Dalmatian Coast, Croatia - January 2016

The Dalmatian Coast is the image of Croatia that can often come to mind. Rugged coast line, ancient walled cities perched on cliffs overlooking the blue Adriatic, beaches scattered with European women in deep tans and not much else, islands off in the distance. Warm moist air, afternoon love making while long white curtains flow in the sea breeze, the sun pulsing above the water.

Maybe it's just some poor war torn place that has shuffled names and boundaries over the last 40 years. Or Game of Thrones and kings landing is its newest image.

We drove into Zadar in northern Dalmatia after a final breakfast with Dora in Rovanjska. It is only about 45 minutes away. The Zadar old town is an oval protrusion out into the sea, maybe a couple miles in circumference, flanked on one side by an inlet and yacht club.

We found parking for our trustee steed, fumbled hopelessly with the parking pay station (it was out of order,  but I, suprisingly still don't speak croation), then found another station (conviniently as another person was using it -  monkey see, monkey do.) Even the mundane chips time away from the day, everything is part of the adventure we have to keep reminding ourselves.

After a frantic search for a bathroom,  we wandered through the "old town." All of these coastal cities have them,  they are walled,  no cars,  cobblestone, narrow, full of restaurants, shops, museums.  All are inherently touristy, with (seemingly) varying degrees of utility to the towns people.

The Zadar old town was modest and we had a fine time wandering through.  It does not extend to the waters edge, rather there is a road that circumnavigates it and a seaside promenade that has seen significant redevelopment in recent years. Most notably a sea organ was installed on an edge facing the open sea. It has a very simple modern design, a series of wide stair steps staggered, leading down from the promenade to the water. You can walk and sit on the feature. As the sea ebbs and flows, the organ pipes are engaged, offering a constant singing whistle in time and crescendo with the wave action.

We sat on the steps and watched the handful of sailboats,  kite boarders and windsurfers zigzaging about.  It was a breezy day,  so the boats were fast and the music was loud.  This was easily one of the coolest things we saw in Croatia.  Its elegance and execution was admirable and enchanting.  What a rich contribution to the local character, something everyone can enjoy,  a new experience every time.

We lunched at a fancy, modern glass decor, fish house.  The menu was loaded on ipads, you select your language, and navigate similar to your music player.  Kinda fun.  We had some fantastic prosciutto and cheese to start. Clare had grilled fish and veges and I had a sou vid type prep of fish and veg. Both very good. For dessert was espresso and souffle and carob carrot cake.

After lunch we wandered across the bridge to check out the yachts. An impressive row of large sail boats and mini cruise ships.  There always seems to be that one ship bigger and more impressive than the rest.  In this case,  it was My Little Violet.  It's only 200,000 euros/week to charter. Who's in??

As evening set in, we returned to the car,  satisfied it had not been towed or ticketed. We traveled south a couple of hours to Split where we would spend the next 4 nights.

We opted not to get a gps with our rental car, relying on the free map we took from an airbnb and the map function on our smartphones.  We don't have data plans over here so no active navigation. Our only option is to plug an address into Google maps while connected to wifi before we depart, which will highlight our destination and the chosen route.  The embedded gps will track our position.  So,  instead of siri using her sultry voice to command my next move,  Clare wonders aloud and for the most part we do well.  Especially for free of charge.

Whenever your destination is in old town and the roads are on 10% grade and too narrow for a scooter,  Google loses a little reliability.  As we honed in on our place in Split, we found our way into a literal jungle of cobblestones and cars crammed in every nook and cranny, going up a steep ass hill,  blind corner after blind corner. Slowly moving farther and farther away from that little red pin on the map. At the top of a dead end street, there happened to be a spot we could back into.  We didn't move the car for the next four days.

Turns out we were pretty darn close and had no problem walking the rest of the way to our Airbnb apartment.

While inexpensive, the place was clean,  comfortable and in a great location, in old town,  right out side of the Diocletian Palace. The palace ruins have been converted into a bustling commercial area, open 24/7. Game of Throners, you would like this place.

