Points South

The next morning found us stuffed from last night, in need of an espresso and anxious to see more of the beautifully rugged Croatian coastline. So forgeting the coffee hit off we went on the coast route towards Pula.
The water lapped at the coast just a few meters away, little villages nesttled against the mountains as they tumbbled into hte Adriatic, colorful wooded boats topped with nets and floats bobbed by the shoreline.


The weather was a lovely 70 degrees and sunny, the islands off the coast bring a feeling of both tranquility and expectation to the scenery. Kilometer after curvy kilometer went by with Kelly reading descriptions of the wonders to be found in lovely Pula. It was quite obvious that we were late summer visitors, perhaps too late, as many hotels past by were closed for the winter as were colorful restaurants. Few cars, less trucks, no tractors, no farms, but no sprawl either, no disconnected suburbs with no purpose or reason. Occasionally we would see a house on the hill above the sea apparently in process of being built, with no roof, no windows, no doors but finished in every other way. A curious and unexplained sight. The further south we got the more of these projects popped into view, a sign of coming prosperity? Or something else? Much later an explanation from a new friend the operator in a Split launderette, "Those were Bosnian houses, the people left." I was wordless as was Kelly. The war that wouldn't go away.



I can honestly say there were no straight sections of the road for many, many hours, the day grew long and still no Pula. Around the next bend a larger town somewhat north of Pula, a bridge crossed to get to Centreville and a look see for an available stop for the evening, we had given up in the dim light of late afternoon.

A What In The Middle of Town?

On to Pula in the morning after the traditional Croatian breakfast of every German dish you can think of and the finest Italian espresso you ever had. Down the rugged and winding coastline, kilometer after kilometer the crystal clear Adriatic waters gently lapping at the rocky shoreline. Not many beaches in this northern coastal part, none at all for many, many miles. Minute villages with red tile roofed houses right at the seafront, their foundations wet with the sea itself.

Little double-ended fishing skiffs of their unique design in reds and blues and yellows dot the water. Nets hung up to dry and piled on the bows as well. A beautifully scenic drive.


I exit the car often to clammor over the rocks and stare down into the water for starfish or a crab but only see the rare small fish darting behind the granite rocks. It is as though this was created yesterday, no moss, no sea life at all at times, no seaweed, no shells, no tide line at all. Back in the car along the lonely road to Pula. We stop in a larger town on the sea