Introduction
Croatia
With a short flavour of Slovenia and Bosnia and Herzegovina
"A tree is not a tree but a signpost to another realm, a spectral thing full of strange suggestion." Thomas Ligotti, Songs of a Dead Dreamer, Penguin, 2015).
Trees are magic. It is difficult to understand how people ignore them. Once we are in the hilly slopes of Istria peninsula we realise the importance of trees in this region. In Croatia, almost half of the national territory is covered by forests. A unique feature, most Croatian forests are in its natural composition.
This was my first time in Croatia, and it has been one of the most memorable places I visited during this journey. The colours of the sea and the mountains, the never-ending natural forests and the people's kindness and intelligent humour were all factors to love Croatia. Indeed, there have been a few negative aspects: the crazy driving on the narrow highways, the tendency in certain tourist places to regard people according to their potential to spend money, and (this is not Croatia's fault) the many problems I had with the bicycle here. For the first two, little could be done. As for the bike, it was in Dubrovnik were I met with Ivan the Saviour, the owner of a bike-shop who changed my fortunes for the rest the voyage.
In Croatia I made the most important break of the trip. Estelle my wife flew from Spain, we rented a car and spent a great week together on the islands and also in Bosnia and Herzegovina before I resumed my cycling ten days later.
This country has a queer quality, which is not easy to explain. I sometimes felt uneasy in Croatia, and it had nothing to do with their kind people or the gorgeous places. It was like losing control over things. Something I was no longer able to manage. It was a weird connection with the surroundings, something beyond the forest and the stones and the water. A silent message coming from a dark place.
And the trees, those uncanny trees.
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| Cemetery near Stolac, Bosnia and Herzegovina |
Day 48: Trieste (Italy) - Rijeka (Croatia)
I decide to go directly to Rijeka instead of riding three or four days on the coast of Istria peninsula. I will miss some nice seaside towns suggested by Eurovia8 online guides but the weather is still unstable and I don't want to have the misadventures I went through in Catena with the storms.
Most important, I have a date in Dubrovnik with someone very special. Estelle will arrive there on 2 May for my birthday. So today I cycle directly to the first important city in Croatia and go through three countries in one day.
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| On the "Giordano Cottur" bike path |
After breakfast with cheerful Christina, I find the way up through the streets in Trieste. Then I join in an upper neighbourhood the green way bike path "Giordano Cottur". It is named after a famous Italian bicycle racer who won many stages of the Giro d'Italia and the Tour de France in the 1940s. Today is Saturday and there are a few cyclists and families walking on the way. Little by little I find myself alone with the trees. Asphalted in the first section, this "ciclabile" is amazing and follows the route of the former Trieste-Hrpelje railway, dismantled in 1966. During 21 km I ascend 670 meters on slight but constant gravel slopes in Val Rosandra. The views are breath-taking. I am completely alone now, but the forest and the birds are a great company. There are nice bridges and a few tunnels.
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| Goats on the cycleway |
One of the tunnels is crowded with mysterious silhouettes. Five or six goats look at me while the intruder carefully gets into their kingdom. I arrive at the place where the goats are resting in the darkness and grazing something from the humid walls. They don't move. Politely, I ask them, "May I go through?". They keep staring directly at me. I feel a little uneasy now. "Please, let me pass. I need to go on". I get off the bike and start walking slowly between two goats. They don't move. A third one is standing and blocks my way. I hesitate. Should I go back and look for a detour? I advance and I raise my hand. Softly, I pet the goat on its back. Nothing. Then it moves a bit backwards and I can proceed. As if they were speaking a silent language, all of them get out at once of the tunnel. I can go ahead.
I really feel alone now. I speed up and arrive at a deserted place called Draga Sant'Elia. Further up, a couple of dilapidated signs read "Confine di stato" to indicate the end of Italy and the border with Slovenia. Near Hrpelje there is a junction with a quiet road with only a few trucks loaded with construction materials. Further on there is the highway leading to the Croatian border crossing. I cover the thirty-kilometer Slovenian section of my journey in less than one hour.
