Life in Split (Part 2/2) REVISED

We continue our explorations both north and south on the Dalmatian Coast

Oh dear, it seems something went wrong. Half the blog didn't get published! I blame Blogger (but they may be of a different opinion). Please read the section on Dubrovnik below...

Zadar

Up the coast from Trogir is a larger town, Zadar. Since the bus takes almost four hours to get to Zadar from our base in Split we made this an overnight trip. Paula found us a nice Airbnb on the edge of the old town, and we just took our backpacks (leaving the laptops and heavy suitcase back in Split).

Gate into Zadar, built by the Venetians.

And nothing says "Venetian" like the lion of St. Mark, symbol of Venice! (Detail from the gate.)

Like every town along this coast Zadar has a long and complicated history. It’s been continuously inhabited since at least the 9^th Century BCE. It was a major Roman settlement in the First and Second Centuries CE. Sacked by the Venetians in 1202, and passed around to various kingdoms, Venice bought it back in the early 1400s. It was ruled by the French, briefly, during the Napoleonic era, and then became part of Italy, with disastrous consequences in World War II. Seen as a hot-bed for German activity, Zadar was bombed, heavily, by the Allies (it became known as the “Dresden of the Adriatic”), destroying the waterfront and 80 % of the city itself.

According to information placards in the town, throughout the 1960’s all of Zadar was a construction site as the wreckage from the war was cleared out. Interestingly, this led to important discoveries as construction crews found remains of ancient Roman buildings below the rubble. The results of this “rescue archeology” can be found in the small but impressive archeology museum in town, and in the open-air museum called the Forum, where bits and pieces of Roman buildings are arrayed where they were found.

The Forum, with various chunks of Roman ruins. St. Donatus church in the background.

Same scene, at night (and note the flea market stalls in the foreground!)

Paula and the interior of St. Donatus; we're told concerts are held in here!

Many of the Roman finds are now in the excellent archeology museum located across from the Forum. We're not such great museum goers, but we found this one to be very well done, with some extraordinary artifacts from Zadar and the surrounding region. Also a few life-sized statues of emperors, and one of Jupiter (the Roman god, not the planet). 

Glass bottles from Roman tombs, dated from the 2nd Century.

It's hard to tell their size, but these babies hold about a half-gallon (two liters?), also from the 2nd C. Extraordinary!

Intricate ceremonial scissors, also from a 2nd C. tomb, with some clay lamps.

From a 6th-Century church. Looks Celtic to me...

Two more recent attractions in Zadar are the Sea Organ and the Monument to the Sun.  I can’t say much about the latter, as it was under repair while we were in Zadar. (I’m getting used to seeing old buildings and monuments under repair, covered with scaffolding: Big Ben in London, under refurbishment for the next few years; Hagia Sophia, the magnificent mosque in Istanbul, its vast interior now obscured by construction; Rumi’s tomb in Konya, Turkey, also under repair. But hey, the Monument to the Sun was installed in 2008! But it, too, was under repair…)

Monument to the Sun, large circular solar panel installation with flashy lights at night (or so I'm told...)

I found the Sea Organ, built into the new waterfront, fascinating. Five independent sets of harmonically-tuned pipes emit tones as the ocean surges against the sea wall. Relatively quiet in the calm of the morning, much more active in the evening breeze, it’s an ongoing reminder of the constant motion of the sea.

The sea wall, with vents for the Sea Organ (left foreground). Ugljan Island in the background.

And, the sunset. Alfred Hitchcock apparently passed through here in 1964 and commented on the fine sunset. Since Hitchcock is such a noted authority on sunsets (snark), sunset watching is now considered a must-do activity in Zadar. Admittedly, there is a nice view from the waterfront across the Zadar Channel to the island of Ugljan, and we did have an entirely satisfactory sunset experience. Paula calls it our “Shirley Valentine” moment…. 

An entirely satisfying sunset experience!

Here starts the part you didn't see...

Ah, and the boatman! Old-town Zadar is on a peninsula separated from the mainland by the harbor. It’s about a half-hour walk around to the mainland; a newly-constructed pedestrian bridge cuts that in half. But the boatman makes the trip across the harbor mouth in a few minutes. Today, even with the bridge, the boatman is still there (or his son, or grandson, or great-grandson…), still carrying passengers. After a visit to a great wine store in the new town we were half way to the bridge when Paula said, no, wait! We headed back, past the fishing boats and the mega-yachts, to the boatman’s dock.

