Monday, 26 September, Ilok, Vukovar, and Osijek, Croatia, with wine tasting and surprise home visit

Written 6 November 2022

We arrived in Croatia at breakfast time. The ship moored at Ilok, the easternmost Croatian town. I didn't realize until I studied a map later that it's so far east that it protrudes into Serbia, which surrounds it on three and a half sides. Only a narrow strip along the Danube connects it to the rest of Croatia. It was annexed by Serbia during the 1990's war but was peacefully returned to Croatia in 1998.

As we passed through the lobby on the way to join our 8:30 am excursion (group 31D this time), I paused to get this picture of the picture of our ship's godmother, posted near the reception desk. Every Viking ship has a godmother—the person (always a woman, I think) chosen to break the bottle over its prow when it is launched—a photo is always posted at reception. This one, Kornelia Pfeiffenberger, is head of the housekeeping department on some other Viking ship. (The head of housekeeping on our Russian cruise was also a godmother, but again not of the ship we were on.)

Here at the right is the Vidar, viewed from the shore at Ilok. That black pipe between the shore and the black barge (which serves as a mooring point) was not the gangway! At the righthand edge of the photo, you can see just a little of the blue railing of the gangway we crossed.

As we left the port, I spotted the first slate roofs we've seen—it's been all tile (and artificial tile) up to now—and nearby I spotted the first artificial slate—some sort of plastic, or maybe painted metal, molded to imitate the rounded "beaver-tail" shapes of overlapping slates.

By the time we were out of sight, the Vidar had cast off and continued along the Danube.

We had only a short bus ride into town, along an arrow-strait road lined with quite young trees. I wonder whether the road and the mooring place were just recently built to accommodate cruise ships. If so, they should have planted the trees farther apart, to allow for widening the road.

Our driver was Anton and our guide was Inge. She admitted it was a Swedish name, but assured us that she is Croatian and lives in a village that sounded like "bosi"; I consulted a map later and think it's probably Bokšić.)

On the way, we got a distant view of St. John of Capistrano, the local (Roman Catholic) church. No mention was made of swallows. The town also has a Serbian Orthodox church, a Lutheran church, and a Catholic monastary. Once the bus dropped us off, we walked past the gates of the winery we would tour later to the Municipal Museum of Ilok, housed in the Castle Odescalchi. The estate was given to Pope Innocent XI and his family (the Odescalchis) for their help in evicting the Turks from Ilok in the 15th century. The pope's nephews set themselves up there, rebuilt the main house in Baroque-Classicist style and starting making wine by methods very modern for the time. The family lost the estate in 1945 when Yugoslavia was formed and everything was nationalized. They didn't get it back when the communist era ended (they got compensation instead), but some of them still live in Italy and make wine there.

The Odescalchis' summer palace was out in the vineyards is now a hotel. Those vineyards are the source of the ice wine and late harvest

I didn't get a good overall shot of the building, but at the left are its imposing brick doors. On either side of them are two huge wings of the yellow-and-white style you can see part of at the right. The whole things faces and overlooks the Danube. Part of the approach was paved in the end-cut wood blocks you can see at the right. Behind me as I took the photo of the doors, the terrace was being excavated and repaired, and I hope they plan to replace the frayed area of the wooden paving.

One reason for the excavations was that the courtyard was a Roman cemetery. The Romans came to this area in the first and second centuries AD. Wine production in this area started with the Roman emperor Probus. It continued even in the 16th century.

While we stood on the terrace, I once again heard the titu-titu bird! I hear it a lot in Europe, but I've never managed to identify it. I did see a coat tit nearby though, so when we got home, I looked it up, found a website that will play the bird song of your choice, and sure enough, that was it! The mysterious titu-titu bird is the coat tit, Priparus ater! It looks a lot like our chickadee. Another member of the group recommended an app called "Merlin" that recognizes bird songs in the field. I've looked that up, too—it's free and it's produced by the Cornell Ornithology Lab (a sure mark of quality), so I'll have to get myself a copy.

