DALMATIA AND THE LOT OF AN IMPERIAL RETIREMENT PALACE
Slatine beach, Ciovo: is summer really over? |
Most streets in the old city are paved with cobblestones, extremely shiny as a result of being polished by thousands of shoes every day. The center of Zadar is fortified and relatively small, but what is striking is the amount of unused space either because it is a protected area like the Roman forum or because it was not rebuilt in the aftermath of one of the many wars or invasions that plagued the city over the course of history and as recently as the war between Serbia and Croatia in the 1990s.
Many things have been restored since, helping Zadar to remain a strong touristic destination. The town feels very heterogeneous between the Roman ruins, the Donat, an early Christian church dominated by the nearby bell tower and the cathedral recently renovated. Many houses still bear stigmas of bombings and, under Tito, modern block houses have added without much concern for homogeneity.
One of the recent successful addition to the old town has been the construction of a sea organ in the south-western corner of the town's peninsula. The project completed in 2005 required to find a plumber able to weld sea-proof metal pipes together. Apparently only an eighty year-old plumber from the neighbouring island of Pašman had the required skills to do so. People feared he would be too frail to complete the work but he did. Since then, the waves are permanently producing an eerie melody. It is not really harmonious per say, rather unsettling at first. But little by little, one gets used to the alien composition of the waves as one gets carried away by their rhythm. At times though, when a big boat leaves the harbour, it creates waves that sound like a warning, that something sinister is happening. We went there at the end of the afternoon, far from being the only ones. Indeed many tourists go there at sunset for countless selfies with or without the sea or the sun. Every smartphone is brandished at the end of a stick. Everyone wants a digital record, sound, image or both at the same time of having sat down on the stairs by the sea, on top of the organ. It gives a good idea of where tourists come from. Asians are definitely number one, applying extra sunscreen to withstand the sunset. Americans sounded second, then came Europeans, Germans, Italians, French, etc ....
We visited the ancient glass museum, which explains the various techniques of glass making which surprisingly culminated in the first, second and third centuries AD with a mix of blowing and moulding heated glass. Many burial jars were exhibited from the finds that have been made in the city. From the terrace of the museum one could see the new bridge that connects the old Zadar with the new one, essentially made of concrete blocks .
Zadar is allegedly the town where the origin of the tie can be traced. One version goes that soldiers from the area of Zadar, before going to war were given a silk scarf by their fiancee or wife so that they would not forget them. Another version, less romantic, says that a white scarf was part of the uniform of Croatian soldiers who were hired by Louis XIII to fight in France and the French nobility found this scarf very elegant and named it after the name of the soldiers in French. Croatian means "Croate" which by oral transformation became "cravate", the French word for tie. And so was the tie popularized in France in the 17th century.
We did an excursion to Plitvice, a national park, about two hours drive away, north of Zadar, that is famous for its lakes. We left the old town through the land gate, Kopnena vrata, guarded by a robust Venetian winged lion right by the foža, a tiny harbour located right along the fortification wall. We then walked towards the central bus station traversing a semi-residential area under redevelopment. Buildings from the past century were progressively being renovated, leaving behind their tired mud-colored facade and tiled roofs. Progressively large shopping centres and multiple storey housing are taking over the space.
The bus station of Zadar is big, most destinations in Croatia are reached by bus because the train covers only a limited footprint across the country. A young couple was kissing goodbye after which they awkwardly remained standing next to each other without a word. She was the one travelling and he had accompanied her. I could very well relate with this unease of never ending goodbyes, I never quite know what to say unlike some people who have the talent to be able to keep chatting as if they were in the middle of a friendly chat at home.
The bus took a very scenic route to ascend to the hills. The temperature fell with the altitude and the vegetation took deeper autumnal shades. Leaves had started to fall. The countryside is very little populated and farming is the main activity.