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| Starod border crossing |
After the passport control into Croatia a long descent is interrupted by works on certain sectors. There is some traffic now and I need to be careful. I stop near a railway and sit on a dead tree to have a sandwich. It is a secondary dirt road deep in the forest and the place looks uninhabited. Suddenly, a car appears among the trees and speeds up on my direction. It passes very near my feet. I cannot see the driver, but he has the looks of... a goat. I stay still and try to finish my snack. Everything seems so weird.
I resume cycling down to Rijeka, a beautiful city-port on the Adriatic Sea.
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| With my host Ana Marija in Rijeka |
Ana Marija welcomes me at her apartment. At 27, she is a brilliant student at the Academy of Applied Arts in the University of Rijeka. In 2023-2024, she received the Rector's Award for Excellence for her dedicated work in her studies. She is a talented artist and also works as an illustrator, graphic designer and game developer. She has been elected to the Youth Council of the City of Rijeka and is an active participant in several organizations and events.
Staying with Ana Marija is an amazing experience. She is a good, curious and intelligent listener. She makes my life very comfortable in her neat and clean place. She cooks for me and she becomes an expert guide of the city. We have a great evening together in her flat. We chat, we laugh and we play music (she sings very well). I am so happy to meet Ana Marija. I hope that in the future she will find the right contexts to develop her extraordinary skills. "The best conductor", wrote Franz Werfel, "gets lost with a bad orchestra".
Day 49: Rijeka - Zadar by bus
I do not want to miss Estelle's arrival in Dubrovnik. In addition, there are frightening cyclists' online stories on the highway up to Zadar, with its traffic, narrow roads without shoulder and sharp curves. Following Ana Marija's recommendation, I take the bus to skip this section.
The views are superb: a Lunar-like landscape between the mountains of Northern Velebit and Paklenica to the east and the Dalmatian coast on the Adriatic Sea with its numerous islands. I see a few cyclists. I would not like to be in their shoes.
I think on my conversations with Ana Marija. With all her credits, she could be seen as a successful woman with a great future. But for her it is more important the pleasure of creating works that may evolve into other works. A dynamic art that develops into a new cosmos of intellectual and spiritual possibilities. "Success" acquires new overtones beyond the capitalist short-sightseeing of putting a price ticket to everything. I find new dimensions to the meaning of art thanks to her.
In Zadar I stay at Backpackers' Home. Agustín and his girlfriend are from Córdoba, Argentina, and they are in charge of the hostel today. Another young guy is from Mendoza and we play music together. There are also hikers and cyclists from Germany, France, Switzerland. Dinner is a huge dish of pasta with a delicious sauce.
Day 50: Zadar - Zaton
After a rocky start today (I hardly found the way out of Zadar), I ride almost all the time on the highway, sometimes with heavy traffic and trucks honking at me. They are not greeting, like later in Albania and Macedonia. They are trying to pass a message, "Get out of my way".
Before Šibenik I look for Zaton. For some reason, Lady G takes me twice to the coast and then back to the highway. It takes me almost two hours to arrive in Zaton, a beautiful small seaside village.
I stay at Marin's house with his brother Jere. They are very tall. They live here with their mother Ankica. They are a generous family and she cooks a nice dinner for all of us. After dinner, Marin goes to his Spanish language class in Šibenik and I hangout with Jere.
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| Between the giant brothers, Jere and Marin |
Day 51: Zaton - Split
I take breakfast with Marin, and I start riding early fearing a rainstorm that never happens. It is in fact a wonderful sunny day. First I ride on the loaded highway, then on side roads leading to a valley and later on a dirt road along the railway up to a junction with a nice highway without traffic. Then comes a steep ascent (739 meters) in a short distance until another highway leads to a mountain pass. There comes a colossal downhill with great views of the sea. I am very tired on the last fifteen kilometers. Already in Split, I waste a lot of time looking for lodgings. I finally stay at Ellis Hostel, who promises a "single room" (it is actually the shared room with six bunks but there is nobody there today). But it is new and clean, and I rest well here.