On that first evening, we wandered into the palace looking for a late night snack.  In the center square, there was a DJ and lights set up for a final party of the holiday season.  It was quite the juxtaposition within the stone walls and ancient ambiance. But,  then again, that seems to be the normal mix here in Europe.  Preserving and respecting the relics of the past, but evolving them to continue to be relevant and useful.

We landed at a little joint, Zinfandel, with live music inside, but we sat out to avoid the smoke. I had a few beers, some slivovic and some tasty home made ravioli. It was a busy weekend night,  and it was clear that the palace is a place that locals and tourists alike frequent.

For breakfast in the morning, we grabbed a pastry from the pekara and had coffee on the expansive prominade in the middle of town, watching the large ferry boats and cargo ships come and go.  We would do this every morning of our stay.

By the time we were done with coffee, we were ready for lunch and headed to Bokeria, a spanish market inspired place that served us amazing squash soup, drizzled with olive oil,  yogurt and toasted seeds. The salads looked great,  but were only ok. (Croatia, not big on the whole vegetable thing.  At least not at restaurants.  You can see gorgeous stuff at the open air markets, but something is lost in translation).

After lunch, we seized the warm, calm,  sunny day to walk along the coast. A board walk stretches for a few miles to the south,  beaches mixed with cafes, and lots of people enjoying the day. I couldn't resist the urge, so I stripped down to my speedo and went for a dip.  The folks wearing parkas certainly out numbered those in the water,  but it was not bad,  and certainly refreshing. This would be the only realistic opportunity to swim in the adriatic on this trip, so.

We stopped at a little cafe on the water for a drink and to watch the sunset, perched over the water. Spindly clouds providing contrast and color. Boats trolling by. And then Guantanamera started playing,  and all was right in the world.

When the song ended, and the sun wasn't below the horizon yet,  it started playing again, this time matching the sunset  perfectly.

The next day for lunch,  we visited a place that food celeb Andrew Zimmern considers one of his favorite restaurants in the world, Villa Spiza. It's a hole in the wall inside the palace, seats about 10, most of which are at a counter overlooking the small kitchen.  The menu changes daily based on what's available and in season.  The two cooks are also the waiters and the bussers.

We shared what was probably our best croation salad, (greens beyond iceberg! ), and I had the deer meat ragu over pasta and Clare had the chicken pasta. Both were super fresh and tasty....but also croatian, so heavy, too large of portions and very meaty. We walked it off with a hike up the hill toward the north and then a walk along 'Olympic way' (I made that up), a seaside promenade with commemorative bricks for all of the croatian Olympians  (and Yugoslavian??? dated back pretty far). It was a very windy day,  so the sailors were out,  including the croation Olympic team.

We cashed in early that night in preparation for an early morning ferry to the island Hvar.

The ferry was large,  accommodating both cars and big trucks. We left our car in it's spot in Split and walked onto the boat. It's design was symmetrical, allowing it to be driven from either end,  eliminating the need to back in and out of the docks.

Clare and I donned our jackets, rain gear,  hats and gloves in order to sit outside on the roof in relative comfort. It was a windy day, and cool out,  so most people were down below in the salon.  Only the intrepid smokers joined us up top. The sea was pretty big that day.  I'm not a sailor, ill equipped to judge the actual size of the swells (nor confidently stomach them), but they were big,  and the boat was rocking and banging. After about an hour and having passed all the barrier islands, the capitan and several crew came storming out of the bridge and frantically ran across the top deck,  next to our seats,  to the controls at the stern. The boat slowed, rocked and groaned,  they turned the thing, now pointed at our destination. In another hour we were on shore.

We landed at the small port just outside of Stari Grad. We walked the few KM into town. It was windy on the island, too, and due to the season, not much activity.  We wandered briefly through the old streets.  Stari Grad is one of the oldest cities in Europe.  We found the open restaurant, which was cozy and inviting.  They cooked us a calzone and lasagna in the wood fired oven. Comfort food desperately needed by these land lubbers.