Plitvice National Park is about turquoise waters, ducks and fishes, about countless trees and branches fallen in the water, about countless waterfalls from one lake to the next that could be explored over wooden pathways on stilts. It is about a largely untapped forested domain of hills and also about countless visitors who made a day trip to see the lakes. There are many Asian, mostly Korean, tour groups, following their guide's flag in a disciplined manner. A large but good humoured crowd affected by an egocentric virus, that pushes them to digitally capture their presence in near real-time against the background they have come to experience. Virtuality has now become reality. I wonder to which extent the experience of the real world matters, perhaps it is the price tag for the authenticity of the memory, especially for ladies with stilettos - we saw a few brave Asians wearing those on stony trails. There is also the possibility that one appreciates the landscape, enjoys the nature for what it is during a selfie break. The sun was warm and bright during the day, illuminating the forest in bright reds, yellows and browns.
Our host at Pension Vera was reserved but ended up talking when he was in confidence. He told us about his love for the region and its freezing winters and also about the nonsense of the 1990s war triggered by one Serbian man. Mountain rivers are famous to catch trouts and the ones served at the Pension Vera should not be missed.
It was time to leave Plitvice for Split and Trogir. By the roadside, we joined a group of tourists from Korea, US and a few more countries, all waiting for the bus to Split with large rolling suitcases. Nowadays not every tourist is travelling by organized tours. The bus came on time, loaded luggages and people and drove right into the fog that was surrounding the higher hills. We had to go through a pass above 1300 meters. From time to time, the clouds thinned or opened, revealing ghostly autumnal landscapes. After the pass, clouds vanished and the temperature rose sharply by the seaside, it was warm again.
The road to split went up on the plateau and, right before Split plunged towards the sea and revealed a beautiful view of the limestone hills running along the seashore.
Many things have been restored since, helping Zadar to remain a strong touristic destination. The town feels very heterogeneous between the Roman ruins, the Donat, an early Christian church dominated by the nearby bell tower and the cathedral recently renovated. Many houses still bear stigmas of bombings and, under Tito, modern block houses have added without much concern for homogeneity.
One of the recent successful addition to the old town has been the construction of a sea organ in the south-western corner of the town's peninsula. The project completed in 2005 required to find a plumber able to weld sea-proof metal pipes together. Apparently only an eighty year-old plumber from the neighbouring island of Pašman had the required skills to do so. People feared he would be too frail to complete the work but he did. Since then, the waves are permanently producing an eerie melody. It is not really harmonious per say, rather unsettling at first. But little by little, one gets used to the alien composition of the waves as one gets carried away by their rhythm. At times though, when a big boat leaves the harbour, it creates waves that sound like a warning, that something sinister is happening. We went there at the end of the afternoon, far from being the only ones. Indeed many tourists go there at sunset for countless selfies with or without the sea or the sun. Every smartphone is brandished at the end of a stick. Everyone wants a digital record, sound, image or both at the same time of having sat down on the stairs by the sea, on top of the organ. It gives a good idea of where tourists come from. Asians are definitely number one, applying extra sunscreen to withstand the sunset. Americans sounded second, then came Europeans, Germans, Italians, French, etc ....
We visited the ancient glass museum, which explains the various techniques of glass making which surprisingly culminated in the first, second and third centuries AD with a mix of blowing and moulding heated glass. Many burial jars were exhibited from the finds that have been made in the city. From the terrace of the museum one could see the new bridge that connects the old Zadar with the new one, essentially made of concrete blocks .
Zadar is allegedly the town where the origin of the tie can be traced. One version goes that soldiers from the area of Zadar, before going to war were given a silk scarf by their fiancee or wife so that they would not forget them. Another version, less romantic, says that a white scarf was part of the uniform of Croatian soldiers who were hired by Louis XIII to fight in France and the French nobility found this scarf very elegant and named it after the name of the soldiers in French. Croatian means "Croate" which by oral transformation became "cravate", the French word for tie. And so was the tie popularized in France in the 17th century.
