A
Transitory Existence (Part III)
Split, Croatia
After two
nights in Sarajevo we checked out and got a tram to the bus station. Thus far we had travelled by plane and
train. It was nice to have a change and
the six hour coach journey to Split in Croatia was the most intensely beautiful
yet. Cascading mountains stood firm at
all sides of the road and tremendous cliff edges hung over bottle green
lagoons, their shadows impressing upon the water’s indifferent reflection. The coach winded between these peaks and
lakes through all the scrumptious shades of green. When the sun began to set, flames of scarlet
red and whips of orange expanded across the sky. The sheer mixture and combination of colours felt
unique to this time, to this place and to me.
‘Perception is always self-reflection; as the
traveller looks at a landscape, he or she is always looking at him or herself
looking as well.’
Shelley’s Eye,
Benjamin Colbert 2005.
Across the
border the sun’s embers burned down into a deep blue sky and the stars
confirmed a clear night, our rainy cloud had finally given up on us.
We arrived
in Split at ten o’clock. The unexpected
instant increase in temperature excited our senses, our skin relished the
warmth and I felt a glow rise to my cheeks as we got picked up from the
station. A girl of about the same age
took us to an apartment let out by her family.
The apartment was enormous and plush, we had somehow secured for five
pounds a night. With air conditioning
and three bedrooms, two of which contained double beds, this was an amazing
prospect after the last hostel we had stayed in.
Scrambling
across the pebbly beach that night we watched Tribu Club’s lights dance on the
rippling sea water. This was our first
coastal visit, and the pleasant heat that balanced with the crisp novelty of
the air made this evening just what the doctor ordered. Team that with some very strong cocktails and
cheesy music and we had ourselves a very fun drunken night.
Promenade in Split
We planned
to stay in each place for two nights apart from here in Split, where we spent
three. With more time we took each day
at a slower pace, and spent them sleeping in as it was too hot to venture out
in the mornings anyway. We spent most of
our time sunbathing on the beach, swimming in the cool, caressing water amongst
the furry rocks and curious sea plants, and strolling up and down the lengthy
promenade and harbours, which contained various impressive yachts and
boats. Between the refreshing dips and
tanning sessions I often went on ahead of the others to find a quiet sunny
spot, to sit and write my diary with only myself and the delicately pretty calm
blue waters, the hot sunshine and glistening views for company. Conspicuous silver mountains rose straight
out from the seabed to my left. The
coast reminded me of Italy, but an Italy with stony pebbles and fewer tourists. Just across the Adriatic was a parallel yet
totally different story. My mind also
strayed to the Cornish coast, a place I have always loved. I couldn’t help but compare these pebbles to its
sand, the solitude of this shore to the companionship of my friends and family
there. I felt a sudden jolt of missing,
but this sun was blinding and the temperature delirious and I soon snapped out
of my hypnotised state with an ocean’s splash from Tash.
Beach in Split
By night we
graced the bars in the centre of town, wandering through the quiet Old Town
past the crumbling Roman ruins to find courtyards brimming with life. We found a pleasant venue whose occupants
littered the steps leading from it, sitting on cushions and chairs. A little community surrounded the bar and we
drank Mojitos out in the mild evening air to our heart’s delight.
Mojitos in Split
On our last
day in Split, September 11th, we went to look around the fashionable
clothes shops and hippy-chic jewellery stalls.
With everyone rendered happy with their purchases and the spending of
their last few coins, we sat on the rocky wooden decking of the marina sea
front and dipped our feet into the cool ocean liquid. We laughed at the countless bronzed sailors
proudly wandering around in their tight white and navy uniforms and hats. Split is at the heart of romance and youth, the
sun glowed then went behind the horizon, and with the end of another day it was
time to catch another train. With a
couple of hours to kill we went to buy wine and chocolate for the night train
to Ljubljana.
Marina in Split
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