At night I dream with dark trees that block my way while I'm cycling. A stoney dirt road narrows while I advance and then I have to push the bike. I cannot see what is beyond the gloomy forest.
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| On the way up to Fort Imperial, Dubrovnik |
Day 52: Rain in Split
I stay in Split waiting for the good weather. I have the whole hostel almost for myself. I sleep well. I cook. I wash. When it stops raining I go out to visit Split, the second largest Croatian city and the most important one in Dalmatia.
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| Split old town |
The Roman emperor Diocletian (242-312), born to a Dalmatian family and known for his persecutions of Christians, enjoyed his last years in Split. He thought that he had lived a just and honest life, so he abdicated in 305 A.D. and retired to his homeland. Well-preserved Diocletian's Palace in Split's historic core is thus one of my visits.
After that I walk through the beautiful streets of the Old Town. It is raining again and the wind makes difficult wandering in the city. I visit the amazing Meštrović Gallery, with plenty of great sculptures by the master Ivan Meštrović (1883-1962). They have a definite art decó flavour but their impact goes beyond the decorative function. Among those with a religious reference, Job has an amazing vitality in bronze. However, I prefer the incredibly dynamic dancer.
Day 53: Everything started alright... (Split - Blato)
Great plans for today. The sky is clear and it doesn't look like rainstorms will be back soon. I want to take the ferry sailing to Korčula island, which arrives in Vela Luka. Then I will cycle along the island up to Korčula town and either camp there or in nearby Lumbarda. It is an alternative suggested by Eurovelo8, a glossy website catering for tourists with some useful information to cyclists. I think it is a good idea to visit the wonderful Croatian islands and also to avoid the heavy traffic on the Split-Dubrovnik continental highway.
I wake up early in the hostel and then take a quick coffee plus cheese burek in the nearby bakery (burek is a fine pastry originated in the Ottoman empire and ubiquitous in the Balkans). I notice that there is a leak on the front tyre and go quickly to a bike shop that opens at 8.00. The ferry will set sail at 10.15 so I don't have much time. The lady at the bike shop cannot help me. Ivan the mechanic arrives. He is off duty until the afternoon but he helps anyway and saves my day. I ride to the busy ferry port and have another coffee before boarding.
Sailing on the double-ended Jadrolinija ferries is a great experience. Off Split, the ferry sails south between Šolta and Brač islands, then leaves Hvar island to port and continues southeast to Vela Luka. It is a sailing of about three hours and the views are spectacular on a fine day like this one. I speak to other cyclists. Suzanne and her father, from Poland, are spending two weeks in Italy and Croatia. They started in Venice and had to take buses many times because of the bad weather.
Approaching Korčula island I am eager to start cycling so I go down to the ferry's garage level to be ready when they open the hull. Surprise! It is raining here. I land with the bike. I wait. I hesitate. The rain is coming down even harder when I start riding again.
Twelve kilometers on the way I have a new flat tyre, now on the rear wheel. I change the inner tube. There is only one spare tube left. I hope nothing will happen until I can find a bike shop. I resume riding, but not for long time. A couple of kilometers later I have the third flat tyre of today. Destiny? God's will? Just bad luck? It rains again. I feel rather frustrated.
I stop a few cars to see if they can help me. Some meters behind me there is a sign with the number of a roadside assistance service for cars and bicycles. I call and they come with a trailer. We go to Blato, an uninteresting village in Korčula island. The tyre repair shop is closed until tomorrow morning so I have to stay here. I pay a small fortune for the road assistance and an apartment. I have a pizza and go to sleep.
Day: 54: Blato - Korčula by car
Hello rain, welcome back. I take Alhmara to the tyre repair shop. A smiling Slavic giant repairs the tube. When I am ready to go it is raining heavily. I wait long hours in a coffee shop. Lots to learn from the Patience Skills subject.
