We have a working morning, booking
our next reservations in Hvar and Dubrovnik. Now we’re ready for a swim. We
only need to walk a few blocks to the rocks past the harbor, where the local
kids jump off the rock formations into the deep waters.
On the way, we stop at the pharmacy,
where Bob has asked the clerk to order some sharp tweezers for him, gesturing a
splinter in his paw, so the clerk said “I know what you mean, I can order for
you.” We have learned that many items that are commonly available at your local
K-mart or CVS are usually sold through the small pharmacies in Europe, and are
sometimes surprisingly expensive. We
wanted hydrocortisone cream for bug bites, and found we needed to have a prescription
for it. Ten ibuprofen tablets cost about $4.50. Our clerk greets us and brings
over an assortment of…toenail clippers!
Back at the waterfront, there are a
just few people scattered along the walkway and swimming. I jump in while Bob
relaxes on the side. There are lots of small fish in the water, and I cause a
small feeding frenzy with some breadcrumbs. After a while, we head over to the
city beach park. It’s easy water, warm and shallow, sandy bottom, and we both get in and enjoy the sea and sun.
It’s a fine day for a walk to Split,
about 4 miles along the coast. Right past our town, it’s unpopulated, with farm
fields and greenhouses along a narrow road. It feels like we’re out in the
countryside. After a mile or so, we reach the outskirts of Split. There are
resort hotels along the beach and a paved walk/bike path. Not many people are
out today, so it’s a pleasant walk for us. There are nice swimming coves and
public beaches all along the way.
We
stop for a mineral water at one beach park café. The local men are playing a
game of water handball in the shallows.From Wikipedia:
Picigin (pronounced
"pih-tsih-gheen") is traditional ball game from Split,
Croatia that
is played on the beach.
It is an amateur sport played in shallow water consisting of players keeping a
small ball from touching the water…Picigin is considered a non-competitive
sport: there are no opposing sides, no points, neither winners nor losers. It
is generally viewed as a relaxing and fun game, and many take the opportunity
to make extravagant leaps and acrobatic maneuverings to keep the ball in play.
At
the end of our beach walk, we’re dropped into the busy scene at the Split
harbor. The farmers’ market and street vendors’ tents are just on the next
block over from the harbor and bus station, so everything is really bustling.
The main plaza of Split is facing the harbor, at the edge of the Roman walled
city, lined with huge palm trees and canopied cafes, terrifically scenic.
We
walk through the passage of the original Diocletian palace, from 300 AD, a
tunnel of souvenir shops now. The small cathedral in the historic square is
interesting, though really tiny compared to others we’ve seen. It holds layers
of history, first Roman, then Byzantine, then Gothic, each building on the
remains of the others.
The streets of the old city make a
narrow maze of shops and inns, with tourists all stepping on and around one
another. We make our way out of the walled area to a big park, with a dramatic
statue of the Bishop of Nin by Croatian sculptor Ivan Meštrović.
A
light rain starts up, and we’re ready to find our bus ride home. Today is a
national holiday, Croatian Independence Day, so the buses are running less
frequently than on a normal weekday. There’s no posted schedule, no buses at
the stop, not much information for us. We know one bus will come through at
7:30, but that’s three hours away! Finally, a couple of local guys tell us what
bus to take, so we follow their lead and make it back to Stobrec.
Moving day, bus to Split. our host gives us a warm send-off at the
bus station. As we go, dark clouds pile up and break into rain. We’re just on
the bus, so we don’t care much. This ride is along the coast, but it’s more of
a flat plain, not a mountain cliff. The towns we pass look nice, simple tourist
towns, not much going on but the pleasant waterfronts.
The bus drives into Split, which is
the second largest city in Croatia after Zagreb. It looks much bigger than
Zagreb, with cement tenement towers dominating the cityscape. The harbor is big
and busy with ferries, cruise ships and yachts. It’s across the street from the
bus station, so the whole harbor area is chaotic and full of people, cars,
taxis, buses and boats. Our bus is nearly an hour late, and our host is waiting
for us.
We drive about ten minutes down the
highway to our Stobrec, just on the edge of Split, but a completely different
atmosphere. We’re in a little harbor town, with a street of small shops and
cafes wrapped around a city park, beach and harbor. We’re about one block from
the center of it.