Five minutes later (at a cost of 6 Kuna – $1USD – each) we were climbing out on the other side. (I took the boatman’s proffered forearm for support: it had the stability and solidly of the stone quay!) A refreshing bit of the old world.

The boatman, working his way back across the harbour mouth.

Oh, and Paula helped. Always wanting to be part of the action, half-way across Paula asked if she could have a turn with the oars. The genial boatman turned them over to her. We managed to reach the quay anyway…

The boatman gets a few moments rest as Paula takes over.

Dubrovnik

Two years ago on our first trip to Croatia we spent five weeks in Dubrovnik, and came up to Split to spend a couple of days. It seemed only right that on this trip, when we’re staying in Split for a month, that we should spend a couple of days in Dubrovnik. Which we did! Paula was even able to book the same apartment where we stayed last time. We spent a couple of evenings on the terrace staring out to sea,  watching the sky darken and the lights come on in the city, as we did nearly every night during our stay two years ago. We also had a chance to meet our previous landlord, which was a nice re-connection.

VIew from the bus window along the way to Dubrovnik

The town of Drasnice, far below the road to Dubrovnik

We ticked all the boxes in Dubrovnik. We walked the 20 minutes to the old city; marveled at the ancient walls (one of the very few cities with its mediaeval walls still intact); complained about all the tourists; lamented the many cruise ships that stop here. (And learned that the new mayor will be limiting the number of those ships, to preserve the experience of the city.) Walked through the now-familiar streets, visited some of our favorite spots, including the bar clinging to the outside of the walls, high above the sea.

The rugged coast, seen along our walk to the Old Town.

The Pile Gate, main entrance to the Old Town (and one of only two land entrances to the city).

One of the city's main streets, complete with tourists.

The Lion Fountain in the Old Town.

The formidable walls of Dubrovnik, seen from the outside bar

The next day we headed off in the opposite direction, to the area called Lapad. A deep bay is enclosed by fingers of forested hills, with gentile wind waves lapping on a narrow, gravel beach. (Which is standard along this coast: beaches tend to be vanishingly narrow and very rocky!) Along one shore a pedestrian path winds through the trees at the base of the hill, overlooking the blue, blue waters along the rocky shore. Across those blue, blue waters is Lapad, a protected hillside covered in trees. All in all it’s an area of natural beauty and quiet elegance, a nice balance to the hectic stone old town at the other end of Dubrovnik.

View back along the coast towards the beach.

Like most beaches along this coast, it's small and rocky. But the water is great!

A short way down this path is the Cave Bar, our favorite bar and what we’re sure must be the best bar on the Dalmatian Coast. It is built into a cave in the hillside, complete with sparkly crystals in the walls and a deep blue pool. But we prefer the outside, where tables and relaxing chairs are set in niches in the rocks with ladders ready to help swimmers out of the sea below. We wanted to swim off the Cave bar last year but just didn't get around to it before it closed. So this visit it was high on our to-do list. We swam, sipped our drinks and studied the blue water and the green trees, watching the occasional tourist boat pass. It’s timeless…

Inside the Cave Bar... but who wants to be inside on a day like this?

Paula in the shade at the cave bar.

The next day we were on the high-speed ferry at 4PM, headed back up the coast to Split. It's funny, both the bus, which we took on the way down, and the ferry take the same four hours to make the trip. Each has exquisite views of the coast: one from the land, the other from the sea. I’m glad we tried both. It was a good excursion!

Our ride back: a fast dual-hull ferry.

One of the ferry stops on the way back to Split. The town of Pomena, on the island of Mljet.

This will be our last bog from Croatia! By the time you read this we will have moved on to our winter quarters in Spain: Alicante, on the Med coast, for the month of November, and in Seville for Christmas and New Years.

Full moon rising over the Split harbor. A parting gift on our almost-last day there!

Perhaps on our next blog we'll compare beaches in Alicante with beaches in Dalmatia...

Life in Split (Part 1/2)

Tonight we are sitting in the open air, inside the ancient Diocletian’s Palace, in the square known as the Peristil. Back in the day, the Emperor – who was regarded as a god, the son of Jupiter – would appear on his balcony overlooking this square for adulation. Today it’s still a gathering spot. Every night a lightly-amplified singer sets up on the steps outside the restaurant, the music reverberating through the stone buildings. It’s a soft, pleasant October evening, the weather hasn’t changed yet, and most people are in shorts and tee-shirts.

