Considering that in eight months of travel this had never happened to me I was a little flabbergasted.
But there was a train leaving about an hour after the bus, so I wasn't panicked. Not yet, anyway.
So I waited. And waited. And waited some more.
The bus was late, naturally. About 20 or 25 minutes if memory serves me.
Lucky for me, when it did finally arrive the driver assured me he had space, so I loaded my bag and bought a ticket to Zagreb.
As it turns out, apparently "full" means "half full."
I arrived in Zagreb in the late afternoon, bought a tram ticket, and hopped on a tram to the town center. Once I got on the tram it was unclear to me where on earth I was supposed to validate said ticket, so I wound up riding the tram for three days on the same ticket since nobody seemed to be checking. I wouldn't advise this when traveling, but if you do, playing clueless tourist has gotten me out of a few scrapes.
First things first; a visit to the pharmacy to beg for something to relieve the mosquito bites which were officially driving me crazy in the stickiness of Croatian summer. Whether or not the stuff she gave me actually works is questionable, but even if it's just the placebo effect, I'll take it.
I had dinner at the Indian restaurant I remember so fondly from my last visit to the city. And boy it was just as good as I remembered. Chana masala, yum! Oh spicy food.
That evening I went to cash in my free welcome shot of rakia, which from experience the last time I was at said hostel I knew would taste like nail polish remover, so I chased it with a beer. After a few beers myself and my Australian room mate, who seemed to suffer from a pretty severe form of ADD, went out for more drinks and attempted to find our new hostel mates at a bar, but as it turns out it was too late and the place was closed. No trouble, we made our way back to the hostel, stopping along the way for tipsy me to run through some sprinklers and lie on the grass outside of a very impressive and official looking building.
The next morning the large group of Canadians in my room woke me up, as they clearly had no concept of appropriate volume. I finally got fed up in my attempts to continue sleeping through the girl in their party of six whining that she couldn't find her shampoo (to the obvious bafflement of her male counterparts who's solution was quite sensibly "just buy more") and I made my way to the bus station for a late morning foray to Plitvice lakes. Just as well I got out of bed, as otherwise I doubt I would have made it back to the lakes, from Zagreb at least.
After a couple hours on the bus I arrived, bought a return ticket for the last bus of the day, and found a place to grab some lunch at the lakes. I then wandered around, rode the ferries around, and stuck my feet in the water to cool off.
Submerged tree.
Ride across one of the lakes.
A path I remember from my previous trip.
Cooling off.
They could do with some real railings around here.
Plitvice is gorgeous in all seasons, but I have to admit I preferred it during the winter without the crowds.
I got back to Zagreb that evening, grabbed a quick dinner, and went to bed early after chatting with my room mates for a bit.
The next morning I went back to the bus station and got myself a ticket to Zadar, and snacked on a chicken sandwich on the way there.
I arrived in Zadar and made my way to the Lazy Monkey hostel, where I ate my Burek (purchased in the bus station in Zagreb) before making friends with some fellow hostel mates and going to our sister hostel the Drunken Monkey for some drinks, then taking a cab to town to visit the local club and bar scene.
Thomas, pictured front left, was determined to be someone's wingman and kept offering his excellent wingman services to us ladies. Remy, pictured front right, gave us this gem of a quote: " I don't believe in God, I don't believe in dinosaurs, but I do believe in destiny," which gave N (middle front) and I endless amusement over the next couple days.
Late night found us walking home, stopping for kebab and burgers on the way. Upon our return, having had an animated conversation about California wine with one of our room mates, I wrote a note detailing the paso wineries he must visit and left it in his shoe. Several weeks later he would find me on facebook from said note.
I spent the rest of my time in Zadar making friends, swimming in the ocean (including a very fun dip one night after the bars), and going on the pub crawl, where I got to know William, a tattoo artist working at the hostel. I agreed to come back to get a tattoo, then made my way to Sibenik on my way to Split.
