Dubrovnik, Day 1

We got up early, 6 AM to get all the way from Split to Dubrovnik in one day of riding. Not that the distance is that far, but one never knows what happens on the roads in foreign countries. Detours can alter the timing, Traffic jams are unpredictable, etc. We wanted to make sure and it is a pleasure to ride in the early morning hours. It was a double pleasure this day because it was Sunday and the roads were almost void of vehicles. We made amazing time, riding through towns, having all the space for ourselves. No restaurants were open, just a few early morning folks were about, but most of Croatia, on a Sunday morning, sleeps in. The towns are nice towns. The roads are in wonderful condition. The way follows the coast line and winds itself up and down hills, around every conceivable shore with beautiful vistas. It makes for good riding. It was a fantastic ride. There are not many places on earth that are like this for a motorcycle fan. Not dangerous, not extreme, just sweeping and a relaxed way to go.
We arrived just before noon and the hunt was on to find a place to stay. First thing is to get a hang of how the town is laid out. We found the old city, our target and it is huge, immense, walled,
with only 2 gates and only for pedestrians. Hotels! Where are they? I saw one place (Hotel Sesame) I read about in Carol’s book but it is a bit away from the main gate. It looked pretty; I knew it had 4 rooms and each one rented out for 150 Euros, if they are available. I saw a few signs for Apartments for let. We needed to think and were just stopped and talking to each other on our bikes near the bus station, when Edi asked us if we were looking for a place to stay. Edi Mačinko is an operator. I believe he is a good business man. I reminded me a little of Francis in Lima Peru. Edi (like spaghetti, he says) owns two houses near the Pile Gate and rents rooms and apartments to tourists. His place is set back from the street and no signs would yield enough customers. His houses are down a narrow alley nobody walks through. Edi stands near the bus station, near the main entrance to the old city and scans for potential customers. He can sort out not so good people, he tells us. We looked like the kind of customers he would like to have. With Edi’s help a lot of things about Dubrovnik became very easy. He helped us move our bikes into a free parking space. The parking space is a public space for scooters and bikes but Edi said, is very safe with camera security and it is ok to leave our bikes there. Naturally we took all of our possessions with us. The first night we had an apartment with a small kitchen and a bathroom under the stairs. Yes, with a hand held shower, that is just how it is down here. Yet this clean but eclectic room had a partial ocean view. At night, with the windows open you can hear the waves break on the rocky shore. We moved from this spot the following day just to get a real, American style, shower. Edi made a list for us of places to eat and gave us some hints as to what to do and when to do it. It was a question of do we trust Edi or do we look at him as an operator that cannot be trusted. We chose the former and it worked out well for us. Sometimes help sits right next to the road, even talks to you but you need to decide if you want to take it or not. We walked the town this first day of our visit and explored some of the narrow alleyways until our feet hurt. We ate dinner at the ancient harbor, dating back to Roman times and strolled along the Main Street (Stradun) licking an ice cream cone. Life has been good for us in Croatia thus far. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

