Dobromil, nestled in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains, must be much the same as when, in 1902, my grandfather traveled several miles from his home in Hubici to obtain a passport to America. We saw horse drawn carts trudging down dirt streets and homes in need of some loving care. That being said, we stayed in a brand-new hotel with a 30 computer internet cafe!
We spent several hours in the nearby cemetary where to our horror we spied an exposed corpse in a vandalized grave--hands folded, shoes askew! Our guide, Slav, then heroically drove us up, up a most challenging rode to see the ancient basilian monastery high above the town. The scenery is breathtaking. Brother Illya offered to guide us to the ruins of a 13th century castle. An hour and a half later, soaked through with rain and heavy with mud, we exuberantly arrived at the top of the highest point to see the castle. The locals have been taking stones and bricks for hundreds of years to build their own dwellings. I must say that this vandalism is impressive--I can't imagine how they got anything off this site.
I woke up at dawn to gentle murmurs of Ukrainian outside my window and the sounds of cattle being driven to pasture.
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