In My Mother's Name [part 1]

I have been typing this up for the last 4 days and have yet to finish it but here's a taste: Guess what?

I saw a baby blue yacht at the Croatia Boat Show! You have no idea how hard it was for me not to cry when I got close enough to touch it - which I did ever so gently. It was the definition of straight pimpin'. The owner pulled up to fill the tank and an hour later the pump flashed 25,000 kuna (about CI$3800) and it still wasn't full...

Before you ask - yes, I still want one. A gold one named Fiend. I'll come back for the boat show and win whatever's up to be won. Watch me.

That's all I really want to report from Split... but there's been loads of memorable moments.

Zadar
We were serenaded by three Croatian men playing local music and intimidated by border control. They held Kyle up because he uses a Bahamian passport, the silly boy. I guess it's not his fault his forefathers decided to part with the Queen and are now suffering the consequences of independence. BUT because I was with him and we were the only two (kinda) black people on the flight, they asked to see my passport twice before they made me wait to one side for him. Yasmin and Andrew arrived about a half an hour later and then it was three of us (kinda) black kids in Croatia.

We only spent one night in Zadar and thus I only recall ordering fish soup that was salt enough to kill me and wondering if someone had died in the shower above our room because the water was running ALL night. It was good soup, though. Went well with the local beer Karlovačko.

Plitviče
We took a bus to Grabovac the following morning. The view from the bus was a masterpiece of trees and fog intertwined like the hands of lovers, thick like jealousy. However, the magic was shortlived because once we arrived, we had a little difficulty communicating with our hostel owner who kept repeating, "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" After about 15mins of waiting in the cold under the bus stop in great-for-sleeping, horrible-for-travelling weather he showed up in his beat up, kinda-stinky VW. The rooms were very neat and quaint and had hot water, though.

Kyle, whose life revolves around his hungry belly, suggested we venture out into the cold rain to get some food in "town" - we were in the middle of nowhere, by the way. The whole walk I was freezing and kept thinking to myself, "I'm black! I don't do this shit!" and then an 18-wheeler sped through a puddle and I narrowly avoided being splashed in the face. Still got my jeans wet, though. No need to guess what ran through my mind - or what came out of my mouth - at that moment. All of that stress for some no-tasted food at a hotel down the road. I had "spaghetti napoletano", which was just some Chef Boyardee... It served it's purpose, though. The ethnic fatigue took over and I slept like a log that night.

We went to the lakes in the morning and it was just magical! More waterfalls than Quaker has oats and each was just as impressive as the last. I took at least 100 pictures that day alone! But some parts of the path around the lakes were flooded because of the rain and of course I was not game on getting wet. Yasmin stood there looking dumbfounded at my refusal and suggested a brilliant idea, "Maybe you could take your shoes off and run through the water to the next side?"

How about "NO?" I mean, I could barely feel my feet then, imagine if they were wet! Catch the cold of my death and never get around to writing another blog. Sheesh.

So we had to climb 78m of steps next to Croatia's tallest waterfall and take the long route around. I much preferred that. Plus, the view was mesmerising! We made our way around, caught a ferry across the most placid lake I've ever seen. I took artistic pictures without even trying! Even caught a ducky in mid-flight =).

OK, that's it for now. I'll have the rest of the trip typed up before bed, I promise.