Croatia
from July 12 until July 14 2002

An unwanted intruder on a delicate spot

In the morning we still walk about in the Postojna-caves in Slovenia, in the afternoon we already cycle in Croatia. Travelling by bicycle is so fast!
The weather is lovely, the tarmac-roads well maintained, we are allowed to cross the border without even showing our documents and we climb continuously towards Risnjak National Park. Once there was a campsite, now just a hotel is left. The owner permits us to put our tent on the lawn bordering the lake. A faithful four-footer, normally not a cyclist's friend, guards the tent when we go for a bite in the hotel. The longhaired, light brown creature proves his faith at our return: tent and contents are still there. The next morning the potential calf-biter comes tail wagging up to us when we zip open the tent, he kept guard the whole night. Well, that's enough. Peter thanks him for his loyalty and tells the beast to take the rest of the day off. He doesn't know how to stop though. After breakfast Peter walks into the woods, looking for a private spot. His supporter follows him wherever he goes. Even when Peter's squatting, the dog's standing right in front of him. "Go away, look for bone!" Peter throws away a stick as far as possible in his position, but the dog doesn't budge. He stays with Peter staring upon him with amorous looks. We do learn a lot our first day in Croatia: a Croatian dog doesn't let itself send into the woods with a stick easily. We pack up our stuff and get on our bicycles, tail wagging Peter's stalker looks at him while his eyes ask: "Where are we going today, boss?"

An hour later Peter still looks behind him once in a while, but the dog's nowhere to be seen. Probably he stayed at the hotel, where he belongs. The fact that Peter's paying more attention to the dog then the road almost is fatal to us: somewhere we miss a turn-off to the right, suddenly we're at a Slovenian border-post again. We really do not want to go to Slovenia again, so we take a tiny little road to the right, just before the border. This route is quite beautiful, unfortunately the gradients are sometimes very steep: 10 to 17%. This, in combination with the heat, is too much for me; I walk large distances with my bicycle, crying desperately. In the shadow of a tree I sit in the grass and give up. In the meantime Peter waits for me, one kilometre further on the top of the hill. After a while he starts getting anxious: where has Karin gone? Reluctantly he cycles back and finds me, sobbing under a tree. Together we cycle the last kilometre. Now I know how far the difficult stretch is, I can find the strength to cover it. The second part of this day's journey is difficult in another way: riding through a dense forest without any views at all, heavy traffic alongside us, and a very bad tarmac-road. This moment Croatia doesn't give us a happy feeling. Like a lot of times, all difficulties are forgotten when we find an ideal place to put our tent: alongside a beautiful and quiet river, with a picnic-table and a small piece of grass in front of our tent. While two birds of prey fight over their territory over our heads, we sink in a deep sleep.

Croatia is even more expensive than Slovenia, we discover. A tiny can of beans costs 70 Eurocent, a small bag of crisps 1 Euro 40. What's really ridiculous is the price of an old and ugly packet of biscuits: 2 Euro 75. The only affordable things are bread and milk.

From Vojnovac we see the first after-effects from the Balkan-war: bulletholes in houses, a long trace of machine-gun-bullets on a wall, empty houses: collapsed or intact, women dressed in black. The ethnical purge and forced removals have left their tracks. The atmosphere is different; we can still feel the grimness of war. We don't like it.

At an uninhabited house Peter does a number one. I'm standing at the verge of the road, waiting to continue our trip. As usual Peter looks down; he spots a tiny black dot on his winky. Casually he brushes it of, but it stays. He brushes again, somewhat harder, it still doesn't budge. He bends down and sees 6 little paws moving on the black thing. Damned, a tick. In his winky, of all places, how is this possible?
"Karin, I do have another tick!"
"So what, we'll get it out tonight."
"Absolutely not! It's going out now!"
"Why not tonight, what difference do those few hours make?"
"It's got to get out now, it's is my winky, bring the tick-tongs."
In no time I fish the tongs out of a bag. More cautious than ever Peter moves the shiny and sharp instrument in the direction of his own instrument, concentrated he takes the little black monster in the beak of the tongs. Carefully he moves the tongs away from him and the unwelcome intruder is forced to let go. Yes, yes! He's got it! He's saved!

Next day we cycle as near as possible to the Plitvice-lakes. Despite the rain we do see some waterfalls on the other side of the lakes we're passing. Last night on the campsite we heard that visiting the waterfalls is an expensive affair for tourists: about 15 Euro per person. The only thing you get to see is a lot of water. That's why we decided to choose a road as near to the lakes as possible. Some stretches we walk to be nearer to the lake. Unfortunately the rain is pouring down, so the views are very poor, whether you did pay the entrance-fee or not. After we've seen enough we decide to call it a day and cycle out of the country. Another 18 kilometre and we take the turn-off to Bihac, the first major town in Bosnia-Herzegovina.

Croatia is a beautiful country. It has the same price-level as Italy and other expensive European countries without offering the same level of service. That's a pity. And this is without even mentioning the obtrusive animal-life…