Upon landing in Zagreb, our first activity was to book our train tickets to Split, a city further south on the Mediterranean coast. After our hallowing tour of the Holocaust, we were looking forward to some nice Mediterranean beaches to ease our souls.
After entering the city, however, we regretted buying those train tickets. Lesson #1: don't pay for things in advance, a mistake we would repeat again, and much worse, in Athens. It was not just any one thing to see in Zagreb, but rather a unique culture to soak in. Unlike the rest of Eastern Europe we had visited, where people listen to American music and try to dress like their western counterparts, the people of Zagreb had adopted their own style, somewhere between Western and funk and a lot Croatia. The people are extremely tall and very good looking.
Jon and I walked around doing a self-guided tour of the "things to see." Our favorite spot was known as the most colorful street in Zagreb, where we spent the rest of the evening drinking beers and eating kebabs. The street was devoid of cars and lined with funky cafes and restaurants. As night fell, we boarded the tram back to the train station and headed on our overnight to Split, seats only as our budget permitted.
Split was exactly the gorgeous, red-tiled roofs, Mediterranean coast that I had imagined. We stayed at a campsite on the water, choosing a tent site immediately adjacent to the beach. On our first day, while reading in our crazy creeks at the beach, we met an Irish couple around our age. We began our tradition of cooking dinners and exploring Croatia together for the next week.
The next day was quite eventful. First, I got stung by a bee while doing yoga on the docks in the water. I had achieved a meditative state with my legs crossed when, all of a sudden, I experienced a sharp and then throbbing pain in my hand. My hand began to swell, but my breathing was fine (I'm allergic) so we continued on with our plan of hiking to the top of the mountain we could see across the bay. For the rest of the week, Jon referred to my poor, swollen as my "meat patty," as it resembled a massive meat patty.
The hike began with a vague idea of how to approach the mountain but with little clue as to how to find our structure. We began hiking up through a town at the base of the mountain, and as pavement disappeared into a wide dirt road, that began to narrow into a steep hiking trail that mapped directly up the mountain until we were breathing so heavily that we had to stop and rest. An hour or two in, Mary and Sean decided to turn around. Jon and I continued alone, picking our way up the trail. Soon it evened out as it crossed across the mountain, depicting striking and impressive views of the Mediterranean. The landscape was dry vegetation, littered with pomegranate trees. After another hour or two of gradual uphill, we suddenly entered an ancient village in the midst of the mountain. Ruins half hidden under grass popped out of the land among lived-in houses and an old church lay at one end. We passed through the town and headed up a narrow and steep switch back, guided by large white crosses next to the path. The path led us to the top of the mountain and a small ancient church, where we ate a picnic lunch. From the church we continued across the ridge towards our structure, on the way passing an enormous cross, a large mountain goat that had definitely never encountered humans before, and a long rocky path before we made it in view of our structure. It was reaching late afternoon and I was worried about making it home before dark, but we pressed on, determined to reach our goal. The end was a steep bit over loose rocks, leading up to another ancient Christian structure. On the way home, we got lost, bushwhacked through spiky plants, viewed a poisonous snake, and witnessed a forest fire being combatted by small planes dropping ocean water. Passing through the old village midway down, Jon met a man who had fought in the war, and with reluctant pride showed him a bullet wound on his leg. Jon and I both agreed it was one of the best day hikes we had ever done.
We ate dinner a few nights at a restaurant near our campsite where we made friends with owner, Miro. One of our first nights, we stumbled upon restaurant with our Irish friends. We drank wine and ate delicious food late into the night. Around midnight, the restaurant was closing but we were still in the middle of a bottle of wine and in the throes of laughter. One of the owners approached us and told us he had to drive his cook home, but would we look after the restaurant while he was gone? Leaving us with a free bottle of wine, he took off, putting his trust in us. Upon his return, he sat down and drank with us. He was a very interesting character, and spoke frankly with us about the war and its repercussions. Most Croats are reluctant to talk about the war, but that night allowed us to bond with Miro and develop a repoirt with him that allowed him to open up to us over the next few days.
From Split we headed further down the coast to Dubrovnik, accompanying Mary and Sean in their camper. Along the way we drove briefly through Bosnia, where we received a thorough search. They discovered some dirt wrapped in a small plastic bag that Jon had taken from Wroclaw, his father's birth place. The bag closely resembled heroine and led them to believe that we were trafficking drugs. Of course we were not, but they proceeded to spend the next two hours ransacking the camper and our bags. The border patrol officers, at first suspicious, soon became kind and even joked around with us, in contrast to our later experience being searched in Israel. Finally, they let us go and we continued to Dubrovnik.
Dubrovnik, historically known as Ragusa, gained its significance as a port city in the late in the twelfth century. With its strategic trading location between the east and west, the city remained self-governing until Napoleon briefly conquered it. Dubrovnik was the most beautiful city I've ever been to.
After one night of camping in what I think was the most unattractive spot in Dubrovnik, we met a woman at the bus station who offered us a room in her aunt's house for the same price. After seeing the room, in a small red-roofed house on the mountain side looking out over the new port and harbor, we took it. Anilla was an elderly woman who made us cappuccino and spoke very little English. "No problem," she would always say and smile. One night, we brought home fresh fish from the fish market, along with produce to create a light, Mediterranean meal. The moment we stepped into the kitchen, however, she looked at the ingredients, confiscated them and began cooking it herself. "No problem," she said and smiled. I sat back and helped her to chop garlic and peel potatoes while she added ingredients to the stew. On the one hand, I felt frustrated at the idea of not being able to prepare my well thought out meal. I love to cook and had not had such a well-equipped kitchen or such fresh ingredients. On the other hand, it was pleasant and comforting to be taken care of.
For anyone who has not yet visited Croatia, and particularly Dubrovnik, I highly recommend it! It will be joining the EU in 2013, and tourism is sure to spike, so get there before everyone else does! Tune in for Montenegro and Albania!
Location:Croatia
