JK, Sept. 20 2010: I am writing while on the train to Split, from Zagreb, picking up on the writing trail from our last full day in Venice. The arrival the night before offered a small peak at and taste of what was to come - great food and stunning beauty (of course).
The morning of the 17th we slept in for the first time on the trip, awaking just in time to catch breakfast at 10:00 am. There were no options at the hotel - just croissants, bread, jam, nutella and coffee - disappointing for the price (as was the smelly room with no hot water). Following breakfast we took to the streets, doing our best to absorb the sights and sounds, despite the arrival of foul weather.
After walking for several more hours, and feeling somewhat dispirited by the rain, we settled down for a pre-dinner gondala ride with a crazy gondolier who yelled playfully at everything and everyone we passed.
He shared a few interesting facts with us, including that there are more tourist residents than local residents; the average age, he said, is 70+ and that there are more than 40 royal families active in the city. We also passed several churches, palaces and Vivaldi's apartment.
Following this, we sat down for what turned out to be a lousy meal, but with two bottles of superb wine. Here we drank off our "rain funk", talking for hours about the pecular impressions left by a historic city.
Like in Cinque Terre, tourists came in waves and occupied both the city's main arteries and its nooks and crannies. They could not fully obliterate the history or the architecture, or the reality of the canals, but they certainly made immersion in the experience a challenge.
"In Venice, everything looks like a painting.
I keep catching my breath, it's so beautiful," says Jess.
After some confusion, we sorted out a private couchette for the red-eye train from Venice to Zagreb. I think we were both ready to leave, after a second day filled with rain and tourists. (Saturday was worse for both, aptly demonstrating the need for better planning re: accommodation and awareness about the days of the week. The latter re-inforced once in Zagreb.)
Once underway, I had some more Venetian wine and promptly fell asleep. Our trip was interupted by the border crossing from Slovenia into Croatia where the (Slovenian?) police presence was authoritative and mildly disconcerting at 3:00 am. Ciao Italia.
The 4:00 am arrival was also a little rough - yanking our bags out into the rainy night, and into a station occupied by some drunk teens and fecal-smelling homeless. A cabby ripped us off 80k for the three block trip to Arcotel. Thankfully they let us in and agreed to hold our luggage until check-in.
With little else to do, we set out walking, doing our best to take in Zagreb in the early morning rain. Defeated, we returned to the hotel by 9:00 am with the impression that the city was cold, dark and very quiet on Sundays.
I napped in the lobby while Jess scoured the internet for information on Split. We checked in at 11:00 am and, following a wonderfully hot shower (recall - no hot water in two days of Venetian rain), napped until 3:00 pm.
A real blessing - at 3:00 the sun emerged.
Rested, and with renewed enthusiasm, we emerged into a Zagreb transformed by light. The city felt less Eastern-bloc-ish than it had at 4:00 am in the rain, after the police and train station experiences.
Again we walked for hours, first to the Botanical Gardens, then past the main square and up the hill to St. Mark's. There we stopped for an early dinner, feasting on a plate of mixed meats, cheeses, olives and peppers, and a main course of traditional stew.
Our trip back took us through a 'hipster alley', a happening strip of cafes and bars where we stopped for a drink. Zagreb was bustling at this point, and with a degree of authenticity that marked a welcome change from our more touristy encounters with Cinque Terre and Venice.
The market that was just opening during our morning walk was now teeming with people, including a wooden tripod-based mechanical swing set. A band of young men sang traditional songs and played various stringed instruments, and vendors sold everything from fried bread to jewelry.
We returned to the hotel satisfied and tired but also curious as to what else the city would offer, were we staying a little longer ...
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| Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb |
The morning of the 17th we slept in for the first time on the trip, awaking just in time to catch breakfast at 10:00 am. There were no options at the hotel - just croissants, bread, jam, nutella and coffee - disappointing for the price (as was the smelly room with no hot water). Following breakfast we took to the streets, doing our best to absorb the sights and sounds, despite the arrival of foul weather.
