NORMAL LIFE: Sibenik & Split (Croatian Summer, Part 2)

Day 4 – Daytrip to Krka National Park

Breakfast this morning was an ordeal; it seemed that all the neighbouring hotels in the resort descended on one food hall that was dispensing the usual fayre, as well as sausages and french fries. When we finally got seated, we were surrounded by people tucking into plates of chips. Even the kids were being encouraged to eat chips. For breakfast! Bizarre! After breakfast, we got into the stuffy heat of the car and headed to Krka National Park, just 15km east of Sibenik. On our way, we soared over the city of Sibenik. Once we drove over some kind of ridge, the scene ahead of us was the remnant of a forest fire with blackened and lifeless tree stumps dotting the landscape.

We arrived at the somewhat modest car park supposedly being the entrance of a 'spectacular' National Park. We bought the entrance tickets and waited for the bus to take us to the attractions which, even though I had seen some basically promotional material, still eluded understanding. As the bus departed, we headed down a narrow gravel drive and, over a slight hill, we entered an awesome canyon, which featured pots of water far below. Soon, those ‘pots of water’ would in fact be huge lakes.

According to the Lonely Planet guide, the 72.5km Krka River and its waterfalls define the landscape of Sibenik-Knin county and are the focus of the region. The river water formed a deep canyon (up to 200m) through the limestone and bought with it calcium carbonate. Mosses and algae retain the calcium carbonate and encrust it in their roots. The material is called tufa and is formed by billion of plants that grown on top of one another. It is these growths, apparently, that create the barriers in the river which produce waterfalls. Among the possible excursions was a visit to the Samostan Visovac, a Monastry located on an island in the centre of one of the lakes, but we set off instead along the delightful nature walks which offered wonderful views of the gushing waterfalls.

After we while, we emerged from the humidity of the densely forested nature trail replete with lizards, newts and all other kinds of creep crawlies to see Skradinski Buk falls, the trademark 800-metre long cascading waterfall of the Krka National Park covering 17 steps. Packed with tourists, we let some time pass before we attempted to enter the rock pool; we grabbed an ice cream in the shade. I could feel my skin tingling, the onset of sunburn. After a while, we took it in turns to enter the rock pool while the other guarded our possessions. The bed of the river was truly rocky, sharp in places, but eventually I managed to get into the cool water amidst the crowds. I took a moment to sit on the rocks and, in the silence without being able to wear my hearing device in the water, watched in wonder at the awesome mini-Niagara endlessly spilling tonnes of water nearby.

When we moved on, we crossed the river, taking one last glance of Skradinski Buk. As we left the wooden bridge, we came to a series of deserted water mills which had been tastefully refurbished to house a number of souvenir stores selling t-shirts, postcards and the like. Nearby was a blacksmith demonstration with two men in traditional dress working to create horseshoes. As we continued our walk, we were given one last view of the gushing waterfalls further up the Krka River.

Later in the afternoon, we got the bus back up to the car park; it was far too hot (more than 30ºC) to contemplate walking back up the canyon! We got back to the hotel about 3pm. Bree went to the beach to catch some late afternoon sun while I stayed in the room to give my sunburnt skin a rest. I pampered myself with a long shower, and a close shave before slumping into bed. I woke up at 7pm to find Bree snoozing beside me. I pulled myself closer for a hug and, gradually, we got ready to head into town.

About 8pm, we order a taxi to take us into Sibenik. The driver dropped us off at the southern end of the promenade, close to the modernist statue of Kresimir IV, ruler of Dalmatia (1058 – 1074). The sun was an hour away from setting and the warm orange glow graced Bree’s handsome features. We walked along the promenade, nearing a huge massive boat registered in the Cayman Islands, clearly the possession of some wealthy businessman. Crowds gathered, hoping to catch a glimpse of the affluent occupants.

On this Thursday evening, the bars and restaurants dotting the promenade were deserted. Meanwhile, the sun was sinking every second, nearly reaching contact with the land on the other side of the Sibenik Channel. We found the restaurant recommended by the taxi driver, Peskarija, where I ate Crapesce Salad followed by a huge Fish Platter of king prawns, grilled squid, octopus and a a fillet of fish, which we shared. Surpringly yummy! We then had ice-cream, but it was clear they were running low as there was so little of it! The waitress was fantastic however, visibly embarrassed by the lack of ice-cream and rushed off her feet.