Split

I find the name odd, there is nothing splitting about Split. On the way to Split we were near the town of Šibenik and it said in our book there was a famous cathedral to view. We tried, but either the cathedral is so small we missed it, or it is not inside the town. The traffic was so bad, we split. (Pun intended.) Somehow churches and I don’t work out.
Once back on the main road along the coast, I saw a sign for a mechanic, car wash facility, etc. The place looked clean and well organized so I asked if the guy could fix my side stand. I lucked out, the owner spoke English well, he was part of a Croatian Motorcycle club and he was mechanically all set up and capable. His name is Romeo. He inspected my side stand with a strong light and he found that the whole stand was cracked way up under the bike. To unscrew all, to do a perfect repair job would have taken two days. I opted for him to electro weld the broken part while it was still on the bike. We fabricated some kind of addition to the existing side stand so it will not lean over so far. We found a piece of metal piping and with some thinking and tinkering we came up with a workable do-hickey of a side stand.
It looks funny yet works just great. It is strong and welded well, reinforced inside with an iron bar and a screw was added to give some beef to an otherwise hollow section. Romeo’s son, Niko, drilled a few holes into my broken windshield and we kind of sewed the windshield together using plastic tie-mes. The windshield no longer flops in the wind. The whole fixing job took about 2 hours, a lot of effort went into the work and Romeo did a great job. Should you be stranded on the road near Split, email him. Romeo.baraka@si.htnet.hr Or call his cell +385 91 5583853 (95 81 70700) he will more than help you get going in Croatia. Above his shop he has 2 apartments for rent in case it becomes a long repair. A food store is next door. You could survive there and have your bike well taken care of.
Carol carries a big volume of Frommer’s Eastern Europe. We use it to get our bearings and this book spells out that it is difficult and expensive to get a room in Split. When we entered the town I disregarded the “Do not enter” street sign and considered myself a ‘resident’ who is allowed to drive through some restricted streets. I immediately got a better understanding of the way Split is laid out. Riding around, not through, the old part of the city helped me get my bearings. I saw a side street not far from the old walls and drove right in. I saw a sign, rooms for rent and stopped to take a closer look. Way in the back yard, down a step I saw the same sign again. Ok, I parked the bike, knocked at a door and an old lady cautiously opened the gate. Her English was poor, she spoke no German and my Croatian is non-existent. I checked out the room but did not check out the bathroom too closely. The bathroom was down the hall, it was shared with the proprietors. I took the place for 2 nights and with a little haggling paid 400 Kuna (57 Euros) for the 2 days. No breakfast. It was a bargain especially since it came with a parking spot for 2 bikes, secure in the backyard of the house. The room was Spartan but very clean. The bathroom situation was challenging in the beginning, especially since it had no shower and there was a 15 inch (at least) step up into the bathroom but we managed just fine, using the hand held device as a shower and letting the water drip right onto the floor. Many places in the Balkans have such a bathroom set up. A hand held shower used in the tub, for example, without the shower curtain. No worry about where the water will fly. Just hold the gizmo against your skin and the water will not fly far. Works great! You hardy spill any water that way if you do it right.
The town of Split itself is worth a visit. I am not sure we needed the 2 days we had because after one day, one gets the hang of the place. Carol and I took a guided city tour for 100 Kuna plus we paid an additional 25 Kuna for the basement tour. Our guide spoke English well and the tour lasted about 1 hour plus.
The main attraction of Split is the Palace of Diocletian. Diocletian was a Roman Emperor (245 to 316 AD) who is the only Roman Emperor who ever abdicated his reign. While he was in office he had his retirement palace built near Salona (today Solin), the center of Roman activity in the Dalmatia. Diocletian’s planning worked out well, after 21 years on the throne he did move into his huge Palace which spans about 10 acres. Built with slave labor and begun in 293 it took 12 years to finish. The Emperor occupied the palace in 305 and after his death in 316 it was used by the Roman Government. Avars and Slavs attacked in the 7th Century and destroyed Salona, the major Roman city nearby. Split became the refuge for the remaining Roman citizens, who defended the Palace which has walls up to 6 feet thick and nearly 100 feet high at some points. There were so many people however, that the Palace was not big enough and people established a new town next to the Palace walls, today’s Split. Instead of ripping down the Roman Palace the folks then incorporated the walls, the rooms, the temples, the houses, the facilities into their new buildings. A major part of the Roman architecture was now part of the town. Restaurants had three new walls and another wall that was pure Roman, including columns that were stolen in ancient times from Egypt. Split is a mix of antiquity, of medieval structures and of layouts originating in Roman decree. The roads inside the old city are narrow, no vehicle is allowed within its walls. Specially constructed delivery platforms have been developed to deliver goods to stores. People that live inside these ancient walls, and some 3000 people still do, have their good delivered by these motorized contraptions.
Split today is not only the old town but continues up the hill and expands beyond the ancient area. Solin (Salona), the old Roman center of Dalmatia is only 6 Km away and is today a modern, albeit very industrial looking harbor town. If it were not for Diocletian retiring to his Palace, which today is called Split, Croatia would have lost out big. Split is a huge tourist mill, spitting out Euros, Dollars, and Kuna for Croatia on a daily basis. I guess a lot of Croatians owe Diocletian a huge thank you for providing a good life.

