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We Americans like excuses it seems. I'm guilty of it myself as the next person. If something doesn't go right, we try and find a reason, some other thing that is the cause of why it doesn't work. If we are ill, we always try and find a reason as to why it happened. Why?       Of course the irony in my asking this is that I'm only begging the question to a certain extent and furthering the issue of required causality that we seem to need. But still, I can't think of what the historical background is as to why we try to find causes and/or excuses. People in other countries just have to deal with things the way they are. For instance, if you bruise your arm walking into a pipe that's sticking out from a wall, you can't sue the building owner. It's just your tough luck.       Now, as I think about it, it seems that there is maybe one historical reason and one more modern reason as to why our society has evolved the way it has. The historical reason may be the fact that this was originally a colony and let's face it, life sucked here. If the malaria and malnutrition didn't get you, then wild animals, harsh weather, or unfriendly native peoples probably would. But, this was also the land of opportunity, so lest we blame the problems on plain old dumb luck, we blame them on the King of England and thus revolt against him, since obviously he must be the source of our problems. So, maybe that's where the "pass the buck" ideology came from first, the formation of the country. The other reason could be because we're such a litigous place. Everyone sues everyone, which probably only ends up screwing those of us who don't sue, since we have to pay higher insurance rates and read warning labels on everything. But, in all of that, there is very much the need and drive to find out what the cause of something is, so that you can blame it.       So, is that it? Do, we just not want to accept responsibility and accept inevitability in life? Maybe it is. I don't know for sure, since I need to stop writing because of my allergies...

I always thought that my father's wiring of light switches upside down and getting the hot and cold backwards on sinks and showers was just his "thing." Loathe am I to find that this is common practice throughout Croatia. Sinks quite often have the cold where the hot should be and hot where the cold should be and no, this is not some misinterpretation of their system. When you turn on the faucet marked cold, you get the hot.       Light switches, I think are a conceptual creation there, as they really seem to like them, a lot of them! I would see large banks of switches, sometimes six or more and it would see that only two of them actually did anything. Of course, the fact that some you flipped up to turn them on and some you flipped down didn't help.       I guess that it's nice to know that screwy home repair is something universal.

As much as most people don't want to discuss this subject, it needs to be talked about, because here in the US, we used to have bathroom toilets that did the job they needed to do. These days, we've got these lousy "low-flow" deals, which require two flushes to do their thing and are worse than the toilets in France.       Someone at some point in Croatia figured out what happens in there and came up with a solution to deal with it. Simply put, the shape and flow of water in a toilet in Croatia is more than adequate to do what it has to do. Some places (like the hotel I stayed in in Zagreb) eskew the entire tank situation and just had a faucet you turned on and off at your leisure to take care of things. That was by far the most impressive system, but perhaps a tad overkill.       Probably a silly thing to muse about, but it is a constant frustration wherever I am and it is nice to see that a country has finally gotten sensible about such matters.

It's funny how it seems that most Americans take on a conservative view of things, or at the very least, vote for Republicans, who in turn, enact a conservative system, wherein little needs are met, except for those that are self-serving. But, it's amazing that when asked, most people are in favor of social programs. Why they don't vote that way is beyond me.       It's a shame though, that the word "Socialism" has gotten such a bad wrap, since it usually gets tied in with being the same thing as Communism, which is isn't. Ever since the Cold War, the Red Scare, and all the other things that have painted the former USSR and thusly, Russia and Communist of Socialist practices as being a bad thing (which by the way, wasn't the reverse for the citizens of that nation) people run away screaming whenever you start saying any of those words.       But, after having returned just recently from a country that was formerly a Socialist state, I have to say that America is more of a Socialist state than anywhere else. This is not due to our political system in any way shape or form, but more to the view of the individual here, which is that the individual is very stupid and unable to take care of itself. It's funny, but it's true. If you look at how companies and governments in the US treat the citizens, you will always see that the large company or the large government thinks that it knows best and for some reason, we sit and take it.       For instance, as I walked along the promenade in Split, there were no guardrails along the edge of it. If you weren't watching what you were doing, you'd fall into the water. Such is not the case here, where "dangerous" waterways, overpasses, or other public spaces have been successfully cordoned off in the unlikely chance that one in ten million people might slip off the edge.       As another example, there's my shower. I like it, it gets me clean and it works fine, but the hot water on it has been artificially limited so that I can't burn myself. It blows my mind that letting me decide how much hot water I want to toss at myself has been forbidden because I might make it too hot.       Of course, over in Europe, there are steam heaters in rooms, exposed hot pipes, and not warnings on the damned things. People seemed to figure out a long time ago that these things were dangerous and don't touch them. Apparently, American can't figure that out and we must be warned. Of course, nobody reads the warnings and people still do dumb things.       Yes, people do dumb things, but if they're hell-bent on doing them, no matter how many safeguards you put in place, they will find a way around them and just having them will not save a company or entity from legal action, so maybe, just maybe could we back off a little bit on not clamp down on the citizenry here? Thanks...

