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Published: July 22nd 2006
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Belltower in Split
We spent a good 25 minutes here midday because the strong breeze at the top helped us to forget how hot it was. It also made my skirt pull a Marilyn Monroe a few times. Oops. The title of today's journal has a dual purpose: first of all, it describes the very long bus ride from Pula to Split. Secondly, Madonna's "I'm Sorry" was playing quietly on the bus as I got my first glimpse of Split from the opposite side of the coast at dusk; it struck me well, and I pulled out my iPod to listen to the rest of the album until we pulled into the bus station.
I have been here for the past three days, arriving late on Thursday evening. I did not think that it would take so long, but, to my credit, this is because the girl at the reception desk in Pula had told me that the trip along the Dalmatian coast would take roughly six hours. Uh, try ten. Yeah, wasn't expecting that.
I got to the Pula bus station early, so I wrote in my (paper) journal a little bit while I waited. It's so funny the random songs you hear in public places here: "Good Stuff" by the B-52s was on the overhead radio at the bus station 😊.
Honestly, I love bus rides. I could be totally happy if somene would drive
You're such a fruit
At the fruit and vegetable market me around for hours on end, as long as I have good music and can look out the window. This was a problem on the Pula-Split journey, since my iPod only runs about 6 hours. Panic.
There was an older Croatian man with white hair and a pink shirt sitting next to me for roughly 80% of the ride. He was friendly and (maybe too) talkative, and his mission in life appeared to be to instill in me a love of Croatia. He insisted that Dalmatian music was the best and wins all sorts of awards, and when I agreed, saying that I like Dalmatian music, he would reply almost indignantly, "No! It is the best!" We talked about where we were from, and every time we returned from a 10 minute break to our same seats, he would triumphantly announce something like, "Aha! We are together again! America!" It was a long ride.
I got a little lost trying to find Al's Hostel. The old town in Split is built around and including Diocletian's palace, so the place is a maze of high Roman building walls, making it easy to lose your way. Some well-intentioned old ladies
Split
View from the belltower saw my pack and said, "Hostel?" and pointed in one direction... which ended up being to the wrong hostel. Luckily, the young owner, an Aussie girl named Maria, was nice enough to call Al and take me to the bar where he would meet me. He showed up a minute later, as did Tim, another backpacker who I had seen wandering around lost while I was with Maria. Tim, 37, is from England and works for Walker's Crisps (basically the UK version of Lay's Chips). He joked a day later in the hostel, "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's crisps!" (Told you I would have to write that one in, Tim. If you are reading this, email me: I have more stories from after you left).
Al is a friendly, sarcastic Brit who opened his own hostel here in Split 3 years ago. He showed us to our rooms (which were NOT smelly, thankfully) and then brought us to meet the rest of the guests at a bar. We bar-hopped a bit, ending up at a place called Puls, but after 2 beers and no dinner, it was time for me to go home. My roommates the
At the top
Tim, Mike, Vince, and I keeping cool. (Vince's sword is just visible in his pocket, keeping with tradition). first night were great: our 6-bed dorm consisted of me, Tim, Mike (a N.Z. guy who works in London), Vince, and Sarah, both from Australia. Vince showed all of us the wooden Magyar sword he had bought in Budapest. About a foot and a half in length, it was labelled in pen with all of the cities he had visited on the trip, and it accompanied him everywhere, even to sleep.
The next morning (Friday), I woke up earlier than the rest to get some breakfast from the market and explore the city in daylight. I sat on the steps near the cathedral, eating my fruit and strudel, writing in my journal, and listening to the Dalmatian quintet perform for the surrounding tourists. By the time I got back, the guys had gotten up (Sarah had checked out already) and we set off to see the city. It was already blazingly hot by 10:30 am, so we headed to the cellars of Diocletian's palace, which were cool and uncrowded. After a snack (they sell Zdenka here, the Croatian equivalent of Happy Cow cheese, and I was overjoyed) and some water, we shucked out the few kune it cost to
Hippie chicks
The girls from Finland were 18 years old (but could easily drink us under the table!) climb the belltower of the cathedral. This was another smart move: the views were fantastic and the breeze was very strong. Once the obligatory landscape shots were taken, we just kinda hung out there for a good 25 minutes. Why go back down when the temperature was so nice up here? Back at the bottom, we decided that it was too disgustingly hot to do anything but go to the beach, so we packed a picnic lunch (Zdenka comes in ham-and-cheese flavor, also :D ) and sunned on the coast across from Bačvice for the rest of the afternoon.
Mike had to leave to catch his flight. I had told him earlier that day that he reminded me of Sean Astin, the actor who played Sam the hobbitt in Lord of the Rings. He replied that he hoped his feet weren't quite that hairy ,).
Vince, Tim, and I attempted unsuccessfully to nap at the hostel. It was so frickin' hot: you would just toss and turn and spread eagle so your appendages wouldn't meld together with sweat. Yuck. Finally Tim brought out his speakers and iPod and we spent a lovely few hours talking music and listening
A bigger Radiohead fan than I?
Mira's arm tattoos are fantastic! to stuff like Oasis and The Who and mashups, which I've only recently discovered. Tim's music taste is very much in tune with mine, and he surprisingly said, "Here is something that you will love" and played this song that I've been trying to find the name of for ages now. (It's by a NYC band called the Scissor Sisters, but it sounds just like early Elton John).
We ate a great dinner at a place called Pizzerija Maslina that's hidden behind one of the old city walls. The 3 girls from Finland who were staying downstairs from us accompanied us. They were all only 18 and were very funky dressers: bohemian-meets-punk with dreadlocks and pierced nasal bridges. (Tim was kind of gawking the whole night: "I'm like 20 years older than them! They're like little dolls!") True, Mira, with her Princess Leia dreadlock buns, baby face, and tattoos, could have been a Kewpie Doll designed by the Ramones. She could also drink all of us under the table! I obviously can't handle alcohol the way I used to, because I was about set for the night after all the wine from dinner. Tim asked, "Feeling a bit squiffy,
You can call me Al
I finally coerced the hostel owner to take a picture with me are you?" which may be the funniest English slang I've ever heard!
The next two days, I was a total lazy bum. I had mentally made plans to take a day trip to Trogir, but scratched that in favor of staying at the hostel (where I did dumb stuff like laundry and repainting my toenails) and spending pretty much all afternoon updating my blog and written journal.
Tim and Vince had left Saturday morning, so I went out with two of the new girls in my dorm for dinner that night... and immediately wished that the guys were still there. I dunno... all of their wishy-washiness and complaints about the restaurant and, oh God,
inabiility to read a map ... I just did not click with them at all. I was happy to be on my own again Sunday evening, when I boarded the catamaran that would take me to Korčula island.
More on that (and further photos of Split) next time!
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anonymous
non-member comment
How are you able to charge your ipod over there? Or are you?