After my adventures in Zadar, all I really wanted to do was check into the hostel, find something to eat, and then take a nap in a room with A/C. Usually I hate to "abandon" a day, however, the second I stepped off the bus in Split I knew there was no day to be wasted. First, it was 1 million degrees. Celsius. My shoes burst into flames and burned clean off my feet as soon as I set foot on the asphalt. Yet, somehow, I was surrounded- no mauled- by an inescapable sea of Split denizens. First it was a battalion of people offering me accommodation, something I was in no way prepared for, and second came an endless onslaught of tourists pouring from Diocletian's Palace, or the ferries, or the buses, or the restaurants and bars, or some far flung all day/night booze cruise.
It was an absolute hive of activity; something my tender mind, body and soul was not prepared to endure. But I fought on, keeping my head down and squinting through the fractured beams of light, forging ahead through the steady waves of life which battered me with each passing breaker. When I emerged from the other side of the human sandstorm I felt like a hero, a goliath, the people's champion! I had walked two blocks. In this situation, to say that discouragement set in would stretch the word "discouragement" so far beyond its definition as to render it laughably ineffective for all further applications. I was crushed, defeated, ready to throw in the towel. And to top it off, I had no idea where my hostel was in this chaotic sea of humanity.
Luckily for me, an elderly woman sauntered up and verbally battered me into requesting her help which she provided free of charge. She kindly directed me to my destination or a reasonable facsimile thereabout. Why she was so eager to help me I'll never know. Perhaps she saw the desperation in my face. Perhaps my sorry countenance and burned feet were scaring the children. Whatever the case, as devastated as I was to have only found myself 2 blocks from the bus station, I was equally elated to discover I had a mere 3 more blocks of relatively pedestrian free street to cover before I could assuage my tattered being. I covered those three blocks faster than a hungry donkey with a carrot dangled in front of his face.
I've had some hit and miss hostel bookings in the past but I have to say, I dominated this one. To be fair, I did poll my international friends on facebook for their opinions but I made the final selection between 3 highly recommended places and booked the intimate Split Backpackers. This is only a 4 room 25 or so person hostel (contrast to some of the 400+ person mega hostels I've stayed in) that had A/C in every room, a cool little kitchen, and one of the most helpful hostel staff I've ever been around.
I was so excited to just chill out, but first thing's first- I needed some grub. I decided I would go to the first place I found and eat the first thing I saw. That happened to be a "fast food" (common term around the Balkans to mean burgers, pizza, kebabs, sandwiches, etc.) stand and what looked like half a sub roll topped with ham, cheese, and pickle. I bought it for about .60 euro and it turned out to be half a sub roll topped with ham, cheese, and pickle. You would be surprised how rarely that happens. Sated, the remainder of the afternoon was spent lounging around the hostel and collecting my wits for a one-day bashing of Split in the morning.
The main "attraction" in Split is the remnants of Diocletian's Palace. It was built for the retiring Roman emperor as a gift to himself for all of his hard years of service. In my mind the most interesting thing about the palace are the different phases it has undergone over the years. After it was abandoned by the Romans the surrounding citizens moved in and more or less adapted it to their purposes over the years. That includes adding fortifications, removing those fortifications, demolishing old buildings and constructing new residences, businesses, or whatever else the needs of the age dictated. These days the palace is a miss-mash mix of residences, shops, restaurants, ruins, museums, conservation projects, and probably the most notable element, the church and tower.
Also still visible is the old peristyle which led to Diocletian's quarters.
For a paltry fee you can, you guessed it, climb the tower where, you guessed it again, get some good pictures of the city. But... if you guessed that this is where the obligatory photo of yours truly was coming, WRONG! Tough luck, thanks for playing. Unfortunately the tower doesn't provide much window space for a good self-photo. But here's a nice shot of the Split bay area.
Probably the best place to get a nice shot of the tower and the interior of the palace is in the southeast corner where there are some open areas and no one has really attempted to build anything up. I think at some point they were going to put a shopping mall here and an underground parking garage or something but that was all protested into oblivion.
If you're as intelligent as I think you are, and I'm sure you are as why else would you be reading Wanderlust, you will come to the same conclusion I did. The coolest part of the palace is not what you can see above ground- it's what lies below. There is layer after layer of chambers, rooms, and passageways below the palace. A great example of these can be seen in the same southeast corner where an atrium provides a great cut-away view of the numerous levels.
Aside from seeing the former palace and dodging tourists like bullets in the Matrix, the best thing to do in Split (apart from the all night legendary cruises) is walking up the hill to the Marjan park. Actually, to be fair, I would be remiss if I didn't take a brief moment to mention the other main site to see in Split, nay all of Croatia, the Croatian women. They are stunning very much in all of the classical ways. Tall, tan, fit, and leggy- it reminded me of when the big fashion shows would come to NY, except these women are just living their lives. Even for a seasoned traveler, it was a bit surreal. Sorry, no series of creepy pictures- you'll have to go to Croatia and see for yourself (or google "Croatian women bikini" for example).