For the money, it is the first class seat on the Bart system. Anyone who rides Bart knows what I'm talking about. It's the two seats that face each other, otherwise, known as a booth by some of my friends.       For me, it's the legroom. For others, I think its space in general. Of course, if you stretch out too far, you start to drift towards the middle of the seat and if you're not quite with it, it starts to feel like your brain has locked into the Bart controls and is somehow deciding the course and direction of the train. Not the best thing to feel as you go through the Transbay Tube as that will freak your ass out.       But, some people don't like the booth and choose the seats by themselves. Perhaps they like a more solitary ride, as most people will do whatever they can to avoid sharing a seat, even doing the dreaded reverse ride, wherein you are looking the reverse direction of how the train is going.       Crazy business, but such is the life when you spend nearly and hour and a half of your life in the blue and silver bullet.

Never would you think that a bus ride could be so beautiful, lulling, and yet so delayed. As twisted down the Croatian version of California Highway 1, we found all of the above to be the case and then some.       Naturally, after our ride from Zagreb to Split, we were a little cautious as to what bus line we picked. As it turns out they all cost the same and they are all about the same. The advantages of the free market don't really come into play for the buses, despite the fact that they are privately owned. And, as was the case with the former bus, we had to pay a little extra to store our luggage under the bus. Unlike the last bus though, this one was very much vacant. While it at first seemed a benefit, since we could stretch out, it soon showed that there was a downfall to this as well.       The initial part of the ride is lovely. It twists and turns along the side of the sea, showing you all the glimmering waters below. Occasionally, you will stop in a smaller town along the way to pick up more passengers or drop off some of the ones that are on board, but these are quick stops. There are old structures and new side-by-side, as elsewhere, but whatever their age, the homes, businesses, and old castle-like fortresses charge up from the sea into the steep mountains the plummet into the water.       Bus drivers for these lines have a tendency to drive a bit maniacally and I'm sure it gets worse as the tourist season moves into high gear. They will pass other cars on these narrow, steep roads. It is highly recommend that you sit on the side of the bus closest the mountainside if you're used to driving, or just don't feel as suicidal as the bus drivers.       After you finish shaking hands with the sea for a few hours, you come to the Bosnia Herzegovina border, because there is this very small strip of the country that interjects into Croatia to grab a little bit of the coast, right near Ston. It's not the biggest of deals, since they'll check your passport and let you on through to the 10-15 kilometers that the road runs through. You will however stop here, as funny as it may seem. Apparently, the drivers, like most people in the country have their little scam going and will pick up large piles of goods while in Bosnia Herzegovina because they get them at nearly 25% less than in Croatia due to the fact that there are no, or at the very least, less taxes here, which explains why they are a few markets in such an otherwise barren area. Plan on about a half hour delay as the bus drivers do their shopping and set it on the bus. Annoying, but you have little choice. You could probably pick up your own discounted goods there if you wanted. I'm sure that the temerity of the drivers was more than likely due to the fact that there were few of us on the bus at that point and they felt they could probably do as they pleased with little consequence.       Once you pass back into Croatia, which is even less of an issue than passing in BH, you will go a bit more inland, which even though it takes you from the shimmering ocean, it shuttles you along some of the most beautiful farmlands I have even seen in my life and I'm from a farmlands. There are these neat little rows of different crops growing next to each other. It's a far cry from the large quilt-like patches of homogenous crops that we see growing across the US. There is one particular valley that I never got the name of, but you snake around the edge of it for quite some time, getting to absorb all the wonder of it's flat, wide, Pollockesque crops.       Dubrovnik welcomes you to Dubrovnik quite a long time before you actually get into Dubrovnik, but you know for sure that you have arrived when you cross a bridge that is both an engineering feat as well as being abstract perfection as to what a bridge should look like.       From there on, it's a slow descent in Gruz and Lapad, where, if you were lucky like us, you have a wonderful friend waiting for you. If you're not as lucky, you'll probably be fortunate enough to find a room from one of the many, many, many people waiting with signs to take you into their home for a good price. Beware lacking hot water heaters... but that shouldn't be a probably if you're there in Summer as a true vacationer.