Slow news day. We seem to be happy
to sit around the garden and listen to Croatian hip-hop on the radio. Enjoying
the breeze and the sunshine. We should be doing something, something…or not.
We manage to walk into the city to
the park on the promenade so I can have a swim. Bob sits on a bench in the
shade and has a chat with an old German lady, via his Smartphone translator.
Then, we stop for mineral water at a seaside café that looks like a Monet
scene: white umbrellas and pink petunias, blue sea with sailboats and swimmers.
We walk through the remains of the
Roman forum at the city’s edge, where we can see that the later church on the
site has used the broken columns and carved slabs of the Roman buildings as parts
of its foundation.
We wake to a cool breeze and a trace
of clouds in the sky, much more pleasant than yesterday. We walk to the city to
visit the Museum of Architecture, another very modern building, right in city
center. Once again, we happen to come to a museum as the major exhibition is
being renovated, so we won’t see the Roman collection. There, however, are
Roman ruins all over the city, so we can see all that any time. The museum does
have a pleasant audio guide to their collection of Middle Stone Age and
Medieval artifacts, with a lot of information about the early civilizations in
the area. It’s also completely empty, except for us, so we take our time and
just enjoy the space.
The Church of St. Donat
is across the plaza as we exit, and since it’s cooler today, we can do the
tower climb. It’s not the most beautiful staircase we’ve seen, mostly concrete
steps, but the six huge bells hanging from ancient beams are very impressive.
We miss being chimed by the three o’clock bells by just a few minutes. The top
of the tower is a narrow walkway around the steeple peak, and we’re the only
ones to there enjoy the view. We spend some time looking out on all sides. As
we leave, more tourists start climbing up, and a whole group with small
children comes in just as we exit. Close call.
Our next stop is a restaurant/lounge
called The Garden, opened by some rock group members about ten years ago, and
very trendy. There are platforms with mattresses and pillows for lounging,
sheer drapery over pergolas, cushions everywhere, tres louche, one expects. It’s a very
picturesque harbor view, breezy, with shady trees and sage and lavender hedges
all around.
Now, we need to have a rowboat ride
across the harbor to the marina. The street sign says “Boat Men of Zadar”, with
a bench for waiting. It’s a tradition and good luck to make a wish as you’re
rowed across in the small open boat. The water is pretty choppy today, so we’ll
wish we get through the trip ok. Our man is on the opposite side, and as we
wait, a guy comes up to the steps at the water and strips to his underwear. He
stands there flexing and stretching, then jumps into the harbor water. He gets
out, flexes some more, then jumps in again. The rowboat man is approaching by
now, and he tells the guy he can’t swim there, he’s bothering his tourists, get
out before he calls the police. So the guy gets out and leaves. Did I mention
that practically the entire city is bordered by a swimming park?
The boat is only about 15 feet, and
the Boat Man is an old, heavy, craggy seaman. He helps us get in, then heads to
the other side. His massive paws maneuver the oars with a small, spare motion,
a lesson in efficiency. It only takes a few minutes, and costs less than a
dollar each. On the other side, there are about six new customers, and as they
are about to launch, a man with a big suitcase hurries in. I see one lady
giving her husband a look, like, this is our romantic harbor crossing with the
wishing? Gee, thanks.
On the marina side, we stroll by the
gigantic yachts, window shopping. Everyone is eager to get out sailing today,
with such a good wind, so the marina is bustling. It’s interesting to walk
through it. Then we’ve accomplished our tourist to-do list for the day, and
head home to make some calamari for dinner.
We
head to the bus station to get our tickets to Split on Monday, then walk to the seaside.
Most of the east side of Zadar is a public beach park, all the way into the
city center, with some diving platforms (10 meters!) lifeguards, even a
handicap lift into the water at one spot. It’s pretty nice. We spend a little
time at a café with the computer, and Bob relaxes while I have a swim.
We
walk into the city, but it’s inhumanely hot today. We stagger from shade to
shade, crossing the streets whenever we hit sun. Soon, we just give up and go
home to cold showers.
It’s
the longest day of the year, and the moon comes up late, allllmost full, and
really bright.
