As you could probably tell from the ending of the prior post, I arrived in Zadar weary, confused, and a bit insane. To make matters worse, I couldn't figure out how the bus station was oriented or even if it was near the train station which what I was familiar with. Normally in a situation where I am required to take a night bus or train that gets me in at an absurd hour (2am-8am), I will employ the Mike Steele 2-for-1 hostel play. This is where I book the second night at the hostel and then turn up whenever my overnight transport gets in and simply crash on a couch at the hostel for a few hours.
So far I had achieved universal success but when I booked my night at the Wild Fig in Zadar I noticed that they did not have a 24hr reception. I emailed the hostel to see if someone could be there to meet me when I got in but they wouldn't be able to do that unless I booked a room for the first night. That's ok, I thought, I'll just hang out in the bus station for a bit and then show up at 6:30-7 when the reception opens. I was assuming there would be some sort of indoor station where I could find a bench, throw on the ipod and just chill. Much to my surprise, it was not that kind of bus station. The only indoor part was completely locked up. I did manage to find the train station though.
The worst part was that immediately to the left of this picture was an open room that looked like it was used as a heroin den as recently as moments ago. Thus, the train station being extremely sketchy, I opted to return to the bus station which was relatively well lit and my only real concern seemed to be the host of bums circling about like buzzards waiting to pick clean a corpse. I was able to find some reasonable looking benches more or less away from the bums where around 3:45 I set down my pack and tried to get some sleep. It was cold but I thought I could manage.
The only problem is that about every 10 minutes or so one of the bums would shuffle by and stop directly in front of me, presumably checking to see if I was asleep, in which case I would have to open my eyes and stare at them until they left. Eventually one guy came and even after I did the haka-esque eye maneuver he continued to mill about until finally I lost it and just yelled "aaaah balahaha balahaha blabalahbalah!" and waved my arms around frantically. That sent him scurrying. But any chance of sleep was doomed. I spent the next 2 hours in this position:
Finally around 5:45 I could sense the day breaking and I decided to set off in the direction I presumed the hostel to be. I have to admit, the road the hostel is on looks way more intimidating in low light than it does in the clear light of day. I did eventually make it to the hostel and much to my simultaneous relief and chagrin, I was able to walk right in, set down my bag and take a nap on the couch. I could have done that right from the start! But it doesn't matter, I was there safe and was able to get a few hours of sleep. Plus now I can say I've officially (tried) to spend a night in a bus station. Now that I've thoroughly terrified my mother with this story, we can move on to the rest of my time in Zadar, ha.
After my brief but refreshing nap, splashed some water on my face and headed out to tour Zadar. The hostel I was staying in was a good 15 minute walk to the east of the old town (also on a peninsula like Piran), and I chose to walk first further east so I could stroll along the entire coast leading to the old town. It was my first glimpse of the Croatian coast and it was beautiful.
As I strolled along I noticed a woman sitting down on a dock just reading a book in the early morning light. It made for a great photo opportunity (and I have to be honest, I jealously wanted to join her).
After a brief stop for some stretching I made my way into the old town. Zadar's old town is chock full of old Roman structures (and tragically had much more until the wars of the past 100 years), so check out flickr for all the columns, gates, arches, and other structures. I'll just post the highlight pictures on here, the first of which is the Church of St. Donat with it's bell tower which is located on the site of the old Roman Forum.
Similar to most places in eastern Europe, you can climb the church bell tower for a modest fee. Those are Roman columns, structures, and wall foundations in the foreground. Before I climbed the tower, however, I stopped to sit and listen to a man who was playing guitar and soak in the early morning ambiance of Zadar. As I did such, I wrote the following:
"Sitting in the old Roman Forum square. Listening to a Croatian man play guitar, first traditional Croatian music, then 'House of the Rising Sun.' I have chill bumps. The clock tower bell rings. Pigeons take flight. Kids dance on the ruins while their grandparents smile knowingly. The sky is crystal clear. The sun is warm on my skin and there is a cool breeze. I am happy. Whatever else today brings, I am happy."