I think on returning to Vela Luka and sailing back to Split to fix the bike's problems there. Speaking with someone on the neighbouring table I decide to go on with my previous plans. In the afternoon it is still raining so I arrange with a private driver to take me and the bike to Korčula, the main town on the other side of the island (named after the town). In Korčula it is still raining. But lodging here is less expensive. I stay in Dragan's Den hostel, where I am the only guest.
I visit the small fortified old town. There is a museum but they will not open until Monday. It is said that Korčula was the birthplace of Marco Polo, with Istanbul and of course Venice claiming the same honour. In the twelfth century, Korčula (Curzola in Italian) became a possession of the powerful Republic of Venice, and continued to be Venetian until the end of eighteenth century. In the local cemetery there are a few Italian names on gravestones of the 1870s-80s.
The legend of Marco Polo's allegedly Korčulan origins reminds me of other historical debates based on crude nationalisms, such as that of Christopher Columbus place of birth in Genoa, Portugal and elsewhere. Some people, including superficial journalists and politicians, think that the exploits of explorers, leaders and other celebrities are the result of the societies in which they were born. I think that in many cases it is exactly the opposite.
After walking through the nice streets of Korčula old town I buy some groceries in the supermarket and walk back to the hostel to prepare a great dinner: pumpkin soup, rice and goulash, kiwi as dessert.
Day 55: Korčula - Janjina
Scientists say the sun is shrinking. For me, today the sun is the greatest sky star on this bright beautiful morning. A short ride to Korčula's ferry port and half an hour later I am sailing the short distance separating the island from Orebić, on the Pelješac peninsula of the Dalmatian coast. During the twenty-minute crossing I meet two U.S. American ladies who are visiting Croatia. They say that I am "making history" with my journey. We humans love the role of heroes and sympathise with that of victims. We seldom consider the necessary part of the villain, without whom there would be no good stories to tell.
With some effort, I go up on the steep road to Potomje (highway 414). I ride first along the coast then into the mountainous center of the peninsula, surrounded by a glorious wild forest. An hour or two later I am on easier slopes and surrounded by vineyards. There are many wineries here, some appealing to tourists.
The best part comes after Potomje. The hand-made Dingač tunnel connects the village with the other side of the mountain, where the best-quality grapes grow to the sunny west side of the island. While I go down on a narrow road the views of the sea and vineyards are breath-taking.
Even if I am not drinking alcohol I understand those who appreciate a good glass of wine. I am told that Croatia has become increasingly well-known not only for its beaches but also for its wines. The varietals here include Plavac Mali and Pošip, while on the Istrian peninsula predominate Teran and Malvasia Istriana. After a long while I arrive at a scenic seaside village, Trstenik, and from there I go up to the highway again. Everything goes well now, and I am happy that I will arrive to Janjina more or less in an hour.
When I am near my destination I have a new flat tyre, the fourth one since yesterday. I don't have spare inner tubes anymore. I call my host of today, Goran, and he kindly comes with his car to pick me up.
Janjina is a jewel of a village. Goran's house is in the higher section of the town, where the houses are stone-made and embellished with plenty of flowers. He introduces me to his kind friends and neighbours. He shares his time between Janjina and Osijek, where he resides with his family. The place is wonderful and chatting with Goran is a pleasure. I forget my misfortunes with the bike. Furthermore, he is a very good cook and he also bakes a glorious bread.
Day 56: Janjina - Dubrovnik by car
Good Goran drives me and the bike to Dubrovnik. We cross the beautiful Pelješac bridge and take the road through the narrow coastline of Bosnia and Herzegovina (just 20 km) around the town of Neum. In the late seventeenth century, the Republic of Ragusa (today's Dubrovnik) was so afraid of the Venetians that it awarded a tract of land to the Ottoman empire, thus it could function as a buffer against attacks. That made Neum a permanent part of Bosnia and Herzegovina and divided the Croatian territory in two.
In Dubrovnik, we are faced with traffic jams on all its access ways. I say goodbye to Goran and stayed in the 365 Hostel. The common room is crowded. Tomorrow I will look for a better place. Estelle will arrive in a few days and I want to have everything ready for her: a fine bedroom, a hired car.