Vodice and the bikes

The morning did not start off so great. Carol’s bike would not start. I thought it to be a weak, run down battery, maybe from the GPS left on overnight. Normally a GPS does not draw much current so I had my doubts but all signs said it is the battery. Now, I am no mechanic, even less an electrician. I could not even find the battery of the 650 GS. Lucky for me, Carol had a service manual that showed us how to remove the right side panel to access the battery. Sure enough, I found the battery in front of the tank but under all the plastic. Naturally I accessed the negative side first and had to take the left panel off, too to get to the positive terminal. Since I had done this many times on my GS Adventure, I knew how to start a bike using my alternator terminals, instead of the battery poles on my bike. Maybe there is an easier way to start a GS 650, without the extra work of taking the panels off but I do not know it. The 650 finally started up well and we ran the engine while I put the covers back on. We were off towards the town of Split in no time. There was no need to do anything but ride to charge up the battery on the 650. The major road was in great condition and we made good time.
The signage is still a bit tough for me. I knew we had to take the ferry in Prizna to cross over to Pag Island. You would think that a major sign would show you the ferry terminal, but no, just a small yellow sign spelling out the way towards Prizna. This is a major road change yet it gets no special attention from the highway department. I guess everybody knows that there is a ferry so why bother advertising it with a big, maybe even overhead sign? OK, I found the road to the ferry, paved, well maintained with even a sign showing that we needed to buy a ticket for the ship before we proceeded to the boarding area.
This ticket office, small and insignificant looking, is new, built on the side of the road on a rather steep downhill slope. I don’t know about you, but I hate to park my bike facing downhill. Looking around I saw a better, albeit not perfect area near the ticket booth itself. I rode the bike closer to the booth itself, got off the bike and made sure the bike could stand on the side stand. It felt a bit precarious but I thought it was ok for the time I needed to buy 2 tickets. Just as I walked up to the window I heard a loud crash and my bike was laying on the ground behind me. It had toppled over the side stand and was now on the left side, wheels in the air. It had toppled over despite the side stand being down. I stood dumb struck. I tried to lift the bike but the side stand prevented me from doing any good. In addition, the mass of the bike was on the downhill side. What to do? How much damage was done? I asked the guy in the booth to help but he was very reluctant. Carol could not help; she was still sitting on her bike, with no safe place to park it on the rather steep downhill slope. With some effort I was able to get the side stand kicked back which freed the bike a bit. I bought the 2 tickets for the ferry and must have made such a stupid face to the attendant that he felt obliged to help. The two of us muscled the bike upright and I tried to use the side stand but something was askew.
Adrenaline still pumped in my blood so I somehow got on the bike without the side being down and rode to the waiting area for the ferry. The bike ran fine. Once at the waiting area I put the bike on the center stand. It is hard to get off the bike not using the side stand. I managed with Carol’s help but I do not like the maneuver. To make things worse, I had to do this again on the ferry, since normally, for the short 15 minute crossing; the bike would just stand on the side stand. All this happened rather quickly. I was busy buying the ticket; fussing with the damaged side stand; parking the bike in the waiting area; getting again on the bike; getting it on to the ferry; etc. I had no time or space to look over the bike. The bike ran well.
Well, on the ferry, some other bikers from Belgium noticed that I was losing gasoline; it was pouring out of the overflow hose. Just before the fall I had filled up with gas, the tank was filled to the top. When the bike fell, gasoline must have gotten into the overflow and now it started pouring out. To eliminate the air pressure in the tank I opened the gas cap and, like a small geyser, gasoline bubbled up and out onto the tank and all over the ferry deck and all over the bike. The bike was still hot from running on the highway. This gas spill made me nervous. One guy was smoking nearby and that made me really nervous but his buddy asked him to move further away.
What do I do now? A quick visual check assured me that nothing was broken, no gas line was ruptured. That was good. I noticed now that the windshield had major scrapes and that the right side of the plastic windscreen was totally broken. The windscreen was actually broken in half. I just stood and watched the gasoline pouring out. Nothing I could do to stop it. I knew from experience that it will stop in time as soon as the air pressure in the gas line is equaled out. I also knew that the charcoal filters, the air pollution device on my bike would now be saturated with gasoline and that the bike might not start. The least it would do is not run well for at least 20 miles. I knew this because it has happened to me before. When the gasoline gets into the charcoal filter it chokes the system with too much gas. The gasoline needs to evaporate or be used up in the recovery system and that takes a bit of time. Nobody wanted to be near me, the guy with the leaking bike, reeking like gasoline. I wiped up as much of the gasoline as I could with the use of some paper towels I had on me. Carol gave me some wipes, too.
Still, as soon as the ferry stopped, the others made a fast departure from the ticking gas bomb. I waited as long as I could but I needed to get off the ferry to make room for the people behind me to get off. So I hit the starter button and the bike started just fine. I rode off the center stand and kept on moving off the ferry, onto the road and just like I anticipated, the motor begun to stutter. I rode on. I was using the accelerator very carefully to not pour too much gas into the system. I rode in high rpm’s to use up as much gas as I could but no matter what I did, I had to shift up to the next gear and every time I up shifted, the engine almost died. This went on for about 15 miles and then, like a mystery, it went away.
Meanwhile the windshield flopped a little in the breeze. I could not stop because I could not use the side stand. All this commotion and I had to use the washroom. How do I stop? Lucky for me the road is rather dull and boring and not heavily trafficked. I find a coffee, sandwich shop and while I sit on the bike, Carol found a hunk of wood to push under the side stand. The bike could stand like this but it was not good, I rode in a similar way last year all through Norway and had devised a side-stand support from a 2x4 but not this year. I needed to get this fixed. After we had a break, I found a piece of a tree trunk and carried it with me, just in case I needed to use it.
The weather was hot, temperature was near 30 degrees C and the sun was beating on us. Yes, we wanted to make the town of Split but why push ourselves? I had had enough excitement for the day, let’s find a town we like and stay there for one night. Looking at the map we decided to stop in the town of Vodice. We could have made it to Split but why push on? We will make Split tomorrow. Meanwhile we call it an early day and enjoy Vodice, which turned out to be a very elegant, almost rich boating town with a very historical downtown. The hotel we found was within walking distance of all the attractions and the beer that night tasted delicious.

