Dubvrovnik, come rain or come shine

Luckily, we had more shine than rain. But first, we had to get there. It's a long drive from Split to Dubvronik. We meant to get on the A1 highway, but missed the sign on leaving town – very easy when your Croatian is limited to "hvala" ("thank you") and the road signs are designed for locals who know where they're going anyway – and found ourselves on the E65 – a very winding picturesque route that follows the coast-line. Picturesque is of no use to the driver, who's concentrating on not falling off the cliff or not running down pedestrians in small towns and villages. I proposed that we join the A1 at the first possible opportunity, which we did, at Šestanovac. However, the A1 is an unfinished oeuvre, and about two-thirds of the way down we had to re-join the coastal E65 near somewhere with the endearing name Ploce (as in, "I'm going to plotz"). This proved to be a very convoluted drive in itself, that seemed to take us so far out of our way that I actually thought we were lost and would soon find ourselves in Bosnia-Herzegovina. But we didn't.

We'd consulted our trusty guide-book and decided which part of Dubrovnik we were aiming for, with the intent of finding a decent B&B not too far from the Old City. Ha! We went round and round in circles, up and down hills, fighting our way through traffic, and nearly gave up. Not that I know what that means; after all, we had to find somewhere to lay our weary heads. Luckily, when we made a dash for an empty parking space, we realized it was right next to a Sobe sign. Yay! A possible B&B and a parking spot?! That's nearly more than anyone can expect. As Fadila's husband pointed out, the city has around 5000 legal parking spaces for 20,000 cars.

Fadila and her husband run a lovely guesthouse within easy walking distance of Dubrovnik's old city. (Er, easy when going downhill, that is. Coming back uphill at the end of a touring day is a bit more challenging. But you can always catch the bus uphill.) We gratefully dumped our stuff in the bedroom, and accepted their gracious invitation to join them for a glass of chilled white wine on the patio. The patio, it turns out, is also where breakfast is served. One day it will be shaded by vines overhead. Currently there are some vines, and an awning ready to be pitched as needed.

Fadila is a very attentive and caring hostess, and I'm sure you'll be very comfortable there, unless you're expecting rural peace & quiet with only the sound of chirping birds and the occasional mooing cow. This is a bustling city, and it bustles. Personally, it didn't bother me, I just ignored it. But you should be prepared.

Fadila and I saying goodbye:

As in the other cities we visited, the main attraction is the old city. We went from Small to Medium to Large. So if you start with Dubrovnik and then go to Rovinj, say, you'll "run out" of old city sooner than you expect. The sight I enjoyed most when walking on the city walls was the sea of orange roofs. Thing is, these eye-catching orange tiles are brand new, replacing the old decrepit ones and the ones damaged by recent wars.

We looked for gifts or souvenirs for "the kids" but found nothing worthwhile. The expensive labels are available at similar shops in Israel and elsewhere; the knicknacks are kitschy, and who really needs a T-shirt that says Dubrovnik on it? There was one T-shirt I liked, it said Volim Pivo, which means I love beer :-) Should have gotten that for Baby, to get him started on the right track in life without the ganenet(nursery teacher) catching on... Except perhaps if she's a native of those parts and understands and would henceforth look askance at his parents.

I did buy a large beach towel, though, since we'd booked places aboard the Rodulfo for an island-hopping "cruise": a sailboat with a few dozen tourists going to 3 islands, plus lunch, and soft drinks and wine as much as you want. For beer you have to pay extra, but wine is free.

Aboard the Rudolfo:

I hadn't brought anything suitable for lazing on a beach (no shorts or sandals), but as it turned out, the hoodie and scarf I brought along came much more in handy: on the way back the sky turned grey, the wind picked up, the water was choppy and splashed in our faces. The more experienced travelers got out their high-quality Polartecs, while those in T-shirts shivered bravely. Among the shivering ones was Paloma, a soft-spoken psychologist from the Canary Islands with whom we became friendly on this "cruise". Only half-way back to shore did it suddenly occur to us that Michael was carrying this brand-new big towel in his backpack. We offered it to Paloma who wrapped it around her and made me feel less guilty as I sat snugly wrapped in three layers.

For the rest of our experiences in Dubrovnik, wait for my next post.

Split Personality

Sorry, couldn’t resist. You’ve just got to make a pun when faced with a city named Split.

Split probably has more than two personalities. The two we saw – the old and the new – are so interwoven as to be inseparable. The houses, shops and restaurants are literally built to incorporate both. As our guide Rada said, the law in Split was, that you mustn’t destroy, you may only add on. And that’s what they did in the Old City of Split. It’s quite fascinating, really, to see a modern bank with bits of an ancient wall, ancient flower-shaped drain and other ancient pieces among the spanking new furniture and modern-day equipment. Not to mention that the outer walls of the first floors are of glass – ordained so by law – so as not to deprive citizens of the right to see their antiques on a daily basis.

