Met Ivica at the Riva he took me to Bacvice, a nice beach to the east of the ferry terminal and train station. We sat in a great café looking out over the beach (one of the few in Split). Having slept decently and already had a cup of tea with breakfast, I tried the hot chocolate, having heard from previous Fulbrighters that their children had loved the chocolate in Croatia, describing it as hot chocolate pudding. Indeed it was. Whether this was the best in town, I don’t know. Nicola joined us, and I learned that it is Ivica’s birthday. – the first person I’ve met who is a leap baby. Today he turns 9!
Later as I get back to the apartment, I find the fridge delivery guy pulling up. But they only deliver to the curb. They will charge extra (“only a little”) to get it into the apartment (turns out to be 60 kuna). It looks fine, but turns out that they aren’t the ones taking away the old fridges. Both of these bulkily huddle in the kitchen by the stove, taking up most of the space.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Croatia at last!
A traveling day. From Dallas to Charlotte to Frankfurt to Split. Uneventful except in Dallas they wouldn’t issue a boarding pass for the Frankfurt to Split leg of the trip. Hoped that wouldn’t be a problem. Charlotte airport won me over with decent food, clear signage and white wooden rocking chairs everywhere in the concourses. Very popular and a great touch at countering the sterility of airport design. Frankfurt airport was a mess: low ceilings, construction, inconsistent signs. Reminded me of why I hate Heathrow. Split is a small airport, the size of Lihue on Kawai (sad but I remember when San Jose was this size too) with only one baggage carousel.
Ivica, my long time email only colleague meets me. I have been wondering what he looks like for a more than a year. Stories are that all Croatians are tall, stylish and good looking. He gets only two out of three as he is my height. With a shaved head, strong features and sunglasses, he is perhaps ten years younger than me. He brought a car, so we are off quickly on a reasonably modern four lane road to town. The architecture as we drive is haphazard. Ivica explains that for years there was no process/enforcement for getting permits, so people built a lot of random ugly houses, often with an unfinished quality about them like I’ve seen in Turkey and the middle east.
We get to the apartment. It’s in a nice area. The décor is funky, reminding me of my grandmother’s place in Sheffield. Very old lady lace with chachkis and appliances from the 70’s. The woman from the rental agency is there and wants the first month and the agency fee before signing the contract. I don’t have enough cash with me, so Ivica takes me on another jaunt to the bank, to get cash in Kunas; then across the way to a money changer to convert them into Euros. Euros turn out to be a prestige currency in Croatia and most big ticket items are paid for that way. After all is settled, I sign papers and get keys and everyone leaves, but not before Ivica arranges to meet at 8:30 that evening on the Riva (the central waterfront promenade).
When the time comes we go to a bar, where we meet two other professors, Nikola and Igor, both of whom, like Ivica, have strong but not perfect English. After beers, we proceed to a club – a favored venue, I come to understand, because it has no cover charge. The band is jazz, though the posters on the wall mark the Ramones, Sex Pistols, and Blondy as more typical tastes. Up to my third or fourth beer, with only an hour’s sleep to my name over the last thirty four, I am running on only novelty and shock. The band is good, but when they finished, I am sorely ready to head home.
Ivica, my long time email only colleague meets me. I have been wondering what he looks like for a more than a year. Stories are that all Croatians are tall, stylish and good looking. He gets only two out of three as he is my height. With a shaved head, strong features and sunglasses, he is perhaps ten years younger than me. He brought a car, so we are off quickly on a reasonably modern four lane road to town. The architecture as we drive is haphazard. Ivica explains that for years there was no process/enforcement for getting permits, so people built a lot of random ugly houses, often with an unfinished quality about them like I’ve seen in Turkey and the middle east.
We get to the apartment. It’s in a nice area. The décor is funky, reminding me of my grandmother’s place in Sheffield. Very old lady lace with chachkis and appliances from the 70’s. The woman from the rental agency is there and wants the first month and the agency fee before signing the contract. I don’t have enough cash with me, so Ivica takes me on another jaunt to the bank, to get cash in Kunas; then across the way to a money changer to convert them into Euros. Euros turn out to be a prestige currency in Croatia and most big ticket items are paid for that way. After all is settled, I sign papers and get keys and everyone leaves, but not before Ivica arranges to meet at 8:30 that evening on the Riva (the central waterfront promenade).
When the time comes we go to a bar, where we meet two other professors, Nikola and Igor, both of whom, like Ivica, have strong but not perfect English. After beers, we proceed to a club – a favored venue, I come to understand, because it has no cover charge. The band is jazz, though the posters on the wall mark the Ramones, Sex Pistols, and Blondy as more typical tastes. Up to my third or fourth beer, with only an hour’s sleep to my name over the last thirty four, I am running on only novelty and shock. The band is good, but when they finished, I am sorely ready to head home.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Getting Ready
Yuck! Getting ready is awful. Look at our house:
Well, okay, that thing in the middle is our fort, but still...
Well, okay, that thing in the middle is our fort, but still...
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