Wednesday, September 16, 2020

Baška Voda

Saturday 17th September 1983

When we “awoke” at about 07:30 hrs. we were greeted by dark thunderous clouds and torrential rain. We got up, scratching and itching and delayed our departure for as long as possible. We set out during a lull and splashed out of Zadar, fittingly shrouded in rain and murk. We drove through the pissing rain for ages before stopping for a nasty strong sweet black coffee and a Pepsi Cola just passed Šibenik (which is a historic city in Croatia, located in central Dalmatia where the river Krka flows into the Adriatic Sea).

The rain had stopped but just restarted as we left the café and went from strength to strength. We were soon soaked through and squinted to see the road ahead through misty glasses. The scenery disappeared in the deluge but our spirits were high and we sang as we went. Just after Split, the second-largest city of Croatia, we pulled of the road to a Tourist Buro to try and get some more petrol coupons. It was closed but we bought a few chocolate bars in the supermarket and decided to go all out for the Youth Hostel at Baška (pronounced Bashka) Voda on the “Makarska Rivijera”.

Stopping only for a quick coffee when George’s bike packed up at some traffic lights, we made good time through the torrents of river and large rocks pouring down across the winding coastal road. We were forced to slow down behind a convoy of cars crawling along in the treacherous flood. Cloud obscured our vision and we were saturated, but our merry mood continued. We got into town and spent about half an hour find the best hidden Youth Hostel yet. It looks quite good though and we have a dormitory to ourselves. Again there is no electricity due to government restriction whereby it has to remain off from 14:00 to 23:00 hrs.

After a palaver at the Tourist Buro we got more petrol coupons. George then discovered that he had lost his towel and washing kit, including his anti-malaria tablets and water purifiers. We walked into town but he could only replace a toothbrush. I had a shower in the dark and put on some welcome clean clothes before joining George at the hostel bar. We had a couple of Pepsi Colas and chatted with the Dutch pair that had been dogging our heels through Punat and Zadar. They were touring on 500cc motorbikes but only seemed to cover the same ground as us each day.

We walked into the town of Baška Voda which is a small village and port only 9km north of Makarska and just south of Brela in former Yugoslavia. It's an easy day trip from Split, but it's also a wonderful holiday destination in its own right. Once a humble fishing village, Baška Voda’s beaches, pine woods and lovely setting have made it a favourite for seaside tourism. We got caught in the pissing rain again and ran back to the hostel to find the lights were on in our dorm. We read for a while and settled down to a great night’s sleep with no insects! The wind crashed about outside as I tucked into a horrid supper of cold fat and beans from a tin.

Bike reads 15,174 miles

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