Points South

The next morning found us stuffed from last night, in need of an espresso and anxious to see more of the beautifully rugged Croatian coastline. So forgeting the coffee hit off we went on the coast route towards Pula.
The water lapped at the coast just a few meters away, little villages nesttled against the mountains as they tumbbled into hte Adriatic, colorful wooded boats topped with nets and floats bobbed by the shoreline.

The weather was a lovely 70 degrees and sunny, the islands off the coast bring a feeling of both tranquility and expectation to the scenery. Kilometer after curvy kilometer went by with Kelly reading descriptions of the wonders to be found in lovely Pula. It was quite obvious that we were late summer visitors, perhaps too late, as many hotels past by were closed for the winter as were colorful restaurants. Few cars, less trucks, no tractors, no farms, but no sprawl either, no disconnected suburbs with no purpose or reason. Occasionally we would see a house on the hill above the sea apparently in process of being built, with no roof, no windows, no doors but finished in every other way. A curious and unexplained sight. The further south we got the more of these projects popped into view, a sign of coming prosperity? Or something else? Much later an explanation from a new friend the operator in a Split launderette, “Those were Bosnian houses, the people left.” I was wordless as was Kelly. The war that wouldn’t go away.

I can honestly say there were no straight sections of the road for many, many hours, the day grew long and still no Pula. Around the next bend a larger town somewhat north of Pula, a bridge crossed to get to Centreville and a look see for an available stop for the evening, we had given up in the dim light of late afternoon.

A What In The Middle of Town?

On to Pula in the morning after the traditional Croatian breakfast of every German dish you can think of and the finest Italian espresso you ever had. Down the rugged and winding coastline, kilometer after kilometer the crystal clear Adriatic waters gently lapping at the rocky shoreline. Not many beaches in this northern coastal part, none at all for many, many miles. Minute villages with red tile roofed houses right at the seafront, their foundations wet with the sea itself.

Little double-ended fishing skiffs of their unique design in reds and blues and yellows dot the water. Nets hung up to dry and piled on the bows as well. A beautifully scenic drive.

I exit the car often to clammor over the rocks and stare down into the water for starfish or a crab but only see the rare small fish darting behind the granite rocks. It is as though this was created yesterday, no moss, no sea life at all at times, no seaweed, no shells, no tide line at all. Back in the car along the lonely road to Pula. We stop in a larger town on the sea

Croatia comes along

Oh dear I’ve not posted in weeks again. Alas, I will continue…off we went the morning after the Milano experience, what Opera, what teatro La Scala, what food! Anyway we had a fine time in Milano and were off to our next stop…where?! Pula on the coast of Croatia! Beautiful Pula with the Roman Colesium DOWNTOWN! Oh the joys of Roman archetecture and Japanese tourists. More about that later, the drive there on Italian and Croatian freeways was easy and quick as it could be thanks to the smoothest pavements in the history of highway making and few cops to slow the flow. Croatia made it’s first appearance on its border with Northern Italy. At first merely another modern city on the broder (Triest) then the short dash down the ruggedly beautiful coast to spend the first night in a petite hotel in the seaside village of Isola. The room was fine and off we went in this somewhat LESS than sleepy little village-by-the-sea to fetch a place for dinner. Most offerings that day were closed as the tourist season was officially over and many hotels, shops and restaurants had folded up in anticipation of colder days ahead. One was open but had no guests so was rejected as we have LEARNED to “watch the trade” when dining in less than familiar surroundings. Back at the hotel disappointed, a drink and a nap before diner seemed appropriate after playing on the highway all day. Back out after dark at a true mealtime brought only an additional open dining opportunity or three as we searched high and low the village streets, alas, no diners in any of them. Then a genuine “find”. A gentleman of somewhat enebriated status (drunk as a skunk is a phrase) walking his friend’s dog happened across us gazing at a menu and we asked “Have you a good restaurant suggestion”, in a heavy Slavian accent and somewhat slobbering reply he said “Follow me, I will show you.” Off we went thru the alleys and narrow streets to be delivered to the door of the self-same restaurant that we had earlier rejected. Needless to say we had a FINE meal of local fish and pasta and enjoyed ourseleves enormously (no pun intended) and discovered too the joys of Croatian wines. Tomorrow…Pula