The yearly pilgrimage to Dalmatia continued unabated again this year, as I sought the holy waters of the Adriatic Sea to cleanse my spirit, a tradition I have kept over the past ten years. This year’s itinerary included a handful of days in Split, a return to the island of Vis, where I last visited six years ago, and a new, more remote island destination for me, Lastovo.
Part of this plan is an intention to discover new reasons to continue returning to Croatia each year, as my friends here are dwindling, and so too are my reasons to return, amid the adoption of the Euro, post-COVID inflation, the joining of Schengen, rising tourist numbers, and increasing rental prices. These sacred waters have soothed me for ten years, but it might be time to pursue other horizons.
While in Split, I tried to keep up with acquaintances. My friends David and Marketa, who will soon move to the Czech Republic to raise their first child. They hosted me for dinner, and Marketa made her world-famous Bún bò Nam Bộ. Really must learn this recipe because very soon I will not have the ability to eat it :((
I invited David, Marketa, and other Split friends to share a traditional Croatian dish, octopus peka (cooked in a Sač). I also saw Tamara and her son, Samuel Reid, my friend, Ivana, and Dado and Tina, my two other friends from Split. Somehow, I didn’t manage to get a photo as I must have been too focused on the octopus. It is shameful to admit that on this night, I returned to eating it again (see Nine Months in the Maldives as context for my previous abstinence).
The week Marce and I spent on Vis passed comfortably and quickly, as we spent our time swimming and lounging on the beach until 1 PM, when it was time to start the workday (aligned to US business hours). It felt as though Marce and I were roleplaying the lives of those old, retired women who surrounded us, who appeared to be doing the same each day, and without the obligation to return home to work from their laptops in the afternoon. Having tested their retired Dalmatian lifestyle, I can say it suits me. I think I could be an old Croatian woman someday.
The island of Vis feels underappreciated, given the (increasing) throngs of summer tourists that visit Croatia each year. I’m writing this as more of a reminder to myself not to take my own doom and gloom about recent changes (see first paragraph) too seriously; there are wonderful places all around Croatia to return to, and there will be for another two thousand years.
We rented a scooter to drive to the other side of the island for lunch and to visit two beaches there. Accessible and effortless experiences that would be jam-packed with vacationers in many other parts of the world.
When we arrived, the island of Lastovo felt like an uninhabited retirement community compared to Vis and Split, which turned out to be exactly what made it great. There was accessible sea access below the apartment I had rented, which was well-suited for sunbathing and swimming. A single restaurant within walking distance had a surprisingly complete and delicious menu that we enjoyed the nights we didn’t cook. A corner store ten minutes’ walk away had any food we wanted to cook. Each morning, we walked to a coffee shop opposite the ferry port for iced coffee alongside the locals.
Our favorite local on Lastovo was an old man who seemed to be about 90 years old, whom we enjoyed seeing around town each day. His name now escapes me as I write this two months later. To our delight, he would appear each morning to eat ice cream at the same cafe we took our morning coffee. It seemed as though he was eating ice cream for breakfast at the cafe every morning.
We introduced ourselves, and when he understood that Marce was Chilean, he spoke Spanish to us and told us that he had sailed to Chile while working on a ship. His wife was dead, and he lived alone on Lastovo — presumably, enjoying his retirement, eating ice cream for breakfast each day, and being very cool. Marce made sure to tell me that this man’s Spanish is better than mine. I suppose we should all have role models to aspire to. I managed to find my role model, a retired woman on Lastovo, who eats ice cream and charms Latinas at age 90.