Also on the terrace (you can see a little of it in the photo of the doors) was this glass covering installed over what had been a 555-m Roman well. You couldn't see much, since it's glassed over and exposed to full sunlight, forming a perfect little greenhouse. The vegetation under the glass had flourished and taken over.

Farther along the road we walked on, beyond the estate's lawns and the segment of estate wall covered with reconstruction scaffolding, is the steep of St. John of Capistrano.

The museum's exhibits started with the end of the last ice age and worked forward to the present. Here at the left is an early one showing some of the prehistoric megafauna that lived in this area. They're particularly proud of their woolly mammoths. The tooth of a wooly mammoth can weigh 23 kg, and the mammoth itself stood 4 m tall, and was covered with hair.

Although the town has only about 5000 inhabitants, Inge told us that the museum is one of the best in Croatia (and that the winery we would visit later was also one of the best and one of the largest).

At the right is a wonderful map illustrating the many major human migrations that took place in Europe between the 4th and 11th centuries. Who knew that the Burgundians started so far north or that the Vandals approach Italy from North Africa?!

At the left here is a 3D relief map of the original walled estate, with the castle at the far end and the church at the near end.

Exhibits nearer to the present included a kitchen from our grandparents' time and this vintage cookbook.

Unfortunately, someone had the bright idea of color-coding the exhibits by era by illuminating them with different-colored light. The greenish they used for prehistory and the yellow for this relatively modern saddle were okay, but the red they used for the Roman era was really hard on the eyes. It makes the text in the photo at the right almost unreadable, even when the photo is blown up very large.

From the museum, we walked back the way we had come to tour the Iločki Podrum winery. We entered through this gate, which we'd walked by earlier, to enter the lovely couryard shown at the right.

Far in the back, you can see outdoor tables and chairs. The restablishment includes a restaurant as well as rental cottages (beyond the tables), so you can come spend your vacation there if you want.

We started by turning to the right to tour the cellars, then after emerging from they, crossed the courtyard to the tasting room and shop, to the left in this photo.

This winery was active from the 15th century to the arrival of the Ottomans, then again in the 18th century after the Ottomans left. St. John of Capistrano helped the Croatians fight the Turks and Ottomans; he's now the local patron saint.

The photo at the left is pretty blurry, but it gives you an idea of the size of the space and of the barrels. Some of the barrels can last 100 years. The barrels in this room are of mixed age; usually,the lighter the color of the barrel, the newer it is. The tunnel was originally Roman. The one at the right shows a barrel that holds 5200 liters!This first cellar is 100 m long. We're seeing only a small portion of the operation; the labs are located at a different site.

This region is known mainly for white wines. They also produce ice wine, though that's getting harder because global warming makes hard freezes shorter and less frequent. The grapes have to be frozen at minus 7C for at lest three days, and that doesn't happen very often any more. They also produce a trochenbeerenauslese—it's 30 euros a bottle, but but the ice wine, sold in a very skinny bottle, is more.

The reds they produce are cabernet sauvignon and cabernet franc and are named after Murano and Capistrano.

A good ways back in the tunnel, the guide paused and told us we were back to the Odescalchi estate, but 12 m underground. We had not descended since entering—the difference in elevation was just a result of the local topography. The doors through which we entered are apparently quite recent. The cellar used to be reached from the estate by a stairway set into a deep alcove in the cellar wall. During some war or other (I'm really sorry, but I can't keep them straight), the cellarmaster moved all the most valuable bottles into the alcove and onto the stairs, then bricked the whole thing up, so those bottles were saved. The oldest and most valuable bottles are still stored there. The oldest are from 1947.

Much of their wine is aged in barriques, small barrels that are, by definition, charred inside, and the wines pick up the flavor.

They export to the Czech Republic, Hungary, and Japan, but not to the U.S. Some cruise passengers who have tasted there have suggested they move into the American market, but to be profitable they would have to set their prices too high.

