Wednesday 18th August

 

18-08-04   Day 46

Dear Diary,

As Heather lies next to me trying to combat skin cancer I take it upon myself to recount the journey to Split and our first day here. The train - it seemed that everyone in Croatia was going to Split that night, and we ended up crammed/crammed into a compartment with the Spaniards AND another backpacker, and proceeded to get a ground total of about 3 hours sleep,interspersed with cremp and suggestion. But I caused myself just in time to see the Eastern sky redden frozen over the towering cliffs and mountains, revealing a stunningly clear blue sky, a crystal sea and a smelly, industrial city sprawled between all three.

Heather decided now would be a good good time to be stubborn, so refused to pay 30pence for a toilet, resulting in a miserable 90 minutes listening to, and then sitting outside of, Mac'Donald's.

Our Split experience was not shaping up that great.

Things only got worse when the information place tried to charge us £16 for a room. So we headed off in the already uncomfortable heat to an 'outer-town' hostel. Being neat and generous, I left Heather to sit in the shade and eat, while I proceeded to the hostel and did battle with a banking system to rival their postal system. To be fair, it was a stupid rich tourist, who took 55 minutes trying to pay by Mastercard (not accepted by the hotel) who before the receptionist lost patience and hit him to go to an atm, something I had been itching to suggest for the last 54.5 minutes.

So I finally get a room for a mere 106 K, and sprint back to Heather before she decided to try and find me.

We collapsed in our room. I managed to wash all my clothes, shower and brush my teeth (just time for about 30 hours - and I was smelling quite foul too!) before falling asleep for a pleasant, but short, 3 hours.

The groggy effect of interrupted sleep rapidly were off as we hopped out into the searing afternoon heat. Our route took us down to the Beach (the only sand in Split) to gaze, disturbed, at the hoards of beach-goers crammed in and floundering in the shallow waters like ants scurrying from a disturbed nest.

From there we headed into, and through, town, and out the other side to the beaches south of the wooded spit of Split. A gravel beach, small but not packed, was a step up from Roviny? (rocky,escarpment, and Heather managed a slightly more if not completely, dignified swim.

At my gentle insistance we rose as the sun was descending towards the western isles, setting the sea ablaze with bright, glittery light, and set off into the sunset. Following the coastal road out to the its Farthest point and back on the North side. Half the peninsular has been set aside as a pedestrianised parks with the road split into bike and foot paths. Our walk was accompanied by a host of walther walkers, cyclists, joggers, roller bladers and a very noisy crickets, and ended with us poised at the North west of the old town, route planned to take us past as many restaurants as possible in the vain hope that weather might make her decision.

It was, to £ put it bluntly, a shock when we went into the first place we passed, sat down and ordered. It turned out to be a particularly popular place and a considerable amount of waiting, but the entertainment provided by the kids entertained and manually frankly waiter. We also had the amazing ambiances of the nervous night gods clarified, and Heather thrillified herself by sharing to a Turkey salad (and beer).

When we finally escaped we sampled the delights of the winding maze of streets of the old town, with numerous hidden cafes jammed into every crack and cranny back and cranny before straggling back to the hotel before our aching legs gave way beneath us.