Monday, March 14th. Flights were fine, though airport layovers were agony. Due to my injured foot, fate promised that I’d have to walk miles between gates. But I arrived home without incident.

The trip was great from many perspectives, sad on others. (Frustratingly, the “homeless person” provided a constant stream of irritation. But enough of that.) The wars of the 90s are still an ever-present stain on the region’s history, and I frankly don’t believe that the book is closed on their causes and effects. Although it wasn’t spoken of much, it was clear that the events unfolding in Ukraine was bringing out uncomfortable memories and fears.

But on the great side, the people were fun, friendly and surprisingly smart. That last discriptive is not meant to be condescending. Perhaps their need to adapt to so many languages and dialects has made them quicker to understand. I found it unnecessary to better explain my often obtuse questions, and the answers were often far more complete than I expected. Indeed, a common habit from tour guides was to first put my simple questions into an historical context, then provide an answer. I found this extraordinary.

The entire tour contained so much of local history, customs, and flavor, I hesitate to say I intend to return. But wait! In another month I’ll visit two of the destinations again on an ocean cruise! Can’t wait.