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Published: September 8th 2010
Dubrovnik
View from the top of the castle wall. - Peljesac Folk Tale
As it happens, a friend of mine called Dave has family connections to some land in 'Nakovana', a village somewhere far off the beaten track in Croatia, population 4. Here, a few years ago, some scientists discovered an ancient Illyrian Cave - Spila Nakovana - with perfectly preserved artifacts from thousands of years ago (treasure?). Knowing not much more than this, and feeling listless after so many big cities, we decided to go and investigate. We took enough clothes for one day only and headed off from Split for the adventure. It ended up taking 5 days (I'd figured on two) and despite all the signs being against us, ended up being the most memorable part so far.
Croatia is beautiful. Its coastline
Birds Eye View
Of the Old Town, Dubrovnik yawns lazily for miles along the Adriatic Sea, boasting picturesque islands and stretching peninsulas. The shape of Croatia is quite unique, it follows the coastline as the country gets thinner and thinner, getting pinched and squeezed by the mountain range to the east until it peters away into nothing and becomes Montenegro. It becomes so thin that no trains head any further south than Split, it's only buses on winding roads.
We left our luggage in Split and headed to Dubrovnik by overnight bus. We paid for 2 nights in a private apartment in Dubrovnik, and were evicted after one. First eviction so far, my fault. I am no expert on traditional Croatian laws, but if the act of boiling water in someone else's kitchen is a faux-pas, then I faux-pased in my boxer shorts twice at the same time. It was kind of scary actually. As i was preparing breakfast and coffee without a care in the world, the hairy landlord came in screaming and literally threw the boiling water at the sink. Not in the sink, AT the sink. Water everywhere, Croatian vulgarities flying and a wide-eyed fawn in the corner unable to believe what was happening
Get the point?
The cave was supposedly at the top. (that was me - there was no fawn in the kitchen, although there were a creepy number of animals around the house and garden including turtles, tortoises, cats, chickens, geese, rabbits...) I sulked off to my room thinking the worst was over, but he came back and stuffed 250 Kuna in crumpled notes into my hand and told me to get out within ten minutes. Karina got out of the shower moments later expecting breakfast, but finding only me - speechless, clutching a handful of money and with my jaw somewhere near the floor.
I wish I could explain more about this story, but I am afraid that it is such a mystery to me that I hardly know what to say. I also wish he'd caught me at the end of the meal so I could have at least eaten it. If someone out there in the cyber world knows what I did wrong, please inform me.
Anyway, with nerry a place to stay, we decided to head for the cave. Spila Nakovana. Dave's Cave. Who needed Dubrovnik's castle's steep cliffs dropping into the piercingly blue Adriatic Sea as a backdrop for one more night? Not me.
Olivier and Alain
The cyclists from Quebec who were riding all the way through Europe. You might say their bikes would have been too tired. Get it? We headed off on a long and winding bus ride along the Peljesac Peninsula to a small town called Orebic. Coastal, pretty, and only one mountain range away from the ancient Illyrian caves that had been haunting my dreams.
The town was small and the sun was setting. I asked at the information counter for local knowledge about the caves. He took one look at my sandals, rugged beard and thin arms. "It is very dangerous in those mountains. An Australian man like you once went up into the mountains. We found his bones five years later. There are snakes and wild boars up there." Scare tactics, I thought. I didn't need any more hindrances, I inquired about a the cheapest accommodation in the area instead.
Soon, we were walking the one hour coastal road to Perna, where there were apparently tents for hire. We arrived as night fell, and were refused entry due to leaving our passports (safely) in Split. Fortune smiled upon us in the form of some nice French/Canadian cyclists who lent us a spare tent upon hearing our plight. It was becoming clear the Peljesac Gods didn't want us up there, but now nothing
Lunchbreak
Not a bad spot to rest a while. On the way to the top. was stopping us.
We woke to a campside breakfast with our Canadian friends, and soon were off, hiring bicycles to make the journey easier. I had taken a photo of a map of Croatia the cyclists had, and had zoomed in on Nakovana so we would know the way. Seemed pretty easy. Get to the top of the hill, on your right. It turned out that the journey was among the most memorable bike rides I've ever taken. Firstly, we headed off along the coastline with the the beaches on our left, mountains on the right, and wild grapes vines, olive trees and mulberries all along the road side. Soon, on a 9 degree gradient, we began to climb with each push of the pedals improving the view until we could see endlessly in both directions.
Finally, after a few hours of uphill struggle in searing heat we arrived at the mountain top - Nakovana - which after reassuring ourselves was definitely some kind of village with water for sale, was actually just a 500 metre stretch of nothing. Nothing at all except a turnoff marked "Archaeological Site".
We expected the cave to be right there, but
The View
We had started on the beach near Karina's left hand. instead, in absolute awe, we discovered the deserted streets of an abandoned little village. Intricate stone walls and streets, with a few houses too. It reminded me a lot of Pompeii, except without the worn paths of a million visitors, litter, or an entry fee. Just a purely untouched, abandoned village. And these trails stretched off in every direction. It was breath-taking. I have since researched the area and found that it is one of the few remaining untouched archaeological treasures of Europe. Archeologists claim it dates back to the Neolithic Period (8000 years ago). There is great potential for developing tourism but I am glad we got here first.
Although we were a little nervous about a wild boar somewhere, we wandered the streets in a sort of reverential silence. It was unbelievable how much effort had been put into building it, and now it was just empty. Eventually though, our thoughts returned to the cave. There had been an inhabited looking house back at the turn off, and we decided to try our luck and knock on the door for directions. We did.
This is where I wish I could say that the door opened, a
kindly old wiseman with bushy white eyebrows and sad blue eyes took us in, explained the best way to get there, enlightening us with the history of the area and filling our water bottle with the most succulent fresh water known to man, perhaps with a hint of olive tree extract for that extra smoothness. I really wish I could say that. You might even believe it. Why wouldn't you? But, truthfully, it went more like this: the door opened and a weighty, grumpy man opened the door wearing nothing but blue speedo-style underwear and a scowl. Ill-fitting underwear to make matters worse. He told us it was it was far too dangerous and too hot to even bother at this time, and that we should get moving back to wherever we came from because he wanted to go back to sleep. In desperation, I dropped the name of my friend in Australia but to no avail at all. He seemed pretty annoyed actually. He did however refill our water bottle, but alas, it was as unappealing as he was. He shut the door and we were left alone, on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, with
a cave somewhere nearby. We debated whether to continue, or to accept defeat. The fact that the rented bikes were due back played a small part in it, but we decided we had come as far as we could. We turned for home. I re-discovered that folk-story about John and Mary's failure long after we came back. It seemed fitting that we, too, never found the treasure we were looking for.
But the trip had been amazing, easily one of the most rewarding things we've done so far. Cycling up the mountain made it feel like we were privileged to the views, and that we had earnt the entrance to the village. Sure, we never saw the cave. But nobody else had for the past 2000 years anyway until the explorers did. We weren't disappointed at all. Except with the old man's tap water.
The cycle that had taken so much energy to get there took only about 15 minutes on the way down, and as the sun set, we slept the night on the beach exhausted. With a very long trip to Serbia the next day, we were gonna need all the sleep we could get.
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Oh my god dont tell me I am the first to comment on this blog! Well as always I thoroughly enjoyed this edition and could feel that croatian sunshine oozing warmth into my cold perth bones! I also felt quite palpally your dissappointment at not being able to access the caves yet laughed a lot about the grizzled man in his cock jocks telling you to to get your aussie arse out of there that alone is part of your amazing adventure too and all a part of the amazing tapestry of your journey!!!