The Bus to Zagreb (10/1/05)

Zagreb is the capital of Croatia and its biggest city.

Like everything in this country, it's accumulated quite a story over the centuries, the most recent weighty chapter being the war with Serbia (primarily), referred to as the “Homeland War”.

After picking up my bag from baggage claim, I stand outside to await my bus to the city. A slight figured man appears before me and starts speaking Croatian. He quickly perceives my befuddlement and begins speaking English, which is unexpected, as rather than being young and hip (two characteristics of English-speaking Croats) his faced is deeply creased from hard living and cigarettes (which he rolls like joints). He wears an old suit. We board the bus and he sits next to me.

We share our stories. He lives in nearby Bosnia. As he tells me of his life in a concentration camp 10 years ago, I note a tattooed number on his hand. He harbors no ill will toward the world, he emphasizes, just keeps trying to make a living.

About half an hour later, we arrive in Zagreb, and I begin my journey to find my hotel, called "Slisko" which thankfully is near the bus station. I find it rather quickly. Later, my Croatian cousin, Boris, would tell me that Slisko was the name of a Mafia man killed mid-day in the town square.

After checking in, I begin my walkabout. The main city centers are within walking distance. Night falls, and I keep walking. Soon, walking turns to limping, as my Achilles tendon persists in giving me the middle finger. My hip – the one injured by a bicycle injury two years ago, joins the tendon’s protest. If anyone spotted me in the shadows, they thought, "I hope that poor old man makes it home before he collapses".

After 36 hours of wakefulness, I thought I'd fall asleep quickly once my head hit the pillow, but I soon learned that Zagreb doesn't sleep on Saturday evening. The talking, shouting, beeping and heel clicking on the sidewalks outside my window endures the whole night and compromises my rest, as did the five 3x2 foot lighted, lettered cubes abutting my room’s window that spells "HOTEL" . This room needs an opaque curtain.