After the cellar tour, we cross the courtyard to the restaurant/tasting room, where each place at our long table was set with a paper placemat and five glasses. The winery's tasting person pour each of us five of their wines, in turn, explaining each as she went. Behind the glasses is a plate of Gouda cubes for nibbling. I nibbled, and I even tasted a little, but as usual, the only one I found even vaguely palatable was the sweetest, so instead I availed myself of the pitchers of water on the table. The handsom tables and chairs are table and chairs are Slavonian oak.

At the right is a photo of the five bottles we were served. The first, the one on the left, is Graševina, a sort of Italian riesling, their most popular wine. It's from 2021, is quite dry, and is 13% alcohol.

Written 10 November 2022

Traminac, the middle one, also white, is their most awarded. It's made from Traminer (not sure if that's the same as Gewurztraminer or just closely related) and is also 13% but tastes softer. The winergy and town hold a Traminer festival annually, with tastings of Traminers from different regions. The winery's cat is even named "Traminer." One of their wines—I guess it must be this one, if it's their most awarded, has been judged 19th best wine of the world at some event in New York.

The fourth wine was a ros$eacute; called Frankovka, made from Cabernet Franc. It supposedly tastes of strawberries, and they usually serve it with cake. The final wine was a 2020 red, named for St. John of Capistrano, and is a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc. It's very tannic and is served with rich dishes like game stew.

Then it was back into the bus to chase down the Vidar, on its way to Vukovar. During the scenic drive, the guide held up this newspaper clipping of of "Mike Grgich and the mystery of Zinfandel." The name meant nothing to me, but it was apparently quite familiar to David and the other wine afficionados in the crowd. He's in California now, but he came from Ilok.

During the scenic drive, we passed through an area known as "Mammoth Valley" because so many woolly mammoth remains have been found there. In the village of Mohovo, this life-size straw mammoth is a well-known tourist attraction.

Things the guide told us in the bus:

• The last Croatian king died in the 12th century.
• In January 2023, Croatia will start using euros, so everything is currently priced in both kuna and euros, that people can get used to it. But everyone is sure prices will go up when the switch-over happens. (And, our guide in Osijek remarked later in the day, the euro crashed yesterday, "so we may be in a recession.")
• The exchange rate is currently about 8 kuna to a dollar.
• Croatia is about 90% croat, largely Roman catholics; 10% slovacks are the principal minority; less than 5% identify as Orthodox. Jewish community is maybe 1% of Croatia
• Mohacs in Hungary was the site of one of the largest battles with the Ottomans.
• The Ottomans were here for over 150 years, 1588–1656. Everything changed for Croatia and Hungary during that time. The guide pointed out the remains of a Turkish hammam and those of of Turkish mausoleum.
• The Austrian Hapsburgs came to the rescue, driving out the Ottomans on the condition that Croatia then be ruled by them. Croatia there became part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, until the formation of the kingdom of Yugoslavia in 1918. The guide said that Carl Georgevich, of the Serbian dynasty, was the first king, but Wikipedia lists somebody else.
• After WWII, in 1945, Yugoslavia became communist, under Tito.
• In 1991, Croatia became independent, after 90% of the population voted to leave Yugoslavia.
• Across the river is Bačka Palanka, which is in Serbia.
• Serbia and Croatia were at war from 1991 through 1998. According to the guide, invading Serbian troops simply marched across the bridge at Ilok without warning, sent by Milošsović. Croats were ordered to leave; they were given half an hour to pack. Those who refused were shot.
• Vukovar, further up the river, fought back and was bombed three times a day for three months. When it was finally occupied, it was flat. When the town fell, all the people inside the hospital (the last hold-outs), right in front of journalists, wth a red cross on top, were loaded onto buses, taken to a cornfield and shot. That incident drew the attention of the world and led to financial and military support.
• She also says that Serbia supports the Russian invasion of Ukraine and that Serbia will therefore get cheaper gas than the rest of Europe.
• Living standards are higher in Croatia than in Serbia.
• Croatia is in the EU, and Serbia isn't.
• Ilok is in an agricultural area with very fertile land.
• Croatia has Adriatic ports, and Serbia doesn't.
• This area was still in Serbian hands for three more years. In 1998, Milošsović agreed to negotiate. and this area returned to Croatia. It was a Pyrrhic victory, but they got their whole territory back.
• The Croatian population is about 3.8 million; that of Zagreb is about 1 million.
• Croatia is in the shape of a long-tailed dragon with one spread wing. Ilok is in the extreme eastern tip of the wing. That part of the country is called Slavonia. The tail extends along the shore of the Adriatic Sea. This part of the country is agricultural. White wines are produced here, red wines in the tail, where the climate is Mediterranean.
• Osijek is fourth biggest town in the country.
• Split, in Dalmatia, is the second biggest.
• Dubrovnic is small but very popular; lots of cruise ships visit.
• Rijeka is the biggest town, near Trieste, Italy.
• Croatia produces its own cruise ships and exports them.
• A thousand islands lie off the Croatian coast.
• The final nail in the coffin of Yugoslavia was the split between Serbia and Montenegro.
• In the area through which we drove, I spotted apple orchards, oil-seed rape, sugar beets, many areas of alternating strips of maize and grape vines, and one field of volunteer sunflowers, probably left over from the previous season. Apparently a new product, just gaining popularity, is pumpkin-seed oil—a flavorful table oil for use on salads.