From atop the tower you can see how the church sits astride the rectangular outline of the old Roman Forum. This is an absolutely amazing site.
Also from the tower you can get nice views of the surrounding area including a direct line down the main boulevard back toward my hostel which lies somewhere off in the distance.
As I walked around the top of the tower, gazing down at the ruins of the Roman Forum below, I had another series of thoughts:
"Walking around Zadar brings sharply into focus two areas where as an American, you do not really have the capability to comprehend the scope of: (1) the Roman Empire; and (2) World War II. The extent to which the first stretches, the monuments, edifices, infrastructure is so mind bogglingly expansive and done with such precision that you see countless examples of it from northern England to Africa. Egypt to Turkey. Through the Balkans and up into Germany. That those structures exist in such a well preserved (and often functional) state is a testament to just how incredible and far reaching that Empire was.
And the latter of those two is probably the single greatest force in destroying the remains of those great building projects, bringing conflict to nearly every territory of the former Roman Empire. And that, of course, only being one of two theaters of that great war. The scale of both of these is so gigantic, so colossal, that one struggles to even attempt to grasp it- even after seeing the scattered bits and pieces of the construction of the former and the destruction via the latter first hand around the globe."
Also from atop the tower I noticed something funny and scribbled, "there is a guy next to me on the bell tower who literally just took over 100 pictures in less than 3 minutes. Overkill. And notably not Asian." Calm down Asians, I kid. ;) Also in the Roman Forum still stands one of the two original columns that occupied the north-central portion of the Forum. Incredible that it has survived so long.
The other main attractions in the old town are the sun dial thing and the "sea organ." The "sea organ" apparently makes sounds when the waves crash against it but it didn't sound very musical to me. Just like waves crashing against stone... maybe it was the wrong time for the tide? Frankly I didn't find either of them that impressive in comparison to the incredible Roman ruins scattered about the city, but I was informed that tourists often get drunk and jump off the sea organ into the ocean around 4am. So I guess it has that appeal.
Having completed my tour of old town, I returned to the hostel, donned my trunks and headed to scout out a spot to soak in some rays and take a dip or two. You'll find a common theme across the Croatia entries in that there is a distinct lack of "beaches" in the way we think of them, i.e. expansive white sand crashed upon by surf. In Croatia it's more like rocks and some lightly jostling waves. But, the water is absolutely crystal clear blue. Gorgeous. I found a nice little spot on a rock and prepared to get after it.
After sunning for a while, I joined some locals for a swim and diving contest and then it was time to retire to a place I had eyed earlier that morning, Tequila Sunrise, for a much deserved beer and sandwich. The view from the deck of TS is well worth posting the picture. Also, every now and then people would rise from their seats, walk to the edge of the balcony and plunge into the sea. Then come back up and resume their coffee/beer.
After relaxing and doing a little reading/writing, I returned to the hostel for a shower and to finish sorting out everything through Sarajevo. It was there I met a couple guys from Wakefield, England who, upon hearing I had been there, demanded I go out with them. Now, there have rightfully been a couple nights on this trip where I've had a few too many and woken up with a due hangover, but I haven't (thankfully) had any nights where I was passing out or just falling down drunk. Well, the Wakefield guys sorted that out with some sort of cocktail they had the bartender at the first bar concoct.
After 2-3 bars the guys wanted to go to the club but I never made it. One of the last pictures I have of the night is them disappearing in the distance over the bridge out of old town and over to the club. Evidently, I got about 2/3 of the way across the bridge, sat down and just went to sleep. The guys found me an hour later napping nicely, and being the English gentlemen they are, woke me up and helped escort me home. How embarrassing. But, not as embarrassing as the fact that between the bridge and the hostel, I lost my iphone, new headphones, and shoes. Yea, shoes!
They deposited me in the hostel lobby and instead of going to my room, I simply laid back on the couch I had spent part of the prior night on and wend to sleep. Bum style. I didn't wake up until around 10:30 and most of the hostel had been up for hours and no one had the courtesy to wake me until my English friends got up. In any event, I realized my stuff was gone and utilizing the tactics from The Hangover movie, I retraced my steps from the night before. I did find my shoes in a bush right outside the hostel (no idea why I thought that was a good idea) but had no luck with the iphone or headphones.
