Croatia means ruined!

15/08

Zagreb on a public holiday!

Arriving in Zagreb we hadn’t heard great things about its vibrancy but we thought we’d give it a try. Stepping out to explore the city we noticed that it was unusually quiet; everything was closed and there was no one about. But we, Tristan, Megan and I, persisted while Andy recovered from a bit of Sziget flu. Our first port of call was the Australian embassy where I hoped to pick up my new full Australian passport. Oddly located in a Shopping centre, we found the embassy to be greeted with a notice that told us the embassy was closed today because of a Croatian Public Holiday- this explained the quietness. Later we were to find out that it was a Croatian religious holiday whereby most people went to Church then spent the day with their families.

By this time it was lunchtime so we headed to the bakery for a customary burek which we ate in a lovely park overlooking Zagreb’s main square. We then decided to head to Zgreb;s famous Museum of Broken Hearts. Preiously a traverlling exhibition. The museum had now settled in Zagreb to display items that were donated by individuals which reminded them of a past relationship. All of the items had an attached story but Harros favourite item was the axe (see below). With everything closed we thought we might as well head back to the hostel to further our recuperation from Sziget and for the boys to cook up a salami pasta storm. An early night was needed by all so it wasn’t long before everyone was in bed.

16/08

Zagreb is open!

A new day meant high hopes for the openness of Zagreb- we thought any level of openness could have been better than the previous day. And it was. This time we hired bikes to explore the city. Megan and I equipped with new, Croatian step throughs and Andy and Harro equipped with Hero Honda Indian step throughs straight from the streets of Delhi. On the agenda was another visit to the Australian embassy, a stroll around Zagreb’s famous cemetery then some more recuperation.

Getting a passport!

Harro's Axe!

Off we went to the embassy and it was refreshing to see at the top of the escalator that it was open; it meant I was getting a passport. A few formalities later We were off on our bikes to the Cemetery some smooth navigation by Andos soon saw us face the Col De Tourmalet of Zagreb. With the 3 of us dancing on the pedals up the hill Andy was left trailing behind with his super bouncy seat. It wasn’t before long that we hit the summit and and as we turned around we noticed Andy was walking up the hill with bike in hand. A snapped chain meant the day was nearly overin bike terms for the big man. However, it didn’t stop us from investigating the cemetery where Tudjamn, father of the Croatian state is buried. Some other fascinating gravestones later we thought we should head back to the hostel after all, Andy really couldn’t ride any longer with a snapped chain – scooting was really his only option. But we bypassed the fresh Fruit and Vegetable market to buy some ingredients for Dinner- Mum’s Fattouche was on it.  Grabbing more burek for lunch round the corner from our hostel meant lunch and a movie to tick the off recuperation and eating as things to do on our list.  Another quiet one was had despite many attempts from the hostel staff to do shots of their horrendous home-made rakija.

17/08

With an enthusiastic “it’s really good” recommendation from Jake the Snake (which isn’t dished out lightly), we decided that on route to Split we need to bi-pass the Plitvica Lakes a UNESCO National Park and tourist stop for what seemed the entirety of Europe. We had organised a mini bus along with some English guys in uniform maroon beaters that picked us up from the hostel, stopped 4hrs at the lakes and then would continue on to Split. Marcos the jazz and blues guitar loving driver filled us with confidence informing us of how wrecked and hung he was from the night before, fortunately it didn’t seem to impede his ability behind a wheel and the 50 tracks on repeat of electric guitar solo seemed to accelerate the ride.

The lakes themselves, despite the numbers, where truly amazing. 18 blue, fish filled crystal clear lakes connected by waterfalls cascading over and between an ever changing landscape of rocks and vegetation. The walk around the area was pretty spectacular also with buses to take you through the less incredible uphill areas, floating boardwalks built out over the water and boats to transport across the largest of the lakes, words don’t do the place a whole lot of justice.

After an ambitious 8km adventure through the lakes, I think it was collective nap time for the remaining hours of the mini bus leg. We were informed from the English contingent that we missed some spectacular scenery but did wake for a brief stop at an obscure old fortress with some interesting characters dressed in chainmail and medieval drag. A chat with the man Marcos as he re-caffeinated gave us some insights into Hvar and Carpe Diem and how to retaliate if they don’t let you in. Thankfully there would be no need to employ the retaliatory super soaker full of urine.

