We woke with a combination of relief and maybe a bit of disbelief that we were on our way to our next-to-last country, Croatia. After Croatia, it’d just be London before we’d return home to our kitties, friends, and meals that don’t involve french fries or pita bread. But first, getting to Croatia. We started at our locationally challenged hotel somewhere between Budapest and Vienna, but since all we had to do was get to the airport by 1pm or so, it didn’t really matter. So we slept in a bit and grabbed a ride on a hay cart in to town to where we could get a taxi. Ok, ok, it wasn’t quite that far out; the hotel just called a taxi for us.
From there it was the usual blur of airports and lounges and waiting until we landed in Split, Croatia. We found a taxi outside the arrivals area, and gave the driver the hotel name and address that we had. If anyone from Hollywood is reading this and is looking for an absolutely archtypical heavyset, sullen, slavic guy… we may be able to put you in touch. Our driver pretty much exuded weary disgust. He didn’t know the hotel. Podstrana was a big area. How could we not have a phone number? And so on. He wasn’t angry, and certainly didn’t refuse to drive us, he was just kind of grumpy about it.
We eventually made it to Podstrana, a cute-seeming suburb of Split, maybe about 10km outside of the town center. It’s probably a great place to stay. We wouldn’t know. After our taxi dropped us and drove off (fare: US$70 for 30km, and yes, it was metered – we’ll return to this point in a later day), the Hotel Stipe informed us that there had been a mistake and that they didn’t have a room for us… but that they’d arranged on in another hotel. Fair enough. Except the other hotel was too far to walk. And a taxi would be expensive!
We ended up waiting about a half hour for a bus, and taking it three stops for about 5km to nearby Strobec, where we walked another kilometer or so to the new hotel. Which hotel was at least decent, but by this point in our travels we really didn’t need the extra time spent on logistics or extra bus/walk. So it goes.
By this time, it was 5pm or thereabouts. We hung out in the room for a bit, resting, and then headed down to the hotel’s bar, where Anna proceeded to win two games of Scrabble in a row, which was kind of irritating (though not unusual). Then it was dinner at Etupa, the local restaurant that the bartender recommended. It’s probably a great fish place, as evidenced by the fish on their sign, the live lobster tank, and the pretty much complete taxonomy of fish laid out on ice at the restaurant’s entrance. Not a great place for steak, though: my pepper steak tasted of fish, and Anna’s Beef Stroganov tasted strongly of fish. Those of you who know me will understand how I felt about that.
Finally, we headed back to the hotel, with tentative plans to make it out to the island of Hvar the next day, since in one of those small-world coincidences, a buddy who I’d met when rafting the Futaleufu was going to be in Hvar for a few hours during a stop on a cruise, and it seemed like it’d be entertaining to meet up for a bit.