Oh Croatia, I'm sorry. You deserve better than this. With your gorgeous wee islands, your sunshine and shliva. I should have blogged this, erm, last year when it was fresh in my mind so we'll just have to make do with what I can piece together using the hilarious diary I wrote and the dodgy photos I took.
When I last left you, I told you that I'd write about Hvar Island and what we did when we got there, so here goes.
We caught the 8.30am Jadrolinja ferry from Dubrovnik, and enjoyed the most relaxing trip along the coast. We'd brought a picnic, and were well supplied with coffee from the onboard bar. We started off sitting on the back deck of the ferry, but as the sun came up we realised we were at risk of getting mega burnt, so hid in the shade of a life boat and napped for most of the trip.
It seems like a lot of the crew use the trip as a way to get their dinner, so at each port of call the fishing lines went out baited with bread. They were pretty successful (I'm sure through years of practice), and there were a lot of silver-sided fish being whisked out of the water, destined for someone's table.
When we landed, around 5pm, we had to go and find out hostel (the Villa Marija). It was hot, hilly and we got so, so lost. After coming up to this roundabout a couple of times, we decided to follow the signs (arf!) and gave the eponymous Marija a ring. She was *so* helpful, and once we'd had dinner she came down to the bus station in her blissfully air-conditioned car and took us up to our room. My overwhelming impressions were that it was big, clean and there were comfy beds. I wasn't awake much longer after that!
On our second day in Hvar, after breakfast of coffee and omelettes, the main job was to book some tickets on the lunchtime catamaran over to Split for the next day. This is a super-easy task, as there are ferry companies all along the harbour and there are really clear signs so you know exactly which office to go into. That done, we went for a stroll along the coast to find somewhere for lunch. There seemed to be loads of cute wee cafes which put signs out on the street, and then you have to follow a wee path up the hill to get to them. It seems to be a successful ploy, because the Cafe Hula Hula was doing a roaring trade in cold beers, burgers and huge big salads. I had a tomato and mozzarella salad (the Italian influence is pretty strong in Croatia, which means the food is an interesting mix between calorific Eastern European fare, and well made Italian food) and I think Ollie had a burger of some sort. The cold beers were the important part!
After lunch, we headed up at zig-zagging path up to the old hill fort, which is still a fairly brooding presence on the skyline of Hvar. It comes complete with feet-thick walls and formidable fortifications, and some truly horrible twisty stairs into the dungeons below.
We strolled back down the hill to Hula Hula again, and had a swim to cool off and work up and appetite for dinner, which we, after a pre-dinner beer in Red Baron on the harbour, had in a nice wee local restaurant called Paradies (sic) Garden. Ollie had an enormous plate of meat, and enjoyed it immensely! I had a veggie stew with polenta and that was just as tasty. We finished off the night with some more beers at Red Baron (and I have in my notebook a note that reads "WHAT IS STOCK?!?!", which is either indicative of my frustration at not knowing what was in something, or just how much I'd had to drink by that point) and an almost-Italian gelato before turning in.
The final morning in Hvar was spent being patronised by waiters, who looked at me like I was crazy for asking for a wifi key, and eating what the cafe called a "Fitness Breakfast". This was a perfectly tasty bowl of yoghurt, cereal and fruit, but by calling it that they took all the enjoyment out of it.
We wandered round a ruined church, that looks like it had been neglected for at least the last century or so. It was all very poignant and sad, with weathered statues and broken headstones. I'm not 100% convinced we should have been in there, mind you, but it was pretty and no-one yelled at us.
After a swift lunch, and high-speed run to catch the catamaran, we were off over the water to Split! It only takes about 90 minutes to get to Split, and it seems like the boat was being used by folk who were fairly regular travellers. There were plenty of big rucksacks, but there was a lot of folk who just had handbags looking like they were off to do a bit of shopping. What a commute, it was really gorgeous, and we spotted a few dolphins breaking the surface of the water.
