R&R: Is This What Vacations Are For?

Fot: A view from our balcony, Aneta

We packed, we moved to Skradin. We are happy. Aneta announced that today we would "just relax and enjoy this place." And that is exactly what we did. We unloaded (or rather Aneta uloaded) the car and moved into our new apartment in this delightful small village at the water's edge. Aftr settling in we went straight up to the third floor balcony and sat out in the sun enjoying the view of the harbor, a neighboring island , the swans skirting the edge of the pier hoping for a tourist to toss some bread their way, and the occasional comings and goings of locals on the street below.

Fot: Skradin, Aneta

Our view includes the back of a house that is well over 100 years old and has some damage in the upper right hand corner that has been patched with stones and rocks of various sizes. This, Anna tells us, is the result of the war. There is also a very old structure jutting out from the back of one of the newer street front buildings that features an interesting wooden roof that looks like it was built with remnants from the Ark. Beyond the varied rooftops we have a wonderful view of a small island in the lake with a nice restaurant evident. This island is only accessible by boat and if you happen to want a ride and you can find a boat getting ready to head back out of the lake to sea you might be able to hitchhike a ride. Otherwise you can call the restaurant, reserve a table and the owner will send a small boat over for you. We enjoy what is left of the morning, savoring the peaceful atmosphere.

Fot: Skradin, Linda

Finally we decide to take a walk around the village and traverse the cobbled street from the apartment toward the village square. Once in the square we make an effort to find the City Museum mentioned in one of our guide books but, oddly enough, no one seems to have heard of the City Museum. (Turns out it is housed in the church that dominates the square and wasn't open while we were in Skrodan.) We hang a left and head down the long narrow, cobbled, main street of the town. There are some amazingly well supplied jewelry stores featuring hand make artisan type jewelry - beautiful one-of-a-kind pieces at one-of-a-kind prices - several Coffee Bars with outside and inside seating, a bakery, a small grocery, a meat market with one single piece of ham in its otherwise empty cases, an art gallery/sales shop, a post office, a restaurant and a hotel. There are many green doors leading to apartments in the upper areas over the store fronts and some larger entries that open into interior courtyards that serve several dwellings built into the hillside. Every block or so there is a very narrow street or steep flight of stone stairs leading up away from the village toward the historic fort. One wider staircase has signage indicating it leads directly to the fort. There are probably 300 stone steps in this staircase - not something I was in any mood to tackle! There are no handrails on any of these stairways or walkways, something I have observed is more common than not in Poland. You see a new house, for example, sitting on a nice piece of land, with a concrete staircase going up the outside of the house to an upper floors and no banister, sides, or hand rail of any kind. It gives me vertigo just looking at them!

Once we reach the end of the village the road continues out into the countryside. Having made an unscheduled stop at the bakery, we sit down on a roadside bench and eat our croissants and sweet breads. There are feral cats everywhere in Croatia.

Fot: Cats are everywhere, Linda

I think I took enough photos of them to make a calendar of Feral Cats of Croatia for Christmas gifts. This village is no exception and we are visited by the damaged, the hungry, the young, the nursing mothers and the teenagers all looking for a handout. We find ourselves sitting beneath a pastoral hill that has a very old wagon parked or displayed just above where we are sitting. Of course Aneta and I both take photos of it before we start our long walk back to the apartment. Aneta suggested we take the car and go a couple of kilometers up the road to a neighboring village where our hostess, Anna, says she was born and grew up.

Fot: Skradin, Linda

 That was the plan. It never materialized. Once we got back to the apartment we were hungry and weary. We walked across the street to a Pizzaria that indicated they had several kinds of lasagna on the menu at a reasonable price. We placed our respective orders for Lasagna Bolognaise and a glass of wine and took our seats on the patio. The air was still warm but began to cool quickly as we sat waiting for our dinner. We watched three older men (I'm careful now about these age descriptions, being fully aware that I am one - "older" that is) playing cards until the wind kicked up and sort of made it hard for them to keep their cards on the table. They left and we went inside just before our meal was served. The warmth of the interior was very welcome and comforting and our lasagna arrived as soon as we sat down. Now, you know how once in awhile you order something in a restaurant and it is just so good you think about it for years afterward? Well that was my experience with this lasagna. I had Tortellini in Vipatino, Italy, and Prime Rib at the Dorchester House on the Oregon Coast, that fall into this category. Now I have added a $10 cassarole boat of lasagna from the Pizzaria in Skradin to the inventory of meals I dream about. We all overate to be sure but we went home happy and sated looking forward to a good nights sleep in our very own private rooms! We were not disappointed.

Tomorrow is our big day in Sibenik and we need our beauty sleep to get ready.

Linda