Trip report: Kayaking, Riding and fall in Split, Croatia
Sep 27th, 2014, 06:26 PM
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Trip report: Kayaking, Riding and fall in Split, Croatia
Europe has always escaped me, so this fall I plan to remedy that problem by kayaking the Adriatic with Jammin' Adventures and the Konjicki Club Horseback riding out of Split. The first was an adventure offered by The Clymb, the other I found on line, and the other I found by researching horses on line.
I would love to hear any thoughts from anyone who has either kayaked or ridden in these areas. Notes about October weather from those who've been there would be priceless. I will be back with stories when close to wi-fi!
I would love to hear any thoughts from anyone who has either kayaked or ridden in these areas. Notes about October weather from those who've been there would be priceless. I will be back with stories when close to wi-fi!
Oct 1st, 2014, 07:55 PM
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It's always good to travel with a sense of humor especially when it comes to plumbing and radiators.
Zagreb was overcast and cool, lowering grey clouds and a bit of rain had hit before we landed. When I fly east I get nasty jet lag. I tottered down the stairs to my rooms in a fog. No one was there. Rang all available door bells. Nothing. Eventually my landlady showed up with an armload of groceries, and she got me settled in to my perfectly nice rooms on this perfectly nice side street and I collapsed face first onto this perfectly nice bed and snored hard for about an hour or so before my screaming empty stomach declared war.
A trip to the main drag gave us a McDonald's, no thank you. Fruit market preferred. I found a lively bottle blond apple purveyor who grabbed my map and commenced to pantomime directions until she had me in stitches. I didn't understand her at all. I'm sure she thought I was addled, and her gyrations and hand gestures got increasingly exaggerated until I was beside myself. She was rescued by two Croatians who pointed me down a main drag, where, two blocks later, I found the open market I sought. Under bright red umbrellas were laid out acres of fresh fruit and veggies, muscat grapes and pineapples, smooth yellow bananas and mandarins, all for ridiculously low prices. One enthusiastic proprietor loaded me up with nearly ten pounds of fruit for four bucks.
As the evening pressed on, the temperature dropped. There is a fine radiator in my room, but I am quite unable to sort out how it works. However, having traveled Vietnam in winter where heat is unheard of, I brought layers. But bath first.
There's a massive tub in the toilet, a fine old fashioned thing too, which takes up most of the room. The hot water supply is very generous and for once I really can fill the tub nearly full, so I do. Lobster cooking hot. Ease in. Fall asleep. Ahhhhhhh. Heaven. Thirty minutes later I ease out and stand on the thin towel next to the tub to dry off. Pull out the plug.
Suddenly I realize my feet are being covered with waves of water. I leap off the towel and push it aside. Sure enough, there's a drain on the floor, where the water from the tub is gushing up as quickly as the tub is draining. Apparently some wag of a Croatian plumber decided that what goes down must come up. And up it came, every drop of it.
Now the other part of it was that this drain is on a high point on the floor, so after pouring forth all the water from the tub, water doing what it does, it settled happily everywhere but back down the drain. So for the next thirty minutes I spent coaxing cooling water with my foot up to the drainage point. And getting cold.
Those wily Croatian plumbers. Bring a sponge.
Zagreb was overcast and cool, lowering grey clouds and a bit of rain had hit before we landed. When I fly east I get nasty jet lag. I tottered down the stairs to my rooms in a fog. No one was there. Rang all available door bells. Nothing. Eventually my landlady showed up with an armload of groceries, and she got me settled in to my perfectly nice rooms on this perfectly nice side street and I collapsed face first onto this perfectly nice bed and snored hard for about an hour or so before my screaming empty stomach declared war.
A trip to the main drag gave us a McDonald's, no thank you. Fruit market preferred. I found a lively bottle blond apple purveyor who grabbed my map and commenced to pantomime directions until she had me in stitches. I didn't understand her at all. I'm sure she thought I was addled, and her gyrations and hand gestures got increasingly exaggerated until I was beside myself. She was rescued by two Croatians who pointed me down a main drag, where, two blocks later, I found the open market I sought. Under bright red umbrellas were laid out acres of fresh fruit and veggies, muscat grapes and pineapples, smooth yellow bananas and mandarins, all for ridiculously low prices. One enthusiastic proprietor loaded me up with nearly ten pounds of fruit for four bucks.
As the evening pressed on, the temperature dropped. There is a fine radiator in my room, but I am quite unable to sort out how it works. However, having traveled Vietnam in winter where heat is unheard of, I brought layers. But bath first.
There's a massive tub in the toilet, a fine old fashioned thing too, which takes up most of the room. The hot water supply is very generous and for once I really can fill the tub nearly full, so I do. Lobster cooking hot. Ease in. Fall asleep. Ahhhhhhh. Heaven. Thirty minutes later I ease out and stand on the thin towel next to the tub to dry off. Pull out the plug.
Suddenly I realize my feet are being covered with waves of water. I leap off the towel and push it aside. Sure enough, there's a drain on the floor, where the water from the tub is gushing up as quickly as the tub is draining. Apparently some wag of a Croatian plumber decided that what goes down must come up. And up it came, every drop of it.
Now the other part of it was that this drain is on a high point on the floor, so after pouring forth all the water from the tub, water doing what it does, it settled happily everywhere but back down the drain. So for the next thirty minutes I spent coaxing cooling water with my foot up to the drainage point. And getting cold.
Those wily Croatian plumbers. Bring a sponge.
Oct 4th, 2014, 11:05 PM
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The lovely landlady at Kvatric rooms- and she really was- made sure I had a taxi at 4:30 in the morning and not only was she there to make sure I got it but was assisting me with my gear to boot. It was chilly and overcast, and Split was too. My guide at Jammin' Adventures picked me up and off we drove along sweet winding roads through the hills and white houses with red roofs that lined the harbors along the coastline.
