Why I Love Croatia: Essay Three by BA Three

As promised, blagosphere, here is the third and final installment of our Croatian adventure. Danbot used to have long hair, runs entirely too much, and knows what I'm talking about almost 72% of the time - which is no small feat.


“We’re going to Croatia.”

 “Cool! Where in Croatia?”

 “Exactly.”

           It’s difficult to say when the trip to Croatia actually began.  For me, Croatia wasn’t just another country that I was visiting for a weekend.  It practically became a state of mind.  Even before setting foot in that country, I was in a state of perpetual mental planning and preparation: food, water, shelter, location, packing lists, backup plans, double check lists, barter for a goat?, all the what-ifs, haircut?... Sure, why not.

           “Where are we?”

Bus-Train-Train-Bus-Airplane-Bus.  After nearly 11 hours of travel, a 24-pack of Twix, antithetical passport guards, a RyanAir flight full of loud, crazy Belgians (partying next to me in the aisle), and screaming, kicking Irish kids (behind Molly’s window seat.  I think this was the one case where taking the middle seat was actually the best option.  Kevin wins, yet again), stamps on stamps, and a confusing currency withdrawal, all we could ask was “where are we?”

              “What brings you to Europe?”

                Before I continue, I want to elaborate on the passport guards.  We were in line at the passport check before departure and Molly is the first one to go.  The passport lady asks a few questions, takes one look at Molly’s passport, and commences a lengthy tirade at Molly for not having a student visa (the very student visa that we didn’t need since our stay in the EU wasn’t going to last longer than 90 days).   Meanwhile, the guard sitting next to little-miss-devil-incarnate looked bored out of his mind, with his cheek propped in the palm of his hand.  He nonchalantly waved Kevin and me to his desk and joked with us about life in Belgium as flames and the gnashing of teeth continued to spew from the adjacent desk.  Kevo and I get waved through the doors with a smile.  Five minutes later, the doors opened and out walked poor Molly wearing the what-have-I-done-to-deserve-this?-look that you usually see on lost puppy dogs.  If you hang around Molly long enough, you get to see this face fairly often (see blog post concerning pants). [it's always me...]

Now, back to the question at hand: “Where are we?”  The answer was relatively simple at the moment- we were on a bus headed towards the coastal town of Zadar.  It just didn’t feel so simple.  What was this land surrounding me? Dry scrublands spanning for kilometers, mountains exploding upward in the distance, a machine gun pillbox…what did we just pass?  Seriously, what is this place? It didn’t take long for us to realize that signs of war hang on this country like shadows cast by a conflict that lingers closely in the past.  Nonetheless, we were here and we could only go forward with our plans.

"3 Tickets to Plitvice Lakes, please."

You know you’re going to have an awesome Friday when your breakfast is comprised of apples and ice cream.  That, and not 20 minutes after leaving the hostel, we get to witness a mob of tourists pour out of their bus and start shoving parked cars off the road.  No, it wasn’t your standard Friday-morning riot (would’ve been cool, though!); the bus just needed some wiggle room.  Next step: purchase supplies.  In Croatia, there isn’t a better place to shop than Konzum!  They have it all- from dense bread to I <3 Hrvatska bandanas.  Fully stocked for 3 days of wilderness survival, we headed to the bus station.  A cameo appearance from Croatia’s very own female Clint Eastwood (we have photo evidence) and a three-hour bus ride later, we were in Plitvice Lakes National Park.  And that’s when we heard those iconic words: “Caaaaan I heelllpp yoouu?”.  Graying hair, pink-purple shirt, black fanny pack, and a face that reminded me a bit of a koala’s- Room Lady (never got her actual name) comes up and offers her place for “twweeeenntty Euuurrooss.”  No, thank you.  “I wait here thiiirrrtty minutessss”.  Ok, we’re going to go now. 

One thing you’ll never hear after the first night of camping: “I slept SO well!  Such refreshing sleep clearly deserves to be recorded in my Captain’s Log for future review!” 

I spent a good portion of the night shivering from the cold, yet still sweating due to all the nylon my skin came in contact with.  The dichotomy of it all was pretty gnarly.  Also, critters.  You could hear their footsteps in the leaves.  Pretty sure we heard a deer.  We also heard something creeping around the food bag.  Couldn’t tell what it was.  But alas, Mother Nature’s lovely minions let us be.