Zadar coastline.
Lunch with N; ravioli with fig jam and cuttlefish stewed in ink with chickpeas.
Sunset walk with N.
The solar lights.
My one day in Sibenik I spent at the beach, eating at a local fish fast food place where I treated myself to amazing tuna filets and calamari sandwiches with, shamefully, non local beer.
Beef carpaccio, so so good.
Some of the biggest squid I've seen.
My first night in Split I was promptly talked into joining the pub crawl by my Californian room mate, an adorable Asian kid who goes by Moon. Ridiculousness ensued. Highlights included the exasperated guides herding the group of 20+ drunk tourists from bar to bar and the cocky Australian named Matt who introduced himself to me by planting me with a big kiss. I spent the next day lounging around and sleeping off the damage done to my liver and indulging myself in a huge plate of some of the best fried calamari I've ever had.
Note to self, any pub crawl that includes an open bar is dangerous but fun.
The next day I got to the docks an hour before the ferry to Hvar was supposed to leave, to be sullenly informed it was sold out and that I would have to wait until 3pm.
Ok, so four hours to kill carrying my bags. This calls for a beer and some food.
Eventually I did make it on a boat and by late afternoon I found myself on the island trudging up a ridiculously steep hill in 40C weather to Dink's Place, a hostel chosen solely because the owner shares a name with my dad's pug.
Having woken up with a sore throat, which I was still stubbornly refusing to believe was related to illness, I took myself out to dinner for some amazing grilled calamari and then curled up in my room reveling in the air conditioning and a movie or two.
My first full day in Hvar I woke up, still suffering the sore throat, and made my way to town where I popped by a restaurant named Fig, where I ordered a watermelon, prosciutto, feta, and red onion salad. Oh god it was good.
Having decided after that I still wanted more food, I ordered a red onion marmalade flatbread which I ate approximately half of before admitting defeat and getting it boxed to go.
I then went to the beach, and spent a few hours trying to make myself comfortable on the rocks and swimming in the deliciously cool water.
Island life, Croatia.
By the time I made it back up the hill to the hostel the good feeling of swimming had worn off, so I took what would only be the first of weeks of cold showers. That evening, true to form, I was talked into going out for a couple drinks, which turned into fishbowls with my hostel mates and a late night swim in my bra and underwear with one of my room mates. We caused a bit of a stir walking home in our undies, but managed to make it home without getting arrested (frankly, I'm pretty sure the local police who we passed have seen everything and are pretty shock-proof at this point). Lucky for me at least I didn't run into any sea urchins, unlike some hostel mates, one of whose got one in his back. I don't even want to know how that happened.
I woke up still under the weather, but spent another day eating at Fig followed by the beach, and wound up going out again. Hvar is basically not somewhere you want to go when you don't want to go out.
By my final day in Hvar I was officially losing whatever voice I had left, and repeated the typical eat/sunbathe/swim routine before heading out for drinks and late night pizza.
I left the following morning on the ferry and caught a bus back to Zadar, where I promptly curled up in bed and stayed there. In my final days in Zadar I found myself awake two nights due to intense earaches before sucking up my pride and heading to the local hospital, where I was informed curtly that I had both an ear and a sinus infection. With strict instructions to not dive and to stay out of the sun and a round of antibiotics, I lounged around, read, watched a lot of movies, and finally got my new tattoo. William charged me a very reasonable price, and created this beauty in his room at the hostel (don't worry folks, he used a new needle) while we chatted and listened to music.
I also ate more beef carpaccio and grilled squid.
And, as an added ridiculous travel bonus, ran into someone I had met in Romania months before.
I was sad to leave Croatia, knowing it would be the last time for a while, but from Zadar I caught an early morning bus to Split where I caught the bus to Mostar, Bosnia, for the next leg of my Balkan adventure.
To sum up Croatia; swimming, too much fun, and a trip to the local ER.
That's all for now, until next time!
~Swan
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