We arrived at Murter shortly before lunch and he settled me into my shared digs, a nice apartment surrounded by fruit trees and a lovely view of hills, houses, harbor and sunshine in every direction. We'd have seventies all week. He toured me through the small town, now left to its own after the huge summer crowds had finally left. The town's small streets are shared by pedestrians and small cars, people stroll at night down to the nearly-deserted pizzerias and relax in the cooler breezes. Daytime is busy with the sound of repairs put off til fall. Everywhere greenery spills over walls, the sunlight casts brilliant butter onto flowers of all kinds and the pomegranites grow heavy on the trees. In all, a simply lovely, charming, beautiful place.
My guide sped off to collect more adventurers and it was time to visit the local Konzum to get supplies for our kitchen. By 6 that evening our small group had gathered to talk about our kayaking itinerary. We were mostly from the States. Only one couple, Liz and Jeff, had landed without luggage, so they were going to brave the waves with what they had on their backs. From all we could see, the Adriatic was smooth as glass and looked to be that way the next day by mid-morning.
We arrived at Murter shortly before lunch and he settled me into my shared digs, a nice apartment surrounded by fruit trees and a lovely view of hills, houses, harbor and sunshine in every direction. We'd have seventies all week. He toured me through the small town, now left to its own after the huge summer crowds had finally left. The town's small streets are shared by pedestrians and small cars, people stroll at night down to the nearly-deserted pizzerias and relax in the cooler breezes. Daytime is busy with the sound of repairs put off til fall. Everywhere greenery spills over walls, the sunlight casts brilliant butter onto flowers of all kinds and the pomegranites grow heavy on the trees. In all, a simply lovely, charming, beautiful place.
My guide sped off to collect more adventurers and it was time to visit the local Konzum to get supplies for our kitchen. By 6 that evening our small group had gathered to talk about our kayaking itinerary. We were mostly from the States. Only one couple, Liz and Jeff, had landed without luggage, so they were going to brave the waves with what they had on their backs. From all we could see, the Adriatic was smooth as glass and looked to be that way the next day by mid-morning.
Oct 4th, 2014, 11:24 PM
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Our group launched off in slightly cloudy skies but perfect temperatures on the azure Adriatic, and made our way south along the coastline. Jammin' provides good, light kayaks and all the gear, the islands do all the rest, and the recipe results in a magnificent day of paddling along excellent coastline where you can peer deeply into the crystalline waters to see all kinds of wiggly things below. As we paddled, we saw dolphins which didn't normally come into that area, all kinds of leaping silver fish, and magnificent sailboats, the few who stayed to enjoy the warm October days.
After about three hours of paddling, we turned a corner past our lunch spot for a climbing break and beached our kayaks to do some exploring. Our guide promptly found some local denizens to share, including a cuttlefish, in the shallow waters. The rocks along the shoreline are chalk white, pockmarked and a bit crumbly to the touch. They make for some fascinating formations on the islands and sometimes questionable footing, but we climbed to a spot where a number of us took up the challenge to dive off the cliffs into the turquoise water. John, clearly one who loves a challenge, provided us with Kodak moments by performing flips and swan dives from the high rocks while the rest were happy with feet first.
By this time we were all famished with our guide's discussion of calamari so we loaded back up to round the corner and paddle to Stella Maris, where that was the order of the day. This sweet little spot sits at the back of a small harbor, protected by trees and rocks, and is clearly a local favorite. As we enjoyed lunch, we watched one local boil up the hill (not walk, boil- with several heart monitors, timing devices, the whole bit) and with great cheer greet the proprietors. He wasn't the only one to use the narrow walking trails for exercise. As we paddled north to our pickup point there were many swimmers and walkers along the rocky shoreline.
After about three hours of paddling, we turned a corner past our lunch spot for a climbing break and beached our kayaks to do some exploring. Our guide promptly found some local denizens to share, including a cuttlefish, in the shallow waters. The rocks along the shoreline are chalk white, pockmarked and a bit crumbly to the touch. They make for some fascinating formations on the islands and sometimes questionable footing, but we climbed to a spot where a number of us took up the challenge to dive off the cliffs into the turquoise water. John, clearly one who loves a challenge, provided us with Kodak moments by performing flips and swan dives from the high rocks while the rest were happy with feet first.
By this time we were all famished with our guide's discussion of calamari so we loaded back up to round the corner and paddle to Stella Maris, where that was the order of the day. This sweet little spot sits at the back of a small harbor, protected by trees and rocks, and is clearly a local favorite. As we enjoyed lunch, we watched one local boil up the hill (not walk, boil- with several heart monitors, timing devices, the whole bit) and with great cheer greet the proprietors. He wasn't the only one to use the narrow walking trails for exercise. As we paddled north to our pickup point there were many swimmers and walkers along the rocky shoreline.
Oct 5th, 2014, 09:32 AM
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What I didn't confess to and will admit to now was that all day yesterday in all those hours of kayaking I inexplicably kept tracking left, for a reason we never sorted out. My bright red kayak was determined to crank left despite changes in paddling style, body position, putting an edge on the right, exaggerating my movements to accommodate. I spent the whole summer on the rivers learning white water, which of course is a very different animal. But I have sea kayaked, and have never had this happen. So the guide and I went through every idea we could think of and ended up with my pushing with my right hand to put more into the left paddle. It helped.
Well unfortunately that did several other things. Instead of being able to hold the paddle like a delicate raw egg and simply move through the water, the effort it took to compensate for this lefty kayak (or some bad habit I've developed, more likely) left me with a right angry right elbow. I dunno about anyone else but I usually end a kayaking day on a high. Yesterday I climbed the stairs and did a face plant, fully dressed, on my bed, barely waking up four hours later to get ready for nine more hours. The kind guides are putting me in another kayak. If it also tracks left I know darned well it's pilot error- but at least there's Roc Tape, which now festoons said right elbow and helps a great deal.
