The Acronym for U.S.A. in Croatian is S.A.D.*

Ever since I saw a Rick Steves episode featuring Dubrovnik, I knew I wanted to visit Croatia. It was described as a more Eastern version of Italy, with equally interesting food, architecture and culture, but with just a fraction of the tourists. When planning this trip with Liv, I pictured us roaming bright-colored streets and visiting the renowned natural wonders of some sort of undiscovered wonderland.

Well, that was a dream that didn’t really come true. Why? I think we only have ourselves to blame: one should probably not travel to Croatia in the wintertime with these expectations in mind. Instead, it’s wiser to be prepared for cold, snowy weather, inoperative train stations and over-cast skies. But, hey…Rick Steves was right about one thing: there really aren’t many tourists.

In Croatia, we experienced some of our most frustrating and, at times, unnerving moments of this trip (read Liv’s narrative to follow). However, we also had some moments that were truly amazing that helped in offsetting the ‘bad juju’ that we encountered. Here they are:

1) In Zagreb we were able to go to a restaurant called Vinodol, which featured gourmet Croatian foods and local wines. Here we had a sensational meal. Months ago, before embarking on this trip, we imagined ourselves subsisting on raisins and pb&js. Neither of us would have thought that we’d have a budget that would allow us to dine from the list of Zagreb’s ten best restaurants. However, our dollar was strong compared to the local currency, the kuna, and as a result, Liv and I clinked our glasses of Croatian wine above a meal of filet mignon in a sauce made of bleu cheese. Mmmm!

2) We arrived in a town called Rijeka and it was the first glimpse of the sun that we’d seen in about 3 weeks. In that moment we didn’t care that we’d had to cancel our reservation in Pula and trade it for Rijeka because it was the only other city accessible by train, nor did we care that the train was actually substituted for a bus, nor that we still had no clue how to leave this town three days later. Upon seeing the sun’s rays, we both exclaimed at our good fortune. The vitamin D went straight to our hearts and melted whatever Croatian frost had accrued there from irritation and desperation.

3) Everyone likes to get stamps in their passport. It somehow feels like a visual validation of the time you’ve spent abroad. Due to the hellish train tables between Croatia and Slovenia, we managed to get 7 new stamps. So…hooray!

4) Liv and I have visited more modern art museums on this trip alone than I have in the other years of my life combined. Which, is saying a lot, because they’re my favorite type of museum, with the exception of hands-on science museums. So, having seen so many, we were pleased to discover that Zagreb’s MSUwas the best yet. We spent hours in that museum, maybe because it was so darn cold outside, but also because the pieces provoked a lot of consideration and reflection.

5) As two girls from the rural towns of Pollock Pines and Redding, we never had too many occasions that required taxis. Taxis were for cosmopolitan women in their early thirties- not us. However, in Zagreb, a taxi ride to about anywhere in the city costs less than three dollars. And if you add up the cost of two tickets for public transit, it comes to more than that. So, Liv and I permitted ourselves to hail taxis when moving about the city, which, is surely only cool and exciting for young women who consider it a practice of those in a much higher tax bracket.

6) And finally: we had one of those wonderful “right place at the right time” moments. In Rijeka, we wandered around the downtown in the early afternoon looking for a place to eat lunch. First we found a giant open-air market and right on the edge was a restaurant with picnic benches outside basking in the sun. The waiter explained that he only had about five dishes that were advertised on the menu, but he offered to assemble us a sample platter of them all. We readily agreed and about 20 minutes later we had a plate that covered about half the bench that was full of whole fried fish, grilled baby squid, fried calamari, creamy tomato and shrimp pasta and fresh salad with lemon wedges and parsley scattered all over the plate. It felt like the Mediterranean had just flopped into our mouths. Even after eating at Vinodol and other ‘fancier’ restaurants during this trip, this meal will be the one I remember forever. 

So, there you have it: the highlights! In some ways Croatia was a chilly, fatiguing logistical nightmare, but it wasn’t without its moments of beauty. We’ll certainly look back with reverie at these 6 instances that I described and soon, we’ll probably even be grateful for the inside jokes and memories that stemmed from the dozens of other moments that weren’t so lovely. Take it from here, Liv!

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Croatia: The land of beautiful seaside views, delicious fresh seafood, and where various forms of transportation go to die.

