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Sebastian Scholl

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Sebastian Scholl

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0A9A9921Rarely do I ever regret opting for an early morning over a late night.  There is something about those early hours of the day that are much more rewarding to be conscious during than any others.  I’m able to slow my entire day down and allow more time for both the things I must do and want to do.  Unlike the days I race through after hurriedly waking to clock that reads 1:30pm.

It was Micky whose interest had been caught after Google searching things to do in Bosnia.  She didn’t find an advertisement, but more so an online suggestion – as if a friend had visited Bosnia before us and let us in on a little secret.  And that secret was the Kravice waterfalls.

0A9A0129 The same way I imagine an equestrian feels in the company of his or her horse I feel amongst waterfalls.  The sound, smell, feeling, and sight of them both calms and excites me.  Neither am I thinking about what I have done or have to do, just where I am.  It’s meditative.  And due to the fact that most of the developmental periods in my life were spent dreaming about waterfalls, when around them I’m reminded of how I became the person I am today.


It is on days like the one I’m soon to describe that I question whether or not there is a Supreme Being; one that, at key moments, both rewards and penalizes me appropriately for my actions. I say this because some things seem too random to be coincidence – meaning that they feel more like signs than occurrences.  For example, what were the chances that a twelve-year-old boy would renting be out Pirahnah play-boats, carbon fiber bent shaft paddles, and only one L snapdragon spray skirt just beneath the waterfalls of Kravice in the middle of Bosnia.


It was my first time back in a kayak in three years.  And I felt like a Golden Retriever let free from a long trip in its kennel.  Beneath those spring fed waterfalls I ecstatically splashed around, reawakening muscles that I believed had retired years ago.  I reserved myself, but wanted to scream as loud as I could till my voice scratched and breath allowed no more.  It was one of those rare moments in life where the word happy held both a deep and simple meaning that you are able to attribute to yourself without hesitance.


Even though I’ve had many people refute this claim, I believe it to be true.  I love to share.  It is why I enjoy blogging, photography, telling stories, food, and nearly every other form of communication.  And as much as I never wanted to step out of that kayak, and instead forever listen to the crisp water crashing upon its-self, I was equally pulled to paddle ashore and give both Dallas and Mickey turns in the boat.


I imagine to them that it was little more than a fun time afloat.  And I wouldn’t expect it to be any more meaningful than just that.  But in my mind I had been given an opportunity to share a part of me.  As if two meaningful people in my life were attending a religious ceremony at my own church.  A boat and paddle are such meaningful objects to my life that the opportunity to share them with close friends held an indescribable fulfillment.


This day was the most familiar and unique I had had during my trip so far.  And while driving away from those falls, I felt that I had been given a gift – an insignificant experience to remind me how simple the greatest joys in life are.

It was our last day with the car.  And by 2:00pm we lacked an itinerary and were standing in the Split airport.  But both the girls didn’t want to leave – they had caught the travel bug.  Micky, who had been begging for a luxury hotel room and blow dryer the first nights, now shyly asked if there was 2a beach we could sleep on.  And Dallas…Dallas often gives me a run for my money.  And ever so politely did they ask to accompany me in the final days of my travels, which is why at this moment we are all on a train to Budapest.

This time though, I was able to get seats.



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