Why Osijek, Croatia is still scarred with bullet holes

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When Yugoslavia broke apart in 1990 into several countries it was a violent and messy war. One of the countries that arose from it is Croatia, and today Masayo and I saw some of the leftover damage hidden on some back streets in the town of Osijek, where we arrived yesterday and the nearby Tvrđa area. It was strange to be in such a pleasant and friendly town and see such recent evidence of gunfire and heartache. I struggled with my blood sugars all day, too; there were bright spots but way too many unexplained highs.

My first reading in the morning was 139, very nice after the terrible highs of yesterday. Masayo and I went downstairs at our guesthouse, Sobe Lišnić to check out the breakfast buffet. It was all set out, but apparently only for us – I certainly hadn’t seen any evidence whatsoever that anyone else was staying there last night.

Besides plenty of yogurt, bread, cereal, chocolate bars, milk, juice, and condiments laid out on a table for us, the guy from the guesthouse brought us some eggs and bacon he’d fried – putting the entire sizzling pan on the table between us. Excellent big breakfast and very personalized service!

I took my Humalog shot through my Bluff Works pants and we ate as much as we could. Masayo fashioned some sandwiches from the leftovers for our lunch – again we take unfair advantage of the breakfast buffet.

Always ask for forgiveness, not permission.

Around lunch time we headed out to explore Osijek some more. Today was December 27 and despite the holiday season several shops were open, unlike yesterday. We bought some water and chips to boost our impending picnic, then walked along the Drava River that runs through Osijek. As yesterday, it was a sunny and cold day – warm in the sun, chilly in the shadows. There was a statue of Pablo Picasso, shirtless and watching the river meander by. Maybe he spent time in Osiijek?

Old Town fort of Tvrđa

Our main destination was the area called Tvrđa (pronounced roughly like “ta VUR ja”), the old part of Osijek which had been a fort and is now a curious and fascinating tourist destination. Especially today, when nobody else was around and we could walk the cold streets alone.

It was in Tvrđa that you can see bullet holes on many of the buildings; cultural and historical importance is not always a deterrent when someone is pointing their weapons during a conflict. Very odd to be standing here on such a sunny and nice day, with fresh wounds in the walls around us. Those wars you see on TV are real, happening in actual places to actual people.

We found ourselves in front of the striking yellow St. Michael’s Church, with twin spires each with its own clock. It looked monumental against the bold blue solid sky behind it. The church was in fact built on the remains of a mosque. I took the photogenic opportunity for a blood sugar selfie; the reading was 191. Not great, but after a large breakfast like that I’d take it.

Then it was lunch time. Masayo and I found a sunny little plaza with benches around it, plus a fountain in the middle (turned off for the winter). This was an easy Humalog dose to calculate, since most of the lunch came in packages with nutrition info on them. Even with language differences I’ve usually found it easy to figure out which was the “carbohydrates” listing in these, no matter where I’ve been in the world.

After looking around Tvrđa some more, gawking at the ornate but worn buildings, climbing up embankments beside the Drava River, and surprising sleeping cats in open windows, we walked lazily back to Osijek proper. I saw one building with a large chunk missing from its corner, its jagged edges suggesting that it had been shelled back in the day. But the owners, rather than repairing it, had painted it a big bold color. Making something beautiful out of destruction: that speaks to Osijek’s irrepressible creative instincts.

A shameful dinner in Osijek

Unfortunately, back in the room at 5:00 pm I found that my BG had mysteriously risen, to 265. Quite a bit higher than I would have expected. And I was so proud of my picnic shot, too. Oh well; I took some Humalog to get it down and also some extra so I could eat a little cereal as a snack.

This time it worked: three hours later I was 128 and it was time for dinner. And I’m not proud of the choice we made.

The only places we could find open were Strossmayer Bishof, where we had eaten yesterday and which Masayo didn’t want to go to again; a pizza place that I wasn’t in the mood for; and the McDonald’s we bought chocolate milk from yesterday. I’m proud of the fact that we haven’t been to any American chain stores on this whole trip – no McDonald’s, no Starbucks, nothing.

But we finally broke the streak today – McDonald’s it was.

I got a fried chicken sandwich and orange juice. And no fries; those things are out and out poison whether you’re diabetic or not. McDonald’s was full of people so we got ours to go and ate in the room, while watching a movie on my laptop called March of the Penguins.

A McDonald’s chicken sandwich and orange juice; shouldn’t be too hard to dose up some Humalog for, right? Well I somehow did very poorly: at 11:00 pm I was 244.

I’ve got to do something about these frequent highs. But they’re always such a surprise, I’m not sure what else I can do.

After dinner we considered our plans for tomorrow. The trip is trending ever southward and I’m afraid that we might be nearing our final chance to see snow. When you take an extensive trip to Europe in the winter you expect – nay, deserve! – to see snow.

So when we noticed that the weather forecast was predicting several inches of snow in the hilly bulge of north-central Croatia, we decided to look for a bus up to a town called Varaždin. Maybe we can spend late December in our own hard-won winter wonderland.

If the buses work out for us.

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