Croatia becomes country number 10

After our jaunt across Spain, and up through Portugal, we were finally headed across the Adriatic sea and on to the Dalmatian coast. We had read, and heard, so much about the place that we decided it was time to see what all the fuss was about.

Adios, Spain, hello, Croatia

Our 6.30am flight from Barcelona landed in Split and we were on Croatian soil. It didn’t take long to see first hand what people mean when they talk about Balkan “customer service”.

As many people boarded the airport shuttle bus they attempted to pay the driver with Euros. A big mistake. The driver yelled at the naive travellers, throwing the euro notes down in apparent disgust, “Kuna! We are in Croatia. We have the kuna, not euro.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that we had the foresight to withdraw some of the beloved kuna in the airport, as we passed through to collect our bags. It was quite amusing to see so many people have the temerity to try and pay the exasperated driver in a currency that will not become fully accepted in Croatia until January 2023. This is when Croatia finally switches over, formally, to the euro as the national currency. Until then, my advice, get your kunas before trying to board a bus in Croatia.

Transport Troubles

Waiting for transport becomes a habit whilst travelling. Waiting longer than you would expect at home becomes second nature. So, stood in the early morning sunshine, outside Spilt airport, for an airport shuttle bus that had no timetable, was to be expected.

When it did finally arrive, there was a huge queue to get on. And as we see the world over, queuing does not seem to be a thing outside of England. People rock up, and trundle their cases past the long line of people obviously waiting for the same bus they intend to get. In fact, the only bus that all of us are getting on. The first few times it happens, we stay polite. And then we learn. When the bus opens its doors, we charge ahead, with the crowd. Arms and elbows everywhere, ensuring that we get on. And get seats together.

Sweet Dreams in Split

All aboard, our drive from the airport to Split city centre was short, and some 30 minutes later we were dragging our bags past the bus station cafes, luggage storage offices, and up a slight incline towards our accommodation for the next three nights. “Sweet Dreams” apartment. Since leaving home in Perth, this was to be bed number 36, in country number 10.

What we soon discovered in all of our travels through Croatia was that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of privately owned accommodation options. From simple rooms (Sobe), to apartments with all mod cons. We even struck gold on occasion, having our own kettle and a small fridge. There were times when the kettle was communal, in the hallway, serving a number of apartments., It became a trick to listen for when the kettle had boiled and someone had their morning brew. After a couple of minutes of silence I knew the coast was clear to go and make my first coffee of the day.

Sweet Dreams apartment in Split was one of the “posh” ones. We had our own kettle. Happy days. And like all the apartments we stayed in, it was more than adequate for our needs. I wouldn’t say we were “doing it in style”, but we had everything we needed. Clean sheets. Comfortable bed. Hot shower. We were well set up for the next three nights, exploring the wonderful city of Split.

Exploring the Diocletian Palace in Split

Split is the second largest city in Croatia and dates back to the 3rd century BC and is now famous for the Roman palace built in 305AD for the emperor Diocletian. The palace has been rebuilt over the years and is now a sight to behold. Dominating the riverfront in Split, you can spend hours losing yourself in the labyrinth of narrow streets and alleys of the palace. Around every corner you will find a restaurant or bar, allowing you respite from the hordes of cruise ship passengers that get disgorged onto the streets of Split every day.

A stroll along the “riva”, or riverfront, allows you to grasp the size and scale of Diocletian’s Palace. And the setting is jaw dropping. With the sun reflecting back off the white stone, contrasting against perfectly blue skies, with the impressive mountain range behind. 

Split is the perfect size to spend two or three days exploring, which is exactly what we did. It is a place that I would highly recommend, and when you are ready to move on, the port is on your doorstep, with ferries to the nearby islands.

Down the coast to Podgora

For us, the boats would be for another day. For today, the well served bus station, across the road from the port was where we were off to. We were headed south, by bus. Wanting to see as many sides of Croatia as we could, our next week was to be spent in a small village one and half hours south of Split. Podgora was somewhere we had discovered when researching “mini holiday” options in Croatia. For the next week we would be based at the Medora Family Hotel.

Thankfully, with it being towards the end of the season, there weren’t too many families. At least families with small people that make lots of noise. We had a great hotel in a small, quiet village that seemed very popular with Germans. Chatting with Vladomir, the hotel entertainment manager, we discovered that Croatia is the number one destination for holidaying Germans.

With great weather for most of the week, we spent our days with long morning strolls along the sea, followed by lazy days on the sun loungers. Victoria even managed a dip in the sea. The village still had enough beach bars open for our late afternoon beers, before dinner in the hotel. Our deal was half board, and whilst we didn’t go hungry that week, we didn’t get to taste the best of what Croatia has to offer on the dining scene, which is some excellent food. The self serve, drink as much as you want, wine definitely helped.

I will miss the gallons of wine that we consumed that week, but all good things come to an end. We bid our farewells to Vladomir, and the Germans, and were off with our bags again. Whilst most tourists had coaches organised to take them back to Split, we dragged our wheeled bags up to the local bus stop. At least, to where we thought the local bus stop was…