Well unfortunately that did several other things. Instead of being able to hold the paddle like a delicate raw egg and simply move through the water, the effort it took to compensate for this lefty kayak (or some bad habit I've developed, more likely) left me with a right angry right elbow. I dunno about anyone else but I usually end a kayaking day on a high. Yesterday I climbed the stairs and did a face plant, fully dressed, on my bed, barely waking up four hours later to get ready for nine more hours. The kind guides are putting me in another kayak. If it also tracks left I know darned well it's pilot error- but at least there's Roc Tape, which now festoons said right elbow and helps a great deal.
Oct 5th, 2014, 10:12 AM
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This morning began with Tylenol and a very early yoga session. If anyone is familiar with Shiva Rea you can understand why I'm a fan, great solver of flexibility issues. Sent down the waiting van in a great humor and our group headed off for a mountain biking trip to explore the islands and nearby falls.
Now being a Colorado native, people assume you mountain bike. I rode bike. So my first time on this much heavier beast(oh sorry the shift's broken, you'll learn to feel it) was shall we say, awkward. Paul the guide watched me do a few turns and grabbed a second bike whose gears do work, so my only problem was being able to read them during the ride. (Note to self: next time, bring the bifocal sunglasses). We headed off, and my education began immediately, as within about twenty yards we had our first hill.
Ever have that dream where you're trying to move really fast and going nowhere? I WAS that dream today. I was doing just fine on the flat wind in the face, ahhhh, and then up we go. Uh right, this one, no, crap, that one UP no DOWN no so suddenly I'm halfway up the hill pedaling FURIOUSLY and going absolutley nowhere, and in fact standing so still that I'm pretty much about to go over. If anyone happens to remember that guy from Laugh In? That's the one.
I did, however, manage to stay upright, thanks in no small part to very fast footwork and very luckily finding the right lever, which I promptly forgot on the next hill. And the next. It was actually very funny. I'd get to the top, race like mad to catch up, do just fine, we'd all head down hill, I'd downshift and dammit if I didn't find myself madly pedaling halfway up again while the rest of the crew merrily disappeared around the corner. Non, my Vietnamese friend, kindly stayed back at one point to make sure I knew everyone was heading a sharp left.
I finally mastered the gears right about the time we made it to an utterly charming town that surrounded a 12th century fortress. Below it were lovely quiet streets (it was a Sunday) and we set up our bikes in a quiet alley to do some exploring.
The whole day we were delighted with sunshine and low to mid 70s temperatures, so we were in heaven. We climbed past centuries old buildings, crumbling walls that were perfect photos just of themselves and backdrops for each other. The top of the fortress had a lookout over the town, the harbor, the swans leaving wakes as they swam out to the clippers, and the clay topped houses below.
As we began our ride through town, we passed a couple getting married, the bride in a flowing white gown and the groom in light summer jacket. The photographer was scowling at us to get out of his shot, an the couple was completely besotted with each other.
We then rode our bikes to the Krka waterfalls, which entailed some entertaining biking down some mushy gravel at rather high speeds. Since even attempting this on my road bike would have had only one outcome, being able to not only stay seated but enoy the heck of the trip down (including speed bumps!) was a gas.
The falls are quite a show of terraces and forested areas which you can access by raised walkway. Warning, if you want to use the bathroom it's 5kn, or it's the woods, which isn't easy with all the traffic. It's always nicked me a bit when someone wants nearly a dollar for your right to pee in private but that's how it is here.
The falls provide a thorough misting an the varied views all provide a wonderfully different experience of the different colors that rangee from white to green to cobalt and everything inbetween. While it's touristy, it's still worth going to see, especially on a hot day when those mists are so cooling.
Our final work of the day was back up the hill over the speedbumps, through the mushy gravel, and back into town where Paul et al settled us into a little restaurant where everyone was eager for roast pork off the spit.
Tomorrow at 9 am we are back to kayaking, and with my booties and gear dry from that sweet island sun, I'm good to go. Jammin' Adventures has so far been very good about balancing a good bit of exercise and knowing just when to give walkaround time, or to throw the bikes or kayaks on teh van. The result is that we all feel as though we're getting an excellent workout and we also aren't so beaten up that we can't eenjoy the next day.
What I also have valued so far is that where there's been a learning curve for someone- whether it's a mountain bike for me or something for someone else, there is just enough instruction and then you take it and put it to work. They don't make a big deal out of it, nor do they treat you like an imbecile. You just figure it out. That so works.
Now being a Colorado native, people assume you mountain bike. I rode bike. So my first time on this much heavier beast(oh sorry the shift's broken, you'll learn to feel it) was shall we say, awkward. Paul the guide watched me do a few turns and grabbed a second bike whose gears do work, so my only problem was being able to read them during the ride. (Note to self: next time, bring the bifocal sunglasses). We headed off, and my education began immediately, as within about twenty yards we had our first hill.
Ever have that dream where you're trying to move really fast and going nowhere? I WAS that dream today. I was doing just fine on the flat wind in the face, ahhhh, and then up we go. Uh right, this one, no, crap, that one UP no DOWN no so suddenly I'm halfway up the hill pedaling FURIOUSLY and going absolutley nowhere, and in fact standing so still that I'm pretty much about to go over. If anyone happens to remember that guy from Laugh In? That's the one.
I did, however, manage to stay upright, thanks in no small part to very fast footwork and very luckily finding the right lever, which I promptly forgot on the next hill. And the next. It was actually very funny. I'd get to the top, race like mad to catch up, do just fine, we'd all head down hill, I'd downshift and dammit if I didn't find myself madly pedaling halfway up again while the rest of the crew merrily disappeared around the corner. Non, my Vietnamese friend, kindly stayed back at one point to make sure I knew everyone was heading a sharp left.
I finally mastered the gears right about the time we made it to an utterly charming town that surrounded a 12th century fortress. Below it were lovely quiet streets (it was a Sunday) and we set up our bikes in a quiet alley to do some exploring.
The whole day we were delighted with sunshine and low to mid 70s temperatures, so we were in heaven. We climbed past centuries old buildings, crumbling walls that were perfect photos just of themselves and backdrops for each other. The top of the fortress had a lookout over the town, the harbor, the swans leaving wakes as they swam out to the clippers, and the clay topped houses below.