Back to the park. It was first developed under Diocletian as recreational space for himself and the thousands of minions it took to keep him in the lifestyle in which he had become accustomed. Because of the rugged terrain it was never developed as the city expanded and is now a representation of the Croatian wilderness and a symbol of pride in Split. Practically, it is an arid park, never moreso experienced than when you are soldiering up the hills through the sea of pines with the sun searing the top of your head. About half way through the massive park I gave up and sat on a bench to catch some rays. On the way down I got a great shot of Split from on high (really the main reason to come here).
After nearly drowning in tourists and sun it was time to repair to the hostel and accomplish some administrative tasks. While hanging out in the common room I met new friends Monica and Jocelyn from Australia who Mauthed me into agreeing to come on the infamous Tower Pub Crawl. I have to admit, it was a solid pub crawl- run by I think the same people who run the one in Prague. Similar program, unlimited time, then off to a few bars then clubs, etc.
This particular one they had a beer pong tournament and a Lan, a kiwi girl, and I finished third. Booyah! Also, this was the first one I've been on where they didn't "run out" or just not have any shirts. I got a very offensively Halloween-orange pub crawl t-shirt which I immediately converted into a makeshift bandana. For good measure, here is a funny shot of Joc, I, and some other awesome folks on the way to bar 2, bandana in full force.
At some point I took this picture of the group. It seemed innocuous at the time but check out the pair of glasses one of the guys is wearing. I crack up every time I look at this. No idea where he found those.
The next day Monica, Joc, and I awoke at the crack of 7:15-ish to go down and get ferry tickets. Let me just say, the ferry system is either the most backwardly organized enterprise in all of the Balkans or a complete sham. They won't let you buy a ticket to the ferry the day before. Seems odd, but alright. The first lady told me to get to the kiosk to buy my ticket between 9-9:30am for the 11:30am ferry. Wait, what? Why so early? The second lady (at the actual kiosk) said between 8:30-9am. A girl at the hostel said 8-8:30 and the guy at the front desk of the hostel said 7:30-8. Every time I asked someone else it got earlier and earlier! By the end of the night I was planning to go straight from the bar!
Anyway, I got up and was down there right after 8am and there wasn't a soul in sight. I was the only one not only at the kiosk but pretty much in the entire harbor area. This has to be a joke they play on foreigners just to laugh at them dragging themselves down there at such an absurdly early hour. But I had the last laugh as I went back to the hostel and fell back asleep. So shove that in your smug anti-toursit pipes and smoke it! I will say, though, much to my surprise the ferry did end up full. But Monica, Joc and I all made it, for better or worse or varying shades therein, and we were off for 3 nights on the island of Hvar.
I was going to Hvar (and hostel Skansi) specifically because I had been told by nearly everyone I had met in Croatia that it was an absolute must-do. Including the English guys who ko'd me in Zadar. You would think I would have learned my lesson, dear reader. And you would be right... if I wasn't in Croatia. Heading to an island. On a boat. I got my swim trunks, and my flippy floppies.
It was an absolute hive of activity; something my tender mind, body and soul was not prepared to endure. But I fought on, keeping my head down and squinting through the fractured beams of light, forging ahead through the steady waves of life which battered me with each passing breaker. When I emerged from the other side of the human sandstorm I felt like a hero, a goliath, the people's champion! I had walked two blocks. In this situation, to say that discouragement set in would stretch the word "discouragement" so far beyond its definition as to render it laughably ineffective for all further applications. I was crushed, defeated, ready to throw in the towel. And to top it off, I had no idea where my hostel was in this chaotic sea of humanity.
Luckily for me, an elderly woman sauntered up and verbally battered me into requesting her help which she provided free of charge. She kindly directed me to my destination or a reasonable facsimile thereabout. Why she was so eager to help me I'll never know. Perhaps she saw the desperation in my face. Perhaps my sorry countenance and burned feet were scaring the children. Whatever the case, as devastated as I was to have only found myself 2 blocks from the bus station, I was equally elated to discover I had a mere 3 more blocks of relatively pedestrian free street to cover before I could assuage my tattered being. I covered those three blocks faster than a hungry donkey with a carrot dangled in front of his face.
I've had some hit and miss hostel bookings in the past but I have to say, I dominated this one. To be fair, I did poll my international friends on facebook for their opinions but I made the final selection between 3 highly recommended places and booked the intimate Split Backpackers. This is only a 4 room 25 or so person hostel (contrast to some of the 400+ person mega hostels I've stayed in) that had A/C in every room, a cool little kitchen, and one of the most helpful hostel staff I've ever been around.
I was so excited to just chill out, but first thing's first- I needed some grub. I decided I would go to the first place I found and eat the first thing I saw. That happened to be a "fast food" (common term around the Balkans to mean burgers, pizza, kebabs, sandwiches, etc.) stand and what looked like half a sub roll topped with ham, cheese, and pickle. I bought it for about .60 euro and it turned out to be half a sub roll topped with ham, cheese, and pickle. You would be surprised how rarely that happens. Sated, the remainder of the afternoon was spent lounging around the hostel and collecting my wits for a one-day bashing of Split in the morning.
