I’ve been traveling to Split so often, and documenting my visits here each time, that this will be the last time I write a website entry about it; what was once an exciting international destination feels unremarkable after many years of habitual visitation. This was the first time I was able to visit Split during the summer since the pandemic. Being unable to swim in the sea during the past few years has been really, truly difficult. I’m sure it must sound odd that plunging in the Dalmatian sea is a sort of ritualistic, self-baptism that I need to do from time to time. As I am enveloped in the dark water, I feel immediately purged and restored. That initial two-second chill after submersion (the heat escaping my body) is whatever dreadful spirit has accumulated within me, dissipating into nothingness. Being unable to release that from my soul had forced me to carry that extra weight inside me for too long.
This time around my friends David and Marketa invited me to accompany them to the islands of Brač and later to Hvar (follow those links to see photos for each), during their customary island adventures. They also fed me delicious Vietnamese food and supplied me with many goblet-sized gin and tonics (I rang up quite a bar tab that I am still paying down).
Another highlight of my month in Split was the week-long visit of an old friend, Brock, who I first met during my year living in Seattle, Washington in 2006. I had convinced him to come to Split and we spent dinners together in the old town talking politics, football, and work over glasses of prosecco, oysters, and grilled fish. My beloved friend, Mavel, also visited Split on her way south to Greece; it was mice to be able to introduce both Brock and Mavel why I have been returning to Split for so many years. It isn’t often you have the opportunity to demonstrate instead of explain to others the appeal of a place close to your heart.