After lunch I visit the Red History Museum, located in the former TUP graphite products factory of Dubrovnik. It is a private undertaking initiated by a group of young entrepreneurs in the cultural field. The historiography of the socialist period in Croatia and in the former Yugoslavia is a highly contested discipline. From the beginning of the "dictatorship of the proletariat" after World War II, the historical narratives have been plagued by nationalist and ethnic biases in the involved nations. I read from their website about the origin of the museum: "The lack of national consensus about our past meant that in Croatia there was no specialized museum (state or private) that would deal with the complete history of socialism in the country, and the topic itself was consider better forgotten than solved" (Red History Museum).
The exhibits are organized by themes, including Socialism in Theory, Socialism in Practice (Everyday Life), Socialism in Practice (the Dark Side), and Socialism in Memory. The collections are amazing, including many artifacts and documents from the period. They are exhibited with a careful neutrality, trying to show both the positive and negative aspects of socialist politicians such as the Croatian-born "benevolent dictator" Josip Broz Tito (1892-1980), the governing elites and their policies in this period. After the visit, I talk with the receptionist, a progressive-looking historian who is critic of the present-day politics in Croatia.
Days 57-68: A break in Croatia and Bosnia & Herzegovina
I move to the Guest House Maria in Gruz neighbourhood of Dubrovnik, not far from the Red History Museum. I also take the advantage to visit the crowded Old Town and its museums. I swim a little in one lonely beach. I take Alhamra to a bike shop near the guest house. Ivan Jaric (Ivan the Saviour) of Dubrovnik Bike and Adventure Shop suggests many changes, including tubeless tyres, a new chain and the rear sprockets. He does a great job and the bike will not present any problems until the end of the journey in Istanbul. He also keeps the bike until we are back on 9 May.
On my sixty-ninth birthday, 2 May, Estelle arrives from Madrid. What is happiness? A piece of bread, a glass of fresh water, a kiss from my love. (Without forgetting the good pizza we have together.)
The day after that we pick up the car and drive again to Janjina. Goran is not there, but we rent his tourist apartment. On the way, we visit the very nice Trsteno Arboretum. This beautiful place was created in the late fifteenth century by the aristocratic family Gucetic-Gozze. They requested ship captains to bring back seeds and plants from their travels. The gigantic oriental planes on the access to the Arboretum are five hundred years old.
We also go to the scene of my previous troubles, Korčula. This time the weather is beautiful and we visit a few nice secluded beaches. We are alone, we are happy, we are sun-thirsty. Swimming, eating, reading during long hours makes me forget my cycling adventure for a while. The intense colours of the sea and the trees are the accent to our conversations. In the evening we find a lovely seaside konobo (tavern) in Lumbarda. The dinner and the sunset are sublime.
On the reverse direction of my previous days, we take the ferry back to Split and enjoy very much the Old Town, now in good weather. On 7 May we cross the border to Bosnia and Herzegovina and we drive up to Mostar. We visit the Museum of the Genocide. They have an excellent collection and exhibits of the 1991-1995 war. Mass killings of civilians, forced migrations, mass rape of women and children, ethnic cleansing. The United States and the European Union hesitated and procrastinated their intervention ostensibly because they did not want a Muslim state in Europe. Outside the museum, almost all the graves in the open cemeteries show the same year of death: 1991. We are deeply touched.
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| River Neretva at Mostar |
Mostar is a gem in the Bosnian landscape. We have breakfast with a view to the Neretva river, the mosque minarets and the Stari Most, and of course the Old Bridge. It was commissioned by Suleiman the Magnificent in 1557. Upon its completion in 1567 the bridge was the widest human-made arch in the world. During four centuries, the Old Bridge was a practical symbol of union between Croatian Christians and Bosniak Muslims living together in the same city. However, during the Bosnian War the bridge was destroyed by Croatian forces. The reconstruction of the Old Bridge lasted three years and it was opened again in 2004.
We leave Mostar and drive back to Dubrovnik. We return the car and I recover the bike. Estelle is leaving today 9 May.
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| The Old Bridge |