Bosnia or Bust

We were awake the next day by 04:00.  I was able to experience the glorious joy of peeling my arms and legs apart, already sticky from sweat and grime (it only got better from there).  We packed camp and readied ourselves for the day’s journey: go to Bosnia.  How were we planning on doing it?  Go east…very east.  One thing I didn’t really consider as we set off on our hike:  following a compass in one direction is great and all, but it doesn’t account for slight deviations made in the North or South directions, and those deviations add up.  After a few hours of hiking and straight up bushwhacking, we found a good resting point and checked the maps.  Mind you, the area we were in was absolutely beautiful: sprawling woods, chirping birds, massive rock formations.  It all just got… repetitive.  That was a bit unnerving.  That whole “Where are we?” question was resounding in my head more and more.  We decided to play it safe and start the return journey.

 I was on point to guide us back to the park.  It was difficult at times as I had to put all my faith in a little piece of magnetic metal to point us back to the direction of the highway.  In between telling stories to pass the time, I was thinking about how much supplies we had, how long it would last us, etc.  After the hike, Kevin and I both agreed that we would’ve been able to easily get by comfortably for at least 3-4 days with what we had.  I am thankful that Molly and Kevin were the ones crazy enough to go on this adventure.  Kevin’s wild stories about all his shenanigans and Molly’s choir-trained singing helped me take my mind off the unfortunate situation that we were potentially getting ourselves into.  I never really thanked them for that… cue overdue shout-out: {Thanks!, and keep on keeping on dude and dudette! \m/ }

Moving onward, we happened upon a stone wall and followed it a bit towards a creepy abandoned building/murder-shack next to a swamp.   One of the most hardcore NOPEs I’ve ever done and a 180 degree turn later, we were walking back to the wall.  I spotted a house (with intact windows) through the trees up a hill.  It was an insanely lucky find.  

Now imagine this:

You are sitting in your gazebo, in your quiet neighborhood, on a warm Saturday afternoon with your two daughters and your good friend.  Suddenly, out of the woods come three sweaty, dirty young adults with matching I <3 Hrvatska bandanas, large hiking packs, and probably a severe case of crazy eyes, admitting to camping in the wilderness and not having any idea of where they were. Yup. 

I’m pretty sure the guy thought we all had severe mental issues for thinking our plan was a good idea (I still think it was a great idea, just needed a little tweaking).  Anyway, he showed us that we’ve managed to hike off the map that we had and then directs us to the highway.  About three miles later and we’re all sitting on a bench near the pizza bistro where we ate at the night before.  And I kid you not, this is exactly what happened: a car pulls up, window slowly lowers, and… “Caaaan I heeellpp yoouuu?”  This lady is persistent!  We smiled and shook our heads no, shortly erupting into laughter as Room Lady and her husband drive away.

“Guys, I think we’ve just found Google Images”
Sunday morning: hot breakfast, HOT COFFEE! And we were ready for more waterfalls.  I definitely saw people who recognized us from the day before.  I particularly enjoyed watching everybody’s reactions after they smelled us.  Glorious.  I didn’t mind.  I was busy thinking about how much I could get fined for jumping into the pristine water and whether or not it was worth it.  You see, the government doesn’t want the “mineral content” of the lakes to be messed with, so they banned swimming in the lakes.  Yet the park runs ferry tours.  DIESEL ferries.  Go figure…

After we had our fill of immaculate, natural beauty, we headed to the bus stop for our ride to Zadar.  And lo and behold: “Whhhyy you no liikkeee my rooms?”  Room Lady is a trooper, I’ll give her that.  Probably spends a good deal of her time stalking that bus stop.  I bet if you go there now, she’ll be there.  Same outfit, too.  She changed clothing just as much as we did that weekend (we didn’t).  We explained to her how we were staying in a “place” a little ways “off the road”.

Zadar (Reprise)

The bus arrived, we got on, and I experience a T.K.O in the back row, waking up in time to watch as we rode over the appropriately named Dalmatian Mountain range.  We got back to Zadar and checked into Hostel Elena.  I asked the owner why it was named that.  He looked at me and smiled as he said, “it’s named after my daughter”.  This man = Champion.  Right after check-in, we headed straight west and dove into the Mediterranean Sea.  This was my first full-body contact with water since Wednesday night.  That’s nearly four full days without a shower.  Pretty righteous. 

The rest of the evening was vastly enjoyable; we walked around the Old City, debated the benefits of having an underwater forum, checked out souvenirs, ate ice cream and seafood, and watched the sunset.  

My time in Croatia was a monumental moment during my summer abroad in Europe.  I love the country, the culture, and the scenery.  I would do it all over again if I had the chance. Oh, the infinite wonders of Croatia!