We later wandered around the point, along a path leading out of town in the direction opposite the port. There were swimming platforms built all along the sea.  Looked nice.  On this day, waves were crashing over them.

Strolling back toward town,  we stopped at a little terraced place.  We stepped inside, empty, but american folk music filled the space. When the owner emerged, he explained the history of the small building on the sea.  Serving originally as a one monk monestary, later a fishing shack,  a quarantine ward then finally a cafe bar. There was a disco ball hanging from the wooden ceiling, supported by ancient stone walls.  They throw parties here every few weeks year round. The next one,  in a couple days,  was going to feature a short film shot during a party in that same place in the early 80s, when the now owner was just a teen, tending bar.  Sounded fun.

He explained that he keeps his place open year round, and organizes various events from time to time in order to get the community members together in the slower months. It was a shame we didn't have a day or two to spend with him and take his offer to show us the island.

We walked back to the port and boarded the final ferry to Split. It was dark windy and chilly, so we decided to ride inside in the salon. It was like riding in a cafeteria and you couldn't see out. We cozied into our booth and listened to The Cartel. Around the time the first graphic beheading description was taking place, the boat really started to rock.  And it was hot in there. I couldn't take it.  I grabbed my jacket and ran outside.  After staring at the wall for a while, I was able to pull it back together. The wind had been blowing hard all day, the waves were very large and the boat was rocking, let's say,  extremely.  Looking over toward the railing, the moon would apear high in the sky, in the next instant, it would dissappear, in a flash, below the rail. Up down, up down, up down,  in a trace of light, fast.

We eventually made it back safely, all the romance of working on a boat wiped from our imaginations.

That night we returned to Bokeria again for dinner.  After soup, we shared a pistachio gnocchi. Yum.

That night a rain cloud hovered over the city, crashing thunder and lightening unabated. It was frightening.

In the morning we pried the car from its spot and headed down the coast toward Dubrovnik. This section of the coast was the most scenic. High cliffs, islands, misty rain, rays of light over the water.

Bosnia and Herzegovina has a small section of coastline in order to operate a port.  We decided to have lunch while passing through.

Arriving in Dubrovnik  (or Kings Landing for those into Game of Thrones), was less of an ordeal as there was simple parking close to our rented room.

We only had two nights here, so our explorations were brief. The first evening, we wandered through old town, looking for dinner.  Dubrovnik is very touristy and expensive  (on the cruise circuit, but none this time of year). The old town is more of a tourist trap than a community space as in Split. Many things were closed, including all the restaurants we hoped to visit.

We happened across an indian joint tucked away and,  gasp, didn't hesitate to enter. Have you ever seen a croation restaurant? No? Ya,  well we were tired of it after a couple weeks.  We ordered no meat,  the dishes had a lot of flavor and we were satisfied with the change.  It wasn't great indian food,  but it was great in that moment.

The following day we shelled out the exorbitant 20 bucks a piece to "walk the city walls". There is a pathway on top of the wall surrounding old town, leading in and out of the turrets and providing great views. There is a big map inside the old town that shows the location of all the mortar blasts, burned down structures etc from the war in the early 90s. You could see much of this destruction from the top of the walls, in the areas that weren't repaired or reconstructed. Now serving as sanctuary for stray kitties. We played spot the kitty, and were impressed by how many we could find. Poor kitties.

At this point we were done with the croatian food, especially if it was going to be over priced, so on this night we ate at a Thai place in the Grand Excelsior hotel. It was mediocre, to be sure,  but again a welcome change.

It was pouring rain by the time we were done, so we popped into a place back in old town for one more coffee and dessert. It was a charming lounge, feeling like the lobby to a tropical hotel. It provoked a nostalgic vibe on our last night in Croatia.

It again rained and thundered all night.  In the morning, we packed up and headed inland to Bosnia and Herzegovina.