We did an excursion to Plitvice, a national park, about two hours drive away, north of Zadar, that is famous for its lakes. We left the old town through the land gate, Kopnena vrata, guarded by a robust Venetian winged lion right by the foža, a tiny harbour located right along the fortification wall. We then walked towards the central bus station traversing a semi-residential area under redevelopment. Buildings from the past century were progressively being renovated, leaving behind their tired mud-colored facade and tiled roofs. Progressively large shopping centres and multiple storey housing are taking over the space.
The bus station of Zadar is big, most destinations in Croatia are reached by bus because the train covers only a limited footprint across the country. A young couple was kissing goodbye after which they awkwardly remained standing next to each other without a word. She was the one travelling and he had accompanied her. I could very well relate with this unease of never ending goodbyes, I never quite know what to say unlike some people who have the talent to be able to keep chatting as if they were in the middle of a friendly chat at home.
The bus took a very scenic route to ascend to the hills. The temperature fell with the altitude and the vegetation took deeper autumnal shades. Leaves had started to fall. The countryside is very little populated and farming is the main activity.
Plitvice National Park is about turquoise waters, ducks and fishes, about countless trees and branches fallen in the water, about countless waterfalls from one lake to the next that could be explored over wooden pathways on stilts. It is about a largely untapped forested domain of hills and also about countless visitors who made a day trip to see the lakes. There are many Asian, mostly Korean, tour groups, following their guide's flag in a disciplined manner. A large but good humoured crowd affected by an egocentric virus, that pushes them to digitally capture their presence in near real-time against the background they have come to experience. Virtuality has now become reality. I wonder to which extent the experience of the real world matters, perhaps it is the price tag for the authenticity of the memory, especially for ladies with stilettos - we saw a few brave Asians wearing those on stony trails. There is also the possibility that one appreciates the landscape, enjoys the nature for what it is during a selfie break. The sun was warm and bright during the day, illuminating the forest in bright reds, yellows and browns.
Our host at Pension Vera was reserved but ended up talking when he was in confidence. He told us about his love for the region and its freezing winters and also about the nonsense of the 1990s war triggered by one Serbian man. Mountain rivers are famous to catch trouts and the ones served at the Pension Vera should not be missed.
It was time to leave Plitvice for Split and Trogir. By the roadside, we joined a group of tourists from Korea, US and a few more countries, all waiting for the bus to Split with large rolling suitcases. Nowadays not every tourist is travelling by organized tours. The bus came on time, loaded luggages and people and drove right into the fog that was surrounding the higher hills. We had to go through a pass above 1300 meters. From time to time, the clouds thinned or opened, revealing ghostly autumnal landscapes. After the pass, clouds vanished and the temperature rose sharply by the seaside, it was warm again.
The road to split went up on the plateau and, right before Split plunged towards the sea and revealed a beautiful view of the limestone hills running along the seashore.
At the bus station we looked for a connection to Trogir. A man heard me asking for directions and offered to drive us for a cheap fee in his taxi because he was going home anyway. My instinct was to refuse. But a few minutes later I asked him if we could take up his offer. He had been apparently vindicated by my initial refusal. He wasn't ready to take us anymore and said "you see, you didn't want to listen! I don't want to take you anymore". No big deal for us anyway because buses are going frequently to Trogir.
When it is easier to buy magnets and t-shirts than bread, you know that you have landed in a touristy spot. It was very much the case in the UNESCO World Heritage town of Trogir. The city has developed, with a strong Venetian architectural influence, on a small island connected by a stone bridge to the continent and another one to the island of Ciovo. Trogir has since expanded beyond both bridges. Besides its UNESCO listing, the proximity of Split and its airport and being a favourite sailing spot have certainly contributed to make Trogir such an attraction for tourists. It has also helped to preserve the old city from falling into oblivion and disrepair.