As in Ljubljana, here too, the Old City with its tourist traps is not the whole story. It is but one aspect, one personality out of several. True, it has a delightful market that serves all; and a promenade – called the Riva – where, we are assured, ordinary Croatian folk like to stroll; these are not reserved for tourists alone. But I daresay most of the city’s daily life does not necessarily revolve around this section of town.

Of course, I may be half or totally wrong, for the simple reason that Croatia’s economy relies heavily on tourism. So, especially as soon as spring begins and the tourists start arriving, it is totally possible that many citizens do flock to this part of town as part of their daily-bread-earning routine.

Arriving at Split around noon on Wednesday, we headed straight for Josip’s travel agency, Travel49. Though “straight” is a bit misleading, considering how we wove our way in the maze of narrow lanes, like many other confused tourists carrying map in hand and wearing a hat and a puzzled expression. The moment Josip heard we wanted wi-fi, he said only one place would do – the Diocletian Palace Apartments, in a 500-year old building. So we have a long and narrow apartment all to ourselves: A 10-meter dark-tiled corridor with three rooms to the right: our bedroom; another bedroom probably meant for the younger generation; a bathroom that even has a washing machine (highly desirable contraption); and at the end of the corridor a fully equipped kitchen. Most of this is rather wasted on us. Still, it’s nice to have spacious, comfortable accommodations right in the center of the Old City. And for a reasonable price, too.

The down side is that there’s no parking anywhere in sight… Josip helpfully marked on the map for us the nearest section of town where parking is free anywhere along the street. Of course, we were not the only ones directed there, so finding a free spot was easier said than done. And once we parked, we had to drag our luggage all the way back to our palatial apartment, I’d say about a kilometer. Downhill, luckily. Which means we’ll be hauling it uphill when we leave… Moral of the story: If you have a choice, don’t bother coming to Split by car.

For anyone truly interested in history and archeology, Split is fascinating. For anyone interested in shopping, I can’t really vouch whether there are any good bargains to be had. Some of the stuff in the market stalls looked the same as you could get locally (i.e., in Israel, in the Carmel market, along Allenby St. in Tel Aviv, and in posh shops anywhere.) For anyone interested in sitting in an outdoor café and passing the time of day lounging and watching – it is excellent. Though I am a bit mystified about these so-called cafes. All anyone seems to drink there is beer, wine, and coffee. What about something to nibble? To help soak the alcohol or accompany the coffee? Nothing. Nada. Niente. You want food? That’s a different story: go to the nearest bakery or pizza place (of which there are plenty.) We did see some people eating baked goods which they brought with… Something we wouldn’t dream of doing “back home”. I really should ask: Is it the done thing? Can I buy a croissant, say, at the bakery, bring it with me to the café and enjoy it with my kava bijela?

-- Time to go and see some more of Split. TTFN.

House Tina, Grabovac, Croatia

Walking in Nature for hours sure is tiring! It’s good to have a room in a place like Tina’s to come back to. Especially since, as I mentioned, our previous accommodations were not the best. That being the case, we naturally wanted to make sure to do better this time around.

I wonder whether this guest-house is mentioned in any Hebrew-language guide book. We consulted the Rick Steves book, upon which we’ve been relying pretty heavily this trip. Turns out he also explains about the infamous biljeta that cost us an arm and a leg; we simply hadn’t read that part (but had relied on the car-rental folks to warn us of such details.)

Anyway, we left Rovinj and headed east north-east until a place that begins with K – wait, let me check – Karlovac -- where we turned south in the general direction of the famous Plitvicka Jezera national park. It may be world famous, but I bet most of the world’s population had never heard of it. Anat, one of my exercise-class chums, had told me in no uncertain terms: “Whatever you do in Croatia, make sure you go to Plitvicka! Repeat after me: Plitvicka!” Other fellow-Israelis had expressed themselves similarly. As I explained to Canadians Andy & Victoria (whom we’re still half-expecting to bump into around the corner), Slovenia & Croatia (often said in one breath, as if they were twins) are a popular destination with Israelis: a short flight away, pretty scenery that combines abundant greenery with beaches, mountains and shopping hubs; and a European flavor without the expense of France or Italy, say. Andu & Victoria’s Canadian friends, on the other hand, reacted much like our own Canadian daughter upon hearing our destination: “Croatia?” they gasp, “What kind of a place is that?!”

