Split

Split’s market had an array of fruits, vegetables, cheeses and cured meats to choose from, and all a mere 5 minute walk away from our apartment. We gorged ourselves on the sweetest plums, pomegranates, dried figs and dried cranberries.

Lunch was at an unassuming little bar just next to the fish market that served the best fried seafood. We walked through the Diocletian Palace’s basements and were greeted with the pretty tableau of a cat bathed by yellow light next to an old fountain. He was pretty unfazed by all the attention he got. The rest of the palace complex has been swallowed up by the old town. People now live in and amongst the palace old rooms, and intermingled between new buildings are ancient 4th century remnants. There was so much original artwork being sold in the stalls, I wanted to buy so many. But I restrained myself to one and it’s now propped up in my bookshelf at home.

A short walk up a hill on the edge of town rewarded us with this view of Split. An interesting character greeted us on the way down. An old Croatian man with a walking stick, speaking perfect English with nary an accent. He was recovering from knee surgery and doing some gentle exercise. Past occupation? A reconnaissance agent in the Bosnian-Croatian war, working undercover in Bosnia. He regaled us with stories of his exploits in the war and what really went on at ground level that led to Croatian victory. Such a charming man and so obviously well read.

The next day we chilled out at the waterfront with iced coffees and hopped onto the ferry that took us to Hvar island.

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