The main "attraction" in Split is the remnants of Diocletian's Palace. It was built for the retiring Roman emperor as a gift to himself for all of his hard years of service. In my mind the most interesting thing about the palace are the different phases it has undergone over the years. After it was abandoned by the Romans the surrounding citizens moved in and more or less adapted it to their purposes over the years. That includes adding fortifications, removing those fortifications, demolishing old buildings and constructing new residences, businesses, or whatever else the needs of the age dictated. These days the palace is a miss-mash mix of residences, shops, restaurants, ruins, museums, conservation projects, and probably the most notable element, the church and tower.
Also still visible is the old peristyle which led to Diocletian's quarters.
For a paltry fee you can, you guessed it, climb the tower where, you guessed it again, get some good pictures of the city. But... if you guessed that this is where the obligatory photo of yours truly was coming, WRONG! Tough luck, thanks for playing. Unfortunately the tower doesn't provide much window space for a good self-photo. But here's a nice shot of the Split bay area.
Probably the best place to get a nice shot of the tower and the interior of the palace is in the southeast corner where there are some open areas and no one has really attempted to build anything up. I think at some point they were going to put a shopping mall here and an underground parking garage or something but that was all protested into oblivion.
If you're as intelligent as I think you are, and I'm sure you are as why else would you be reading Wanderlust, you will come to the same conclusion I did. The coolest part of the palace is not what you can see above ground- it's what lies below. There is layer after layer of chambers, rooms, and passageways below the palace. A great example of these can be seen in the same southeast corner where an atrium provides a great cut-away view of the numerous levels.
Aside from seeing the former palace and dodging tourists like bullets in the Matrix, the best thing to do in Split (apart from the all night legendary cruises) is walking up the hill to the Marjan park. Actually, to be fair, I would be remiss if I didn't take a brief moment to mention the other main site to see in Split, nay all of Croatia, the Croatian women. They are stunning very much in all of the classical ways. Tall, tan, fit, and leggy- it reminded me of when the big fashion shows would come to NY, except these women are just living their lives. Even for a seasoned traveler, it was a bit surreal. Sorry, no series of creepy pictures- you'll have to go to Croatia and see for yourself (or google "Croatian women bikini" for example).
Back to the park. It was first developed under Diocletian as recreational space for himself and the thousands of minions it took to keep him in the lifestyle in which he had become accustomed. Because of the rugged terrain it was never developed as the city expanded and is now a representation of the Croatian wilderness and a symbol of pride in Split. Practically, it is an arid park, never moreso experienced than when you are soldiering up the hills through the sea of pines with the sun searing the top of your head. About half way through the massive park I gave up and sat on a bench to catch some rays. On the way down I got a great shot of Split from on high (really the main reason to come here).
After nearly drowning in tourists and sun it was time to repair to the hostel and accomplish some administrative tasks. While hanging out in the common room I met new friends Monica and Jocelyn from Australia who Mauthed me into agreeing to come on the infamous Tower Pub Crawl. I have to admit, it was a solid pub crawl- run by I think the same people who run the one in Prague. Similar program, unlimited time, then off to a few bars then clubs, etc.
This particular one they had a beer pong tournament and a Lan, a kiwi girl, and I finished third. Booyah! Also, this was the first one I've been on where they didn't "run out" or just not have any shirts. I got a very offensively Halloween-orange pub crawl t-shirt which I immediately converted into a makeshift bandana. For good measure, here is a funny shot of Joc, I, and some other awesome folks on the way to bar 2, bandana in full force.
At some point I took this picture of the group. It seemed innocuous at the time but check out the pair of glasses one of the guys is wearing. I crack up every time I look at this. No idea where he found those.
The next day Monica, Joc, and I awoke at the crack of 7:15-ish to go down and get ferry tickets. Let me just say, the ferry system is either the most backwardly organized enterprise in all of the Balkans or a complete sham. They won't let you buy a ticket to the ferry the day before. Seems odd, but alright. The first lady told me to get to the kiosk to buy my ticket between 9-9:30am for the 11:30am ferry. Wait, what? Why so early? The second lady (at the actual kiosk) said between 8:30-9am. A girl at the hostel said 8-8:30 and the guy at the front desk of the hostel said 7:30-8. Every time I asked someone else it got earlier and earlier! By the end of the night I was planning to go straight from the bar!
Anyway, I got up and was down there right after 8am and there wasn't a soul in sight. I was the only one not only at the kiosk but pretty much in the entire harbor area. This has to be a joke they play on foreigners just to laugh at them dragging themselves down there at such an absurdly early hour. But I had the last laugh as I went back to the hostel and fell back asleep. So shove that in your smug anti-toursit pipes and smoke it! I will say, though, much to my surprise the ferry did end up full. But Monica, Joc and I all made it, for better or worse or varying shades therein, and we were off for 3 nights on the island of Hvar.
I was going to Hvar (and hostel Skansi) specifically because I had been told by nearly everyone I had met in Croatia that it was an absolute must-do. Including the English guys who ko'd me in Zadar. You would think I would have learned my lesson, dear reader. And you would be right... if I wasn't in Croatia. Heading to an island. On a boat. I got my swim trunks, and my flippy floppies.
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