It was a long drive – five hours, including two short stops. We’d decided to eschew the big hotels in the park itself and find a good B&B. Anyone who’s done this trip knows that the countryside is choc-a-bloc with B&Bs. Signs saying Sobe-Zimmer-Apartman are practically on every country home. So without anyone to guide you or recommend a place, you’re bound to be pretty confused. House Tina – our guidebook says – has received consistently good feedback. So here we are. The owner, actually Tina’s mom, a lovely woman named Lubica (pardon my misspelling) has wisely painted her picturesque house yellow, which helps it stand out among the other houses. Internet permitting, I shall of course upload a photo. Briefly: Clean, neat, comfortable, good size. Very pleasant landlady. Spanking-new, highly aesthetic dining room serving a decent breakfast. Though the coffee/tea could be hotter; when it’s served in flasks (thermoses) it inevitably isn’t as hot as it ought to be. The shower stall is a bit small, but why quibble when everything else is fine. The bigger, highly-sophisticated shower stall at the Villa Ladavac certainly did not make up for that place’s shortcomings. So there. The Internet connection is a sore point. There should be wi-fi, and we have the password, but for some reason there’s no connection. Bother.

Back to the lakes and waterfalls of Plitvicka. I am lost for words. Let’s just say that if you wanted to make a movie that takes place in the Garden of Eden, I would highly recommend this location. Of course, you’d have to close it down to tourists for the duration of filming. Or perhaps you could sell tickets and have visitors, suitably hidden and camouflaged in the foliage, watch the filming; should pay for the production quite nicely, making up for lost revenue. But I digress.

My adorable tiny Cannon can’t possibly do the place justice: waterfalls everywhere, amazing blue-green lakes and streams, lush greenery everywhere, and wooden plank walkways. A word of warning about those walkways: Watch your step. They’re very pretty, those planks, but sort of uneven, with uneven gaps between them, and shallow steps that take you by surprise. Half the time I had to look down carefully to make sure I don’t miss a step and go sprawling. Another warning: Come early in the day, as well as early in the season. Otherwise, the place is mobbed. As it was (earlyish morning, early May), there were some “traffic jams” on those wooden walkways, with groups of high-spirited local high-school kids, or of sedate, elderly European tourists, walking in opposite directions, cause congestion and a bit of dismay. See, most of these walkways do not have rails, and do have water at least on one side. So you really do not want to be shoved over and find yourself among the fish.

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By now it's a day later; I obviously did not find myself among the fish, and am now miles away, in Split. Another post to follow, when I've recovered from the first day in Split.

From Bled to Rovinj - Continued

... as I was saying, you can't really compare the two cities, so I'm not.
One funny thing I hadn't mentioned about Slovenia is, that they seemed to be celebrating Asparagus Holiday. We arrived smack in the midst of asparagus season; asparagus featured prominently in every menu, every restaurant, every market. The restaurant at the Mayer Penzion had a special, green, high-quality glossy asparagus menu, with a delightful selection of asparagus dishes. Yes, they were delicious. I fully approve of asparagus season.

After we "did" the Julian Alps (a gross exaggeration, of course), we continued through narrow, winding country roads through places with names like Bovec, Zaga, Kobarid, Most na Soci, and others that are too small to appear on our map. Our destination was the car train -- Autovlak, leaving from Podbrdo and cutting through the mountain, emerging at the unpronounceable yet very real Bohinjeska Something, some 35 km south of Bled, i.e. saving us a lot of driving on the way back. Getting to the boarding point was nerve racking, due to roadworks that forced us to stop in our tracks and wait while the minutes ticked away and we thought we might miss the train. (As I explained on my other blog.) We, and two other cars, drove carefully onto the flat train carriage, put the car into first, pulled the hand-break, and away we went into the dark tunnel for a 15 min claustrophobic ride...

All this seems ages ago...

Here in Rovinj, the trick seems to be trying to find a restaurant that isn't a typical tourist trap. There's one in the old city that obviously tries to cater to just such tourists who are tired of the typical tourist places... It calls itself The Creative Restaurant, and boasts that it serves no pizza and no calamari, but I'm not sure we'll take their word for it. Last night, after imbibing a decent amount of the local pivo called Ozujsko, served by the lovely Adriana at Cafe Feniks (I kid you not; it even has a Facebook page), we strolled over to a restaurant slightly hidden behind the others for a decent seafood meal. Sorry, didn't write down the name. Which would be unprofessional of me were I a professional travel writer, which I'm not. But which brings me to today's pleasant new acquaintances -- Andu and Victoria Keddis, travel writers and paragliding aficionados from Vancouver, Canada. Got to talking over breakfast this morning.

Andu and Victoria agreed that this B&B -- Villa Ladavac -- isn't the tops... We've seen better. Some small additions would make a big difference. For instance: towel racks in the bathroom; plain soap in the shower and/or the washbasin; a bulb in the reading lamp; a blanket that's actually big enough for a double bed; a few more human touches of that sort. Oh well -- better luck next time.

It's getting windy and a bit cloudy out. Better get the heavier sweatshirt, and perhaps an umbrella, before we go out for dinner. Tomorrow we're off to Slunj. TTFN.