Tag / Split

Awoke to the sounds of a small but lively fish market directly outside our front window. A light drizzle added urgency to morning shoppers buying shiny sardines by the bucket. Shrimp and squid still glistening from the ocean. The air smelled of the sea.


We nibbled on pastries while we packed, and took a quick stroll in the rain to circle the palace one last time. Met South Africa-born Rosella to return our keys and then rolled our bags a short ten minutes to our car…Mother Nature put the drizzle on hold and kindly let the sun shine on us.


Zipped down the A1 towards Dubrovnik before veering off into Bosnia and Herzegovina. We were headed for Mostar, but all roads to Dubrovnik cross into Bosnia for a short part of the route…so why not experience a little of this country too!!


The crossing into Bosnia is noticeable, and stands in stark contrast with Croatia. The road to Mostar is narrow and winding, with little to see or do along the way. This country is clearly still rebuilding from the war that dissolved Yugoslavia. Half-built buildings are everywhere, seemingly frozen. We approached Mostar on a winding road out of the low mountains, the hillsides dotted with cemeteries filled with new grave markers, the marble still polished and shiny.


Mostar was busy on a weekday afternoon, but we made our way methodically to our hotel, circling the pedestrian zones to find the right path through. Our hotel is actually a dozen rooms in a Bosnian National Monument: the Muslibegovic House, built in the 17th century and preserving Ottoman residential architecture. With it’s Ottoman style furniture–a carved wooden canopy bed hung with red and gold silk–our room felt like a time capsule.


We set out to tour the nearby old town, a UNESCO world heritage site hugging the Neretva River around the iconic Old Bridge. Visited two very similar stone mosques: the Koski Mehmed Pasha mosque and Karadjozbey mosque. For a very reasonable 8 KM per person, we could visit both mosques and climb the minarettes. (Not sure if the same deal applies in the high season.) The mosques are small and simple, white walled with typical calligraphy and simple drawings. The prayer area (off limit to visitors) is covered with Turkish rugs, leading to the Mecca-facing mirab on the far wall. Above, a white dome, with simple drawings with green and blue and red. The entire room was quite and subtly lit in the afternoon sun. Like pointy spears, a minarette rose from the back corner of the mosque. A steep set of stone steps spiraled upward with no breaks and only the occasional tiny window. Unlike ornate church bell towers, these structures are not built to show off for visitors…they are utilitarian…a perch to project the call to prayer. Tiny narrow balconies at the top. A nesting pigeon was less than trilled at our visit…their lone white egg sat quite exposed on a delicate nest. Hopefully it will hatch soon.


Each minaret provided sweeping views of the river, the town, and the surrounding mountains. Still, these beautiful views were peppered with shells of bombed out buildings. Un-repaired concrete building show rows of machine gun bullet holes. Most of the old town buildings were topped with new or repaired stone roofs. The signs of the recent war were impossible to miss, but seeming part of the decor. Surely time will erase these blemishes, but for now they stand fresh.


Returning to earth, we strolled the Old Bridge and the old district around it. The entire district is a UNESCO world heritage site, and an influx of international funds has rebuilt this area and attracted a healthy tourist crowd. Stone topped buildings and cobblestone pedestrian streets follow the river. Shops are semi-artisan, but mostly an echo of a Turkish bazaar.


The Old Bridge is actually a New Old Bridge. Destroyed twenty years ago (1993) during the war and rebuilt in a sign of healing four years later. A simple museum and short video present the bridge as a symbolic victim of war. Its destruction and reconstruction are shown without blame, only sadness…followed by joyous rebirth.


We crossed the bridge, climbing its slick stone path. Elderly tourists clung to iron railing during their steep decent. Divers awaited tour groups to perform. Stone towers anchor each end. Fig gelato awaited us in the other side.


After a pleasant stroll up down and around the river and it’s tiny shops, we sat down for a beer and some relaxing people watching. This is not a town with a lot of sites to check off. It’s a strolling site…an experience. And part of that experience for us was simply pausing to take it all in.


Stopped into one of the historic Ottoman houses along the river. Dating from the 1600s, the Bišćević house is a quick glimpse of a traditional home along the river. Bright and airy with low, comfortable turkish furnishings.


In the evening, we ate at the hotel-recommended Šadrvan restaurant. Cheery service and hearty Bosnian food. We ordered a sampler platter to get bites of different dishes. Our favorites included ćevapi (a Bosnian natuonal dish or flavorful minced lamb and beef in a tiny breakfast-sausage shape) and cabbage wrapped around minced meat and rice.. For dessert, tufahije (another national favorite…a baked apple filled with nuts and honey). Finished with a strong Bosnian coffee (basically a variation on Turkish coffee).


Lured into an after dinner drink by a familiar mix of Rihanna, Adele, and Katy Perry. The old town shuts down early, but enough wandering folks to add visual interest. Cobblestones shone in the street lights.


Returned to the sound-isolated confines of our hotel. The silence made sleeping even easier…and sounder.

Welcome sun beams fell across the bed…the perfect alarm clock for an early start. Pastries from a nearby shop: cherry strudel and cheesy phyllo. Strolled along the Promenade, fresh and sunny this morning. Entered Diocletian’s Palace through the Brass Gate and into a cellar passage, lined with tacky gift stands.


