Let's Get Lost, Part 1: Split and Plitvice

When we last left off, our travelers had found themselves in rather dire circumstances, set upon by nature, devoid of hope and Wi-Fi ...

The Campanile of the Cathedral of St. Domnius, Split

OK, we left Hvar two days ago and headed by car ferry to Split, the second largest city in Croatia. Founded in the 4th Century by the Roman Emperor Diocletian, this working port town expands out from the ancient site of the Roman ruler's retirement Palace.

We stayed in a little place, the Hotel Peristil, built between the inner and outer walls of the ancient palace, and just behind the Cathedral. Back in the day, the Cathedral was Diocletian's mausoleum, across the Peristil, or the central courtyard, is the Temple of Jupiter, now the Baptistry. There you can find one of two black granite sphinxes, from around 1500 BC which had greeted visitors on the entrance Diocletian's mausoleum.

Now, Diocletian was a bit of a badass. Born a slave, he joined the Roman army, rose through the ranks and was Emperor at age 39. Though, oddly, he found the Empire at the time somewhat unmanageable, so he split it into four fiefdoms, or the Tetrarchy. Then, in something rarely done in the annals of politics, he decided to retire to Split and his palace at the age of 60. This, of course, led to a civil war between the other members of the Tetrarchy. But, hey, at least he was innovating ...

We spent the afternoon walking through the Palace which has been repurposed with great expertise into a high-end tourist outdoor mall of sorts. Interesting architectural flourishes about, like our hotel, basically a discrete four-story box built between two of the ancient walls. It's not uncommon to walk by a trendy boutique or a bank in the alleys where they've built around an ancient column or wall.

Hotel Peristil's "tasteful" signage

We dined that night at Šperun Deva, a great "mom 'n' pop" restaurant, not only recommended by numerous guidebooks and websites, but also the locals.

Bob ordered the mussels in a red sauce, not on the menu, but recommended by one of the guides. Great stuff. We then had the branzino, which was poached, then baked. Great flavor, tender, but firm, served with boiled potatoes and sauteed kale.

Now the wine we were served was great. Postup, the local grape. This was insanely good. Big, bold, licorice, black cherry, full-bodied.

It's safe to say that beyond the port and the Palace, Split is a plain, working-class town. The following day we drove up into Croatia's mountains, to the Plitvice Lakes. As you pull away from the center of Split, from the ancient palace, past the Mediterranean-style stucco and brick summer houses and apartments with the red tiles which hug the shore, you move into the suburbs and a lot of those bleak, Cold War-era apartment blocks. Dreary.

We took the main road up the hills, with the temperature in the high-80s. If you've ever driven from San Bernardino to Palm Springs, you kind of get the picture. Just eliminate the smog. This is a rough-hewn country, especially in the area between the coasts and the foothills. Bare limestone pillars and peaks jut out of the ground at weird angles.

But the higher we rose into the hills, the more Alpine the scenery became, and the Plitvice Lakes National Park is beautiful. The temperature had also dropped to the mid-60s and it was overcast. The lakes are not large by U.S. standards, but they are tiered and were formed by a calcium material called travertine. The water is clear and large schools of fish can be seen in each of the lakes.

Veliki Slap (The Big Waterfall)

OK, this was really hilly, with lots of hills, and we had to walk down, and then back up a few times. Overall about a two mile walk. Bring sensible walking shoes.

We stayed at the Plitvička Jezera, a park-owned resort that's got a major '60s-modern grooviness going on. It's kind of like a mountain chalet, yet at the same time, somewhat utilitarian.

 Welcome. You WILL Enjoy Yourself

 Groovy Stairwell

Groovy Amoeba-shaped First Floor Landing Lighting

That night we headed back down the hill about 6 miles to the Vila Velebita for our first helping of spit-roasted suckling pig. This stuff is INSANE. Pork should always be served this way. No, seriously. It was tender and succulent and the crackle, the skin was a guilty treat.

The wine was also quite good. In fact, outside of one or two glasses of errant reds or whites, overall the wines here in Croatia are as good as anywhere we've had wine: Italy, France, California ... Just solid.

Bob and I made it an early night after our huge, pork-fueled dinner. In fact, it's dinnertime now. Will write more later...

... And then the wheels came off the wagon

After a great day in Split, a wonderful hike through the lake country and a stunning overnight stay in Opatija with an amazing dinner at Davor Lukas seaside restaurant in Rejika, we drove to Istria.

