Split Happens

Whimsy on a Wednesday Bringing You a Spotty tale from Croatia

I decided a holiday was in order, well, a break at least. I found a bit of a deal at a 5* Radisson Blu, pretty much on the beach in Split, Croatia. Breakfast included. A three night stay only but they say a change is as good as a rest and you know what, it really is. Besides, it’s only a two and a half hour flight and when I stayed in Texas people would drive that long just to go to lunch. I also know of people here who go to Spain for a day, set off at dawn and fly home at midnight. Just take a beach bag and a cossie and you’re all set for a banging day full of sunshine and sangria. I’ve always fancied doing that if you can snag a deal but it’s all the faff at the airport that puts me off.

Got to Split without any faff apart from when we had to do this new fingerprint malarkey. Mine didn’t work. I think it’s because I once chewed at my fingertips when I considered going off grid for an experiment. Perhaps I made them too shallow. Anyway, I had to queue up and do it all again at the main desk. So did everyone else. The people who set these things up generally don’t know their arse from their elbow.

They let me in and I asked them what thank you was in Croatian. I don’t know how you spell it but it sounds like koala. That was easy enough to remember and that’s all I needed at that point. The lingo is lot more complicated than the softer European languages I am used to and know how to say “make that a double” in. This was quite harsh with an Eastern European sound. I was told that the Croats can seem quite abrupt, and they are, but in a no-nonsense kind of way. I like that. Straight to the point with no flowers.

We decided to catch a bus into Split from the airport which took about 45 minutes. Once in Split we agreed (loosely) to walk the 40 minutes to the hotel because it was early and walking lets you see the area and get a feel for stuff. Since it was nearly lunchtime, a stop at a bar for some local cuisine seemed like a bloody good idea. I had a local dish called Cevapcici which is grilled sausages with flat bread, soft cheese, and a red pepper sauce. Nice. I then saw that they did ‘Chicken Wine’. I took the plunge and wondered if I would get a glass of wine or a poultry gravy. Turned out to be a rather strong rosé which I thought might hinder my upcoming walk.

The walk to the hotel was made worse than it should have been by the person following Google maps neglecting to change the travel option from car to person.

This can’t be right, I thought, my head spinning from this hot thing called sun at 24C beating down on my wintery English head. The heavy rucksack didn’t help either, or the fact it was all up hill next to relentless traffic. By the time I reached the hotel I made an abrupt Croat seem like Santa Claus. What made matters worse was that the bus tickets alone cost €20 and I found out I could have got an Uber for €13 from the airport to the hotel door!

“But where would be the fun in that?” and “This is more of an adventure!”

Maybe spring that kind of optimistic foolery on me a few days later when I’m settled in front of the sea with a sparkly water and a smidgen of joie de vivre. Not when I’m having palpitations and nursing broken feet. Timing is very important if you want to live.

The hotel was very pleasant with that air of commercial branding. A pool, a spa, and an expensive roof top terrace. The view to the left showed the glistening Adriatic Sea with cruise ships and yachts, and the right highlighted an enormous run down, empty building looming with graffitied menace. An interesting outlook.

“The beach is just down the steps, here you will find a promenade with bars and cafe’s.”

‘Koala”. I said.

I wouldn’t have said it had I been told there were 200 steps down. Particularly when I’d just walked all the way from town. It was when I had to go back up them on my return that I started to cry.

My next meal went down beautifully as I looked at the sea whilst eating a Pasticada. I asked what the word is for saying something is good, because the beef braised for hours in red wine made life worth living again.

“Dobra”

“Pasticada, dobra. Koala.” Fluency was beginning.

I thought how funny it would be to have a character called Debra Dobra and I could feel a limerick coming on. I then found it seriously un-funny when they kept bringing me tiny glasses of wine. I thought the first one was a mistake or the waiter had been taking a swig on delivery.

“Have you run out or something, love?”

Turns out that wine measures in Croatia are only a 100ml. The sort of amount you’d rinse your glass out with first. Or your mouth. And that came at a costly €7. The prices here surpassed Blighty and that’s saying something.

The old town is very beautiful. Reminiscent of Venice without the water and bridges. Lots of little alleyways and bistros tucked into corners. This is the main event and where you will find all the big spenders from the liners on walking tours. I don’t mind a walking tour as I like to sneak a bit of free info where I can, but in the height of summer when they are all over the place led by insufferable ex -teachers wielding giant pom-poms on sticks, I get agitated. Thankfully, it wasn’t so bad and I had enough room to witness Dalmatian singers harking in Diocletian’s Palace.

My first experience of Croatian ice- cream wasn’t the best. They are way too fancy. Exaggerated to a level that becomes a chemical intrusion. I was frightfully disappointed. I’m used to the unmatched ambrosia of Italian gelato or a nostalgic British Whippy with a flake and strawberry sauce. Not this stuff. However, I found a better one later, tucked away with his simple recipes. A holiday without a cone is no holiday.

I walked up and down the Dalmatian coast at a rate of around 20,000 steps a day and didn’t see a single spotty dog to make a wish upon.

I took two small prints from the ancient palace walls because this is a new found thing that I want to do to remember a place and help fund my wish jar. I will be selling these prints for the price of a chicken wine in the near future.