We managed not to get lost trying to find our hostel, thanks to the owners directions. Inchy Rooms is bang in the centre of the Old Town, and the owner Inchy and her son Boris are as welcoming a pair as two hostellers are going to find.
Split Old Town is amazing to explore on foot. It's a rabbit warren of Roman and medieval buildings and I completely fell in love with it. The great big foot there belongs to the chap below, St. Gregorius of Nin. Apparently stroking his big toe is good luck, which explains why it's almost worn smooth. He's a fairly imposing sight, and is famous (and sainted) for demanding that church services be performed in Croatian rather than Latin. This had the result of strengthening the church in Croatia (because folk knew what was going on in the churches) and explains the honking great statue.
This is the rather terrifying St. Lucy, who holds a pair of eyeballs (her own, fortunately) on a plate. She stands in the crypt of the Cathedral of St. Domnius in Split, which is an imposing building built around the Diocletian's Palace smack in the centre of town. There's a lovely square outside where we saw lots of live music that evening.
The ancient gods are still going strong in Croatia, this is a temple to Jupiter that, judging by the coins, is still doing a fair trade in wishes.
We had a fairly early morning and had a quick breakfast and coffee before a long, hot and completely ill-advised walk up to Marjan Park. The old proverb about mad dogs and Englishmen wasn't far off. It would have helped if we'd found the actual entrance to the park, rather than walking most of the way round it, before realising that if we didn't want to retrace our steps, we'd have to strike off straight up a hill through some very, very spiky undergrowth to find it. It was well worth it though, the views from the top were stunning, and I definitely felt that the pizza I stuffed into my face was well deserved!
One swim and shower later, we picked up our bags and headed on down to the harbour for tea. This came with a rather over-affectionate Bar Cat who spent much of her time on my knee, digging her claws into my leg through pure joy at getting fed bits of cheese. Totally my own fault, I know!
We then headed down to the port for the next leg of our adventure. An overnight ferry to Italy, in a luxury cabin, no less!
By "luxury", Blue Line Ferries seem to mean "no bunk beds, a telly, en-suite and bathrobes". Which was fine by me. a comfy bed at the end of a quiet corridor would have meant a decent night's sleep, had I not been OMGEXCITED! about the prospect of waking up in Ancona on the Italian coast.
Phew! Time for a cup of tea, and I can hopefully fill you in on Perugia and Rome later!
When I last left you, I told you that I'd write about Hvar Island and what we did when we got there, so here goes.
We caught the 8.30am Jadrolinja ferry from Dubrovnik, and enjoyed the most relaxing trip along the coast. We'd brought a picnic, and were well supplied with coffee from the onboard bar. We started off sitting on the back deck of the ferry, but as the sun came up we realised we were at risk of getting mega burnt, so hid in the shade of a life boat and napped for most of the trip.
It seems like a lot of the crew use the trip as a way to get their dinner, so at each port of call the fishing lines went out baited with bread. They were pretty successful (I'm sure through years of practice), and there were a lot of silver-sided fish being whisked out of the water, destined for someone's table.
When we landed, around 5pm, we had to go and find out hostel (the Villa Marija). It was hot, hilly and we got so, so lost. After coming up to this roundabout a couple of times, we decided to follow the signs (arf!) and gave the eponymous Marija a ring. She was *so* helpful, and once we'd had dinner she came down to the bus station in her blissfully air-conditioned car and took us up to our room. My overwhelming impressions were that it was big, clean and there were comfy beds. I wasn't awake much longer after that!
On our second day in Hvar, after breakfast of coffee and omelettes, the main job was to book some tickets on the lunchtime catamaran over to Split for the next day. This is a super-easy task, as there are ferry companies all along the harbour and there are really clear signs so you know exactly which office to go into. That done, we went for a stroll along the coast to find somewhere for lunch. There seemed to be loads of cute wee cafes which put signs out on the street, and then you have to follow a wee path up the hill to get to them. It seems to be a successful ploy, because the Cafe Hula Hula was doing a roaring trade in cold beers, burgers and huge big salads. I had a tomato and mozzarella salad (the Italian influence is pretty strong in Croatia, which means the food is an interesting mix between calorific Eastern European fare, and well made Italian food) and I think Ollie had a burger of some sort. The cold beers were the important part!
