At breakfast we say goodbye to our new friends and exchange contacts. We joke with Kirsten and Andrew that we’re already calling Marybeth & Rob’s cabin in Calgary “our cabin” and will meet them there during our 2024 autumn trip to British Columbia. But the most bittersweet goodbye is with our hostesses, Zrinka & Barbara. It’s almost as sad as when Ranger left.
Willing the continued rain away, Mandy is already dressed
for the beach, white mini skirt and bright pink top. The first 45 minutes or so are on small winding
roads south and west, then we merge onto the highway where the Toyota Eggo can
really refuse to shine. The E65 into the
Dalmatian region is along the top ridge and as we head south, everything on our
right is a mile straight down to the sea.
It’s exceptionally windy today and we’re getting blown all over the
road. We stop for fuel at what feels
like the highest rest stop on the planet and Mandy can barely get the car door
open against the gusts. Once we get
inside however, it’s unbelievably nice, immaculate with breakfast buffet that
rivals any hotel we have been on this trip.
Back on the road, I push the car to it’s limit and am able to hit 160km/hr
(about 105), but that’s literally down a long steep hill with a 50 mile an hour
tailwind.
We arrive in Split and it’s a bigger city then I thought,
home to about 160,000 people. We wind
our way through Split proper to the Old Town.
“Old Town” is a bit of a misnomer.
It’s actually Diocletian’s Palace, an entire village stuffed into a walled
castle, complete with cathedral, bell tower, courtyards and myriad apartments. Most of the ground floor spaces are now
retail, catering to the flocks of tourists stuffed inside even though this is
the shoulder season. An outdoor market stretches
almost the entire perimeter outside the walls.
It’s a lot, especially given the peaceful lake region we just came
from. We walk a bit inside Old Town,
then outside to try for a good pic from a high vantage point.
We find a quiet courtyard café for a nice lunch of fresh
salad, mussels and yes, a bottle of local white wine. The salad is exceptional, the fresh greens loaded
with smoked salmon and tuna prosciutto, thin slices of fresh tuna smoked and
seasoned to luscious perfection.
We drop off the car then Uber back to the ferry port right outside
the Old Town walls. The TP Line catamaran
ferry is a calm, professional operation with orderly boarding, comfortable
seats and working air conditioning, so the smooth 60 minute ride restores our
faith in mass water transit after the tumult that was last year’s Greek ferry
adventure. We arrive in Hvar to perfect late
summer weather, blue skys, mid 80s. A
porter with a utility golf cart swoops up our bags so we are free to walk empty
handed along the promenade to Hotel Moeesy Blue and Green Oasis, a newer property
with clean lines and a Zen vibe. Checked
in and sorted, we wander back into the center of the village just in time to
catch the sun setting over the water.
Dinner is at Junior, where we’re treated to yet
another fantastic fish platter served by the friendly, professional (and to
hear Mandy tell it, very good looking) staff. Dinner is leisurely, the relaxed pace setting
us into the rhythm of the island. The Croatian
music is vaguely Billy Joel-ish, so we ask our waiter who is singing. Proudly, he comes back with a slip of paper
with one word written on it. Dalmantino.
Of course. Who else but Dalmantino the Dalmatian. Done,
we take in the sights of Hvar Town at night and can’t resist a nightcap at the posh
ka’lavanda bar where we sip well mixed cocktails to the thumpy beat of EDM.
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