We were dropped outside of the old town in Split as there’s no vehicle access and left to fend for ourselves, relatively map-less and with a tiered and not so savvy sense of direction. Eventually we found ourselves at what we thought was a hostel we had booked earlier, but actually the residence of Malena a lovely old lady who had an affinity for referencing herself in the third person and who appeared to be the leader of a league of coordinated old ladies opening up their spare rooms to travellers for a fee, escorting us around the corner to Ana’s house which we would call residence for the evening. With a complementary bottle of wine inside us and some dinner time suggestions we headed to a local restaurant for some amazing seafood and mixed grill. With the impending nights of Hvar debauchery we opted not to discotekka the night away and instead ascend the treacherous marble staircase back to Ana’s for some well deserved shut-eye.           

18/08

Split to Hvar

The next morning we were off to Hvar so the first port of call was the ferry ticket office. At the office we were greeted with a long line of people, clearly frothing to get to the islands for the week. Additionally, the greater congestion in pedestrian traffic of Split was attributed to what we approximate as 50% of the 18-25 Australian population all there to jump aboard their Sail Croatia boats. With tickets in hand, we were free to explore Split’s hold town.

Split’s Old Town is beautiful as it was settled by the Diocletian’s in the 293 AD. In fact, we were in Split at the time of the Diocletian festival, to celebrate the settling of the Diocletians in Split. There was Italian music in opera and various other forms, blacksmiths, shoemakers and roman guards lining the streets which made for a great atmosphere.

The time came and we made our way to the port to jump on the super fast ferry to our destination. 2 ½ hours of sleep later we were in Hvar Town and ready to settle into our home for the next few days. We made our way into the Old Town with the guidance of directions from Vila Majic but these directions led to imminent failure. We were left calling our main man Majic to collect us from some unknown location in Hvar’s Old Town. With our 4 large backpacks nearly falling out of the boot in his 1988 Volkwagen Golf we were driven up a large hill to a place we never would’ve reached on our own- predominantly because of the odd and evidently average directions. However, when we were led to our apartment we were stoked with our Hostel World choice. 2 bedroom apartment with a kitchen (most important with Chef Harris and Batts on tour) and 2 balconies, 1 overlooking the port of Hvar and 1 with a sweet outdoor setting.

When one is in Hvar, one parties. Or as Fenners would say, when Fenners is in Hvar, Fenners parties. So we hit Konzum, the local supermarket down the hill and first purchased 24 of the finest Lasko as well as ingredients to make Nachos. Eating Nachos, having a few beers and free drink cards in hand left us keen to test the local nightlife. Judging by the number of Sail Croatia boats in port, we suspected it could be a lot like heading to Chapel St but we persisted regardless. Bar hopping along the port to Kiva and Lion Bar saw us meet one of Andy’s high school friends. Hence we followed her and her Sail Croatia crew to the nightclub Venerandah, a place to be seen atop the hill overlooking Hvar’s Old Town. Hours of dancing seemingly to Swedish House Mafia’s greatest hits, further giving us a Chapel St vibe, wore us out so it was time to get some shut eye.

19/08

Hvar island hopping!

Faced with mild throbbing heads and not much sleep we decided to get wet as much as possible. And the best way we decided to do that was to hire a boat and check out the archipelago of small island off the Hvar coast. Stocking up on snacks we set off and stopped off the coast of the first island, Plankovac, lowered anchor and jumped in. After Andy snorkelled his way to through a small cove to discovering and creating some of his own sea life, we were off again to the main pebble beach of the island bypassing some of the most ridiculous boats we had ever seen- super yachts and cruisers some bordering on cruise ship size. Lying on the beach for hours on oversized bean bags in between quick dips in the chilly water ended when Harro was told off by an Italian boiler for some unknown reason. We abruptly left to the next destination which was Palmitiana, another popular destination for boats cruising around Croatia’s island in the Summer. As the hours passed, it soon became time to take the boat back to our man in the port. Navigating the boat back through choppy seas and multimillion dollar water craft we delivered the boat back in one piece before heading to Konzum to prepare for our next big Hvar cook up.

