Ivo is going back to work in Rijeka and has offered me a lift to Krk Town which I passed on the way to Punat. He has to stop off there to deliver some documents to the bank or something like that. I sat at a nearby cafe and had a coffee. When he turned up he said that he was running late and couldn't join me for a cuppa. So we said our goodbyes there.
I took a walk around the old town and found the youth hostel. It's closed and looked like it had been for quite a while. I moseyed around for a while. The town is mildly attractive. It's drizzling slightly. Perhaps the inclement weather was a factor but something snapped in me. I didn't doubt that I could find some other accommodation if I wanted but I decided there and then that I didn't feel like spending another night in small-town Croatia. I longed for the bright lights.
I took a few pictures of the harbour for keepsakes and headed for the bus station. At Rijeka I had time for a haircut and lunch. I had spotted an old-fashioned barber shop in the way in. The old barber understood Italian and gave me a nice cut.
Rijeka has tall buildings, probably the tallest since Zadar or perhaps Split, testifying to its mercantile history. But I didn't want to tarry because it doesn't have much in the way of tourist attractions. It has good transport connections, it's the largest port of Croatia, and it had a strong shipbuilding industry before many jobs went to lower cost countries. Recall that Rijeka was the ultimate destination of the ferry Marco Polo from Bari via Dubrovnik. In fact that ferry might very well have been born here.
The bus made one stop in Karlovac, which was already known to me via the Croatian beer brewed there, but otherwise stuck to the main highway. At Zagreb I called a hotel in the spa town of Stubičke Toplice and asked if they had room. It would cost a bit more, but it would save me from having to make a separate day trip. Bad luck, they were full. Well that's the end of that idea. I rang the Ravnice hostel, which is run by a Croatian lady returned from Australia, and got some tram directions. When I checked in she was horrified when I mentioned that I didn't see any ticket seller on the tram. Apparently you are supposed to buy tickets from kiosks before boarding. Innocent me, I figured that I could explain if asked.
The hostel is full of strange people, some talking into walkie-talkies, some carrying clipboards, some working on sound or camera equipment. Apparently the lounge has been rented out for the day to a film crew shooting an episode of a TV soapie.
I had spotted a Chinese restaurant in the city on the way to the hostel so I headed back there for dinner. It was just a simple meal of Kung Pao Gai Ding with steamed rice, but I had not had a Chinese meal for over a month and missed the cuisine badly. I noticed what would be a recurring pattern in Croatia and Slovenia—the waiter would be a Croat or Slovene to be able to better communicate with the customers, but the owners and kitchen staff would be Chinese.
After dinner, I walked to the train station to check departure times for Ljubijana. It was a beautiful cool Middle European evening in the low 20s. For a capital, Zagreb seems poorly lit. There were a few seedy looking characters at the tram stops outside the station, but I didn't feel threatened as there were many ordinary people waiting for trams even at that late hour.
The film crew was still in the lounge when I got back. I'll have to access the Internet tomorrow.
The bus made one stop in Karlovac, which was already known to me via the Croatian beer brewed there, but otherwise stuck to the main highway. At Zagreb I called a hotel in the spa town of Stubičke Toplice and asked if they had room. It would cost a bit more, but it would save me from having to make a separate day trip. Bad luck, they were full. Well that's the end of that idea. I rang the Ravnice hostel, which is run by a Croatian lady returned from Australia, and got some tram directions. When I checked in she was horrified when I mentioned that I didn't see any ticket seller on the tram. Apparently you are supposed to buy tickets from kiosks before boarding. Innocent me, I figured that I could explain if asked.
The hostel is full of strange people, some talking into walkie-talkies, some carrying clipboards, some working on sound or camera equipment. Apparently the lounge has been rented out for the day to a film crew shooting an episode of a TV soapie.
I had spotted a Chinese restaurant in the city on the way to the hostel so I headed back there for dinner. It was just a simple meal of Kung Pao Gai Ding with steamed rice, but I had not had a Chinese meal for over a month and missed the cuisine badly. I noticed what would be a recurring pattern in Croatia and Slovenia—the waiter would be a Croat or Slovene to be able to better communicate with the customers, but the owners and kitchen staff would be Chinese.
After dinner, I walked to the train station to check departure times for Ljubijana. It was a beautiful cool Middle European evening in the low 20s. For a capital, Zagreb seems poorly lit. There were a few seedy looking characters at the tram stops outside the station, but I didn't feel threatened as there were many ordinary people waiting for trams even at that late hour.
The film crew was still in the lounge when I got back. I'll have to access the Internet tomorrow.
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