Written 13 November 2022

As we entered Vukovar, I got this shot of its famous water tower. In the course of the three-month seige of the city, it withstood all attempts to topple it. It has over 200 holes in it and is being preserved in that state as a war memorial.

At the right is a mural depicting a widow (a real person) mourning her sons (four, I think), all of whom died in the 1990's war.

At the left here is a bullet-riddled building awaiting reconstruction, which we passed as we approached the Vidar to reboard for lunch.

And in stark and startling contrast, here's the lovely little appetizer veggie salad in the dining room, garnished with a quarter of a hard-cooked egg and a pea shoot.

My first course was beef consommé with tomatoes, beans, and chives. Good, but pretty insubstantial.

My second course was Conchiglie alla Boscaiola, shell pasta with mushrooms, tomatoes, green peas, and cream. Again good, but the chef was pretty stingy with the sauce. I don't remember what David had—maybe the smoked salmon quesadilla.

For dessert, David had the "semolina flan with apple, mango & chili chutney" (left).

I threw caution to the winds and ordered the ice coffee float with coffee ice cream. Yummy, and I didn't suffer noticeable effects from the unaccustomed caffeine.

Then it was back into the buses for our afternoon excursion. We drove back through Vukovar as we left the ship, while I picked flying ants off my clothes—I must ahve walked through a cloud of them as we walked to the bus.

Our guide was from Vukovar. When he was 3, he and his family moved to Germany, where they spent six years before coming back to Croatia. He said it was a beautiful city before it was bombed to smithereens.

• "The Serbian people they have their church"; I think it was the one we passed that had an octagonal onion dome.
• Just after the Ottomans left, Germans built a lot here, but they lost everything when it was nationalized after WWII; their property was given to Serbs and Croats.
• Vukovar's hospital is now the best in the region because it's brand new, built after the occupation ended in 1998.
• Vukovar is Croatia's largest river port, and the port facilities were the first thing restored after the war. Siemens contributed four cranes to help with that effort.
• School children received charity "shoeboxes" from England until 2003. They contained school supplies as well as toys and treats. Our guide says "thanks especially for the skittles!"
• Vukovar was the 2nd weathiest town in Yugoslavia. It had no unemployment, because agriculture took up any slack left by industry. It produced textiles and particularly shoe. The shoe factories employed 3000 people in a town of 45,000.
• Today, the town is 62% Croatian, 30% Serbian, and the rest are of 23 nationalities.
• Under the soviets, you got 70% of your salary as pension; now it's 40%.

Written 14 November 2022

Our next stop was Osijek. We visited a baroque church, which I thing was Church of the Holy Name of the Mother of God, though I haven't been able to confirm that. One of its blue-and-white spires is shown here at the left, and the right-hand photo is a rather blurry view of the interior.