Chalking them up as a lost cause I headed back to the hostel only to discover that a nice Bosnian man had found them in a tree (TREE?!?) and had returned them to the front desk. I was so thankful I think I hugged him 4 or 5 times. Anyway, in all the excitement I had missed the bus to Split I had intended to take so I rushed out of the hostel and totally forgot: (1) to pay them; and (2) to collect my passport. Got all the way to the bus station before it dawned on me (though luckily I didn't leave the city!), and I went back and rectified the error. Thoroughly flustered by the ordeal at this point, I made it to the bus station, caught my bus, and crashed hard for the entire ride down to Split.
I've prided myself on being a great drinking ambassador to the world on this trip but never overdoing it to the point where I'm a liability to myself or others, but even the most seasoned professionals can be outdone from time to time. And Zadar, you got me. Needless to say it was going to be a very sober and recuperating evening when I arrived in Split, and I made an internal commitment to go very easy on my ambassador commitments once I had made it through Croatia. And even in Croatia I was going to be especially watching myself. Lesson learned. All told, considering I bested a Wakefield man in Le Mans, it made perfect sense that a Wakefield man would administer that overdue lesson. I hate to be proven wrong, but I do love the symmetry.
As I strolled along I noticed a woman sitting down on a dock just reading a book in the early morning light. It made for a great photo opportunity (and I have to be honest, I jealously wanted to join her).
After a brief stop for some stretching I made my way into the old town. Zadar's old town is chock full of old Roman structures (and tragically had much more until the wars of the past 100 years), so check out flickr for all the columns, gates, arches, and other structures. I'll just post the highlight pictures on here, the first of which is the Church of St. Donat with it's bell tower which is located on the site of the old Roman Forum.
Similar to most places in eastern Europe, you can climb the church bell tower for a modest fee. Those are Roman columns, structures, and wall foundations in the foreground. Before I climbed the tower, however, I stopped to sit and listen to a man who was playing guitar and soak in the early morning ambiance of Zadar. As I did such, I wrote the following:
"Sitting in the old Roman Forum square. Listening to a Croatian man play guitar, first traditional Croatian music, then 'House of the Rising Sun.' I have chill bumps. The clock tower bell rings. Pigeons take flight. Kids dance on the ruins while their grandparents smile knowingly. The sky is crystal clear. The sun is warm on my skin and there is a cool breeze. I am happy. Whatever else today brings, I am happy."
From atop the tower you can see how the church sits astride the rectangular outline of the old Roman Forum. This is an absolutely amazing site.
Also from the tower you can get nice views of the surrounding area including a direct line down the main boulevard back toward my hostel which lies somewhere off in the distance.
As I walked around the top of the tower, gazing down at the ruins of the Roman Forum below, I had another series of thoughts:
"Walking around Zadar brings sharply into focus two areas where as an American, you do not really have the capability to comprehend the scope of: (1) the Roman Empire; and (2) World War II. The extent to which the first stretches, the monuments, edifices, infrastructure is so mind bogglingly expansive and done with such precision that you see countless examples of it from northern England to Africa. Egypt to Turkey. Through the Balkans and up into Germany. That those structures exist in such a well preserved (and often functional) state is a testament to just how incredible and far reaching that Empire was.
And the latter of those two is probably the single greatest force in destroying the remains of those great building projects, bringing conflict to nearly every territory of the former Roman Empire. And that, of course, only being one of two theaters of that great war. The scale of both of these is so gigantic, so colossal, that one struggles to even attempt to grasp it- even after seeing the scattered bits and pieces of the construction of the former and the destruction via the latter first hand around the globe."
Also from atop the tower I noticed something funny and scribbled, "there is a guy next to me on the bell tower who literally just took over 100 pictures in less than 3 minutes. Overkill. And notably not Asian." Calm down Asians, I kid. ;) Also in the Roman Forum still stands one of the two original columns that occupied the north-central portion of the Forum. Incredible that it has survived so long.
