Accommodating Zadar

Traveling like I do is work, perhaps the most I’ve had of late. You gotta figure out how to get from A to B, get the ticket, find the bus, deflect scowls, know when to get off the bus, find the luggage storage so you can be less encumbered as you trot around looking for accommodations that you can afford, arrange for the place and price, find the place, and pass out for an hour before exploring B.

The sweet lady that rules the luggage storage at Zadar tries her best to give me directions to the least expensive place that Lonely Planet says is close to the “old’ town, but, as I’m finding in every city, Zadar’s roads and walkways are a labyrinth (or perhaps my sense of direction is). I walk ­-- no trudge -- ­ for over an hour, getting more and more frustrated as I twice circle back to where I began. Finally, find the dump, pay my $20 for the night and proceed to get lost on my way to the bus stop to retrieve my luggage. Then, now with luggage hoisted on my back, as opposed to the sane alternative of rolling it, I, again, get lost trying to, again, find the dump. I do make it. I’m wet from rain and sweat. But undaunted, after a quick rest, I suit up and discover Zadar.

Except, I get lost finding it. Or at least this “old” part.