It was built just after the Ottomans left, after the Hapsburgs took over in 1861, but I think it wasn't finished until 1775. Again, my notes are a little sketchy. The marble floors are real, bit all the columns and "marble" walls are wood, painted to look like marble. The stained glass is all new, because it was all blown out in the recent wars.

While we were there, we were treated to a concert by a local soprano named Martina, a graduate of a local college of music who now teaches there. After several classical pieces, it included an Ave Maria in a version I didn't know, as well as Amazing Grace in a foreign language (presumably Croatian), then in English, and concluded with a short hymn in English, a capella.

At the left here is that ubiquitous sight in this part of the world, a building riddled with bullet holes, awaiting restoration.

At the right is a large sign that says "Amazon of Europe." I took it to indicate the local headquarters of a mail-order company, but the guide explained that it's the trailhead for a network of biking and hiking paths. They apparently wind through a marshy area with many streams that makes it reminiscent of the Amazon River.

These marshes harbor 290 species of birds, 62 active nests of the white-tailed eagle, 44 freshwater fishes, and 53 kinds of mosquito. The city is not allowed to spray for mosquitoes, because it's too near the marsh nature reserve.

The city has 28 stations for rental of electric bikes, financed by the EU. For 30 euros/year, you get unlimited use of the bikes docked there. They have to be brought back to recharge every 30 minutes, but you can immediately take another. The city includes many kilometers of mraked bake roads and is very flat. The Eurovelo 6 train, which cuts through the city, connects the Baltic and Black seas.

Things the guide told us as he showed us around.

• Osijek is down from 50 industries to just 5.
• It is 79% Roman Catholic, 5% orthodox, and smaller percentages of other religions.
• A small wedding is about 300 guests; medium, 300&Ndash;500; above that, it's considered large. But weddings have been shortened from 5 to 3 days for financial reasons. They sound similar to Serbian weddings. Everybody shows up at the bride or the groom's for games. The best man has to buy the bride, etc. The service is at 6 pm, and presents are opened publicly at 9 pm (the better to shame those who didn't give enough).
• Education starts with 8 years of primary school, followed by 3 years for trade school or 4 years for high school. The first foreign language (usually English) starts in first grade. Students can also start a second foreign language then, but most wait until 4th grade, when a second one (usually German, but sometimes French or Italian) is manditory.
• Kids pick up English from the media before they even get to first grade.
• In plague times, the city trapped and imported a bunch of pine martins to catch the rats, and that killed off the plague.
• In the summer, people swim in the Drava river, or the can go across the river to what was originally the outpost of the fortress. It's where a complex with four swimming pools, called the Copa Cabana, that can accommodate a thousand people.
• Freedom of the press in Croatia is not really real. Croatia got the green light to change to the euro one day after agreeing that Hungary could use pipelines through Croatia to get petrochemicals, but the press denied any connection.
• Historically, one quarter of the city spoke, Esseker Deutsch, a language that was a combination of Serbian, Hungarian, Croatian, German, and Hebrew. After the Ottomans left, the fortress was manned by German speakers, by soldiers from far-flung areas of the Austrian empire, and by craftspeople from all over. The language has died out here, but is still spoken in Manaus, Brazil, because so many speakers immigrated there.
• Before WWII, about 1700 jews lived in Osijek. now it's less than 100. They hold religious services in their houses.
• Branko Lustig, who made The Gladiator and Schindler's list is from Osijek, He's the only Croatian with two oscars.
• Osijek has 17 city parks but no park culture, because of the mosquitos.
• A wide street that the guide pointed out is called European Avenue; it's the only avenue in Osijek.
• From the bus, the guide pointed out a wonder monument that I wasn't quick enough to get a photo of. It's from the 1991 war and shows a little red car running over a tank. If you just Google "monuments in Osijek," you can get a good image.
• Commuist-era apartments are popular and in high demand now because they're cheaper than others; they're called "Tito Rennaissance."
• In Yugoslavia, there were 2.5 workers per retiree; in Croatia, it's one to one.
• The average salary is 600–700 euros; an apartment costs 400. People stay with their parents until they have kids, then the grandparents become babysitters. A salary of 800–1000 is a good one; you can live pretty well.
• Education is free.
• Tax is 42%; income is 15%, the rest is social.
• About 15% of Osijek's population ahs left in the last 15 years. About 20% of Croatia as a whole. Brain drain is a real problem. Our guide used to teach German for adults for people thinking of leaving.
• Other parts of Croatia are a little more prosperous; this area is not.
• Connectivity is great. The government has run fiberoptic internet to small villages in this area, hoping to encourage the IT sector.
• In 2016, King Charles III of England (then Charles, Prince of Wales) visited Osijek, because of family connections. Our guide told us that Mary of Teck (wife of King George V, grandmother of Elizabeth II, greatgrandmother of Charles) was born in Osijek. When I checked Wikipedia, though, to be sure I had Mary's position in the family correct, I found that she was born in Kenington Palace in London. Her father, Francis of Teck, was born in Osijek though. The winery people in Ilok proudly told us that they sent a case of wine for Queen Elizabeth's coronation, then one for Charles and Diana's wedding, and another for Harry's. I thought that odd at the time, but it makes more sense given the information about Mary of Teck. I think the guide said that the wine they sent was valued at 100 euros a bottle.