The tour to Korneci Islands is on a
not-too-big mostly wooden ship. It’s about half full, and we’re glad to be
ahead of the crowded season, because there are still people at every table. As
we clear the waters around Zadar and head out to the archipelago, we’re served breakfast, a
ham and cheese sandwich, no coffee. We have a lively family group next to us,
playing one enthusiastic game of backgammon after another, with Grampa slamming
the table every two minutes. Talk about annoying…
The ship cruises out for a couple
hours, reaching the nearly barren Korneci islands, taking us along under a rock
cliff, not nearly as dramatic as Pictured Rocks in the USA, perhaps, but still a good
view. We stop at a small harbor to disembark for a swim in a big salt lake. We
find a little shady spot for our swim. The water’s too warm for me, but very
salty and fun enough. We watch as hundreds of tour boaters come into the park.
Some get into the water, others climb up a small rise where, from the lookout
peak, one can see the grey shape of land that is Italy in the distance, about
130km away.
There are some wild donkeys on the
island, and three of them meander by as we’re leaving the beach. They look
pretty scruffy. Not unhappy, just scruffy.
We have lunch on our return trip.
We’re pleasantly surprised to find that it’s grilled whole fish with salad. And
wine. Everyone enjoys the lunch as we travel back through the islands. (Everyone
except for one tweener boy who is having a big mope, he apparently was totally
bummed to see the fish lunch. Eventually his little sister finds him some bread
and peanut butter to save the day.) As we sit with our plates full of fish
bones, Bob starts tossing them out to the seagulls. As soon as I call him out for
being so déclassé, everyone else joins in and soon there are fish heads flying
out all over the place. There’s plenty of wine, so everyone is much friendlier
on the way home. We chat a while with some Canadians, Quebec Separatists, aka
delusional, and a young couple from Switzerland.
When we get back to Zadar, I am
ready for a real swim. We head to the promenade with the Sea Organ and jump in.
AHH, cold water! Much better.
We need to spend some time at home
to find our next accommodations. It’s a necessary procedure, and takes a few hours, but it’s easy enough to get through it, and we
get ourselves set up near the city of Split for a week, about 4 hours down the
coast, then at a small “pirates” town for the week after that. Our host’s father lives above us, and has a big vegetable garden in
the yard. He only speaks German, but he says hello when he comes out to water
the plants. Today he stops with a plate with two gigantic figs for us.
We
head into the city to see the Museum of Ancient Glass. It’s unusual and
interesting, with a modern, spare and clean design. It’s also very hot. We wind
our way through the city streets, shiny polished marble stone streets. Then I
take a swim at the city pier, where the “Sea Organ” makes whale music with the
rolling sea waves.
On our way home, we talk to a tour
guide, and decide to get on a boat trip to the nature preserve archipelago
called Korneci Islands, leaving Thursday morning.
Our host's apartments need to be inspected to be rated for stars,
and the inspectors are coming Friday morning. He needs to make
some adjustments in the apartment to improve his ratings. He thinks he can’t
quite get four stars, but he plans on getting three. We’ll be out of the apartment all day Thursday on our boat trip for him
to make his improvements, and we’ll plan to be away on Friday morning when the
inspectors come through.
We plan a simple day of swimming,
but we end up hiking all the way into the town as we look for the right spot.
We pick up some sunscreen and snacks, then take the log way back as we miss our
path and walk out past the climbing rocks again. We poke around the rocky coast
for a bit, and finally find a very nice swimming spot. The water is deep and
cool. There are small fish all around, not colorful reef fish, but still fun to
see. We have a relaxing day lounging like harbor seals.
On the way home, we stop at a
beachside restaurant for a late lunch. We order sand smelts, which turn out to
be something like fried minnows, calamari and mussel salad. It’s not gourmet
food, but nice and fresh, with a sea view.
We walk into the old town of Zadar
to meet our host. We’re on a hill in a residential area overlooking the walled
city, not a bad 20 minute walk. Our host finds us at our designated café, where he
spends a few minutes harassing the waiter, in Croatian, over his tepid
double-priced latte. “Why am I paying twice the price to be served cold coffee?
Do I have to talk to your manager? You can do this to me one time, it’s not going
to happen a second time.” He’s very particular. He takes us to a friend’s café for coffee and pastry. He
sits with us and has a “Is it too early for alcohol?” rum and coke. It’s
very interesting to talk with him. He’s totally passionate about Croatia, and
has big plans to make a business for himself with his apartments and others. He
has personal experiences with the recent wars here, with losses of life and
property in his family.
