Our travels usually take us to one city after another, filled with gray concrete and black asphalt. Except for our week in the Austrian Alps, we haven’t had many nature activities. We took the advice of our CouchSurfing host in Zagreb and ventured to rural Croatia’s Plitvice Lakes for a two-day break.
It’s an impressive place. The densely vegetated valley has 16 terraced lakes strung together by waterfalls and miles of wooden walking paths. The lakes constantly change from dark blue to bright green depending on the sunlight, temperature, and mineral content of the water that day. The rail-free, slatted boardwalks and stone steps leave you feeling a bit unsteady at times, especially with strollers and elderly tour groups squeezing past. Even on the cliffside paths, there was usually no railing to keep you from falling to your death (or injury at least). I was very dizzy from dehydration at the end of the day, and Kim had to grab me a few times to keep me from falling off a waterfall.
Our trek took about five hours, but you could easily spend eight or more hours here. Park entry was 90 kuna (about $15) for each of us thanks to our bogus student ID cards. Admission includes use of the electric boats and trams that traverse the park. Otherwise, it is a long walk around the 16 km of lakes. There are many routes to chose from, but we focused on the upper lakes due to our time and endurance constraints. It was a tough hike at times, and our calves are still a little sore. Be sure to check out all of our lake photos on Flickr.
There is no bus station, road signs, or much information of any kind at Plitvice. Our bus driver just dropped us off on the side of the road in the middle of the forest. Luckily, we planned ahead in Zagreb. I saved a few Google Maps on the iPod, and we knew there were guesthouses a few hundred meters down the road. The area has very few hotels and no hostels, but most residents in the area run makeshift B&Bs (sans the second B). We ended up choosing Villa Zora run by a nice guy named Boris just outside the village of Mukinje. We had planned on one night, but we ended up staying for two. Unfortunately, this left us a little short on cash, and we had to walk three kilometers to pay our bill. The ATM was in the middle of the woods!
Getting to Plitvice was no problem, but leaving was another matter. Boris had a bus schedule, but it takes some effort to find a bus that will actually stop. You have to stand on the side of the road and wave them down, and it often takes hours. Seemed like the perfect opportunity to try an alternative mode of transportation– hitchhiking.
My mother always told me, “Clark…don’t you ever hitchhike.” So, naturally, I was sold.
We had mixed success. Our first customer was an edentulous guy in a windowless van. He said he liked my “purty mouth” which I found flattering. He wanted 200 kuna though, and we didn’t really want to be out $30 on top of being murdered. Despite his charming comments, we passed.
Our second offer came from a hippie in a station wagon who offered to take us to some town 30km north of Zadar. But then what? Try to hitch from there? We ended up passing yet again.
Finally, we flagged down a bus headed for central Zadar. It ended up costing us 180 kuna, but it had windows and everything. I’m not sure if this counts as true hitchhiking. Better luck next time, I guess.
Zadar
We enjoyed two scenic albeit laundry-challenged days in a vacation rental which included a very scenic view of the Adriatic from our balcony. Each time we walked past our neighbor’s yard, we would pluck a few grapes off his vines. We grew bolder one evening and cut off a bunch with our Leatherman for a late night snack. Kim was worried the owner would discover us helping ourselves, and we would be subjected to his grapes of wrath instead.
The kiwi was borrowed from yet another neighbor. We failed to find a beer or deep dish pizza tree.
We did find two interesting pieces of urban art in Zadar. Listen to our seaside recording while read on:
The Sea Organ is situated near the new cruiser port and consists of several stairs that descend into the sea. The stairs extend about 70 meters along the coast and contain 35 pipes of different lengths and diameters. As the waves lap against the stairs, the organ plays seven chords of five tones.
Why doesn’t Chicago have one of these?
Down the road, we discovered the the Greeting to the Sun– a 22-meter wide disc of colorful light. It was designed by the same architect as the Sea Organ, Nikola Bašić, and it also serves as a solar panel which powers the lights of the entire waterfront. The lights are constantly swirling and changing colors, and the border projects intense beams of light into the clouds.
The Church of St. Donat was built in the 9th Century and is one of the largest examples of Byzantine architecture on the Dalmatian Coast. It was originally named the Church of the Holy Trinity but was later changed and named for a local bishop and bakery owner. It was built on top of the old Roman forum and incorporated some of the old structure. You can see some of the ruins in the right side of the photo. Much of the forum was cannibalized to build the church.
In the end, it’s safe to say Plitvice Lakes and Zadar definitely affected us. We look forward to exploring the Croatian islands before moving on to Bosnia and Montenegro.
Posted from: Podstrana, Croatia
Kim & Clark Kays quit their jobs for an uncertain trip around the world. Originally from St. Louis, they relocated to Chicago after getting married in 2005. After working for five years in middle school and the Fortune 500, they realized there was more to life than the 9-to-5, so made the crazy decision to exchange money for time rather than the other way around.
Their hobbies include fighting over writing styles and searching for gelato. They think food, beer, architecture, and photography are some of the best things about travel—especially when combined. Their travel blog, To Uncertainty and Beyond, includes long-term travel tips as well as humorous anecdotes from their journey through Europe and Asia. They invite you to experience their journey and learn from their adventures and mistakes.
