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Published: April 26th 2015
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The Cazmatrans express retraced the steps northbound up the coast. It was another glorious day. There was another slight delay on the Bosnian border. A car with Albanian plates was obviously of great interest to the border police, but a source of great frustration to all other traffic looking for a smooth passage. We followed the Albanian car into Neum. The bus driver expressed his displeasure at the cause of the delay, muttering his thoughts at the car in front. We bought a couple of bureks to snack on. We headed back into Split in the late afternoon. My original plan was that RNK Split would be playing at home on the Friday night, but alas their progress into the midweek cup semi-finals made it impossible that they would be the first evening game of the weekend. You can't win them all.
We were once again booked back into the same hotel, so it was a short walk back near to the Peristil. It was familiar turf. We had the same room too. It was a relief to be back in Split, after the overt tourism that Dubrovnik displays. There is no need to have too many concerns about inflated
prices in what is to all purposes, a working city. Tourists mingle with real life. An hour later, we were having a later afternoon refreshment on the Riva. We opted for our usual bar. Free nuts with beer swayed it. The sun was setting and the temperature dropped, so we left for the hotel. A schoolboy error saw me pick up the camera, but leave the rucksack next to the table. There was little of significance in it - I had all the memory cards in the other camera case and the Panasonic camera was on my belt. Still, a panic we could have done without. I raced back. It had gone. The waiter smiled. Don't worry my friend .... you are in Croatia. I felt even better about Split after that.
The backstreets and alleys of the Diocletian Palace were full of bars, but the previous weekend business had been slow. As we found our way around these now familiar small streets, there was more life. The temperature had gone up a few notches and the people of Split were coming out to play. The new "local" we had identified seemed very much in student zone, but unlike
their UK counterparts most are happy with a coffee or a coke. We had now settled on Karlovacko, as the beer of choice and if possible, Karlovacko Royal. It is new, a barman proudly announced. It hit the spot. We once again made our way to the Maslina for our evening meal. Creatures of habit. If only it had a branch in Dubrovnik!
After our omelette breakfast, we went for a long walk along the harbour on what would be the last full day. The weather had been in our favour all week and the blue skies predominated again. The coffee places on the new Riva were doing brisk business. F Marine was a posh coffee establishment and there was not a seat. In contrast, the filling station for motor yachts had no customers. The summer would change that. We had never seen a drive in petrol station for boats. The walkway had Olympic medalists embedded between the paving slabs - all the local medalists from Split were scattered beneath our feet. There was much activity in the yacht marina at the end of the bay. The charter companies were busy dusting down their charges and ensuring the fleet
was ready for hire, as soon as the summer weather set in. We watched with fascination, as a yacht was taken into the dry dock area for an inspection. In an operation that might have had a health and safety man pulling his hair out, the boat was lifted out of the water and given a jet blast to clean off a winter of debris from the underneath. The Sustipan park provided a view back over the marina, all the way round to the ferry port at the other end of the bay. The Peristil glowed in the sun. F Marine had vacancies on our return walk, so we settled down for a morning coffee. The only downside was the constant drift of cigarette smoke across our table. It is strange how easily as a country we have become accustomed to no smoking being the rule rather than the exception. Croatia will no doubt soon have the shock of banning the habit in bars and restaurants.
We dined at the veggie place up near RNK Split that we had discovered. The standard was just as good, a week on. An hour was passed in the nearby Joker shopping complex.
If you are ever looking for a Dirks Bikkembergs shop, you know where to come. We bought some snacks for the journey in the morning from the ultimate in supermarkets named Tommy. This wasn't just a local store, this was the best Tommy had to offer. We had been unable to see the full glory of Gregory of Nin before we left for Dubrovnik. He had been undergoing renovation and was firmly trapped inside some wooden hording. Gregory was a bit of a hero for Croatians, as he fought to have church services in the local Croatian language, as opposed to Latin. It is worthy of a number of statues all over the country. I suspect this is the largest. It used to sit next to the Peristil, but the Italians decided he should be outside the city walls at some point in World War 2 and he has been looking on in ever since. His big toe was worn - to touch it was a sign of good fortune. They should perhaps send Hajduk Split's first team squad down before the next game. The sport for the trip was not yet over. Futsal was now in our blood and
the for the second time in a week, we were back in the Arena Gripe. Our team - Torcida - were back in action at 1800 hours on Friday tea time. It was almost worth getting a season ticket. Well, maybe not!
Appendix 2 MNK Torcida 7 MNK Okruk 0 Futsal Croatia 2 HMNL (South) Date: 20.03.2015. Kick Off: 18:00 Location: Sports Centar Gripe, Split Attendance: 49
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Monique in Motion
Monique Nelson
Particularities of Architecture
Dear John and Miranda: I enjoyed your photos in Croatia; it made me want to vacation there. You are particularly good at taking photos of the particularities of architecture. Most of us don't focus on this, and try to get a whole edifice in rather than focus on the beautiful details. Great job! Best, Monique