To Zadar (10/3)

The author of the Lonely Plant book for Croatia says about Zadar: "...has undergone an astonishing transformation from morose and war damaged to ebullient and dynamic." The plan: Bus from Zagreb to Zadar -- which is about the center of Croatia along the coast -- see what the author exclaims, and then head south along the coast to Sibenik, former home of my mother’s father and launching point to a nearby island called Kraponj, where my father’s father hails.

http://www.photocroatia.com/GALLERY/photo.php?photo=11847&u=745|23

After smothering myself in a nostalgia born of stories, not memories, I’ll head south to Split to meet my friends (Mike, his gal friend Colleen, and buds George and wife Pam; and their friends Stan and wife Mary). The plan continues from there, but you’ll hafta wait for future submissions to learn about it.

Did I mention that the Plan was supposed to include a stop at Plitvice Lakes National Park, one of the natural wonderlands of Croatia? That part of the Plan was tossed when the surly bus driver proved to me that I don’t where I am. Duh.

Humper

Two people commander a bus in Croatia: driver and ticket master/luggage-humper. The Humper took one look at me, grumbled something when I massacred his language, and made an effort to aim at me for the duration of the bus trip. The ticket I presented him was to Plitvice; I had none yet for Zadar.

The bus stops many times along the 100+ km trip. Unbeknownst to me, it stops at Plitvice. When it continues after stopping at Plitvice, I remained sitting on the bus, wincing every time Humper walked by checking passenger tickets, including mine, again, sure that he would find something wrong with the punched remnant of a ticket I had and throw me off the bus.

The bus stops by a restaurant, and everyone gets off. I’m confused. I ask the dapper driver the whereabouts of Plitvice. “Passed it” he said, with an Imperial carriage that seemed so befitting a man of his occupation. It’s raining. I made one of my very rare, decisive, on the spot decisions: “May I buy a ticket on to Zadar?” He scowled, though it’s less menacing than Humper’s who is called over and, shaking his head in wonder, presents me a ticket to Zadar.