Balkaning it up, part II of you don't really want to know
28 JULY, 2007: SPLIT
After saying my goodbyes at Hostel Lika (not bad as hostels go), I headed to the station for some fun with Croatian trains. As usual, I got there quite early and smugly congratulated myself on buying my ticket the day before as I leafed through a very trashy novel I picked up at Lika because I had no wish to read Harry Potter for the third time in two days. Pride and smugness come before the fall though, because I was informed by the conductor that I needed a seat reservation. A seat reservation? Quite logical, but I had asked the day before if I needed one or not and was told that I didn't. Lies, lies. I could feel the panic welling up inside me. I had to get on that train! Backpack and all, I sprinted to the ticket office and between gasps told the guy (the same fellow who sold me the ticket the day before) to get me on that train or else as politely as I could. Seat reservation in hand, I was on the train in no time. Then another fellow and I realized that we'd been assigned the same seat. Back to the conductor. No problem, the seat is mine and the guy manages to find another one. Apparently this is quite common here.
The train ride to Split takes you through some spectacular scenery, starting from the lush green in the north and going down into the arid beige mountains and patches of green forest that drop into the blue, blue sea. Fantastic. The only problem was that the train was chock-full of loud children, which made it impossible to enjoy the views. The ones sitting with me were quiet and polite, but I wanted to strangle the 2 across from me.
Coming into Split is like walking through one's closet door and ending up in paradise. The Adriatic sparkles pure blue and the white marble of the city shimmers almost blindingly. I managed to avoid the vultures disguised as little old ladies trying to rent out rooms to unsuspecting and unprepared tourists and got to my hostel relatively unscathed. It was boiling hot though and it was a relief to be able to sit in the hostel's shady garden for a while. Discovering that my room had air conditioning made things even better. Another girl came in at the same time as me and we got to talking and I discovered that she had been living in Warsaw...small world! We made friends with some Brits and later a pair of Norwegians and cooked the worst pasta in the history of mankind for dinner before going out. Split nightlife is fantastic and we had a great time.
29 JULY, 2007: SPLIT
Because we got in quite late last night, my plans for an early start to my getting hopelessly lost exploring the city were foiled. No matter, I wanted to make sure that the others didn't leave me when they went to the beach, but they were completely dead while I futzed around. Finally, I figured they weren't moving for a while yet and so wandered into the city. Split is most known as the location of Diocletian's retirement palace, but there is evidence that there was an earlier Greek colony on the same site. When the palace was deserted after Diocletian's death, Roman colonists fleeing from the destruction of nearby cities settled within its walls and have been there ever since. It became part of the medieval Croatian state in the 10th century and remained so until 1420, when it was taken over by Venice and became a major port city for that kingdom. It passed into Austrian hands at the end of the 18th century, where it stagnated economically. With the establishment of Yugoslavia after WWI, Split became part of the Repblic of Croatia. The city was not heavily damaged during the war in the '90s.
Unlike Zagreb, Split is not a city of museums, but it is pleasant to walk around and explore. Roman ruins are everywhere and there are all sorts of fun little side streets. People hang out of windows and cats run all over the place and tourists snap pictures. Yes, it's a bit touristy, but it doesn't matter all that much. There are ways to get away from the crowds in the city, like having 38+ degree weather that sends everyone scrambling for the beach.
When my friends returned to consciousness, we headed down to a small beach as well. The water was a perfect temperature and color, but the beach left a little to be desired. I must say that rock beaches are possibly the most uncomfortable things ever. We did manage to get comfortable and soak up some sun after using half a bottle of sunscreen each. When we got tired of that, we watched the sunset and headed back to town for dinner. We wandered around for a bit, pausing to listen to a violin concert outside of the cathedral for a bit, and then stumbled upon the best pizza place in Split.
The evening consisted of a short night out with drinks and meeting a batshit insane Finn. That is all.
After saying my goodbyes at Hostel Lika (not bad as hostels go), I headed to the station for some fun with Croatian trains. As usual, I got there quite early and smugly congratulated myself on buying my ticket the day before as I leafed through a very trashy novel I picked up at Lika because I had no wish to read Harry Potter for the third time in two days. Pride and smugness come before the fall though, because I was informed by the conductor that I needed a seat reservation. A seat reservation? Quite logical, but I had asked the day before if I needed one or not and was told that I didn't. Lies, lies. I could feel the panic welling up inside me. I had to get on that train! Backpack and all, I sprinted to the ticket office and between gasps told the guy (the same fellow who sold me the ticket the day before) to get me on that train or else as politely as I could. Seat reservation in hand, I was on the train in no time. Then another fellow and I realized that we'd been assigned the same seat. Back to the conductor. No problem, the seat is mine and the guy manages to find another one. Apparently this is quite common here.
The train ride to Split takes you through some spectacular scenery, starting from the lush green in the north and going down into the arid beige mountains and patches of green forest that drop into the blue, blue sea. Fantastic. The only problem was that the train was chock-full of loud children, which made it impossible to enjoy the views. The ones sitting with me were quiet and polite, but I wanted to strangle the 2 across from me.
Coming into Split is like walking through one's closet door and ending up in paradise. The Adriatic sparkles pure blue and the white marble of the city shimmers almost blindingly. I managed to avoid the vultures disguised as little old ladies trying to rent out rooms to unsuspecting and unprepared tourists and got to my hostel relatively unscathed. It was boiling hot though and it was a relief to be able to sit in the hostel's shady garden for a while. Discovering that my room had air conditioning made things even better. Another girl came in at the same time as me and we got to talking and I discovered that she had been living in Warsaw...small world! We made friends with some Brits and later a pair of Norwegians and cooked the worst pasta in the history of mankind for dinner before going out. Split nightlife is fantastic and we had a great time.
29 JULY, 2007: SPLIT
Because we got in quite late last night, my plans for an early start to my getting hopelessly lost exploring the city were foiled. No matter, I wanted to make sure that the others didn't leave me when they went to the beach, but they were completely dead while I futzed around. Finally, I figured they weren't moving for a while yet and so wandered into the city. Split is most known as the location of Diocletian's retirement palace, but there is evidence that there was an earlier Greek colony on the same site. When the palace was deserted after Diocletian's death, Roman colonists fleeing from the destruction of nearby cities settled within its walls and have been there ever since. It became part of the medieval Croatian state in the 10th century and remained so until 1420, when it was taken over by Venice and became a major port city for that kingdom. It passed into Austrian hands at the end of the 18th century, where it stagnated economically. With the establishment of Yugoslavia after WWI, Split became part of the Repblic of Croatia. The city was not heavily damaged during the war in the '90s.
Unlike Zagreb, Split is not a city of museums, but it is pleasant to walk around and explore. Roman ruins are everywhere and there are all sorts of fun little side streets. People hang out of windows and cats run all over the place and tourists snap pictures. Yes, it's a bit touristy, but it doesn't matter all that much. There are ways to get away from the crowds in the city, like having 38+ degree weather that sends everyone scrambling for the beach.
When my friends returned to consciousness, we headed down to a small beach as well. The water was a perfect temperature and color, but the beach left a little to be desired. I must say that rock beaches are possibly the most uncomfortable things ever. We did manage to get comfortable and soak up some sun after using half a bottle of sunscreen each. When we got tired of that, we watched the sunset and headed back to town for dinner. We wandered around for a bit, pausing to listen to a violin concert outside of the cathedral for a bit, and then stumbled upon the best pizza place in Split.
The evening consisted of a short night out with drinks and meeting a batshit insane Finn. That is all.