The site is only partially reconstructed, leaving something to the imagination. Thanks to the posted explanations, we were often a tad skeptical about the reconstruction's accuracy. Like what exactly do you mean, "this is the central courtyard as Mr. Evans envisioned ıt"?
The most famous attractions are the frescos.
Our first stop among the Greek islands was at a small town in western Crete called, depending on your preferred translation, Xania, Chania, Hania, or Hanya. Nevertheless, ıt's an extremely charming spot. 
For 6 euros (the Bruin card triumphs again), we had access to the major ruin sights for four days. The Acropolis (Parthenon, Temple of Athena Nike, Propylaea gates, Erechtheum), the Odeon, the Temple of Olympic Zeus, and the original Olympic stadium were the highlights.
The collections at the National Archeological Museum were the perfect compliment to the ruins themselves. A set of gold ceremonial cups was a favorite and made me excited to see the Minoan ruins in Crete where they were found.
I vaguely remember a story of my dad's from his time spent on a dig in the holy land - archeologists overseeing the site were only interested in artifacts from biblical times, practically discarding Roman and other eras' remains. I found myself taking a similar attitude - scoffing at the relatively indelicate pedestal of Agrippa in comparison to the Parthenon, and ditching the city's neoclassical monuments altogether. Like, better be born before Christ or I'm not interested:o)
I'm not going to be able to do the scene justice, but you have to imagine these guys swinging their non-bayonet-clad arms above their heads between jutting stomps. And in this get-up:
Apparently, the costume is that of the mountain forces that fought for Greece's independence. Kind of lightens the image usually evoked by the concept of guerrilla warfare, eh?
Also we happened upon this scene at the contemporary art museum. It was particularly satisfying to pose for this because earlier I had been scolded for posing for a picture next to a classical marble sculpture. Apparently you can pose with the ancient art only so long as you don't stand behind it. No such limitations when it comes to modern art though:
After our experience with hairstyles in Plovdiv and our guidebook's lukewarm recommendation of Sofia relative to Plovdiv, I went to Sofia with decidedly low expectations. Boy did Sofia deliver. First of all, we stayed in a bizarre room decorated with animal print, Tahitian wood carvings, and lots of mirrors, but equipped with satellite tv, and all for 40 leva a night!
Not everything was so thoroughly advanced. Aaron had read that the per-capita income in Bulgaria was 150 Euros per month, a staggeringly low sum and impossible seeming in the city center where residents wore designer clothes and drove luxury automobiles (we heard that the police drove confiscated Porches but we never saw them). On our way out of town we had a sobering realization when we saw the city's slums. Built within the city garbage dumps, and populated with large families, this housing made other most dire areas I've seen on Skid Row and in Cambodia and Peru seem relatively hospitable. 
Bulgaria is predominantly Greek Orthodox, which provided a change of pace, architecturally and culturally:
Finally, there was a significant language barrier. Bulgarians use a Cyrillic alphabet, they do not speak English, and they shake their heads from side to side when we would nod and vice versa. So we were lost a fair bit, but signs like these made up for it:
Chinese style Cyrillic - it never would have occurred to me!
I know the food was delicious and unbelievably cheap (5 leva, or about $2 for this assortment):
And I know the hair was fug.
No joke, I saw a woman with multi-colored extensions AND crimped bangs wearing white leather boots and leggings! You know Bulgaria tried to join the USSR and was turned away. I'm thinking I know why...
The small old town within Dubrovnik's massive white stone walls is graced with the dramatic contrast of blue ocean, steep green hills, and deep red terra cotta tiled roofs.
We stayed in an apartment on the old harbor, just opposite the old town. From there we could climb to the hill overlooking the city (where we're sitting in the first pic) to read and escape the crowds that came in for a few hours each morning from docking cruise ships.
Seriously, when a boat this size deposits its occupants on a city as small as Dubrovnik ... well it didn't take long for us to figure out the port-of-call itinerary and skedaddle out of the city center accordingly.
In the off season there's not much in the way of nightlife, so one night we tried going to a movie. There's only one theater in town, and that theater had a single showing each day of a film called Max Payne. Worst movie ever. No joke. Even now I'm a little furious about it. But it's worth bringing up because this was our first experience outside the ArcLight with assigned seating at a cinema. Of course being self-entitled, freedom-seeking Americans, we completely ignored our tickets and sat in the middle of what passes for a movie theater in Croatia, but would look more like a middle school auditorium to anyone from the States. Oh the mayhem. Good thing we don't speak a word of Croatian or we might have felt compelled to move :0)
I was hesitant to travel to Sarajevo, not just because the book warned of stray land mines, but because the only thing I really knew about Sarajevo was that it was perennially war-torn and that I wouldn't be comfortable journeying there just to see what that meant. There was certainly plenty of evidence of the three solid years of Serbian bombing sustained in the mid-90s to justify my initial misgivings, and I didn't take a single picture my first day in town. There are still bombed out buildings,
Sincere requests that you leave your automatic weapons at home when you enter a mosque,
And Muslim graveyards full of those killed between 1992 and 1995, throughout the city.
Sarajevo is famous for its sweets. We made multiple return trips to Eqipat for marzipan and baklava.
Another favorite sight was the men who played a giant game of chess in the main square. It appears they play all day, every day, and those not actually in the match are consumed with commentary and guidance.
Equally amusing was this cafe:
In the end Sarajevo was interesting, cheap, yummy, and beautiful. We'll be searching for burek and cevapci stateside.