After getting our room in Split, we were introduced to our room owner's son, Juri. He first told us his name, but said it was okay if we called him "George or John, or something simple like that." Naturally, we were fine calling him by his given name. He was a funny guy. No doubt, based upon his age, he fought in the civil war, but the only sign that it had torn him up was that he had moved for some time to live in Paris.       This is the part of Juri that is the best, since he didn't like Paris and returned to his homeland, which he loved. Oh, how he loved his homeland.       Every city was beautiful.       "Zagreb is beautiful, a true cosmopolitan town. Much better than Paris." "Split... Split is beautiful. We have the Diocletian's Palace here and the water. What more could you want?" "Ah... Dubrovnik. There is nothing like it. You can travel the world and maybe you have, but you will not find anything such as that city." "Rijeka? Well, that's next o Opatija, which is beautiful and Volosko, which is heavenly. You can't ask for better towns on the Riviera."       Every island was magical.       "Hvar. Oh, how I love Hvar. The lavender in Spring is amazing. It will make you cry." "Korcula can simply not be measured. There are no words that can contain that town." You must visit this one. You must visit that one. You must see them all."       No matter what scrap or speck of Croatia you could talk about, it didn't matter, he loved ever part of it. It was he and he was it. Of course, this was really no help when trying to figure out what area to go to next, since apparently the entire country was a masterpiece of a painting wherein you could find no flaw or unfinished surface.       Of course, that isn't the case and some parts are better than others, as is the case with anywhere. If you stare at something long enough, or look at it from a different angle, you can find something you don't like. I don't doubt that Juri could find his flaws with his country and I don't doubt that he has problems with how it is run, but the beauty of his sincerity was the fact that he was in love with an evolving thing, which was changing and enveloping everyone around him into it. To Juri, Croatia wasn't just a place on the map, it was a country that had recently bled, giving birth to something new.       Luckily, we hadn't seen much of the country at that point, enabling us to agree with him on any point, simply out of blissful ignorance. And we weren't about to contradict Juri on anything he had said, since he was much, much bigger than us and his family was giving us a good price on the room.

As we were most unfortunately informed, upon our arrival to Zagreb, there is no direct train from Zagreb to Split right now. They are performing upgrade to the line that will drop is from an eight hour ride to a mere five, but that was little solace to us as we stood there, in the train station, not sure what to do. One of the very friendly Croats did help us by telling that we could either take the train to Knin and from there take a bus, or simply take the bus that would be going by Knin all the way from Zagreb to Split. Feeling like taking it a little easy, we went the bus route, which wasn't that expensive and also afforded the chance to see the scenery from a distance, without having to go to the large expense of renting a car.       The bus was easy to find and get on to, but it was a bit irritating to have paid for the ride and then having to pay a bit more to store our luggage underneath the bus.       Onwards we went, through rolling hills and green fields. We saw people farming in small plots and others lunching in their backyards. We saw the war damage in Karlovac.       It was an uneventful trip in general, until we reached a small cafe stop where everyone jumped off and grabbed some lunch. We had food with us and were "fortunate" enough to see one of the bus drivers (they drive in pairs) get off the bus and run with breakneck speed to the back of the engines. He then ran back around to the front of the bus. Apparently nothing ended up being the problem as he leisurely strolled out and got some food.       Back on to the bus we piled, filling all the seats and the bus slowly made its was through the rolling hills that gave way to steeper terrain and the beginnings of the jagged peaks that lead to the ocean.       As we started to make our way down from the mountains, the bus cabin started to smell of an odor akin to a burning clutch. The smell intensified as the bus suddenly veered from the road on a turn out. The engine choked and sobbed as it gave one puff and up from its innards a large puff of smoke came out of the engine compartment on our side of the bus. As I turned to look at it, the smoke quickly shook hands with a tremendous ball of flame that leaped up the side of the bus. The bus driver was quickly on the scene with a fire extinguisher that put out the flames, but did little to stop the smoke.       The people on the bus looked around like cows, until some of them got it into their heads to get off the rolling bomb that we were sitting on and had decided to arm itself.       Once a safe distance away, we stood and watched as they began ripping the bus and its engine apart. It was when they started pulling out the molten pieces of metal that I realized this vehicle was not moving soon.       Of course, our sideshow did not go unnoticed as the cars on the road went by on the narrow mountain road. Two got too close to on another and clipped their rear view mirrors, which in turn caused more traffic.       Finally, after an hour and a half, another bus cruised over the hill and pulled up along side of our shell of a carriage. Happily we all bordered the bus, only to find that they had sent a bus with five less seats than the one that we were on, which was full. So, of the next hour and a half a few people had to stand. Not the worst of things, since we had narrowly escaped a flaming demise!       We arrived in Split and were greeted by the owner of a room who took us in, which is another tale for another time.