Sveti Juraj

Amazing what one day of riding in a new county can do. I felt better on the roads the 2nd day and we wiggled our way back up the eastern part of Istria and I was looking forward to riding along the coastal road. The map suggested we backtrack for a while and then, after Labin, take a road that goes along the Adriatic coast. So much for our planning! There was a detour. I followed the detour signs one by one and felt good because once in a while a sign gave me positive reinforcement that I was on the correct road. Yet the road we took was not at all coastal but more of the inland experiences we had yesterday. We ended up just west of the town of Učka. We had a choice here; do we take the new, 5.1 Km tunnel along a toll road or the old road to Učka over the mountain pass? We choose the pass, naturally, and what a ride this turned out to be. The road surface over the pass was excellent. The corners were constant, not the smallest section had a straight away and there were 19% grades. This went on for 26 Km, Wow, what a road! Yet I saw hardly a motorcycle in sight. I think I saw one other bike on this road. In the U.S. this would be a biker’s heaven. I must say that the ADAC group marked this spot but Carol and I had chosen the coastal road along the Istria Peninsula which was not that great. The Učka pass however is a must take road. The section takes all your concentration and was wonderful. The town of Učka is so small that you will most likely miss it at 1401 meters at the top of the Vojak Mountain.
Coming down from Vojak Mountain we entered the very large town of Rijeka. Rijeka is an active harbor town that hugs some small areas of flat land along the coast. The signs now told me to follow the road towards Split. Even though Split is far away, that is the direction indicated on the signs. Finding the way through town was a bit tricky since again, there is only one sign and the sign is not always large and the direction is not always logical. Go straight and then immediately move left to make a left hand turn. I found the route ok and I was glad to leave Rijeka behind me.
From now on, we just followed the directions towards Split. This made negotiating traffic a lot easier. We were on the main road now going south. The road was in very good condition. Mostly hugging the coast, it winds through picturesque smaller towns and in order to see these towns we had to get off the main road. We did this once in Crikvenica, just to see the town. I used the Bankomat (ATM) and then we went on our way. The town was pretty but it was too early to stop for the day.
We rode on to the smaller town of Sveti Juraj. I cannot say why we stopped here. The weather by now was warm. The temps were around 25 C; the sky was blue and sunny. The time was mid-afternoon; around 3.30 PM. Normally, we ride longer. Yet on this trip the distances are packed with newness so that pushing on for the sake of more miles seems ludicrous. We stopped for the day. The town is really small. It is an active fishing harbor. We see a Konuba right on the water, a trattoria, a gasthaus. This place is kind of like a hotel but privately run and more like a family business. The price is 40 Euro per night without breakfast. Breakfast would be another 20 Euro. I think it expensive and we ride through town looking for other places. We are told by one guy that there is a place next to the town cemetery. We find the place, the owner even speaks a bit of English but he is still closed for the season. Two old ladies are walking on the road; one speaks German and tells me to go to an agency.
We saw this agency right across from the Konuba. Two young gals managed the place and one led us in her car to a house way up a hill, away from everything for 35 Euro per night. Nice place but not a good place to park the bike, nor a good place to get a meal at night, etc. We went back to the first place and paid the asking price of 40 Euro, without breakfast. Our room was overlooking the water, we had a balcony with a table and chairs, and we could park our bikes in their gated front yard. It was a good spot albeit a bit high in cost. Walking around town we found a market and bought our breakfast but found that had we paid the extra 20 Euro we would not have been cheated either.
Sometimes my head expects things to be a certain way but in reality things are different. I like a bargain yet sometimes I need to realize you do get what you pay for. While walking around town we found a few other restaurants but we opted to eat at our trattoria. We made the right choice. The food was first class. The garlic on the mussels was wonderful, the salad fresh and the Calamari grilled just right. We slept with the balcony door wide open, hearing the ocean waves break against the rocky shore, a slight breeze drifted the scent of a wood fire into our noses, and the moon shone silvery over the anchored boats. We were in a small jewel of a place. Life is good.