The streets of Venice are lined with stores and vendors, offering such stimulation that we simply spent the day walking, staring and wandering in and out of streets, shops and sqaures. Most common or popular wares include glasswork, shoes, leather, masks in the thousands, as well as vendors of fruit, seafood, newspapers ... cafes, restaurants ... many churches, palaces, musuems etc.
The Jewish Ghetto/Quarter was a highlight in the morning. Jess was particularly moved by the oldest ghetto in Europe, which sparked her imagination as to the way of life being there. Lunch was pizza and ravioli, cafe and aqua frizzante. Once again, the cheap food surpassing the expensive. In the afternoon we stumbled upon an architecture/planning exhibit on the future of big cities. It focused on Mumbai, London etc. I found it fairly shallow overall, especially where, sponsored by Audi, much focus was on the future of cars and smart transit. Interesting though was the contrast created by the exhibit being housed in a church under renovation.
After walking for several more hours, and feeling somewhat dispirited by the rain, we settled down for a pre-dinner gondala ride with a crazy gondolier who yelled playfully at everything and everyone we passed.
He shared a few interesting facts with us, including that there are more tourist residents than local residents; the average age, he said, is 70+ and that there are more than 40 royal families active in the city. We also passed several churches, palaces and Vivaldi's apartment.
Following this, we sat down for what turned out to be a lousy meal, but with two bottles of superb wine. Here we drank off our "rain funk", talking for hours about the pecular impressions left by a historic city.
Like in Cinque Terre, tourists came in waves and occupied both the city's main arteries and its nooks and crannies. They could not fully obliterate the history or the architecture, or the reality of the canals, but they certainly made immersion in the experience a challenge.
"In Venice, everything looks like a painting.
I keep catching my breath, it's so beautiful," says Jess.
After some confusion, we sorted out a private couchette for the red-eye train from Venice to Zagreb. I think we were both ready to leave, after a second day filled with rain and tourists. (Saturday was worse for both, aptly demonstrating the need for better planning re: accommodation and awareness about the days of the week. The latter re-inforced once in Zagreb.)
Once underway, I had some more Venetian wine and promptly fell asleep. Our trip was interupted by the border crossing from Slovenia into Croatia where the (Slovenian?) police presence was authoritative and mildly disconcerting at 3:00 am. Ciao Italia.
The 4:00 am arrival was also a little rough - yanking our bags out into the rainy night, and into a station occupied by some drunk teens and fecal-smelling homeless. A cabby ripped us off 80k for the three block trip to Arcotel. Thankfully they let us in and agreed to hold our luggage until check-in.
With little else to do, we set out walking, doing our best to take in Zagreb in the early morning rain. Defeated, we returned to the hotel by 9:00 am with the impression that the city was cold, dark and very quiet on Sundays.I napped in the lobby while Jess scoured the internet for information on Split. We checked in at 11:00 am and, following a wonderfully hot shower (recall - no hot water in two days of Venetian rain), napped until 3:00 pm.
A real blessing - at 3:00 the sun emerged.
Rested, and with renewed enthusiasm, we emerged into a Zagreb transformed by light. The city felt less Eastern-bloc-ish than it had at 4:00 am in the rain, after the police and train station experiences.
Again we walked for hours, first to the Botanical Gardens, then past the main square and up the hill to St. Mark's. There we stopped for an early dinner, feasting on a plate of mixed meats, cheeses, olives and peppers, and a main course of traditional stew.
Our trip back took us through a 'hipster alley', a happening strip of cafes and bars where we stopped for a drink. Zagreb was bustling at this point, and with a degree of authenticity that marked a welcome change from our more touristy encounters with Cinque Terre and Venice.
The market that was just opening during our morning walk was now teeming with people, including a wooden tripod-based mechanical swing set. A band of young men sang traditional songs and played various stringed instruments, and vendors sold everything from fried bread to jewelry.
We returned to the hotel satisfied and tired but also curious as to what else the city would offer, were we staying a little longer ...
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