Where we were booked into the Worst. Hotel. Ever.

The Girl with the Seagull, Opatija

Bailing out now! Write more later! Also, you can't beat suckling pigs roasted on a spit. 

From Hvar with Love

Well, sorely disappointed in the lack of actual Dalmatians on the Dalmatian Coast. Seriously, seven days in and not a one; not even 101. Closest we've got to a Dalmatian? Visor for sale in Hvar:

Hvar is a beautiful port town aimed at the luxury-seeking vacationer. It's a town with a great history, being that almost every major empire of the ancient world established, trampled, reinvigorated and/or plundered the town and the island over the last three millenium.

Bob and I on the Spanjola Fortress ramparts overlooking Hvar

You name it, they were here: Greeks, Romans. Slavs, Venetians, and for military history buffs, the Ottoman Turks came through on in 1571 on there way to the Battle of Lepanto whereupon they pillaged the town and razed it to the ground. (On a side note, October 7, 1571, the date of the Battle of Lepanto, was the same date in 2001 when U.S. forces invaded Afghanistan in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. Coincidence? I think not ...)

Later the French came through, and finally the Austrians. It was quite the destination for all the warring clans of Europe.

There are more than 200 shipwrecks from the Roman period throughout the waters surrounding Croatia, many near Hvar and the museum in the Spanjola Fortress contains amphorae retrieved from some of the wrecks. What's interesting is that archaeologists confimed these containers carries olive oil and dried fish from Roman-ruled Spain. Quite a distance to travel by boat back in the 2nd and 3rd Centuries.

Spanish amphorae

The center of Hvar is St. Stephen's Square and the Cathedral of St. Stephen, built at the height of the Renaissance. But the true center of town, and it's where the port begins, is the Arsenal:

During the 17th and 18th centuries, galleons were brought ashore, there masts removed and work completed within this wonderful building's walls.

Inside the Arsenal in Hvar

The Arsenal is now a giant theater, but what makes it cool is that in 1612, the governor of the town built on the second floor of the building a theater for both the aristocracy and the working class to attend theater together. Now the whole space has been renovated. The night we were there, a children's theater piece had been performed.

Spit-roasted lamb in Hvar. More on that later ...

OK, we had read about this one restraurant in Hvar, Zlatna školjka (the Golden Shell), and we wanted to go. Chef Ivan Buzolić is Croatia's only big international culinary judge and runs this small restaurant - 24 seats if the weather is good, 18 if it starts to rain, which it did the night we dined - located in the heart of Hvar's tourist-restaurant alleys above St. Stephen's Square.

Our waiter, Anton, or "Fluffy," as he admitted he was called in high school - "I was fat," he said - recommended the local Plavac red wine. It was dry, cherries, some tar, light tannin.

We started off with a wonderful potato salad, the mayonnaise was made with olive oil, a cherry fruit syrup vinegar, truffle oil and garnished with shaved white truffles. Rich, savory, we needed more bread to sop up the wonderful tart mayonnaise. Things only got better.

Bob ordered the mussels and I, the lobster soup. Anton told us that the basis of most of the sauces and soups was a pesto of garlic, onions and parsley in olive oil. The mussels came in a white wine broth with pieces of fried polenta at the bottom of the bowl.

The lobster soup had the look of a creamy chowder, but once you broke the surface with your spoon, it fragmented, like a miso soup, with chunks of lobster, polenta and baby shrimp dancing in the clear broth. In both liquors the garlic was strong, but sweet, with the freshness of the parsley really standing out, especially in the soup.

Bob ordered the grilled shrimp, which came served on a bed of par-boiled zucchini in a lemon olive oil, a side of mayonnaise and a warm mixed potato and zucchini salad.

I ordered up the chef's take on the local seafood stew, the Gregada. This had poached branzino, rolled around kale and sun-dried tomatoes, shrimp, limpets, clams, mussels and a certain shellfish which can't be named due to legal issues.

It was a beautiful. The seafood was so fresh that the briny taste of the shellfish softend the garlic and onions. The branzino was cooked perfectly, with the sweetness of the tomatoes complimenting the light bitterness of the kale.

Overall, this meal was totally worth the wait. We loved Hvar. I actually spent one whole afternoon at the hotel, lounging on the private pier, drinking German sparkling wine and swimming in the Adriatic. Bob believes I will figure this whole vacation thing out someday.

Next stop? Split and then onto Lake Country ...