Last Day in Croatia 10/19

Sure that it was 6:45 AM, I pop out of bed to gather my things and make my way to the airport bus, but my watch suggests it’s 2:45 AM. Confused, I settled back into bed and in 15 minutes the bell tower confirms the watch’s assertion by ringing three times. The rest of the night is fitful; I hear every bell till the seven counts urges me from bed.

I have plenty of time before the bus is scheduled to arrive, so I take my time walking to the bus stop. Along the way, there are many perfect spots to sit on a stone wall and look down at the City or at the harbor, or a special building. There are few people roaming around at this hour to distract my attention. I imprint all I can.

Yesterday’s practice run pays dividends as I’m confidently at the right place at the right time. Early, in fact. I observe a garbage collector in a garbage collector outfit. Obviously bored and unmotivated with his work, during the 30 minutes I was there, he shuffles between the garbage can next to my bus stop, to another one across the street, and back again. Amidst this journey, he takes a break and leans against a building for a smoke.

Across the street, a woman in the bakery shop ventures out into the brisk early morning air for a smoke. He slowly ambles toward her and they speak. Since people generally stay around where they were born in Croatia, I imagine they might have known each other all their lives, being that they appeared to be the same age. She disappears for a moment and returns with a loaf of bread which she gives to him. For a beat or two, they both hold their respective ends of the loaf as their eyes touch. No money is exchanged, only smiles.

The bus comes and I go, leaving my smile with them.