The Peristil at night: Diocletian's balcony in the center, arches and pillars on the left

Paula and I are seated on a stone ledge, entranced by the night, by the location, and the whole scene, as we learn the singer “Could not find what I’m looking for”, but still, he promised that “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight,” even though “I left the cake out in the rain.” A “Purple Rain”, apparently. And all this must have happened “Yesterday.” (English and American music? This is definitely a tourist crowd!) I glance up. Above our heads rises a heavy carved archway, supported by stone pillars collected from all over the ancient world and mounted here 1800 years ago; a black granite Egyptian sphinx looks on quietly, as it has every night for the last 5,000 years.

The Sphinx. Emperor Diocletian brought a dozen from Egypt; only a couple have been found.

Me and the sphinx (he's not so big after all).

Back at our apartment:   We’re likin’ our neighborhood in Split! The other day Ante, the son of our landlord, was showing us around the “enclave,” and telling us what it was like to grow up here. This is where the poor people lived, he told us the night he picked us up at the airport (and a good thing, too, because we arrived at midnight and never would have found our way through this labyrinth, not even with the help of a taxi driver!) Now, the influx of tourists over the last decade or two has made these winding streets and stone buildings very popular, and every homeowner has at least one rental unit available.

This fountain was a source of drinking water for the neighborhood, before indoor plumbing.

Ante led us past the wall that marks our part of the enclave. It opens up suddenly into a small garden, with fruit trees, trellises, and some good old dirt for growing things, all surrounded by three-story stone buildings and aging stone walls. There wasn’t much privacy here, he explained, but a lot of intimacy. (A profound statement, I thought, especially for one whose native language is not English.) You always knew when, for example, your neighbors’ kids were going through puberty. Oh, I get that! In just the short weeks we’ve been here we have noticed and catalogued the habits of our unknown neighbors: when they’re up and fixing breakfast; at home with the TV on during the day; when the grandkids come over to play.

There’s a little football field (well, we call it soccer in the US) over there, he says, pointing. You go up the road, and turn left at the old split tree…  Later, we did that, locating the old tree and wandering through the alleys and pathways. We found the field, where a father was playing with his infant daughter while his son, barely old enough to walk, kicked a ball around. It felt intimate; in fact, it felt invasive, to those of us who grew up in the wide open suburbs where everybody has their own, carefully fenced, yard. But nobody so much as glanced at us; we were just passersby on the public walkway. And I understood how this could be a great place to grow up. I’m sure kids in the area know every path: which goes where, the ones that connect to another street, and those that dead-end at someone’s front door.

 

A little chapel hidden in the 'hood

But we don’t spend much time in our immediate neighborhood. We pass through the “old town,” the palace, regularly, and have explored the wider area a bit, especially the Marjan Forest Park. And we’ve also visited a few outlying towns…

Trogir

Our first day trip, a nice ocean cruise. OK, it was a 60-minute ferry ride through the bay to the small town of Trogir. It was great to get out on the water, after so much time spent on Split’s docks! Trogir is located west of Split, just past the airport, where the mainland narrows down and points seaward, and the adjacent island narrows down and points landward, leaving a slim gap. A couple of bridges added in recent times means the island is well-connected to mainland Croatia, and larger boats can no longer make it through that gap. But that’s ok; our boat was small enough to fit under the first bridge, and we enjoyed several hours in the small town before taking the afternoon ferry back.

Arriving in Trogir by boat

Nothing says VENICE! like these windows

Like all towns in this area, Trogir shows a strong Venetian influence in its architecture. Long before Italy became a country (which didn’t happen until the 19^th Century) Venice was a powerful city-state. Once its navy drove the pirates out of the Adriatic and kept the shipping lanes clear, the city got very very rich on trade, exchanging goods with regions as far away as Greece and North Africa. And its influence is apparent all over the region.

The clock tower of St Sebastian's Church, from the 15th Cent. (Does this clock make me look like Venice?)