As we began our ride through town, we passed a couple getting married, the bride in a flowing white gown and the groom in light summer jacket. The photographer was scowling at us to get out of his shot, an the couple was completely besotted with each other.
We then rode our bikes to the Krka waterfalls, which entailed some entertaining biking down some mushy gravel at rather high speeds. Since even attempting this on my road bike would have had only one outcome, being able to not only stay seated but enoy the heck of the trip down (including speed bumps!) was a gas.
The falls are quite a show of terraces and forested areas which you can access by raised walkway. Warning, if you want to use the bathroom it's 5kn, or it's the woods, which isn't easy with all the traffic. It's always nicked me a bit when someone wants nearly a dollar for your right to pee in private but that's how it is here.
The falls provide a thorough misting an the varied views all provide a wonderfully different experience of the different colors that rangee from white to green to cobalt and everything inbetween. While it's touristy, it's still worth going to see, especially on a hot day when those mists are so cooling.
Our final work of the day was back up the hill over the speedbumps, through the mushy gravel, and back into town where Paul et al settled us into a little restaurant where everyone was eager for roast pork off the spit.
Tomorrow at 9 am we are back to kayaking, and with my booties and gear dry from that sweet island sun, I'm good to go. Jammin' Adventures has so far been very good about balancing a good bit of exercise and knowing just when to give walkaround time, or to throw the bikes or kayaks on teh van. The result is that we all feel as though we're getting an excellent workout and we also aren't so beaten up that we can't eenjoy the next day.
What I also have valued so far is that where there's been a learning curve for someone- whether it's a mountain bike for me or something for someone else, there is just enough instruction and then you take it and put it to work. They don't make a big deal out of it, nor do they treat you like an imbecile. You just figure it out. That so works.
Oct 7th, 2014, 10:08 AM
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Still going. So the last two days were both kayaking, this time first to paddle a considerable distance across a mild Adriatic Sea to Vrgada Island. Since the guides took pity on me I was now in a heavy 17 footer, which turned like the Titanic but by god she was straight and true. I also had a slew of new ideas and methods and applied them, and in doing so landed in the middle of the group (a vast improvement indeed). Blessed with another stupidly gorgeous day I settled into a fine rhythm and my girl and I slid through the water kinda the way it's supposed to happen.
It was about two hours of solid work to get to what was a tiny, distant, now slightly larger, bigger now looming orange cliff. The blonde sand welcomed us and we unloaded our snacks and snarfed down a bunch of calories. (Anybody know those German Bueno bars made with whipped hazelnut? Yah well. I am REALLY GLAD when people don't take the pieces I offer them. So good.)
Paolo led us over the limestone crags and pools along the north of the island where we looked for wildlife and took our time enjoying the brilliant waters and few boats off shore. This time of year, the island is mostly closed up but a few cafes remain open. The boats still come but they sit quietly and doze while their owners sip wine and wave at us as we make our way.
The harbor is sleepy, with little activity but for some boat repair on some vessels which have seen many better days As we stroll along we pass an original, and still active church. Here the very old graves still are tended with fresh flowers.
The town features castle walls that are architectural masterpieces, despite the rude graffiti. The town itself is a postcard of narrow winding alleys leading to sharp corners and more alleys, always festooned with bright flowers, slanting sunshine and potted plants. Every turn, another visual treat.
At the top of the hill was a fifteenth century church, just a big square white building, with a bell tower next to it. No decorations, plain and simple. The town's houses had the same white walls and clay tile roof design we've seen everywhere.
We made a necessary stop at the local cafe filled with, you guessed it, locals, and made our way around the harbor back to our blonde sand beach. In all a quick round trip hike, a tiny town, fast asleep and recovering from tourist season.
I had forgone my dry suit for this day of paddling, largely because it's wicked hot and also the water just isn't that cold. I am trusting the stability of these kayaks and haven't rolled one yet. The only part of me that gets wet are my sunglasses and hat, and of oourse my camera which sits high on the bow. So far so good.
Our long trip back was a little choppier, the water darker blue, but still warm and sunny above. As we loaded up, all of us notied the waxing moon, which is going to be full soon. Oh let it be clear....
It was about two hours of solid work to get to what was a tiny, distant, now slightly larger, bigger now looming orange cliff. The blonde sand welcomed us and we unloaded our snacks and snarfed down a bunch of calories. (Anybody know those German Bueno bars made with whipped hazelnut? Yah well. I am REALLY GLAD when people don't take the pieces I offer them. So good.)
Paolo led us over the limestone crags and pools along the north of the island where we looked for wildlife and took our time enjoying the brilliant waters and few boats off shore. This time of year, the island is mostly closed up but a few cafes remain open. The boats still come but they sit quietly and doze while their owners sip wine and wave at us as we make our way.
The harbor is sleepy, with little activity but for some boat repair on some vessels which have seen many better days As we stroll along we pass an original, and still active church. Here the very old graves still are tended with fresh flowers.
The town features castle walls that are architectural masterpieces, despite the rude graffiti. The town itself is a postcard of narrow winding alleys leading to sharp corners and more alleys, always festooned with bright flowers, slanting sunshine and potted plants. Every turn, another visual treat.
At the top of the hill was a fifteenth century church, just a big square white building, with a bell tower next to it. No decorations, plain and simple. The town's houses had the same white walls and clay tile roof design we've seen everywhere.
We made a necessary stop at the local cafe filled with, you guessed it, locals, and made our way around the harbor back to our blonde sand beach. In all a quick round trip hike, a tiny town, fast asleep and recovering from tourist season.
I had forgone my dry suit for this day of paddling, largely because it's wicked hot and also the water just isn't that cold. I am trusting the stability of these kayaks and haven't rolled one yet. The only part of me that gets wet are my sunglasses and hat, and of oourse my camera which sits high on the bow. So far so good.
