Based on recommendations, I decided to stay for two nights at a campsite on this lovely river in the north of Croatia near the tourist town of Duga Resa, and the larger town of Karlovac.
I was still determined to take the train from the local middle-of nowhere station, ‘Bellavici’ to the capital, and spend 5 hours there until I could catch the first return train which stopped at the same. I have really felt very exposed re having zero knowledge of the language, particularly given my tremendous difficulty in storing to memory and then recalling commonplace Ukrainian words. This linguist is not as good as she thought she was, if she ever was! At least I have a better understanding for others attempting to travel even in France, Spain and the like.
The pictures below show that the train did duly arrive, I enjoyed traipsing all round the city and felt it to be a ‘friendly place with a Germanic ‘look’. Determining which return train I should get, giving myself plenty of time in advance, was less than straightforward, as Bellavici did not appear on any timetables, and one station guard I asked didn’t ‘know’ of it. I obviously got back ok not without planning various contingencies, given the train journey was approx 1.25 hours, so it was a good way from the capital.
A quick conversation with 2 german women brought a recommendation for Ljubljana, capital of Slovenia which I might visit on the way back, and then we unexpectedly came upon some characters from the 1920s, who were in the midst of filming season two of Hotel Portofino. I thought I fit in very well with their outfits, having my ‘city visiting in the heat’ uniform on.
Day 3 of Croatia, and I forgot to record the lovely high hill countryside the A1 direction Split went through despite the drizzle then heavy rain taking the temperature down to 14deg. Again going across impressive viaducts, gorges and straight through mountain tunnels. And then we popped out of a very high, long tunnel into what seemed like a different climate zone – more now like Almeria in Spain – scrub and those mediterranean forest-type trees. Very little evidence of significant towns, or commerce/industry. I decided to make an attempt to get LPG (only one of my nemeses, and the subject of previous posts) given that at one service station I had observed that self-service wasn’t allowed. Result. All I now had to do was engage an attendant with enough patience and English to find which of my adaptors would do the job. I did find one such young man, and hurrah – the French adaptor works in Croatia – so full gas was restored. In conversation with him, he said that Croatia was not a good place to live, as salaries were too low and prices too high. From my limited checking, it would seem that prices are very similar to in the UK, so if their salaries are well down, then they must find things very difficult. I recollect reading an article recently about rising nostalgia for the former communist rule in Eastern European countries, due to similar perceptions.