It’s hard for me to guess how many flights I’ve taken over the years on my travels. But easy to count on one hand how many missed flight experiences I’ve had over the past few years.
At 0330 I think everyone in the hostel was woken by a very noisy and drunk group of 32 who are staying here. I don’t mind this if it only goes on for a few minutes, but this lasted almost an hour. Then to add to that the person sleeping below me arrived. Some ex military US fella. He was hammered, and although not too noisy added to the problems getting sleep. And to boot the Danish old man woke a few times in the night sounding like he was about to die clearing this throat. Continue reading Greece: Day 13 of 17 I can’t get no sleep
So it’s time to go back to Bucharest and I’m really hoping that it’s going to be a nice bus like the one on the way up here. I get up at 8am and discover that the guy on reception isn’t around so I won’t be getting the 9am bus. I decide to use the time to go out and take a few photos of the city as it’s a nice sunny morning. Continue reading Romania: Day 3 of 17 Wheels on the bus go up and down
Today I am feeling much better, but also a bit sad. Firstly I am leaving my friend Biba who has been very good at looking after me in Zagreb, and even found booze to cure me. And I’ve enjoyed my first taste of Croatia. But also this day marks the end of my whirlwind 13 days in Eastern Europe.
My taxi is outside so I say farewell to Biba. She has kindly drawn me a map of exactly which door to go into to get my airport bus, so I should just make the 8am one. I don’t. Partly because It’s so close to 8am that I panic and go into the main bus station. By the time I find the airport bus it’s leaving. Luckily for me there’s one 30 minutes later which gets me to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I spend almost the last of my change and notes on some sweets for the office and a sandwich and hot drink for me.
I land at Gatwick ahead of schedule and then only have to face the poor public transport home which takes almost 2 hours. Reality has hit me. I am back in the UK. And tomorrow I’ll be back at work as my boss Caroline is saying farewell and leaving for a new job.
The planning for my next trip has already begun. But maybe next time I will take it a little bit slower.
I was up early. This was my first chance to take a look at the old town in the daylight. So armed with my camera I headed to town to see if I could get something for breakfast. On the narrow streets heading to the main square I found a cafe which had some good breakfast deals. Unfortunately there was no chance of getting a seat in here. A few metres further down I spotted a tiny bakery and went in. I got a plain crossaint and one with marmilade. They had no coffee so I had tea instead. The funny thing was that the lady in here didn’t mention that she only had lemon tea until she was handing me the cup. It was a good job I liked the stuff.
I walked in to the square an noticed the unusual bridge which went over the river. It was busy now with lots of people going to the markets including a fairly big flower market.
This was a nice city. With a nice mix of old and new buildings. I walked along a road on the other side of the river and suspect I must have reached the university as there were a lot of students around smoking and having coffee outside cafes.
I had already checked out and left my things at the hostel hotel whatever it was. On my way back I decided to try yet more traditional food for lunch. I went to a place called Pomf where they sold meals in small kettles. I though the woman said that I was having bear and deer stew, but it turned out that this was her just getting the word bear mixed up with boar.
It was a nice lunch washed down with a glass of local red wine.
It was time to catch the train so I made the short journey to the station on foot and went to the platform to catch my afternoon train to Croatia.
The train journey to Zagreb doesn’t take long. We have a strange start though when they ditch a carriage just as we leave and then add another one. We leave a few minutes late, but arrive exactly on time in Zagreb. I can’t see an exit sign so I walk around that station building to the front. I don’t see Biba, but she sees me as I’m just about to go inside the station again. She’s arrived by car and parked right at the front of the station. It’s a short drive back to her place. I offload my things and we make some plans for the evening.
We make our way into town by bus at around 8pm to get some food. This will prove to be a big mistake later. I eat my meal of what looks like a piece of long burger pate with some cheese in it. It is very greasy. The desert is much better thankfully. We leave and head to a bar called ‘Cica’ which in Croatian means titty or boob. As you can see perhaps from the picture of their logo. We try a few of the Croatian brandies or rakijas there.
It’s a really interesting place. Both quirky and relaxed. After a few hours sitting on a padded window ledge I hop down and we head towards the bus terminus to catch the last bus back.
In the middle of the night the food has it’s way and sends me to the bog for a while. This is not a good way to end my trip. I take some of the life saving pepto bismol tablets my friend Kirsten had delivered to me in London from the US a few weeks earlier. I suspect I will need more than this if I am going to have any chance of enjoying my last day in Zagreb.