Split, Croatia

We never thought that our ferry ride from Bari, Italy to Dubrovnik, Croatia could have been worse than our first ferry ride. The seats in the reception we thought we would sleep on didn’t exist. In fact, there was no reception area at all. The Croatian ferry was more akin to a fishing boat minus the fish. Every soft seat on the entire ferry had a metal armrest separating it from the others. This made it impossible to stretch out and sleep on them. The crafty Croatians had ensured that anyone who didn’t book a cabin would not be getting a comfortable night’s sleep on the ride over.

Carolyn and I slept on the floor that was covered with a red carpet that felt like astroturf. Without pillows, blankets or any other amenity that would have softened the blow we drifted in and out of an exhausted stupor. I would love to write that we awoke the next morning but that would infer that we actually slept. Instead, we became more aware of our surroundings and our eyes focused better as the sun heralded the end of our seven-hour daze.

Once we arrived at Dubrovnik we were the first ones off the ferry. We walked out of the port area and we were met by dozens of Croatians trying to sell us stays at their hotels. We hadn’t had wifi since Greece and because we were afraid that we wouldn’t be able to get ferry tickets, we hadn’t booked any place to stay. We found an internet café nearby and sat down to use the internet and Carolyn bought a tea. Everything in Dubrovnik was triple the price of normal lodging. We made a quick decision to instead take the bus (that we were told was three hours) to Split. We found cheaper hostels there and thought we could manage a three-hour bus ride. After we changed our euro for kuna, we walked to the station and purchased our tickets. Apparently, the bus stopped in many stops along the coast and the ride would take five hours. Having already bought the tickets, and having nowhere to stay anyway, we boarded the bus where a scowling Croatian was smoking and hovering near his bus.

Our tickets had our seat numbers printed on them but when we went to our seats there were people already in them. They were English-speaking travelers and they told us that there was no assigned seating. Too tired to argue, Carolyn and I walked back to the front of the bus and took seats apart from each other. Just before the bus was ready to leave, a slim woman with short dark hair and piercing blue eyes boarded the bus and stood looking at her ticket and at the number above the seats. A petite blonde Australian girl sat in the seat she was eyeing. When the lady asked for her seat, the Aussie tried to explain that someone was in her seat as well. The woman got off the bus and found the smoking, scowling bus driver. He scratched his balding pate and shrugged his shoulders over and over in an exaggerated motion. The woman continued speaking until the driver boarded the bus and stomped over to the Aussie. He barked something in Croatian and the Aussie plead her case in English. The driver didn’t understand a word of English and the Aussie not a word of Croatian. Tired with the disparity in understanding the driver grabbed the Aussie by the arm and yanked her out of her seat. The woman nodded her head in approbation and sat down where the Aussie had been. The Aussie kept trying to explain that now she didn’t have a seat. Carolyn and I asked the driver if he was going to make everyone change. I showed him my ticket and pointed to the 25 printed there and the 7 above my seat and then I shrugged in an exaggerated manner like I observed him do earlier. The driver seemed to understand the problem he had on his hands. The entire bus was not sitting in the assigned seats and one woman wanted to sit in her assigned seat. In order to remedy this, everyone would have to change seats with their luggage inside the tiny bus. He motioned for the Aussie to sit down in an empty seat by a window and she did so without speaking.

The driver seemed content with the solution and stomped back up to his seat grumbling. We began the long drive to Split. The scenery as beautiful and the water was clear and inviting. Bathers were taking advantage of the water to find relief from the hot temperatures. From inside the muggy bus, the refreshing water might as well have been on another planet. After about two hours of riding, the driver began to smoke. Just above his head was a no smoking sign. I grabbed my shirt and put it over my mouth and nose to show him I was affected by the smoke. He looked me dead in the eye and blew smoke up into the air.

Unlike Italy, where a ticket checker would come by once during the trip, a ticket checker checked our tickets three times. Nobody had gotten off or on during this period so all of us English-speaking travelers were curious as to the reason. We never actually discovered why after about 20 minutes of checking our tickets, they came by again to check them. Maybe there were incidents in the past where people had driven alongside the bus in cars and climbed aboard as we were speeding along the coastal highway. During the trip we had to enter Bosnia and our passports were checked as well. The woman who checked ours didn’t even really look at them once she saw we were U.S.  I was under the impression that she was looking for passports of certain countries in particular. We had another passport check when we left Bosnia and reentered Croatia. All in all we had a total of five checks of passports and tickets from the city of Drubrovnik to Split.