Just got back from a trip through Croatia, which was magnificent except for the hassle I got over the pass I purchased in the US that was supposed to be for all the trains in the former Yugoslavian republics. First off, this is a pretty expensive pass, costing me about $200, since I am not a student and had to pay full price. But, as I was purchasing it, I was under the impression that I would be able to go through all of Slovenia and Croatia without having to pay for any of the trains. This did not turn out to be the case in the end.       The biggest problem with this pass is that even though it lists Croatia and Slovenia in the brochure that describes all of the European rail passes, they made one fatal flaw of not listing them on the booklet that accompanies the pass and which the pass is stapled to. Not a big deal right? Croatia and Slovenia were both Yugoslavian Republics right? They're both Balkan Republics right? Buzz! You're wrong!       Let's talk about the issue of the word Yugoslavia. If you are even to mention this word, the person you are talking to on the train, or in ticket window will get very, very upset. You see, to the people that once lived in this socialist system and lived through the civil war that happened after it, Yugoslavia has two meanings. The first is the name of a failed country that, for all they are concerned, does not exist and will not exist ever again. The unraveling of that former artificial state was such a painful experience that it seems they are trying to repress it more than anything else and I can't blame them. The second meaning of Yugoslavia is the association with Serbia, who was the worst offender in the civil war. Serbia was trying to and it seems still is trying to cling to the name Yugoslavia as they controlled most of the former republic's government and wanted to maintain control of the states, especially ones such Croatia, which are rich in tourist trade. So, to infer that Croatia or Slovenia are part (even in a past tense) of Serbia goes against everything that they fought and died for.       There is the other issue of the word "Balkan" which refers to an area that comprises former Yugoslavia on down to Greece and other areas. I don't know the exact background of the word, but for the most part people in these areas are okay with the word and whether they be Slav, Greek, or whatever else, they are also Balkan. This is, except for Slovenia, who it seems wants to distance themselves from the rest of the group as much as possible. The Slovenes simply refuse to accept the word and it's true that they are on the fringe, but they still are part of the area that ends at Italy, Austria, and Hungary, which we call the Balkans.       So, with all of these issues in place, it's amazing that the train conductors didn't tear up the pass once we showed it to them and it's pretty understandable why they didn't accept it. Toss in the fact that there is no train from Zagreb to Split or from Zagreb to Zadar right now due to upgrades to the line and you get a pretty worthless pass. Oh, there also isn't any train to Dubrovnik, period. The buses are a pretty affordable alternative, but have their issues too, which are the source of another writing...

I don't know what it is and I thought it was just a fluke one day, but it happens everyday now. As I take the Bart through the Oakland Hills Tunnel (don't know if there is a more appropriate name) which runs pretty much parallel to the Caldecott Tunnel, there is this one section, about halfway through at which point a massive smell of funk fills the train cabin. It's something akin to a sewer smell and it pretty enjoyable to say the least. I'd just like to know where it's coming from.       Thankfully, they seem to run the trains pretty fast through the tunnel and probably for good reason. But, perhaps a referendum needs to be formed, or a vote called, or something bureaucratic needs to be done, just to shake things up. Oh wait, here comes the bit again. Need to hold my breath... for... a short... time...