Our long trip back was a little choppier, the water darker blue, but still warm and sunny above. As we loaded up, all of us notied the waxing moon, which is going to be full soon. Oh let it be clear....
Oct 7th, 2014, 10:49 AM
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Dry. Yeah right. Okay.
So, our last day of kayaking (tomorrow we may have rain) we load up early and head out on a boat for three hours. By 10:30 we are offloading our boats from the little fishing boat into the water, in Kronati National Park. Oh what a gorgeous day. A person could get used to this fast.
The islands are many and rocky, we passed a lot of them but didn't see them as most of us were passed out in some form on the deck. Now I don't imbibe, but I stay up too late, and thank god for an empty bench and a life jacket out of the way of the cold breeze!
The skipper and guide eased our boats and us gently into the water fully loaded with lunch and goodies. From that secluded harbor we set forth to paddle out and around the islands, past the tall forbidding cliffs with wind-hewn faces blown out of the rock making Halloween gargoyles.
Today, after a consult with Paul, the owner, on the stairs, I had yet three more techiques to try. Damned if I wasn't suddenly sailing along right up front, even ahead of the group, that is, until they all turned left behind me and I had to madly paddle back to catch up. Difference was today I could.
So we explore these islands with their black and white sheep, their karst formations along the shores, their sweet shallow harbors, their ancient stone buildings. Nearing lunch we angle around a corner where two white clippers are anchored and the resident folks are taking a swim in some of the prettiest light turquoise water I've ever seen
Utterly puffed up with my newfound confidence in my Blue Girl, I build up a head of steam, meaning to come up on the bank and confidently climb out onto land, conquering hero style. Right.
Well, I built up a head of steam all right, and went right up the rocks, and when I loosed my skirt and began to stand, Blue Girl slid backwards into the water and unceremoniously dumped me out of the cockpit.
So now I am soaking wet down to my underwear,and am about to get a very quick lesson in just how quick dry REI's pants really are. I have to disrobe down to said undies while everyone else ( who kindly did not NOT guffaw) got out their lunches. I wrung out my pants, and looked longingly after my group as they headed up the hill to lunch.
Hell with it, I figured. The pants will dry just as fast on me as on this bush.
I put the soggy pantss back on, grabbed my hiking poles and headed up the hill after them. And boy was I glad I did.
It wasn't just that I dried off up there faster due to the wind and the sunshine and warmth, but the view was astounding. From where we were we could see the two houses below, the brilliant blue pools of sea changing to lighter turquoise and then green. More sailboats came in and we shot them inbetween the cairns at the top of the hill where a cross stood.
I headed down early since I wanted to get my skirt on, now warm and dry. I loaded up my boat and set her up to go back down to the water, got in, and pushed off, like the knowledgeable and experienced kayaker I now was.
Blue Girl slid down the rocks, hit the water and promptly dumped me right back into the sea again.
What part about put the boat in the water did you not get the first time?
Well now I have wet pants, wet underwear, wet shirt and full booties for the ride back, and this time I am laughing, because I can't help myself, and I do get in the boat, dump out my booties (about a gallon each) and about the time I got that stupid skirt on the rest of the crew was nearly out of the harbor.
But I caught up.
Learning curve's a bitch, ain't it?
We paddled the islands through choppier water and stronger wind, which made me right grateful for the life jacket. Water poured up the arm of my wind jacket and down my back which frankly didn't need more moisture but it adds to the romance of the story. My wonderful new paddling skills kept up with the fast boys on the block but when it came to getting lifted back onto the fishing boat, well, wait your turn. The system is slow but effective. But if you're holding your water (more than in your clothing and booties) the smile you're aiming at the cap'n becomes more of a rictus until you're on the ladder and bowl downany poor bastard who is between you and the loo.
Long slow three hours back, guide pours beer, we enjoy sunset and subsequent moonrise, my clothes are drying out for our big hike tomorrow. At least my boots made it back dry, thank you for dry bags!
So, our last day of kayaking (tomorrow we may have rain) we load up early and head out on a boat for three hours. By 10:30 we are offloading our boats from the little fishing boat into the water, in Kronati National Park. Oh what a gorgeous day. A person could get used to this fast.
The islands are many and rocky, we passed a lot of them but didn't see them as most of us were passed out in some form on the deck. Now I don't imbibe, but I stay up too late, and thank god for an empty bench and a life jacket out of the way of the cold breeze!
The skipper and guide eased our boats and us gently into the water fully loaded with lunch and goodies. From that secluded harbor we set forth to paddle out and around the islands, past the tall forbidding cliffs with wind-hewn faces blown out of the rock making Halloween gargoyles.
Today, after a consult with Paul, the owner, on the stairs, I had yet three more techiques to try. Damned if I wasn't suddenly sailing along right up front, even ahead of the group, that is, until they all turned left behind me and I had to madly paddle back to catch up. Difference was today I could.
So we explore these islands with their black and white sheep, their karst formations along the shores, their sweet shallow harbors, their ancient stone buildings. Nearing lunch we angle around a corner where two white clippers are anchored and the resident folks are taking a swim in some of the prettiest light turquoise water I've ever seen
Utterly puffed up with my newfound confidence in my Blue Girl, I build up a head of steam, meaning to come up on the bank and confidently climb out onto land, conquering hero style. Right.
Well, I built up a head of steam all right, and went right up the rocks, and when I loosed my skirt and began to stand, Blue Girl slid backwards into the water and unceremoniously dumped me out of the cockpit.
So now I am soaking wet down to my underwear,and am about to get a very quick lesson in just how quick dry REI's pants really are. I have to disrobe down to said undies while everyone else ( who kindly did not NOT guffaw) got out their lunches. I wrung out my pants, and looked longingly after my group as they headed up the hill to lunch.
Hell with it, I figured. The pants will dry just as fast on me as on this bush.
I put the soggy pantss back on, grabbed my hiking poles and headed up the hill after them. And boy was I glad I did.
