Zagreb to Plitvice

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The train rolled into Zagreb on track no. 1 about eight-thirty this morning. Our first task was to find out how to travel from the train station to the bus station as our destination was the Plitvice National Park. Plitvice was established as a national park in 1949 and in the '70's UNESCO declared it a world heritage site. The only way to get there is either to rent a car and drive, or take a bus. The trip is two to two and a half hours.

Plitvice is near the Serbian border and it was here that the first shots were fired in the terrible war between Serbia, Croatia and others in the early '90's. I'll talk a bit more about that later.

We went to the information desk. A young woman greeted us. "How do we get to the bus station?" I asked.

"Go out the front door," she said, "go across the street and catch the number 6 tram. Get off at the third stop. The bus station is across the street."

The next task was to get some money. Thank goodness there was an ATM sitting beside the information desk. ATM's certainly make life easier for the traveller. Interestingly almost all the ATM's I have seen here give you the choice, with the push of a button, of reading the instructions in the local language or in English. Many give several language choices.

We walked out into the bright sunshine. The air was cool, but not unpleasant. I looked around for a kiosk where I could buy tickets, but saw none. "I'm sure," I thought to myself, "that I can buy tickets from the driver.

The third tram that arrived was number six. We climbed aboard. When the driver looked at me I held up three fingers and passed a 100 Kuna bill to him. The exchange rate was a bit over six to one. The driver handed me three tickets and change. I didn't bother to count the change as I was more concerned with grabbing an overhead bar for balance. I didn't want to end up falling on my face if the tram lurched forward.

The information lady was right. At the third stop we saw the large bus station just across the street. Climbing off the tram we made our way into the station, looking for a ticket booth. It was a few minutes after nine. At their information counter I ask, "Where can I buy a ticket to Plitvice."

The lady pointed across the station, "Over there," she said. "The next bus is at three o'clock."

I had a sinking feeling. Three in the afternoon meant a six hour wait. True we could look around the town, but frankly, I was tired and didn't want to walk around town this particular morning.

We crossed the station to the ticket booth. "I'd like three tickets to Plitvice," I said.

"That will be .........................." and I am sure I heard her say 1089.00 Kuna. Dorothy also thought she said one thousand. I started to peel hundred bank notes on the counter.

"No," she said, "one hundred eighty nine."

"Wow," I thought, "what a difference in price.

"What time does the bus leave?" Nancy wanted to know.

"Nine-thirty," she replied as she handed us our tickets. "The bus is at B5."

"That's in fifteen minutes," Nancy said, "we will have to hurry to get to the bus."

And, indeed, we did hurry as we had no idea where B5 was located other than it was outside. Finally, after two trips into and out of the station we saw where we were to board the bus ... and we had all of five minutes to spare. Hurray!!!!

The bus was quite nice. I was reminded of bus travel in Chile as there was the driver and also a ticket agent aboard. The ticket agent checked our tickets and rode with the bus selling tickets to those who boarded the bus as various stops along the way. People stand at designated locations and wave as the bus approaches and climb aboard. The bus will seemingly stop anywhere a person wants to get off. One man yelled "STOP!" in the middle of the country. The bus made a quick stop and the man got off. There was absolutely nothing in sight except woods and meadows.

Zagreb is located near a range of mountains. Those readers who are familiar with the Shenandoah Valley would find the mountains just north of Zagreb familiar in appearance.

I was surprised as how little of the land we passed was being farmed. A large majority of the land is scrub or forest. Some land was under cultivation, but not nearly as much as I expected.

Marks of the war are still evident in places. We passed a number of houses sitting empty, burned out and scarred by bullet strikes. Our guidebook said these are houses whose owners were Serbians that fled and have not returned. It was Serbia that invaded Croatia. The Serbs who were living in Croatia fled or were killed. It is a sad period of history in this region.

The bus stopped near the hotel where we had reservations. Needless to say we were happy to be there. After checking in we went to our room, Red 206, and unpacked.

"You are lucky," the lady at the registration desk said, "we have had three days of rain, but today there is sunshine and the forecast is for sunny days through the weekend.

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Photos

Zagreb railway station
This is the most beautiful setting for a train station that I have seen.

Abandoned, war damaged house
It is very hard to get a good picture from a moving bus with a digital camera. By the time the camera boots-up the opportunity is often gone.

Comments

[Justin]

Thanks
For taking the time to relate your experience, this was very helpful in letting me know what to expect on my upcoming trip.

[philip]

very helpfull
looking forward to come to croatia and visit plitvice