I arrived in Split on a bus from Mostar, and was significanty whacked after the 6-hour ride, and the annoying border controls, where I was the only one who had to get off the bus for a closer inspection of my passport and luggage. Dodging the hostel touts, I made my way to the old town, where I had booked a cheap place with excellent reviews. I think the time in South America had given me a healthy rudeness facing unwanted attention, so I got into the habit of completely ignoring anybody who tried to sell me stuff or get me to stay at their overpriced shitholes. The hostel was the cheapest option I could get in this very touristy city, and I was lucky enough to get a room for myself, for there were also
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