It wasn't just that I dried off up there faster due to the wind and the sunshine and warmth, but the view was astounding. From where we were we could see the two houses below, the brilliant blue pools of sea changing to lighter turquoise and then green. More sailboats came in and we shot them inbetween the cairns at the top of the hill where a cross stood.
I headed down early since I wanted to get my skirt on, now warm and dry. I loaded up my boat and set her up to go back down to the water, got in, and pushed off, like the knowledgeable and experienced kayaker I now was.
Blue Girl slid down the rocks, hit the water and promptly dumped me right back into the sea again.
What part about put the boat in the water did you not get the first time?
Well now I have wet pants, wet underwear, wet shirt and full booties for the ride back, and this time I am laughing, because I can't help myself, and I do get in the boat, dump out my booties (about a gallon each) and about the time I got that stupid skirt on the rest of the crew was nearly out of the harbor.
But I caught up.
Learning curve's a bitch, ain't it?
We paddled the islands through choppier water and stronger wind, which made me right grateful for the life jacket. Water poured up the arm of my wind jacket and down my back which frankly didn't need more moisture but it adds to the romance of the story. My wonderful new paddling skills kept up with the fast boys on the block but when it came to getting lifted back onto the fishing boat, well, wait your turn. The system is slow but effective. But if you're holding your water (more than in your clothing and booties) the smile you're aiming at the cap'n becomes more of a rictus until you're on the ladder and bowl downany poor bastard who is between you and the loo.
Long slow three hours back, guide pours beer, we enjoy sunset and subsequent moonrise, my clothes are drying out for our big hike tomorrow. At least my boots made it back dry, thank you for dry bags!
Oct 7th, 2014, 09:09 PM
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Okay, so has anyone else on here ever learned a really key lesson about dental appliances and tile floors?
They don't mix well. So last night I took a LONG HOT SHOWER fully clothed - look, I was soaked with salt water top to bottom, I just got in and scrubbed the duds, worked for me. Rolled 'em up in the towel, festooned the room to get them dry. Then I sleepwalked through the nighttime routine.
As anyone who wears a dental appliance knows, you gotta take ''em out to clean 'em right? But it's also helpful to hang on to the damned thing and not fumble them onto a most unforgiving tile floor.
In a place where one is miles from the right kind of dentistry.
Sigh.
The pieces sorta fit back together. This morning I'm going to head over to Konzum to check out their Superglue supply.
I guess almonds are off the menu....
They don't mix well. So last night I took a LONG HOT SHOWER fully clothed - look, I was soaked with salt water top to bottom, I just got in and scrubbed the duds, worked for me. Rolled 'em up in the towel, festooned the room to get them dry. Then I sleepwalked through the nighttime routine.
As anyone who wears a dental appliance knows, you gotta take ''em out to clean 'em right? But it's also helpful to hang on to the damned thing and not fumble them onto a most unforgiving tile floor.
In a place where one is miles from the right kind of dentistry.
Sigh.
The pieces sorta fit back together. This morning I'm going to head over to Konzum to check out their Superglue supply.
I guess almonds are off the menu....
Oct 8th, 2014, 10:00 AM
#14
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Yep, there are, BB, and I am eating many of them. However I just repaired my dental appliance with a small tube of Loctite, which I am most hopeful will hold long enough for me to get home.
The grate was good enough to hold through my first bungee jump, at 61, but I'm ahead of myself.
Our group gathered up today at 8 am to load into the van- they come from everywhere, usually on bikes from an early morning run to the store, or to a high spot to watch the sunrise. I hide out in my room and do yoga so we all have our am routines.
This day we headed off to the Paklenica National Park, scheduled so that we could visit the cave at the top of one particular hike as it was open only certain hours only a few days a week after summer. The potential rain never fell, again, so we loaded up a few layers for the cave and headed up the mountain. A lot of other folks were out with us too (hey let's hike in the pristine woods! Wait, let's smoke a couple cigarettes to clear our lungs out first! Great idea! hack hack hack...)
The hike was a sweet one, a gravel switchback up the mountain with lovely views to a saddle across the way and some nice streams and falls to keep things cool. As we climbed, it warmed up nicely and periodically we'd stop for water, snacks and panoramic shots. The guide at the cave, one of several locals named Nikolas Tesla, speaks at least four languages and greets us at the door as the last group of the day. A warm and enthusiastic man, he infected us with his love of his job and welcomed us into his deep cave.
After a few minutes of adjusting our eyes to the darkness, Nikolas takes us through the labyrinth of stalagtites and stalagmites which drip from the ceiling like folds, forming toothy arrangements and almost human forms. Floor to ceiling there are many formations fascinating for the eye, but hard to capture on camera unless you have the right shutter speed. Non did, and she came out with gorgeous photos. The tour wasn't long, and the cave, a steady 10 degrees C all year, not as cool as I'd expected, even damp after our sweaty climb.
At the top we reconnoitered, gathered our things and headed back down. It was now approaching two pm and many of us had growling stomachs so we picked a switchback on the way down to lay out a picnic. Everyone spread out a feast of salami and sausage, three or four kinds of cheese, and dipping sauces of all kinds. We invited other hikers to join u s but only Nikolas joined in, grabbing a hunk of the hearty bread and a big piece of the cheese. The rest of our trip was a quick walk.downhill and soon we were back at the car.
John, our climber, mountaineer and all around athlete had signed up to do a bungee jump, so we drove to the tallest bridge in Croatia to do just that. As we got there, a young woman was being strapped in for her jump, so we gathered nearby and waited. This gal, who had a spiky blond cut and wore a Batman T-shirt, was definitely not feeling very super hero today. She barely made it to the top of the stairs and the stood there, gripping the two instructor's hands so tightly they turned white. As she looked out, as instructed, over the river, she then looked down and started to hyperventilate. Not a smart move. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck, she shook all over and backed down the stairs, to light up to calm herself down, which of course the two instructors did, too.