Medulin, Croatia

The ride along the bit of coast in Slovenia was not very long and with just the pro forma of a passport check and a friendly, “Have a good trip”, we entered Croatia and the Istria Peninsula. Yes, the first impression of Croatia showed a difference. Croatia is not as rich as Slovenia. I am glad the first few miles in Croatia were very rural. I had to get used to the signs again. There is only one sign for a direction. If you miss it, you will ride the wrong way. In a few instances the sign pointed the way straight ahead only to point left or right a few yards after the original sign. Strange, but it does make sense in a certain, nutty way. Go straight but after you go straight, turn left. This is especially tough when entering a larger town. I noticed this right away in a town like Umag, not far from the border. Sure enough, we got lost a bit, not badly, just into a dead end. Turned around and off we went on the correct road.
Following the map of the ADAC group we wiggled ourselves down the western coast with some bumps inland. I was looking for the reasons the ADAC group picked these roads as motorcycle roads. The area was kind of blah with fields and hardly any towns to speak off. One section, after the town of Buje, had some interesting curves and some downhill areas along a river but as a whole, I cannot understand why these roads were picked. Poreč, a town on the coast, had an old Basilica but I have this thing about churches. We rode along and got lost on purpose in Rovinj, another coastal town that sprouts a castle and a small section for tourists. Yes, we are tourists but I never want to consider myself a tourist.
We did not stay in Rovinj even though a one night stop would have been ok. It was early in the day and the ride itself was a bit boring. We searched out Pula, a large town on the tip of the Istria, known for its Roman Amphitheater. Amazingly I found the ruin easily, but had to ask directions a few times. Hidden in the center of town, not visible from afar, was the theater that could hold 25,000 people in its heyday. Today, it serves as an occasional theatre for orchestral performances or off-off Broadway plays. The total outer ring of the Amphitheater is intact yet the inside had been looted, demolished or altered since Roman times. We paid the 40 Kuna (6 Euro?) admission but I was disappointed. The advertisement for the place was good; the reality of the place was warm, not hot. Carol felt a sense of awe to be standing in the same place that Romans stood nearly 2000 years ago, but she also had a feeling of repulsion at the cruelty and bloodshed that had occurred here.
Now we needed a place to stay and we decided on the most southern town on this spit of land and rode to Medulin. Arriving in town, I asked for a good place to stay and a local guy pointed the way to the beach. He said “Do not pay more than 30 Euro for a place to stay, including breakfast” but I could not get the place we wanted for less than Euro 39. Croatia is used to long rentals; a 3-day stay is the norm here. To stay overnight only, like we like to do, creates a situation where the hotel or motel owner has extra work, changing linens and towels, etc. For 3 days you will get the same towels and sheets. For this extra work of a one day stay, they will charge extra.
By the way, I had to speak German as English is not yet commonly spoken here. A lot of Croatian men have worked in Germany for awhile, saved some money and then have returned to their homeland to buy a motel, a shop or build a house, etc. They cannot get work in Germany any longer but by now they have found ways to make money in their own county. Anyhow, I ordered food, coffee, gasoline, etc, speaking German. I was amazed myself that so many people spoke German in Croatia. English is a bit tough for the Croatians. Most tourists, I believe are from the German speaking areas and it is natural for the Croatians to learn that language first. Signs along the way in Croatia are written in both languages, Croatian and German.
We found the Pension Hilde 2 within walking distance of the ‘boardwalk’, with a secure place to put our bikes, with a large restaurant attached and a clean room. We moved in for the night. We walked the short promenade along the water and saw a campground and with nothing else to do, we took a stroll through it. This was a large place. I can see that in the summer this place is hopping. In May the season is not yet in full swing so we just saw a few of the early birds. The campground had all you could want; good spots for tents, good spots for trailers, restaurants, playgrounds for the kids, waterslides, washing facilities for cars and campers, etc. The place was huge and walking around the campground, I was glad we did not bring our tent on this trip. To set up and break down a tent each day takes time. To find a food store is ok, but then you eat alone, away from others. The way we travel now, finding a local establishment with rooms, eating in nearby local places is the way to go for us. Yes it might be more expensive but then how long do we have to save before enjoying the money we have? We ate at a local place that was crowded, not at our Hilde2 place. Naturally, we had fish; we are at the seashore after all.
It was grilled to perfection, washed down with a glass of beer, we called it a day.