There’s not a lot to Trogir, but wandering the old narrow streets squeezed between ancient stone buildings gives a view to another era, another lifetime. We spent a pleasant afternoon exploring, and listening to the Croatian klapa singers (a melodic, harmonic a cappella folk music). At the Cathedral of St. Lawrence, with its richly carved portal finished in 1240, there are carved stone lions, nearly identical to those in Split. And, we found Đovani, which may well be the best pastry shop on the Dalmatian Coast. By the time the boat left to take us back to Split, we felt our day had been well spent.

Klapa singers in Trogir, Croatia

Cathedral of St Lawrence. Cool carvings!

Another view of the portal to St Lawrence. Stone lions much like those in Split, plus Adam and Eve (above the  lions)

Say good-by to Trogir!

Klis Fortress

The Dalmatian Coast is incredibly rugged, with sharp coastal peaks dropping suddenly to the sea. These mountains provide a nearly impenetrable barrier, protecting coastal dwellers for centuries. Just north of Split, though, there is a cut through the mountains. And rising up from this valley is a narrow ridge. It’s clear that whoever controls the valley controls the coast, and whoever controls this ridge controls the valley… and therefore the coast. This ridge, now called the Klis Fortress, has been fortified for at least 2000 years.

Klis Fortress, seen from the town of Klis

Looking out from Klis towards Split and the Marjan Park on a hazy day

Every fort must have a cannon, right? Here's one at Klis.

Klis was governed by the Knights Templar for a time in the 12^th Century; it held off the Mongols and the Ottoman Empire… for a while. Suleiman the Magnificent did eventually capture Klis (16^th C.), and the Turks held it for about a century. Napoleon Bonaparte captured it in 1790, after which, due to the changing nature of warfare, the fortress lost much of its value. And today, it’s remembered mainly as a filming location for Game of Thrones (a stand-in for the city of Meereen).

Klis Fortress today

The City of Meereen from the Game of Thrones video (image from Google Images)

I found the thrills of Klis to be mainly historical. Now it’s just a ruin, although there are attempts to install a museum and historical information. Still, we thought 60 Kuna (about $10USD) a bit stiff for entry. It has potential for fabulous views, although it was quite hazy the day we were there. Finding our way there on the city bus was fun, even if we spent the morning figuring out when, exactly, the bus would arrive in downtown Split.

View towards the coast from Klis Fortress

While I’m glad we went up there, all in all, I’d say a rating of three stars out of five is about right.

               Up next: further explorations up and down the Dalmatian Coast

Croatia, Split, and the Dalmatian Coast

We’re now in Split, the second-largest city in Croatia, located on the gorgeous Dalmatian Coast.

It’s raining today, pouring down, with the occasional flash of lighting and boom of thunder. Can’t see much from our little enclave, just heavy rain and sheets of water flowing across the sloped patio. A great time to update the blog!

We have no real plans right now, apart from exploring the area (and there is a lot to explore!). After a month of constant travel, through Prague, Vienna, and Turkey, we’re happy to sit here for a while and catch up. We chose to come here because of a brief visit two years ago. While staying in Dubrovnik, the dot at the bottom of the backward question mark that is the shape of Croatia, we rode the bus up the coast and spent two days here. Split actually comprises a large metropolitan area, but the center of the city is small enough that we felt immediately at home.

But first, we need to get something clear: are there dogs on this coast? Well, just the normal kind, actually; I haven't seen one of those spotted puppies since the Disney movie.  The story is that the breed of dog was named Dalmatian because the many dark spots on the dog’s coat was reminiscent of the many islands spotting the sea. Or so I’m told…

The core of Split is Diocletian’s Palace, the retirement home built by the Roman Emperor Diocletian in the 4^th Century. It’s still impressive, even with its plethora of tourist shops, cafes, restaurants, and high-end hotels. Wandering through the palace I study the high arches and elaborately carved stone; the cream-colored pavers in the walkway, shiny after a millennium of buffing by the shoe leather of many pedestrians; the brick barrel-arched vaulting of the subterranean passages.