The main destination of our walk was the old fortress of Osijek. It's not all that old, as these things go, having been built in 1722, after the Ottomans left, but (our guide assured us) it would now be a UNESCO World Heritage site if the city had not dismantled most of it in the 19th century to build tramways ("It would be as famous as Dubrovic"). Now they're in the long and expensive process of restoring its very thick walls. The photos here are of the small remaining sections of the ramparts and the dry moat.

The city has 97 thousand inhabitants, plus 19 thousand university students at 21 different faculties. The guide pointed out, among others, the faculties of architecture, agriculture, dentistry, medicine, pedagogy, and music (where Martina now teaches). The faculty of medicine even includes a group of Germans studying medicine in German.

The bronze relief shown here at the left gives an idea of the shape and size of the fortress when it was intact, and the plague pillar shown at the right is the largest baroque monument in all of Croatia.

The long white building with striped canopies in front of it was once the fortress bakery but is now an all-purpose building for student organizations. The yellow building behond it is a classical high-shcool that has produced Nobel prize winners, including the author of The Bridge Across the Drina.

The building labeled "Kohorta" is headquarters of the local soccer fan club.

The yellow building here with the four flags over the door (right to left: city, country, EU, and county) is the town hall.

The little white one with two windows and a tall arched doorway was originally a house but is now a bar. It was built in the time of the window tax, when houses got narrower and narrower (and concommitently deeper) to minimize the number of windows. Authorities then switched to a chimney tax, and to avoid that, chimneys were eliminated and smoke allowed to escape through little round hooded "eyelets" in the roof. And once attics were filled with smoke as a result, folks started smoking sausages uip there. A local smoked pork sausage is on the UNESCO world heritage list.

This particular bar is famous, though, for its capacity. Despite being so narrow, it can accommodate 100 people on the ground floor and 200 more in the cellar below!

Back in the day, though, when the fortress was actively garrisoned, a nearby cluster of three streets boasted 25 bars and 9 brothels. Prostitution was not legal, but the city collected so much money in fines from the Germans soldiers visiting the night life that they could buy street lights.

Written 15 November 2022

Then back into the buses. On the road, the guide told us about a guy he actually went to high-school with who, even then, was experimenting with electric cars. His name is Mate Rimac (pronounced "ree-mahtz"), and he got the world's attention by breaking the world speed record for sportcars in an electric car of his own design. I didn't catch the name of the car, but it means "sudden electrical storm." He builds hand-made electric cars that sell for a bundle and has made a bundle doing it. He could have set up anywhere in the world, but he has chosen to keep his company (which has grown from 3 to 800 people) headquartered in Croatia. He's 34 now, and last year he bought Bugatti. He charges a million euros for a car, and 99 will be produced this year. Just Google "rimac croatia" to find out more about him and his company

Rather to our surprise, the bus dropped us off at a private house in a small village, where our guide turned us over to an even more local guide for our home visit. I was surprised, because I distinctly remembered signing up for the option that did not include a home visit. But what the heck . . .