All right. Once again She turns around, climbs back up, fortified with nicoteine and the encouragement of her friends, makes it up to the top of the stairs, and then.....and then.....backs down and gives it up. The boyfriend jumps up and does his thing, not pretty, not graceful, but he screams happily all the way down. He lived.
John of course is raring to go and in the meantime I'm flustered because I only have 200 kn and the jump costs 380. So I bum 200 off our guide, whose eyebrows raise and he runs around telling everyone I'm also going to jump. Now I'm the oldest fart in this group mind you and nobody else has lined up. No matter.
John, who has already done some lovely swam dives off the island cliffs, launches himself off the platform and proceeds to banshee scream all the way down.
Minutes later it's my turn. They put me in gear, I ask a few questions about where I'll feel the torque, and I'm up the platform. Our guide, who is set up to take sequentials, asks me just before I go off the damn stair if I have any last words. Butthead.
Well hell. I just did a swan dive, smiled, and sailed off and kept my form all the way down, even through the bounce, because if there is one thing this chick can do is be graceful in the air. I love to fly, this is my element.
So the guy in the dinghy comes underneath me after I grab the rope and hold my body curled for a bit and is grinning at me, and says (I'm not making this up because I wish I had it in writing) "one of the top three dives this summer."
That made up for the two dumps in the sea yesterday, the pedaling my patootie off halfway up the hill on the mountain bike, and a host of other things that I've done on this trip to remind me of how human I am. It was really, really nice to nail that bungee jump, especially my first ever. Definitely going to do that a lot more times.
En route back, which was two hours total, many of us slept but I got to rewind that lovely jump. Right now I'm dealing with a nasty cough and am taking the night off to recover for tomorrow, our one day off to do what we want. There's a barbeque downstairs but this is a good night to take it easy. And oh yes, Non got photos. She's going to bribe me for copies, and I'll happily pay her.
The grate was good enough to hold through my first bungee jump, at 61, but I'm ahead of myself.
Our group gathered up today at 8 am to load into the van- they come from everywhere, usually on bikes from an early morning run to the store, or to a high spot to watch the sunrise. I hide out in my room and do yoga so we all have our am routines.
This day we headed off to the Paklenica National Park, scheduled so that we could visit the cave at the top of one particular hike as it was open only certain hours only a few days a week after summer. The potential rain never fell, again, so we loaded up a few layers for the cave and headed up the mountain. A lot of other folks were out with us too (hey let's hike in the pristine woods! Wait, let's smoke a couple cigarettes to clear our lungs out first! Great idea! hack hack hack...)
The hike was a sweet one, a gravel switchback up the mountain with lovely views to a saddle across the way and some nice streams and falls to keep things cool. As we climbed, it warmed up nicely and periodically we'd stop for water, snacks and panoramic shots. The guide at the cave, one of several locals named Nikolas Tesla, speaks at least four languages and greets us at the door as the last group of the day. A warm and enthusiastic man, he infected us with his love of his job and welcomed us into his deep cave.
After a few minutes of adjusting our eyes to the darkness, Nikolas takes us through the labyrinth of stalagtites and stalagmites which drip from the ceiling like folds, forming toothy arrangements and almost human forms. Floor to ceiling there are many formations fascinating for the eye, but hard to capture on camera unless you have the right shutter speed. Non did, and she came out with gorgeous photos. The tour wasn't long, and the cave, a steady 10 degrees C all year, not as cool as I'd expected, even damp after our sweaty climb.
At the top we reconnoitered, gathered our things and headed back down. It was now approaching two pm and many of us had growling stomachs so we picked a switchback on the way down to lay out a picnic. Everyone spread out a feast of salami and sausage, three or four kinds of cheese, and dipping sauces of all kinds. We invited other hikers to join u s but only Nikolas joined in, grabbing a hunk of the hearty bread and a big piece of the cheese. The rest of our trip was a quick walk.downhill and soon we were back at the car.
John, our climber, mountaineer and all around athlete had signed up to do a bungee jump, so we drove to the tallest bridge in Croatia to do just that. As we got there, a young woman was being strapped in for her jump, so we gathered nearby and waited. This gal, who had a spiky blond cut and wore a Batman T-shirt, was definitely not feeling very super hero today. She barely made it to the top of the stairs and the stood there, gripping the two instructor's hands so tightly they turned white. As she looked out, as instructed, over the river, she then looked down and started to hyperventilate. Not a smart move. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck, she shook all over and backed down the stairs, to light up to calm herself down, which of course the two instructors did, too.
All right. Once again She turns around, climbs back up, fortified with nicoteine and the encouragement of her friends, makes it up to the top of the stairs, and then.....and then.....backs down and gives it up. The boyfriend jumps up and does his thing, not pretty, not graceful, but he screams happily all the way down. He lived.
John of course is raring to go and in the meantime I'm flustered because I only have 200 kn and the jump costs 380. So I bum 200 off our guide, whose eyebrows raise and he runs around telling everyone I'm also going to jump. Now I'm the oldest fart in this group mind you and nobody else has lined up. No matter.
John, who has already done some lovely swam dives off the island cliffs, launches himself off the platform and proceeds to banshee scream all the way down.
Minutes later it's my turn. They put me in gear, I ask a few questions about where I'll feel the torque, and I'm up the platform. Our guide, who is set up to take sequentials, asks me just before I go off the damn stair if I have any last words. Butthead.
Well hell. I just did a swan dive, smiled, and sailed off and kept my form all the way down, even through the bounce, because if there is one thing this chick can do is be graceful in the air. I love to fly, this is my element.
So the guy in the dinghy comes underneath me after I grab the rope and hold my body curled for a bit and is grinning at me, and says (I'm not making this up because I wish I had it in writing) "one of the top three dives this summer."
That made up for the two dumps in the sea yesterday, the pedaling my patootie off halfway up the hill on the mountain bike, and a host of other things that I've done on this trip to remind me of how human I am. It was really, really nice to nail that bungee jump, especially my first ever. Definitely going to do that a lot more times.
