I open my eyes. Pure, azure sky welcomes me back in the world. I look around. Where am I? Ah yes, Croatia. It all comes back to me. I sit up in my sleeping bag, surveying the scene. Tucked away, hidden from view I can see the bay, in all it's glory. Feeling rather satisfied with myself, I decide to celebrate by eating. The previous day (or was it the day before?) I purchased a loaf of bread, which I proceeded to eat, washed down with flat carbonated water. Ah, the simple joys of travelling on a shoe string budget. So, hampered in my desire to shower, by the distinct lack of a shower, I packed up and walked to the highway.
I crossed the bridge, finding a rather small (read: exactly large enough for a small car to stop, if said car was outfitted with rally brakes) pullover area, decided to stand in/on/beside the railing and try my luck. Whilst I was waiting for someone with exceptionally good brakes, I noticed a cruise liner doing a 180° turn. After approximately 1 hour (I travel without phone or indeed a watch), I managed to get a lift with a driver going all the way to the Bosnia and Herzegovina border. Didn't know that Bosnia and Herzegovina had a 'small' strip of the coastline? Well, neither did I until the driver informed me that he was turning off just before the border. Ah. Well, as Felix and I had looked at a map of Moldova just a few weeks before, where we were able to discern that it was only 2km to walk, I decided that this distance was also the same. Little did I realise that the map I now had was at a much larger scale. Blissfully unaware of this, I set off. First, tried to hitch in the border area, but got moved on the guards. An interesting feature of hitchhiking north along the Croatian coast is that there are no rest areas for traffic. Like none. They don't exist. So, walking in the wrong lane, or more frequently, teetering on the side of the railing which offered protection from the traffic and trying to avoid falling down steep slope. Once I walked along an overgrown pipeline. After about 5hrs I ended up walking to a supermarket thing. Lucky for me they accepted my Croatian money in return for a delicious chocolate coated ice-cream. So, so hot outside...
More walking later, I found myself at a service station. Little traffic. I have made it about 50km. I walked about 10 of those kilometres. Feeling like I may not make it to Italy on time (all explained in future posts). Fairly dispirited, waiting in the 32°C sun. About 1 hour later, I actually get a car to stop. Who should be driving it but a Kiwi? Not only that, but an interesting one, who gave me a crash course in the troubled history of the Balkans. He had been here 17 years ago as a war photographer and stayed, now speaking Croatian and even had a Croatian passport. Actually, he was on his way to a funeral. This wouldn't be the last time that I would be picked up by someone on their way to a funeral. Strange, but also a testament to the kindness of humans, irrespective of their country of origin. So, he wasn't going any further north and so he ended up dropping me on the highway.
Further walking, I found a reasonable place to hitch from. After a brief wait I got a ride with two Croatian guys. They were both drinking a beer (the European 0.5L kind of can. Once you have had it you can't go back). However, based upon my observation of no other beer cans, a working seatbelt (still a novelty) and my extreme desperation for a lift led me to feel pretty relaxed about the situation. Especially when we dropped in to visit a friend of theirs and they gave me a beer (they also partook of another). Interesting guy, an artist. Was invited to go walking the mountains around the next day (implicit in this, the offer of accommodation and food. For a random guy. I am coming back as soon as I can Europe), but due to my rather tight schedule I had to refuse. We ended up back on the road, now taking some amazing country roads. So that it would be quicker? Not at all, was purely to show me the Croatian countryside. Fantastic winding roads. They had told me previously that they were heading to Split, which mean I had in 12hrs of hitchhiking gotten 150km. In conversation, it turned out that there might be a ferry leaving for Rijeka, 400km more north. He called and it would all work out! So, we stopped for more beer, the driver informing me that he wouldn't drink any more. "Good idea, could maybe affect your driving", I suggested. "No no", he replied "If I have anymore, I will stay partying in Split and won't catch my ferry to my island". Ah, of course, I thought. Anyways, we parked and I changed money, bought a ticket and walked on as the last passenger, before they departed. Perfect timing!
So, I walked around, wrote in my journal, but still felt restless. Walked outside and felt the cool spray of saltwater on face. I spied a group people, who looked like travellers. Were. Two were couchsurfers. Broke out the raki. Good chats and would end up going on to stay with Tobias and Kathrin in Heidelberg, Germany towards the end of my trip.We all chatted into the early hours and then turned in. The distant rumbling of the engines and the gentle rocking of the Mediterranean waves lulling me to sleep...
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