In an effort to stretch out the season a bit – and of course to give out complexions a last kick of summer sun – Dora and I drove down to
Camping didn’t work out. We arrived in the
Which reminds me of something that needs explaining, namely the way rooms are rented in this region. I don’t see this happening in the States. The vacation destinations here in Hungary, in Croatia, and in a lot of other places nearby all have hotels of course, but the more common way to overnight is private accommodations. Home owners rent out rooms in their houses. Some people build a second building exclusively for renting, but you still end up paying the owner directly. Typically the accommodations are modest, but the simplicity of the arrangement gives that modesty a certain charm. In very popular destinations, travelers have to go through a “Travel Agency,” but this just means driving to the center of town and asking where you can stay the night. Such is the case on the coast, but in the Lakes region there were plenty of places to stay.
Dora and I just drove up to a house with the sign “Apartman” posted outside, asked if the dog was allowed, and with a ‘yes,’ we had a room + breakfast for $40 a night. Firm mattress, room for the dog, shared bathroom, and kitchen facilities.
Of course, as soon as we unpacked the clouds broke up. (While it did rain again later, I was kicking myself for giving up on camping so easily.) So we went for a walk. The countryside in that part of
The next day we got to the park by nine. Beautiful doesn’t begin to get at what there is to see at the
It wasn’t perfect. It was crowded. Italians, Germans, Hungarians, Austrians, English, more Italians, Serbs, and a few Croatians. The self-guided trail was a perfect illustration of all the problems and advantages facing the EU. The boardwalk was not designed to handle heavy traffic. It was structurally sound, but at every turn there was another family posing for a photo. The rain started up again just as Dora and I finished our picnic lunch. By the time we got to the electric boat that would ferry us back to the entrance, it was a downpour. We brought an umbrella, but not everyone did. And that ferry was a serious bottleneck. We waited on the dock for over thirty minutes. Peak season can be trouble.
With the rain coming down and the park checked off our list, Dora and I decided to head for the coast a day early. The drive was pretty. Between the two mountain ranges,
You come out of this tunnel and the
Unfortunately the rain was still with us. We were tired of being wet and found a hotel.
The next day we jumped on the 11:00 ferry to Stari Grad. It’s the second largest city on the island. It is the historical center of the island Hvar and is perched on the waterfront at the end of a huge natural harbor. Stone buildings, beautiful water front, and boats bobbing in the water.
We found the apartment I had reserved online, and as the rain started to dissipate, we walked around trying to get our bearings. We cooked ourselves an incredible dinner made from what would have been camping food, plus some farmer’s market spinach.
The sun was out the next day. We drove to the city of
The beaches are rock on the
We went back to Stari Grad in the evening. We had a nice dinner out on the town. I had a fish soup that tasted fresher than any I’ve ever had before.
The next day, was our last before we had to drive back. We didn’t have a room reserved. So we drove around the island, exploring and maybe hunting up a place for the night. We swam near a town called Jelsa. This was our best beach day. Szóda was in and out of the water for hours. The water was perfect, and the view was really something else.
At the end of the day we ended up back in Stari Grad, because we wanted to catch an early ferry.
I will finish this long entry with a quick retelling of the story of Phillip. Our room on that last night was tiny. To the point where it was uncomfortable, but we’d be up early, plus there was a rooftop terrace. I grilled sausage and zucchini for Dora and me. Szóda slept off the day’s activities, and we all met Phillip.
He is Swiss. He has to be well into his fifties. And he kind of creeps Dora out. He chatted with us while I grilled. He never said or did anything that made us uncomfortable, but there was something we couldn’t pin down before he went of to dinner and left Dora, Szóda and me on the roof for a romantic last night.
We got to bed by ten, because we would have to be up before six. Unfortunately, we weren’t meant to sleep well that night. It was close to three in the morning when Phillip started banging on the front door. He’d lost his room key. When the angry owner let him in, he went to the door of two young Croat girls, girls he had apparently shown an interest in during his stay, and Phillip started pleading his case. He wanted to sleep in their room. One of them got a bit freaked out (understandably) and left the apartment building. When we left the next day, she was still AWOL. Phillip ended up sleeping on the hallway floor, chair cushions from the terrace serving as his mattress. That where I found him at six when I went to brush my teeth. He said, “Good morning.” I did not.
Dora and I made the ferry with plenty of time, and discussed the Phillip events for a good portion of our boat ride back to
Szóda slept for the entire car trip back to
It was a great trip.
3 comments:
camping in a different country? i've never tried to visualize that. it appeals to me. will nature have a foreign accent? funny to hear that you've lost your camping gear during the many moves in your life hogan. i've been paring down all my belongings for the last two weeks, in anticipation of selling the house, and camping gear is one of the few things i'm holding on to, of course i've only really moved twice in my adult life, and both time involved MOVE TONS OF SHIT.
the idea of driving around with a good travel partner equipped with general destination plans is inspiring. i tend to over plan events, often leading to disappointment.
thought: it's nice break not having to post a comment on something political that i really can't back myself up on with good research.
Bradley, if you ever make it out here, we'll take you camping--foreign style. Incentive? I hope so.....
I have been to Split! It was Yugoslavia then.....and it was part of the USSR and whatever it was called, it was beautiful then too.
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