After lunch, we headed up at zig-zagging path up to the old hill fort, which is still a fairly brooding presence on the skyline of Hvar. It comes complete with feet-thick walls and formidable fortifications, and some truly horrible twisty stairs into the dungeons below.
We strolled back down the hill to Hula Hula again, and had a swim to cool off and work up and appetite for dinner, which we, after a pre-dinner beer in Red Baron on the harbour, had in a nice wee local restaurant called Paradies (sic) Garden. Ollie had an enormous plate of meat, and enjoyed it immensely! I had a veggie stew with polenta and that was just as tasty. We finished off the night with some more beers at Red Baron (and I have in my notebook a note that reads "WHAT IS STOCK?!?!", which is either indicative of my frustration at not knowing what was in something, or just how much I'd had to drink by that point) and an almost-Italian gelato before turning in.
The final morning in Hvar was spent being patronised by waiters, who looked at me like I was crazy for asking for a wifi key, and eating what the cafe called a "Fitness Breakfast". This was a perfectly tasty bowl of yoghurt, cereal and fruit, but by calling it that they took all the enjoyment out of it.
We wandered round a ruined church, that looks like it had been neglected for at least the last century or so. It was all very poignant and sad, with weathered statues and broken headstones. I'm not 100% convinced we should have been in there, mind you, but it was pretty and no-one yelled at us.
After a swift lunch, and high-speed run to catch the catamaran, we were off over the water to Split! It only takes about 90 minutes to get to Split, and it seems like the boat was being used by folk who were fairly regular travellers. There were plenty of big rucksacks, but there was a lot of folk who just had handbags looking like they were off to do a bit of shopping. What a commute, it was really gorgeous, and we spotted a few dolphins breaking the surface of the water.
We managed not to get lost trying to find our hostel, thanks to the owners directions. Inchy Rooms is bang in the centre of the Old Town, and the owner Inchy and her son Boris are as welcoming a pair as two hostellers are going to find.
Split Old Town is amazing to explore on foot. It's a rabbit warren of Roman and medieval buildings and I completely fell in love with it. The great big foot there belongs to the chap below, St. Gregorius of Nin. Apparently stroking his big toe is good luck, which explains why it's almost worn smooth. He's a fairly imposing sight, and is famous (and sainted) for demanding that church services be performed in Croatian rather than Latin. This had the result of strengthening the church in Croatia (because folk knew what was going on in the churches) and explains the honking great statue.
This is the rather terrifying St. Lucy, who holds a pair of eyeballs (her own, fortunately) on a plate. She stands in the crypt of the Cathedral of St. Domnius in Split, which is an imposing building built around the Diocletian's Palace smack in the centre of town. There's a lovely square outside where we saw lots of live music that evening.
The ancient gods are still going strong in Croatia, this is a temple to Jupiter that, judging by the coins, is still doing a fair trade in wishes.
We had a fairly early morning and had a quick breakfast and coffee before a long, hot and completely ill-advised walk up to Marjan Park. The old proverb about mad dogs and Englishmen wasn't far off. It would have helped if we'd found the actual entrance to the park, rather than walking most of the way round it, before realising that if we didn't want to retrace our steps, we'd have to strike off straight up a hill through some very, very spiky undergrowth to find it. It was well worth it though, the views from the top were stunning, and I definitely felt that the pizza I stuffed into my face was well deserved!
One swim and shower later, we picked up our bags and headed on down to the harbour for tea. This came with a rather over-affectionate Bar Cat who spent much of her time on my knee, digging her claws into my leg through pure joy at getting fed bits of cheese. Totally my own fault, I know!
We then headed down to the port for the next leg of our adventure. An overnight ferry to Italy, in a luxury cabin, no less!
Phew! Time for a cup of tea, and I can hopefully fill you in on Perugia and Rome later!
No comments:
Post a Comment