It is really worth going to admire this fortified town-island and its narrow cobbled streets, as shiny as polished stones can shine and imagine how the past could have been. But the soul of the town has certainly evolved, especially since the town has been successfully repurposed into a tourism haven with countless cafes, restaurants and souvenir shops all fitted into old houses. Even if one has to struggle to walk amidst selfie-taking tour groups of various nationalities, one could still close one's eyes for a few seconds and imagine being in a busy trading centre from the Renaissance.
The cathedral is the highlight of the old town that allows to get a 360 degree view of the island from the pointed bell tower whose sides are open to the wind through arches that are typical of Dalmatian architecture. An old Korean lady managed to climb the steep stairs up to the bell platform. We helped her out with a picture and told her that we had been walking for the past six months. She insisted on taking a photograph of us because she found that what we had done was extraordinary, but as matter of fact she had come quite a long way by herself all the way up there.
On that Saturday evening, the harbour was full of ships whose passengers overflowed on the town's restaurants and bars. A music stage had been arranged on the cathedral square to fill-up all the terraces with customers who might otherwise have stayed by the waterside.
Early morning the next day, we left Trogir to go to Split, its shiny neighbour, but not the usual way. Our plan was to walk around the island of Ciovo and take a ferry from Slatine to Split in the afternoon. At this time, at the terraces of the waterside cafes, beige umbrellas were still folded and topped with a sort of hat that made them look like Eyos (figures representing messengers of family ancestors in Lagos, Nigeria which appear wearing a wooden stick and whose entire body is covered by a white piece of cloth). German groups were already collecting their bicycles in front of their respective cruise ships. We traversed the bridge to Ciovo. There was a big contrast between the lively and touristy Trogir and its sleepy and rather rural extension on the other side of the bridge. We followed a street going up to the plateau topping the island. The walk was easy on a gravel path which took us nearly all the way to the Eastern tip of the island. We saw a lot of lemon butterflies in the bushes which was quite surprising at this time of the year. From the top of Ciovo, the horizon was delimited by the shape of all the neighbouring islands. For once there were a few boats out on the sea, sign that the region was economically active. We had a picnic by the shore looking at Split and its mountainous background on the occasion of our three thousandth kilometre since we had left Hendaye. Somehow, it was just one more step forward, but we felt that we had gone a long way and that our initial project of going to Corfu wasn't completely unrealistic, no matter if we actually would reach Corfu.
When it is easier to buy magnets and t-shirts than bread, you know that you have landed in a touristy spot. It was very much the case in the UNESCO World Heritage town of Trogir. The city has developed, with a strong Venetian architectural influence, on a small island connected by a stone bridge to the continent and another one to the island of Ciovo. Trogir has since expanded beyond both bridges. Besides its UNESCO listing, the proximity of Split and its airport and being a favourite sailing spot have certainly contributed to make Trogir such an attraction for tourists. It has also helped to preserve the old city from falling into oblivion and disrepair.
It is really worth going to admire this fortified town-island and its narrow cobbled streets, as shiny as polished stones can shine and imagine how the past could have been. But the soul of the town has certainly evolved, especially since the town has been successfully repurposed into a tourism haven with countless cafes, restaurants and souvenir shops all fitted into old houses. Even if one has to struggle to walk amidst selfie-taking tour groups of various nationalities, one could still close one's eyes for a few seconds and imagine being in a busy trading centre from the Renaissance.
The cathedral is the highlight of the old town that allows to get a 360 degree view of the island from the pointed bell tower whose sides are open to the wind through arches that are typical of Dalmatian architecture. An old Korean lady managed to climb the steep stairs up to the bell platform. We helped her out with a picture and told her that we had been walking for the past six months. She insisted on taking a photograph of us because she found that what we had done was extraordinary, but as matter of fact she had come quite a long way by herself all the way up there.
On that Saturday evening, the harbour was full of ships whose passengers overflowed on the town's restaurants and bars. A music stage had been arranged on the cathedral square to fill-up all the terraces with customers who might otherwise have stayed by the waterside.