It’s good that Kenz started this blog post on such a high note, describing the couple lovely things we found about this country. Unfortunately, a singular day in particular made both of us wish we could blink our eyes and reopen them back in California. Which I should add, is miraculously the first time we have felt that on the entire trip. Let me begin by saying getting to Zagreb from Graz was a foreshadowing into the rest of our traveling experience in Croatia. We were told to get off the train and to instead board a bus that took us up into Slovenia, only to then get off the bus and board yet another train, setting us back from our initial arrival time. In this particular experience, Kenz and I were more amused at the complication of their system at the time and thought, “Ha! What bad luck!” Little did we know getting from Rijeka to Umag was an entirely different kind of travel day, and the kind that wards most away from the idea of travel in general.

We woke up on this lovely sunny day in Rijeka and weren’t entirely surprised when the woman told us that instead of the train we were planning on taking was not in operation, and instead we would need to board the bus waiting outside. Okay, sure, we were use to stuffy buses at this point in Croatia. After an incredibly windy road that left Kenz feeling both nauseated and hot, we ended up in the middle of a country side at a quiet train station, where we got off the bus only to board yet another bus and for our driver to take a poorly deserved smoke break.

We finally arrive at the Slovenian border, to receive yet another Slovenian stamp that will only be more ammunition for Customs in America. It’s a bit disheartening and alarming when you hand over your passport to a border patrol officer, only to watch them walk off the bus into a room with closed blinds. I remember in this moment, Kenz and I looked at each other and inaudibly thought, “No big deal, that’s only our ticket home.” It’s amazing how such a small booklet can hold so much weight and importance to your own identity when traveling on foreign soil.  I can say with much relief that he reappeared with a fresh stamp, and Kenz and I allowed our heart rates to reach equilibrium once more.

We winded up through the hills of Slovenia and finally reached our destination, Pivka. I chuckled as I wrote that because no ones actual destination is Pivka, but it was the destination of our next train to bring us back into Croatia. We knew that we had about three hours to kill before our train left and so we ate our pb&j’s in a cold empty room and ventured out to see the town and to find an open pub to stay warm. This lovely town greeted us with tanks lining parts of the streets, fallen trees, broken signs, and on the horizon were factories wafting chemicals into the air. Kenz and I looked at each other and wondered unanimously if a war had taken place just moments before we arrived. After two hours of sitting in a pub watching Russia destroy it’s competition in an obscure Olympic game, we ventured back to the train station. The single employee told us that due to “natural disasters” our train would not be leaving and we had seconds to run out and catch the bus sitting outside. We board the bus only for fifteen minutes where it drops us off farther into the mountains of Slovenia at a train station where we were told to wait and a bus to Koper would appear in two hours. The stressful part of travel comes when you are reliant on other people’s information to be accurate. It is easy for a native in passing to tell you something with great certainty, but for us it is critical information that defines our safety, and our arrival to our next bed.

Let me set the scene for you: We are in a train station, without electricity as the sun is setting, and the only noise to be heard anywhere are two amorous Slovenian teenagers making out on a bench right in front of us. Making out makes it seem relatively normal and sweet compared to the sucking sound of a plunger that we endured for two whole hours. TWO HOURS. As the two of us sat in silence in the dark, Kenz sitting on top of the heater to stay warm, I realized in this moment that I had picked the perfect travel companion. Here we are, two twenty-three year old women waiting for a bus we aren’t even certain will arrive and we calmly begin brainstorming a Plan B. The stage was set for a perfect moment for one of us to break down. Traveling for hours, with only a pb&j quickly leaving the lining of our stomach, unsure of what to do next. Fifteen minutes after the time we were told it would arrive, there we saw the most beautiful beams of light we could have imagined. We board the warm bus, eat a handful of celebratory almonds, and sit in grateful silence holding hands. Not to get too sappy on everyone reading this, but its in moments like that where we both have the ability to remain calm and hopeful is what overwhelms me and makes swell with such love and appreciation for the kind of travel and life companion I find in her.

We reach Koper, and find a taxi to take us across the border into Croatia. We receive yet another Slovenian Stamp, arrive in Umag, crawl into the coveted bed and let out a sigh of relief and gratitude in knowing we did it. 

Total travel time: 10 hours and 45 minutes

Actual distance between Rijeka and Umag: 1.15 hours by car

Total number of buses: 5

Cost of taxi ride: 50 euros

The amount of love and respect I felt for Kenz after this day:

Exorbitant.

*It really is S.A.D. (Sjedinjene Države Amerike)