When I awoke it was pouring outside. Would I be able to go up Medvednica today? At about 1030 it was clear enough to catch a tram to the head of the trail. Tram 15 didn't seem to have been running for a while. The replacement seemed to be bus 233 so I hopped on that. I missed the stop for the cable car station and got off at the next one. A Croatian lady seemed to be indicating to me to follow her. We arrived at a house where a young Croatian woman spoke some English. She said I could just walk up the road we were on or take the "wire". I took that to mean the cable car. I thanked them and started up the road.
After a while I reached the park entrance where there were some nature exhibits on boardwalks but captioned only in Croatian. Then I arrived at a sign reading "10km" followed by a upward zigzag symbol. I should have taken the warning and gone back for the cable car but I thought: normal walking pace is 4 km/h, so allowing for the gradient, maybe 3 hours, and there might be some views.
Well, it turned out to be a long and unrewarding uphill trudge with few views because of the forest. When my mind is faced with unrelenting boredom it escapes into the vast regions of linguistic wordplay. If somebody had been able to hear my mind as I was slogging uphill, they would have heard my brain chuckling to itself over invented spoonerisms. At some point I probably contemplated the huge poster outside Zagreb bus station installed by the local chapter of transparency.org, which exposes corruption. (Note from the future: I recently looked at a map of corruption indexes, and Croatia was about the same as Italy, that is to say, not good for Europe, though ahead of third world countries. Transitioning from an authoritarian system to democracy seems to hit this problem.)
By the 5 km mark I had eaten all the peanuts I had with me. Finally the road passed under the cable. Then houses! But that was false hope, it was just a children's camp. Then a bit further on the junction with a bus stop hove into view. The summit was just a short walk up from the junction. I noted that the next bus down was 1530. I had enough time to have a thirst quenching drink at the restaurant.
The bus took only 30 minutes to undo all the distance I had covered going up, but down the other side of the hill, as the road is a loop. What a waste of several hours. There were no good views from the top, as it was a hazy day. I suppose I got a great workout. I did meet a huge Croatian bunny which warily allowed me to get close enough to take a picture of it, the very last one I took in Croatia, before ambling off.
Back at the hostel, I napped soundly until 1900, then collected my laundry. In the city I found a restaurant serving Croatian cuisine. The 4 sausages were too salty and too many for me. I tried some famous cheese from the island of Pag which was in the part of Croatia I had skipped. I'm no cheese connoisseur and it tasted to me like Pecorino. The Belgian beer was good though. Then, to burn up more kuna I had a premium gelato but it was too sweet. I hoped Slovenian food is better.
I slept very well that night.
After a while I reached the park entrance where there were some nature exhibits on boardwalks but captioned only in Croatian. Then I arrived at a sign reading "10km" followed by a upward zigzag symbol. I should have taken the warning and gone back for the cable car but I thought: normal walking pace is 4 km/h, so allowing for the gradient, maybe 3 hours, and there might be some views.
Well, it turned out to be a long and unrewarding uphill trudge with few views because of the forest. When my mind is faced with unrelenting boredom it escapes into the vast regions of linguistic wordplay. If somebody had been able to hear my mind as I was slogging uphill, they would have heard my brain chuckling to itself over invented spoonerisms. At some point I probably contemplated the huge poster outside Zagreb bus station installed by the local chapter of transparency.org, which exposes corruption. (Note from the future: I recently looked at a map of corruption indexes, and Croatia was about the same as Italy, that is to say, not good for Europe, though ahead of third world countries. Transitioning from an authoritarian system to democracy seems to hit this problem.)
By the 5 km mark I had eaten all the peanuts I had with me. Finally the road passed under the cable. Then houses! But that was false hope, it was just a children's camp. Then a bit further on the junction with a bus stop hove into view. The summit was just a short walk up from the junction. I noted that the next bus down was 1530. I had enough time to have a thirst quenching drink at the restaurant.
Back at the hostel, I napped soundly until 1900, then collected my laundry. In the city I found a restaurant serving Croatian cuisine. The 4 sausages were too salty and too many for me. I tried some famous cheese from the island of Pag which was in the part of Croatia I had skipped. I'm no cheese connoisseur and it tasted to me like Pecorino. The Belgian beer was good though. Then, to burn up more kuna I had a premium gelato but it was too sweet. I hoped Slovenian food is better.
I slept very well that night.
No comments:
Post a Comment