how do we find the palace when we get there?” he asked. He did not bat an eyelid when I produced a picture of it from my notes. And find it we did, very easily, because it’s signposted on the main road into Bar. It’s a big thing in Bar, but sadly, so big that it was under renovation. It’s some kind of historical museum and again, a lot of money is being spent on it. Bar is a port town, and Topolica looks out over the sea through beautiful palm trees. Behind it is a lovely park. It’s an enchanting spot. And I would love to go back.

Topolica

For any other nutter planning to go to Montenegro, I would allow yourself two days. You really need 1 whole day in Cetinje – there are several other museums and I suspect there are more royal things in them despite the guide telling me there weren’t. It would be nice to walk around the town more and get a feel of it, and Jo said it would be nice to have time for lunch. And then you need to have a day in Bar. And leave it a year for the Bar palace to be open.

Well, Luca couldn’t have hated us too much as, at the end of the day, he gave me his card and said get in touch if ever I want to go to Montenegro again from Dubrovnik. I think I’d rather just go to Montengro actually.

After Dubrovnik, Jo and I moved onto Split where there ain’t nothing royal to see at all but a lot of Roman ruins. A day was all we spent here before moving on to Zagreb where my friend John is currently working. Zagreb is very much a cross between the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the Communist influence. Plenty of Habsburg yellow buildings. We did a whole host of museums, art galleries, churches and gift shops. Good gift shops here and plenty of traditional crafts. Mike hasn’t taken kindly to the embroidered material now covering his piano. The history museums have mentions of FJ and his rule but not vast amounts. One had an early portrait of him that wasn’t very like. I had my comeuppance here though. Jo knew of a restaurant run by a former Croatian footballer and was determined we’d dine there. And we did. Fortunately, it was fantastic though I was quite determined that I would brave it out even if the place had been full of Croatian football fans. We left the day before the major Split football team played Dinamo Zagreb. A relief because if they’d been playing when we were there, I think I’d have had to go, enjoy it and probably buy the tickets as well.

Copyright Sue Woolmans, 2007

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