Early morning the next day, we left Trogir to go to Split, its shiny neighbour, but not the usual way. Our plan was to walk around the island of Ciovo and take a ferry from Slatine to Split in the afternoon. At this time, at the terraces of the waterside cafes, beige umbrellas were still folded and topped with a sort of hat that made them look like Eyos (figures representing messengers of family ancestors in Lagos, Nigeria which appear wearing a wooden stick and whose entire body is covered by a white piece of cloth). German groups were already collecting their bicycles in front of their respective cruise ships. We traversed the bridge to Ciovo. There was a big contrast between the lively and touristy Trogir and its sleepy and rather rural extension on the other side of the bridge. We followed a street going up to the plateau topping the island. The walk was easy on a gravel path which took us nearly all the way to the Eastern tip of the island. We saw a lot of lemon butterflies in the bushes which was quite surprising at this time of the year. From the top of Ciovo, the horizon was delimited by the shape of all the neighbouring islands. For once there were a few boats out on the sea, sign that the region was economically active. We had a picnic by the shore looking at Split and its mountainous background on the occasion of our three thousandth kilometre since we had left Hendaye. Somehow, it was just one more step forward, but we felt that we had gone a long way and that our initial project of going to Corfu wasn't completely unrealistic, no matter if we actually would reach Corfu.
We followed the shore up to Slatine on time for the 3pm ferry to Split. Everything was resolutely quiet in this small village, siesta time so to speak. Two ladies were enjoying the sun topless on the white pebble beach. We had a coffee at the cafe of Slatine which was still open, right opposite a small grocery store. The view of the sea towards Split was of an enchanting blue. A couple of locals had gathered at the end of the pier to wait for the ferry a few minutes before schedule. We saw that as a positive sign that a ferry would come, and it did on time.
Approaching Split from the sea is a really great experience. The "Riva" or waterfront is planted with solid palm trees that provide punctuation to the old heterogeneous wall of the retirement palace of Diocletian, a Roman emperor, who decided at fifty years old that he wanted to retire in what is now Split. In 295 AD, he ordered the construction of large palace, and ten years later, he moved in.
During his stay in power, he was known to very effective in persecuting Christians. The town of Split expanded progressively around the palace after the inhabitants of the Roman city of Solin took refuge to the palace following the invasion from the Avars who destroyed Solin in the 7th century AD. Solin, former Salona, was the capital of the Roman province of Dalmatia and the birth place of Diocletian. Ever since Split has grown in size as the regional capital of Dalmatia. Time gave the Christians a revenge on Diocletian when his mausoleum was turned into a Cathedral adjoining which an airy and tall bell-tower was built right by the peristyle of the palace. The conversion of temples to churches happened around the sixth century when people thought they would be better protected by the Catholic Saints than by soldiers. The layers of construction and modifications at different periods produced a fascinating and somewhat incongruous mixture of styles, like a chaotic organic growth. Medieval redevelopment is what structured the maze of alleyways as one can see them today within the palace's wall. Of course, continuous changes were made according to the taste of the town leaders. For example, Gothic style came with Venetian influence.
The Luxor café, right opposite the Cathedral on the peristyle, is supplying brown and red cushions on the stairs all around the square, for people to sit and sip their drinks, as if they were waiting for a theatrical performance in the space that once was dedicated to ceremonies in the palace. As a matter of fact, it was fun to watch the crowd of selfie-thirsty tourists interacting with students dressed-up as gladiators. In contrast to Trogir, I found that the scale of the palace was such that people couldn't manage to overshadow it no matter how many they were. The perfection of Roman architecture was still impressive despite the many changes that the palace has undergone.
Approaching Split from the sea is a really great experience. The "Riva" or waterfront is planted with solid palm trees that provide punctuation to the old heterogeneous wall of the retirement palace of Diocletian, a Roman emperor, who decided at fifty years old that he wanted to retire in what is now Split. In 295 AD, he ordered the construction of large palace, and ten years later, he moved in.