We arrived at the coastal town of Split and it was teaming with people. Many backpackers walked around holding maps and families with small children walked along a white-stoned path that wound around the waterline. Walking on the white stones made the temperature even more uncomfortable and once again we were pouring sweat. It had been two days of balmy travel since either of us had showered and for the first time I was aware of my own body odor. My own stink had been masked by the constant body odor of other travelers and the occasional smell of urine on the sidewalk. The directions to the hostel in Split were written in very broken English – the meaning of which left Carolyn and I both wandering down the hot seaside walkway in the opposite direction of our hostel. After asking some Croatians where certain streets were by pointing to the names in the directions on our email, we managed to find our hostel. We hiked our bags up the wooden stairs and rung the bell. We were soaking wet and smelled awful.

We decided that in order to save some money we would do four-person dorms instead of private rooms. The savings would net about seven euro each per day or the equivalent of about ten US dollars. When on a budget of 50 dollars a day, the savings would be significant over the long run. After meeting our roommates, Michelle from Melbourne, Australia and Hannah from Korea, we showered. A shower had never felt so good in my entire life. I did burn the top of my left foot though because when I turned the water on it had apparently been left on the magma setting. Because really cold and really hot seem awfully close to your nerves, it took me a second to realize that it was that hot.

After our showers we explored Split and set out to do our laundry as well. We found one of the only laundromats in Croatia and met a Croatian girl named Adreanna who worked there. During our conversation about things to see in split she offered us some cookies her mother had made. We chatted as we waited for our clothes to wash and dry. A blonde girl named Julia overheard some of what we said and she joined in the conversation as well. She was traveling with her boyfriend, Nico and they were both from Germany. After the tips from Adreanna and our laundry was finished, Julia and Nico invited us out to dinner with them at a place that Adreanna had recommended.  The restaurant was called Fife and we ate grilled sea bass, black ink squid risotto, grilled vegetables and salad. We discussed politics and world events with the couple for a couple of hours as we ate our dinner. Much of the conversation was about how the economy was going and the effect that the housing/banking scandal/meltdown has had on other countries in the world. On the way home Carolyn and I stopped into a tea shop and got some fresh tea and baggies because she hadn’t found any breakfast tea in the neighboring stores.

The following day we went out to Bene beach. This was a beach that Julia and Nico had suggested because it was secluded and was flanked by pine forests. Carolyn and I took the 21 bus to the 12 bus and then rode it until the end of the line. We walked down the hill through pine forests filled with noisy secadas. They were so noisy that we could hardly hear each other speak. Once on the rocky beach we jumped in the water and floated in the Adriatic Sea. It was such a contrast to the muggy heat we’d been accustomed to while traveling. The water was clear, full of life and salty enough that you could float without any effort at all. We relaxed on the rocks for about an hour and then headed back to the hostel. I could already feel a burn coming on. I only had a farmer’s tan and I could feel the heat on my back and stomach.

Once we arrived at the hostel, I set about making lunch. We had purchased some groceries from a nearby store for about 10 euro and figured we could easily get three meals from the food we bought. For lunch I made tortellini with white cream sauce and wiped our plates clean with fresh bread. After lunch we meandered around the old town part of Split and took some pictures of the buildings and architecture. After we walked all over the city, we returned at dusk and hung out in the kitchen area. Travelers from all over the world had been coming and going and in was interesting to chat with them about their travels and especially to get tips on where they’d come from and where we should go. One of these travelers was Jason Paperman from Montreal. He was traveling and then returning to school to begin his studies in law. The university he will be attending is ranked 13 in the world and is the number one university in Canada. His tuition for the year is around three thousand dollars. The tuition in California for state universities just went up again for the second time in a year to a total of $3,440. We talked about travel and the similarities and differences between Canada and the US until about 2 a.m. We had to call it a night because Carolyn and I had to catch a train to Zagreb the capital that promised a lengthy 6-hour ride.