As the day came to an end, we walked through Sibenik’s old town, determined to return in the morning to take in the sites properly. We slumped into bed just after midnight.

Day 5 – Sibenik to Split

After another breakfast in the food hall full of miserable people stuffing their faces with chips, we headed straightaway into the Old Town. Sibenik has had a turbulent history, with it’s first mention recorded in the 11th Century. The city was conquered by Venice in 1116, but was tossed back and forth among Venice, Hungary, Byzantium and the Kingdom of Bosnia until Venice seized control in 1412. At the end of the 15th Century, Ottoman Turks burst into the region as part of their struggle against Venice. As we parked up in a narrow street of the old town, we visited one of the forts built by the Venetians to defend the city which still towers high above the Sibenik Channel.

It was a roasting hot morning and, as we ascended the steps to the St. Ana Fortress, I broke into a sweat. At the top, we admired the views over the City and the nearby masses of land, now able to visualise the inlet that lead to the Adriatic Sea and, beyond, Italy. Upon our descent, we made our way back into the old town, taking in Sibenik’s crowning glory, the Cathedral of St Jacob, reputedly the most magnificent cathedral on the Dalmatian Coast. We passed the miniscule Church of St. Barbara before reaching an ornate square similar to that of St. Marks in Venice albeit on a much smaller scale.

It was necessary for us to move on as we wanted to reach Split before the evening. We located the car through the many narrow streets and drove to the nearby Jolly Shopping Centre to buy some food for the afternoon. We passed various towns, accompanied by Annie Lenox’s album, Diva, arriving in Split just after 3pm. Lost in the city, we pulled up to a street-side kiosk and, without leaving the car, I asked the young girl if she could tell me where our hotel was. In perfect English, she gave clear instructions which, on this occasion, took us to our intended destination, the unimaginatively named Hotel Split. The hotel itself, however, was wonderful, gracing something I wanted more than anything: a swimming pool

We stayed by the pool until 6pm. After a swim, I continued reading the Finnish epic, The Unknown Soldier. In our hotel room, we drank what was left of the litre of Martini Bianco we had bought at Budapest Airport before sharing a bathtub of steaming, soapy water. At 7pm, we grabbed a cab from reception, bound for the impressive Diocletian’s Palace (a UNESCO World Heritage site), named after the Roman Emperor of the same name reknowned for his persecution of early Christians; he spent his retirement here from 295 to 305.

We arrived just outside the walls of the Old City and, as we got out of the taxi, were stunned by the crowds of people swarming through a nearby market. Split is the second largest city in Croatia with a population of nearly 180,000 people, and is protected by countless islands located in the Brackt Channel.

We waded through the crowds, soon immersed in the some 200 buildings within the palace's boundaries which still houses some 3,000 residents as well as shops, cafes and restaurants. Apparently, the marble was imported from Italy and Greece while columns and sphinxes were imported from Egypt. The Emperor clearly spared no expense in the building of the 31,000 sq metre site, which served as a military fortress, imperial residence and fortified town.

Before settling down for dinner, we scaled the tower of St. Domnius Cathedral to take in the views of Split, both its bustly interior as well as its pleasing harbour view, complimented by rugged islands.

Sometime later, we had settled into Restaurant Kanava in one of the bustling, ornate marble squares. We were fortunate to have a table outside so that we could watch the world go by while eating a Seafood Plate, a Mixed Grill and Cream Caramel. Throughout the meal, Bree and I joked about the four Swedish people sitting nearby. When they entered the bar, they looked so orange and there’s something odd about Swedish men for they always seem to be wearing some kind of make-up. Heaven forbid somebody should see any lines on their faces, eh? Anyhow, the four of them resembled models in a waxwork museum.

After dinner, we walked through the remainder of the market stalls that were open, before settling down amongst the crowds to enjoy the breeze offered by the harbour. When I talk about breeze, it’s more of a whiff as you can smell the sewage, a kind of rotten egg smell! Yuk! Back at the hotel, we had a drink on the tiny balcony and stared out at the blackness of the sea. Bacardi in hand, I took a deep breath, truly starting to enjoy the holiday now that the worries of normal every day life were starting to become a distant memory.