En route back, which was two hours total, many of us slept but I got to rewind that lovely jump. Right now I'm dealing with a nasty cough and am taking the night off to recover for tomorrow, our one day off to do what we want. There's a barbeque downstairs but this is a good night to take it easy. And oh yes, Non got photos. She's going to bribe me for copies, and I'll happily pay her.
Oct 8th, 2014, 11:34 PM
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Yeah, me too.
You get one nice pat on the back, just once, get over yourself and move on.
Today we have a tourist day, our guide is taking us all around. Our choice. What fun. After all that wonderful hikin' bikin' paddlin' jumpin' funnin' it's time for some serious wanderin' time.
You get one nice pat on the back, just once, get over yourself and move on.
Today we have a tourist day, our guide is taking us all around. Our choice. What fun. After all that wonderful hikin' bikin' paddlin' jumpin' funnin' it's time for some serious wanderin' time.
Oct 9th, 2014, 11:27 AM
#18
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After the big party I heard going on well into the night (hey I'm trying to get over a cold here) the departure time today was for 10 am, so all of us got on board the van. This time Pero (god help me I finally got the man's name right) and Paul both joined us for the day. We headed off to Sibenik, about an hour away, bypassing once again the restaurant with the pigs roasting on the spit outside. Tonight. Yep.
We drove through the lovely old town then out past the awful tall buildings from the 70s, 80s and 90s which all but ruin the town with their industrial look and run down paint jobs. Happily that doesn't last, then we find ourselves at a 4.4km hike which will lead us along some gorgeous views and to a huge fortress. Along the way we'll find a tiny hidden church that even Paul hasn't found yet, and spend time exploring a short blocked off waterway, and again enjoying an even warmer bright blue sky day than before.
The fortress is damp, and we take guesses at the rooms and their uses. Here for cannons, there for toilets, here for storage. Fascinating.
By now it's 2 pm and we're all ready for some midday food, so our guides ferry us back to old town. This allows us to wander the steps, churches and purely touristy part of the city, which since it's October has only a few tour groups going through. We weave in and out of them and find uncrowded ice cream shops and small bakeries for snacks to hold us until spit pork time. We find a few small things, for me a bracelet to add to the growing collection on my left wrist (turquoise and blue cotton to remind me of the islands) stamps, postcards. I eyed a Klimpt cup, too delicate for the trip home. Won't use it. It stays.
Finally, one more ice cream stop down we head to pork spit spot and load up. A few of us take photos of these animals doing ring around the rosy, tongues hanging out. Everyone orders but me (the real reason is TMI to my mind and I've been on soft foods for nearly three days now). This is a manly man's place, and I have nice soft eggs back at the apartment. And nice soft yogurt right here in my bag. Hey, what can you do.
So yes, candied almonds are no longer on the menu, nor is anything else that has to be bitten, chewed, chomped, or otherwise manhandled by one's grille, so I'm relegated to a lot of bananas for now. Hey, if you can't laugh, don't travel.
I wonder how duct tape might work? Seems to do everything else....
We drove through the lovely old town then out past the awful tall buildings from the 70s, 80s and 90s which all but ruin the town with their industrial look and run down paint jobs. Happily that doesn't last, then we find ourselves at a 4.4km hike which will lead us along some gorgeous views and to a huge fortress. Along the way we'll find a tiny hidden church that even Paul hasn't found yet, and spend time exploring a short blocked off waterway, and again enjoying an even warmer bright blue sky day than before.
The fortress is damp, and we take guesses at the rooms and their uses. Here for cannons, there for toilets, here for storage. Fascinating.
By now it's 2 pm and we're all ready for some midday food, so our guides ferry us back to old town. This allows us to wander the steps, churches and purely touristy part of the city, which since it's October has only a few tour groups going through. We weave in and out of them and find uncrowded ice cream shops and small bakeries for snacks to hold us until spit pork time. We find a few small things, for me a bracelet to add to the growing collection on my left wrist (turquoise and blue cotton to remind me of the islands) stamps, postcards. I eyed a Klimpt cup, too delicate for the trip home. Won't use it. It stays.
Finally, one more ice cream stop down we head to pork spit spot and load up. A few of us take photos of these animals doing ring around the rosy, tongues hanging out. Everyone orders but me (the real reason is TMI to my mind and I've been on soft foods for nearly three days now). This is a manly man's place, and I have nice soft eggs back at the apartment. And nice soft yogurt right here in my bag. Hey, what can you do.
So yes, candied almonds are no longer on the menu, nor is anything else that has to be bitten, chewed, chomped, or otherwise manhandled by one's grille, so I'm relegated to a lot of bananas for now. Hey, if you can't laugh, don't travel.
I wonder how duct tape might work? Seems to do everything else....
Oct 9th, 2014, 10:15 PM
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Hey Julia-t thanks for your comment. You are most welcome. Even with the busted appliance it's a gas. I'm posting reviews over on TA as well of the various attractions like the bungee jump outfit too. Right now people are up and out of here in stages to catch planes and buses out of town, and I'm in mid pack. Today I am off to Split at 10:30 and tomorrow at 4 pm I join my riding group for seven days on horseback. At that point, it's all handwritten notes for a while, back to basics, and I will have a lot of catching up to do.
Oct 9th, 2014, 11:49 PM
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Oh- and as an aside, for anyone wondering about bungee jumping with dental appliances, especially busted ones, well. The thought DID occur. I wondered, briefly, before I tossed my skinny butt over the railing whether I'd be watching two four thousand dollar pieces of bright pink and white acrylic dislodge and go sailing gently off towards the guy in the dinghy, and if so, should I say something, or would I be laughing too hard (probably) or, on the other hand, would the poor guy even understand me if I tried to say something with my appliance out in the first place?
Ahh. Questions to ponder in the deep dark of the night.
Happily they are still lodged. Love that Loctite.
Ahh. Questions to ponder in the deep dark of the night.
Happily they are still lodged. Love that Loctite.