On
our own again, we decide to hop on a ferry to nearby Precko, a little town on
the island of Uglian just across the waters. It’s a very pleasant 20 minute
ride, away from the heat in the city. We just walk along the waterfront and
stop at a seaside café for mussels for lunch, a big platter of succulent,
garlicky moules.
We
head back up to our apartment, a small trudge in the evening traffic. Everyone
uses the sidewalks as a parking lot, so you have to stay alert as you walk into
the street half the time. We have leftover pizza and fresh salad for dinner.
We
get up extra early and walk to the bus, even though our host has offered to give us
a ride. But we’re in time for the 8 am bus to Pula, plenty of time to get our 11 am bus to
Zadar. We’re not expecting the wild coastal ride along the edge of the
mountains that drop straight into the sea. The bus sways and lurches as we zigzag
up and down the ridges. It seems like something has to give: the brakes, the
steering column, the springs. It’s quite a thrill, with the scenery and
impending doom, so we hardly notice the 7-hours at all. Time flies when you’re
facing sudden death.
We arrive alive in Zadar, and
our host picks us up at the station. He is, as Bob has determined, a
character. Lots of personality. “My apartment is right near, you vil luf it”.
Our host spends time drawing out our
map, giving us tips on where to go, everything is “Tell them you are from me, it will be better. Go to this restaurant, you vil luf it, if you want a
tour, don’t go with the tourists, tell me I will arrange, you vil luf it”. We
have a nice apartment on the ground floor, clean and quiet, with a small terrace
and a shady yard for us.
There’s a market and a pizza café
nearby, where we pick up some provisions and stop for dinner, telling them “He
sent us.” It doesn’t take long to get settled in.
We have to get in some more swimming
before we leave. We find another rocky spot, shady and not too crowded. The rule
seems to be that if you want to stroll along the paths or sit at the cafes
naked, you should go to the Naturist areas, but you can be as naked as you want
on the rocks and in the water. After our swim, we go back to the apartment to
get organized to leave in the morning. We head back to the beach café for a
great pizza, made in a big wood fire oven.
We’re off for some
swimming today. We walk to the park and along the park path a bit, soon finding
ourselves in the middle of the naturists’ area, which, believe me, is not a
welcome sight. Did I mention the prevailing demographic here? The cove closest
to our entry path is actually the nicest. We rent a couple of beach chaises for
just a few dollars, and get comfortable. This is certainly going to be full of
people in a few weeks, but now there are just a couple of dozen people in sight
around us, we nearly have the waters to ourselves.
After our swim day, we walk into
town for another really pleasant dinner on the rocks at the water’s edge, in a
different restaurant, but with the same wonderful sunset view.
We walk to the bus station and grab
a bus to Pula. It’s a 45 minute drive through the countryside, past olive
orchards and vineyards, stopping at a few nice little towns. Pula is big and
more industrial. It seems to be a ship repair port, lots of cranes and dry dock
areas right in the middle of the city. The streets and promenades are being
repaired, so there’s a lot of construction going on. It’s funny to see the big
cranes looming just behind a small Roman temple, right next to the Hapsburg
style municipal offices.
We’re
a bit lost & a little put off to start, but then we just come up to the
Roman Coliseum, that we had no idea existed. It’s one of 6 intact structures,
and one of the two outside of Italy. We get the audio tour and spend a few
hours touring it. It’s quite interesting to sit in the same seats as the 1st
Century crowds. The tour is informative, and the place is not crowded at all,
so we have a nice time there.
We stop in the main plaza for a
liter of mineral water, where there are locals dressed in togas and soldier
tunics walking around. There’s an “Ancient Days” celebration of some sort going
on, but maybe they do this all the time as well.
We tour through the streets to find
the other notable sites, which are just strewn around the city with very little
ceremony. It’s hard to even dig a garden without dredging up a Roman ruin here.
There’s a large, gorgeous floor mosaic in a protected enclosure, just behind
the parking lot next to the dentist office. Another small arena is tucked
behind an apartment renovation project. The high ground holds a moated
fortress, which we clamber around, protected from falling down the rock walls
by a stick fence tied with string.
We have an interesting visit, even
with the heat, and catch an afternoon bus back to Rovinj. We grab a small roosted
chicken at the local Konsum for an easy dinner on our terrace.