At the left is about 1/3 of the array of decorative items gracing the house's front steps: bunnies of several sizes, geese being ridden by elves, decorative plants, etc. Inside, we were seated around a long dining-room table and served home-made pastries: apple cake and pumpkin struden.

They were accompanied by a ferocious home-made plum brandy (shown at the left) and a much milder cherry cordial (at the right). I much preferred the latter, although I mostly drank the third choice—elderflower water. It looked like lemonade and had a mild, agreeable floral flavor. we were taught the usual local toast, živjeli;, which means bless you.

While we munched and sipped the guide told us about our hostess, a widow who lives alone in this house but has grown children living nearby, and we had the chance to ask questions.

The house was heavily damaged during the war in the 1990's but has since been restored. The government paid for restoration of the walls and roof, but the interior and exterior decor were the family's responsibility.

The highlight of the visit, though, was the amazing garden out back!

The garden is just a little wider than the house (allowing a narrow alley on one side) but extends for probably a hundred yards behind it. The section nearest the house is decorative. At the left here, you can see the covered seating area, which shelters a table and four chairs.

At the right is a better view of the magnificent staghorn sumac, in full fruit that's across the path from the seating.

The photo at the left may be too small to show them, but the vines on that trellis are loaded with bunches of purple grapes. The yellow flowers in front of them are Jerusalem artichokes (aka sunchokes), a root vegetable.

At the right is a view down the fruit orchard. I saw trees for apples, pears, plums, cherries, walnuts, maybe a quince (she not only makes her own fruit brandies and cordials, she grows the fruit to make them).

A large fig tree, up against a brick wall that must retain heat, still had green figs on it.

In the distance, toward the back of the property, were rows of cabbages, cauliflower, pumpkin vines, and a stack of dried-up corn stalks. I didn't venture closer, as it had been raining and the ground was wet. I don't know whether the fields and trees beyond the pumpkins were part of this property or not.

Closer in were a strawberry bed and raspberry vines.

Under this plastic half-cylinder greenhouse were chrysanthemums (in the foreground) and tomato vines (behind them).

Back nearer the house was this tall smokehouse. The family used to keep livestock, but since her husband died, she can't manage that and the garden, too.

Near the smokehouse was this set of stalls, now disused, which originally housed the animals.

And on the back porch two large crates of walnuts, waiting to be shelled.

On the way out of town, the guide pointed out a tall, multibulbed onion dome, which is that of a protestant church. This village has strong Hungarian roots, and Hungarians here are protestants.

Back on the ship, it was already time for the briefing and port talk for the next day's stops. Unfortunately, right in the middle of it, the ship suffered a total power failure. Fortunately, the outage was brief, and Marek was able to finish quickly enough that we weren't late for dinner.

The bread of the evening (left) was studded with black olives.

I started with carpaccio of beef tenderloin, then had the roast pork with potatoes, savoy cabbage, and avjar (roasted red pepper) sauce. I think David had the same thing.

For dessert, David had the Croatian caramel custard, which I didn't get a photo of. I had the Croatian cherry cake, which, apart from the sauce it sat on, didn't seem to have much to do with cherries.

The entertainment for the evening was to be a round of "And the top answer is . . . ." The host asks a question like "What should you absolutely not bring on your honeymoon?" or "What's a musical instrument you can't take on a plane?" Teams then try to guess what the most frequent answer is. I've played that before, so I decided to skip it and just listen in on the lounge cam.

Surprisingly, although I could see the slides as each answer was revealed (e.g., your mother in law, a piano), I got no sound. And much to my frustration, that was the case for the rest of the cruise. Whatever caused the power failure during the port talk blew out the circuits that supplied sound with the lounge cam video. The crew aboard couldn't fix it, so they had to rely on outside repairmen to work on the problem whenever they were in port long enough for someone to come aboard to work on it. It never got fixed, so for the rest of the cruise, we got no sound with the lounge cam.