The cellar route pops up in the center of the palace in front of our first stop today: Diocletian’s mausoleum, which is now the Cathedral of St. Dominus. The church is small, but has an impressive altar. Christian paintings and statuary share wall space with Roman carvings and stonework. Upstairs, the small church treasury. Enjoyed the irony of Freddie Mercury and Queen belting out “Somebody To Love” on the radio as we looked over sobering Catholic crucifixes and other iconic artifacts. Climbed narrow stone and them metal steps 200 feet above the cathedral into the bell tower. Impressive views of the palace and the city beyond. The Adriatic was an amazing blue with dramatic clouds above. Returning to earth…and into the earth…visited Diocletian’s crypt below the mausoleum…a small, brick-lined domey chamber with a well. Our final stop with our Cathedral ticket: the baptistery, formerly a Roman temple to Jupiter.


Stopped at the charming Figa cafe, with eclectic seating up and down the steps of a narrow street. A couple of cappuccinos well-worth the price for the fantastic people watching at this tiny crossroad. Two tiny black and white pugs popped out of Figa occasionally to greet guests and stake their territory.


Avoiding harsh midday lighting, we plunged into the lower levels of the Palace. For just 20kn, two portions are open to tour (to the west and east of the bronze gate just off the Riva). The west side is wide and open with thick columns topped with brick vaults. Interconnected square rooms with domed brick ceilings jutted off to the sides. Water dripped in dark corners.


The east side is still being excavated and restored, and this is strewn with Roman and medieval rubble. Some rooms are open to the sky, where buildings once stood. Two cats claimed a sunny spot near an ancient column. Water pooled from yesterday’s rain. Some rooms were set up as photo galleries, highlighting a series of international award-winning photographs. Apparently, award-winning means gross or depressing…or both. Glimpses of fluffy white clouds signaled time to return to street level.


Golden gate. Silver gate. Bronze gate. Iron gate. Fun to criss cross between them and find new corners to explore. Outside the golden gate, an imposing Venetian fortification. Did a mini bar crawl to relax and people watch. A beer at Luxor by the Peristyle. Crowds snapping pictures of men in Roman centurion outfits. (A flash of Monty Python makes me giggle.) Another beer at Fluid with an old, smooth Sade disc playing.


We caught some photos with the late afternoon glow. A guitar duo lured passers-by with British and American classics from Sting, the Beatles, and Simon and Garfunkel. Then back to Figa for dinner. Hearty risottos. A cheesy tortellini with prosciutto. Simple grilled sea bass let the quality fish shine through. A dense, fruit-cake-like “Split cake” for dessert.


Mojitos with a soothing club mix at Ghetto. Sat outside next to an ivy wall with white laundry drying above us.


One more evening (notably warmer) wandering quiet streets with more than 1600 years of footsteps before us.

Departing Rovinj under dappled morning sun, we drove through the Istrian Peninsula with its fertile fields, rocky cliffs, and low mountains. A Sunday-morning calm kept road traffic light. Pigs rooted in the fresh mud. Fig trees enjoyed the dappled sun. Grapes and olives fought for field space.


Stopped for a walk and a view from the tiny town of Motovun, with it’s stone walls and picture-perfect church carefully perched on a pointy hill top. A short walk from parking down below–a wise crowd control method–took us through an old city gate into the old town. A quick walk around atop the city walls provided sweeping vistas of the surrounding forests and farmland. Perfect place to pick off attacking marauders…none today unless you count the bus tourists! Just inside the city wall, grey stones bordered orderly back-yard vegetable gardens. We visited the small, quiet church and had a quick cappuccino on the wall before returning to the car.


Leaving the Istrian peninsula, we began an arched drive south along the mountainous spine of Croatia. Mountains and valleys were covered with tall thick forests. The road was modern and fast, cutting through the mountains with frequent tunnels. We passed through the three longest tunnels in Croatia…all over 5000 meters. The longest (Mala Kapela) was an impressive 5821 meters (3.6 miles). In the south, as we reached some high plains, the coastal mountains rose dramatically to the right, snow still clinging to craggy peaks. The mountains whipped up periodic cold showers.


Through one last mountain tunnel, we began our decent to the coast. Crossed an impressive fiord cutting it’s way up into the country. Low trees and brush returned. We entered Split on a narrow winding road. Following signs for the Center/Ferries we arrived at a parking lot on the large promenade near our apartment. There we met Zana, who walked us cheerfully to our home for the next few days…a cozy studio with sunny windows overlooking the dramatic old town.


As sun faded, we walked the smooth, still-wet stones of Diocletian’s Palace, the massive home of this Roman emperor around 305 A.D. Over time, the city and real life sprung up inside the walls of the complex. So today, you walk the narrow streets of the city, with temples and walls and arches from the palace at every turn. It is the ultimate and coolest example of re-use. It will be fun to explore tomorrow in daylight.


Dinner was a cozy spot (Redono d.o.o.) on a random street in the Palace. Huge glass walls provided views of the old building outdoors. A light, satisfying local red wine set a calm mood. Sea bass and John Dory were served on succulent pasta. A simple flan hit the spot.


We wandered the narrow streets briskly…the temperatures dropped to noticeably cold under clear skies. To warm, we ducked into eclectic Ghetto for late mojitos.