Diocletian & Some Artistically Placed Rubble
Early the following morning we finally arrived (alive) at our destination of Split, exhausted. Wandering through the winding streets in early morning fog and rain we soon found ourselves lost and suffering from severe symptoms of scoliosis. We were kindly and enthusiastically offered directions from friendly locals, but it wasn't until we asked a (fourth?) random passerby that we got anywhere-mostly because he is the nephew of the owner of the hostel. He called his aunt who then arrived to led us to our temporary home. But not before he and his companion sweetly offered us some special sugar-coated Easter type bread (Free Breakfast? I LOVE CROATIA ALREADY)
Wee spent the better part of the rainy and cold day at the small but gorgeous harbor where we wrote postcards, ate a picnic lunch of baguette and apple on the seawall. Too cold to bear the elements any longer we paid entrance to Diocletian's Palace. Stone cold, it didn't warm us up at all but did provide some terribly amusing moments for some sleep deprived adolescents. Highlights included the big toe of Gregorius of Nin, and some barren rooms with one of two pieces we began to call "artistically placed rubble" or "the latest rubble installation." It was almost as if the Tate Modern was preconceived of during the Roman period. My personal favorite was an empty banquet hall with a light shining on a sarcophagus in a corner with a description that stated in English, "this sarcophagus was used for secondary purposes." The adjoining book sale was equally enjoyable, especially in the fact that the only English translated texts available were racy covers of translated Jackie Collins novels. Against the pounding and decade late musical accompaniment (Celine's "My Heart Will Go On" and Cher's "Believe") and the spontaneous dance party it produced proved an excellent remedy to small bouts of homesickness. After an evening promenade on what we deemed EPCOT: CROATIA (it's so clean!) and of course picture taking with random locals and gelato we hit the sheets for an 8 am bus to Dubrovnik.
Wee spent the better part of the rainy and cold day at the small but gorgeous harbor where we wrote postcards, ate a picnic lunch of baguette and apple on the seawall. Too cold to bear the elements any longer we paid entrance to Diocletian's Palace. Stone cold, it didn't warm us up at all but did provide some terribly amusing moments for some sleep deprived adolescents. Highlights included the big toe of Gregorius of Nin, and some barren rooms with one of two pieces we began to call "artistically placed rubble" or "the latest rubble installation." It was almost as if the Tate Modern was preconceived of during the Roman period. My personal favorite was an empty banquet hall with a light shining on a sarcophagus in a corner with a description that stated in English, "this sarcophagus was used for secondary purposes." The adjoining book sale was equally enjoyable, especially in the fact that the only English translated texts available were racy covers of translated Jackie Collins novels. Against the pounding and decade late musical accompaniment (Celine's "My Heart Will Go On" and Cher's "Believe") and the spontaneous dance party it produced proved an excellent remedy to small bouts of homesickness. After an evening promenade on what we deemed EPCOT: CROATIA (it's so clean!) and of course picture taking with random locals and gelato we hit the sheets for an 8 am bus to Dubrovnik.