After a long day in the sun, sapping the energy of all aboard the small boat, it was always going to be an early night. But first, we all had to satisfy our craving for ice cream so it was a quick trip down to the old town before it was time to hit the sack.

As the two love birds went to bed Andy and I attempted to check out the night life, however being 20 beers behind everyone was disagreeable and the only interest came when we bumped into one Jane Larkin who was a tour guide on Sail Croatia… random.

20/08

We hit up this rad beach bar up called Hula Hula and swam for most of the day and people watched:

• ·         Extremely ripped gay dude doing ab exercises on his deck chair
• ·     An old man / pirate who had a deep cackle (see video) labelled Cackling Jack– He emerged from the water like Poseidon and proceeded to splash water on these two Bosnian girls who were made up to the nines trying to take a euro pose selfy in the shallows. He splashed water on them gleefully, they squealed and he cackled. Enjoyable viewing for all! Strangely he had a sail Croatia wrist band on, what a treat for some 30 Aussies on a boat.
• ·       Watching two English girls enter the ocean, presumably for the first time (noting that the Adriatic sea is flat) and a few ripples from a boat come to shore to the disdain of the poor girl she said “these waves are unbearable”
• ·         We have our Touch Football (Catey-Pooz) on tour and Finlay and myself were playing in the water with her when Finlay whipped the ball to me and I bicycle kicked it into a little kids head who snorkelling.

A trip to Hvar is not complete without visiting Carpe Diem – a club on an island off Hvar. Boats don’t start leaving there until 1:30am so we had a traditional carbonara (recipe from actual Italians we me in Zagreb) and commenced the pre-drinking. Andy’s obsession with purchasing awful low range spirits did not falter as the “New Generation” Blue Berry liquor shots flew down a treat. Arriving on Carpe Diem was impressive – huge dance floor, bars and swimming pools were scattered about. The only downside was the music. Three French girls we met in Zagreb who decided to leave after an hour of being there cited the music as the reason. We choose to stick it out in hope of a Sweedish House Marfia set, which never appeared. Luckily finlay’s two step came in handy to dance to the monotone beats. 6am came around and I was presented with two options get back on the boat with Megan and Finlay or go skinny dipping with Andy, I choose the boat. We got on a boat to the sight of Andy running off to chase an emotional connection in the water and we got home after some dawn photographs and Sally Pearson impersonations. Andy had the key to my room so it was a three way spoon with Megan and Finlay until Andy arrived home at 9:30am pissed as a skunk and raving about nudist activities in front of the Police.

The Wolfpack at Carpe Diem

On the way home from Carpe Diem

21/08

Carpe Diem Broken

In a world of pain, we pushed ourselves to get out of bed, on the bus to Hvar’s port town and onto the boat back to Split. All of us were utterly useless but Andy moreso; at almost any moment where we were sitting he would fall asleep then wake up in some sort of nonsensical daze. But in some way we made it to the port town with plenty of time up our sleeve. It was not long however before the ferry was ready to board even though Andy thought that the ferry in the port was not the Split ferry even 5 minutes before our scheduled departure time. 2 and a half hours would provide some valuable sleep time for the wolf pack. Off the ferry in Split, we made a decision to skip Dubrovnik for several reasons- to avoid more Sail Croatia Australians, to stop being ripped off by Croatian tourist towns and to get to Sarajevo, which all of us were looking forward to.

We found an overnight bus to Sarajevo which ticked all the boxes so it wasn’t long after a bite to eat that we were on the bus. Andy pulled up stumps in the aisle of the empty bus while the rest of us went about sleeping in a more conventional manner. However our overnight bus didn’t provide an opportunity for sleep but just hourly disruption by both conductor and driver. But the worst was yet to come- our bus broke down and we were shifted to a new and more crowded bus. 4 hours later we arrived in Sarajevo in the early morning. Negotiating the dodgy bus station taxis we arrived at our hostel where the hospitable staff gave us couch and floor space on which we could get a few more hours after Bu-wrecking ourselves on Carpe Diem. Out of the hostel at 12 pm we were out on the town in Sarajevo, Bosnia.