The other main attractions in the old town are the sun dial thing and the "sea organ." The "sea organ" apparently makes sounds when the waves crash against it but it didn't sound very musical to me. Just like waves crashing against stone... maybe it was the wrong time for the tide? Frankly I didn't find either of them that impressive in comparison to the incredible Roman ruins scattered about the city, but I was informed that tourists often get drunk and jump off the sea organ into the ocean around 4am. So I guess it has that appeal.
Having completed my tour of old town, I returned to the hostel, donned my trunks and headed to scout out a spot to soak in some rays and take a dip or two. You'll find a common theme across the Croatia entries in that there is a distinct lack of "beaches" in the way we think of them, i.e. expansive white sand crashed upon by surf. In Croatia it's more like rocks and some lightly jostling waves. But, the water is absolutely crystal clear blue. Gorgeous. I found a nice little spot on a rock and prepared to get after it.
After sunning for a while, I joined some locals for a swim and diving contest and then it was time to retire to a place I had eyed earlier that morning, Tequila Sunrise, for a much deserved beer and sandwich. The view from the deck of TS is well worth posting the picture. Also, every now and then people would rise from their seats, walk to the edge of the balcony and plunge into the sea. Then come back up and resume their coffee/beer.
After relaxing and doing a little reading/writing, I returned to the hostel for a shower and to finish sorting out everything through Sarajevo. It was there I met a couple guys from Wakefield, England who, upon hearing I had been there, demanded I go out with them. Now, there have rightfully been a couple nights on this trip where I've had a few too many and woken up with a due hangover, but I haven't (thankfully) had any nights where I was passing out or just falling down drunk. Well, the Wakefield guys sorted that out with some sort of cocktail they had the bartender at the first bar concoct.
After 2-3 bars the guys wanted to go to the club but I never made it. One of the last pictures I have of the night is them disappearing in the distance over the bridge out of old town and over to the club. Evidently, I got about 2/3 of the way across the bridge, sat down and just went to sleep. The guys found me an hour later napping nicely, and being the English gentlemen they are, woke me up and helped escort me home. How embarrassing. But, not as embarrassing as the fact that between the bridge and the hostel, I lost my iphone, new headphones, and shoes. Yea, shoes!
They deposited me in the hostel lobby and instead of going to my room, I simply laid back on the couch I had spent part of the prior night on and wend to sleep. Bum style. I didn't wake up until around 10:30 and most of the hostel had been up for hours and no one had the courtesy to wake me until my English friends got up. In any event, I realized my stuff was gone and utilizing the tactics from The Hangover movie, I retraced my steps from the night before. I did find my shoes in a bush right outside the hostel (no idea why I thought that was a good idea) but had no luck with the iphone or headphones.
Chalking them up as a lost cause I headed back to the hostel only to discover that a nice Bosnian man had found them in a tree (TREE?!?) and had returned them to the front desk. I was so thankful I think I hugged him 4 or 5 times. Anyway, in all the excitement I had missed the bus to Split I had intended to take so I rushed out of the hostel and totally forgot: (1) to pay them; and (2) to collect my passport. Got all the way to the bus station before it dawned on me (though luckily I didn't leave the city!), and I went back and rectified the error. Thoroughly flustered by the ordeal at this point, I made it to the bus station, caught my bus, and crashed hard for the entire ride down to Split.
I've prided myself on being a great drinking ambassador to the world on this trip but never overdoing it to the point where I'm a liability to myself or others, but even the most seasoned professionals can be outdone from time to time. And Zadar, you got me. Needless to say it was going to be a very sober and recuperating evening when I arrived in Split, and I made an internal commitment to go very easy on my ambassador commitments once I had made it through Croatia. And even in Croatia I was going to be especially watching myself. Lesson learned. All told, considering I bested a Wakefield man in Le Mans, it made perfect sense that a Wakefield man would administer that overdue lesson. I hate to be proven wrong, but I do love the symmetry.
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