During his stay in power, he was known to very effective in persecuting Christians. The town of Split expanded progressively around the palace after the inhabitants of the Roman city of Solin took refuge to the palace following the invasion from the Avars who destroyed Solin in the 7th century AD. Solin, former Salona, was the capital of the Roman province of Dalmatia and the birth place of Diocletian. Ever since Split has grown in size as the regional capital of Dalmatia. Time gave the Christians a revenge on Diocletian when his mausoleum was turned into a Cathedral adjoining which an airy and tall bell-tower was built right by the peristyle of the palace. The conversion of temples to churches happened around the sixth century when people thought they would be better protected by the Catholic Saints than by soldiers. The layers of construction and modifications at different periods produced a fascinating and somewhat incongruous mixture of styles, like a chaotic organic growth. Medieval redevelopment is what structured the maze of alleyways as one can see them today within the palace's wall. Of course, continuous changes were made according to the taste of the town leaders. For example, Gothic style came with Venetian influence.
The Luxor café, right opposite the Cathedral on the peristyle, is supplying brown and red cushions on the stairs all around the square, for people to sit and sip their drinks, as if they were waiting for a theatrical performance in the space that once was dedicated to ceremonies in the palace. As a matter of fact, it was fun to watch the crowd of selfie-thirsty tourists interacting with students dressed-up as gladiators. In contrast to Trogir, I found that the scale of the palace was such that people couldn't manage to overshadow it no matter how many they were. The perfection of Roman architecture was still impressive despite the many changes that the palace has undergone.
Split is a quintessential place. The sea, the islands, a strong historical background, an imperial allure dubbed with a large supply of good restaurants fuelled by the abundance of good local food products and cultural places, an element of glamour with the famous Central nightclub that advertised with a picture displaying its spherical dancing cages and the lounge Roof 68 with its terrace overlooking the harbour where people sit on stools as if they where suspended in mid air - a place for beautiful people only with a special motto "Fetish, Food & Me". Then come the beaches on both sides of the harbour. East of the harbour is the beach of Bačvice with a bit of sand and mud but at least no stones. This is where locals play picigin, a water sport that requires one to throw a small ball to another player who should make sure it doesn't fall in the water. The fun of the game is to splash as much water as possible when jumping to catch the ball and possibly falling into the water. Bačvice distinguishes itself with a place seriously called "The Boss Club". West of the harbour are few stone beaches at the feet of the Marjan Forest Park. As we came down from the steep hill to join the waterside trail that connects all the small swimming spots, we walked past three elderly men in bathing suits who were playing cards at sunset around a white plastic table that they probably had brought along with them.
A few hundred meters further a complete wall had been colourfully covered with graffiti. The light was ideal for pictures. A couple appeared around the corner in wedding clothes in the hunt for a perfect wedding shot. They looked tired however. But that was the price to pay to create a hopefully memorable memory!
Last but not least, Split is having a vision for the 22nd century! It wants to become the Dubai of the Adriatic sea by building an artificial island with a big tower in the bay to attract wealthy residents and many visitors.
A few hundred meters further a complete wall had been colourfully covered with graffiti. The light was ideal for pictures. A couple appeared around the corner in wedding clothes in the hunt for a perfect wedding shot. They looked tired however. But that was the price to pay to create a hopefully memorable memory!
Last but not least, Split is having a vision for the 22nd century! It wants to become the Dubai of the Adriatic sea by building an artificial island with a big tower in the bay to attract wealthy residents and many visitors.
Images:
1/ Slatine beach, Ciovo Island: is summer really over?
2/ Zadar, sea organs
3/ Plitvice National Park
4/ Trogir
5/ Split, west entrance of the palace
6/ Split seen from the bell tower
2/ Zadar, sea organs
3/ Plitvice National Park
4/ Trogir
5/ Split, west entrance of the palace
6/ Split seen from the bell tower
Zadar, sea organs |
Plitvice National Park |
Trogir |
Split, west entrance of the palace |
Split seen from the bell tower |
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