Daytime view of a square in Diocletian's Palace

The Cathedral tower at night, from inside the Palace

 

Nighttime view of the main square in the Palace

Underground chamber of the Palace as art gallery
(And GoT fans:  some of these underground chambers were used as the dragon pits in Meereen)

Then we emerge onto the waterfront, the riva, a broad plaza with cafes and palm trees. Sit for a bit; sip a coffee. Watch the tour boats (3-Island Tour! Jet ski! Visit the islands! Blue Lagoon!) as they load their passengers and head out, past the ferry docks where larger boats have just arrived or are waiting to depart. These larger boats provide regular service to the many tiny villages on the islands sprinkled all up and down the coast. Further out, beyond the breakwater, are the truly massive cruise ships, tall as a ten-story building, large as a city block. We hear the distant, deep-throated blast of their horns each evening as they prepare to depart, warning their passengers to get back on board. Since the ancient Greeks and before, this area was a center of trade, with people and goods passing up and down the Adriatic from Venice to Greece and back. And from our spot on the riva, contemplating the whole scene, we see that they still do.

The riva, or waterfront, full of cafes. A pleasant place to walk, or sit and watch the harbor.

Rooftop view of Split, with the tower of the Cathedral of St. Dominus (XIV C.) on the left. There's a couple of cruise ships in the harbor!

View of Split from out in the harbor. The back country is very rugged!

Actually, though, we’re headed home now. We turn past the end of the Palace up the broad shiny street (I love those polished, cream-colored paving stones!), and part-way up turn again onto a narrow, rough cobbled street past the funny “no bathing suits” sign. Here’s that café we checked out our first day, looking for lunch; we were told they don’t do food, only drink. And every day we see the same people here, sitting and talking with their beer and cigarettes.

I guess the locals aren't keen on bikinis in their neighborhoods.

Typical street in Split, once out of the downtown area.

A little chapel we found wandering the back streets.

Further up the road narrows; no room for cars now, but we’re still startled and annoyed by the motor scooters, working their way up the increasingly steep hill. Finally we turn off to an even narrower but now level path, and a final turn into the passageway that ends in the green iron gate to our little enclave.

The green iron gate to our little enclave.

And here the city gets interesting, for those of us brought up in modern American towns with broad streets and individual houses. Our little space is surrounded by three- and four-story square buildings, built in different eras and seemingly placed at random. I really have no idea who lives here, or how many homes these buildings represent. There’s an older woman to my left leaning out a window shaking out a rug; voices behind me; and the people in the basement facing our front door talking loudly as they do every morning (woke me up the first day! Now we keep our windows closed…).

Our terrace; these are very common along the Dalmatian Coast. That's our place, on the right.

Me? Oh, I’m sitting by our front door on the terrace, a feature that is common to homes here, covered by vines growing on a steel framework. The small orange tree, the potted palm, the succulents growing out of the stonework all give a refreshing connection to nature in this stone environment.

View from my terrace "office." We really like sitting out here!

Today we’re going to the park, Marjan Forest Park, that fills the peninsula to the west of the city center.  Emperor Diocletian set this area aside as parkland, so it has been a preserved area for a very long time. To get there, we leave our little enclave, out the green gates and through the passageways to the cobbled lane. This time, though, we turn left, up the hill away from town. The lane slowly widens, and eventually ends at a paved road. We zig zag through a few intersections and climb the hill to the overlook café. Best views of the city here, we’re told. I won’t argue with that!

The town of Split, with the Marjan Forest Park behind

Narrow streets? Part of the charm.

As we climb the hills to the park, the views keep getting better.

Split harbor from the overlook at Marjan Park.

The stone chapel in Marjan Park, dedicated to fisheman (Of which there are many in Split!)

After a pause to catch our breath we continue on the path: no cars allowed on this part! We climb on the broad, well-maintained walkway, gazing out to the blue Adriatic to the south. Well, the bay, really; there’s multiple layers of islands between Split and the open Adriatic. Makes for calm water, and adds to the beauty and intrigue of this part of the Mediterranean. On the horizon we see the mountains on these overlapping islands as shades of gray, fading into the distance.

A view over the harbor to the islands in the far distance.

We turn off the walkway into the woods. It’s clear people have been tramping these hills for a very long time, and there’s nothing really new here. Except, WE haven’t been here before, and the old stone church, the long-abandoned foundations, and even the crumbling concrete steps seem mysterious and worthy of exploration. Further up this mountain (well ok, at 178 m / 584 ft it’s more of a hill, but it is the highest thing around) we’ve seen caves cut into the rock walls. That’s worth exploring, but not today. Enough climbing; let’s go to the beach!

Well, the beach will be next week's adventure. Tomorrow we're going up the coast to Zadar, another small Dalmatian town, for an overnight.     
More on that -- and the beaches of Split -- later.