Get on Your Bikes and Ride
New Stories from Croatia
In this blog article we enjoy Croatia's
spectacular landscapes in the mountains, along the coastal road and in the green Neretva Delta, make (too) many wildlife encounters and start to get comfortable with wild camping. And we talk about ants…! Enjoy the ride errr… I mean read!
Table of Contents
- New Acquaintances and Important Preparations
- With a New Route Comes a New Chance
- A Night at the Fish Pond
- Into the Wild
- A Wild Day
- Holiday Feeling in Croatia’s Highlands
- Encounters and Stories
- The Traces of War
- August or April!?
- Croatia’s Most Idyllic Camp
- Ants
- Back in Tourist-ania
- An Alien in Croatia
- Spa for the Bikes
- A Night by the Road
- The Reward for the Suffering
- Eurovelo 8
- A Fitting Farewell
New Acquaintances and Important Preparations
Two weeks of relaxing in Sweden are now over and the hot Croatian air blows in our faces as we leave the air-conditioned plane at Rijeka airport around midday. Thanks to Joel’s convincing manner, we manage to hitch a ride back to the hostel with another passenger. Leonard comes from Kranj in Slovenia (we actually cycled past the town a few weeks ago) and works in crypto-currency trade. We listen intently to the stories about his profession, it is something I know absolutely nothing about!
The next day we do some important shopping – new flip flops and a shirt for Joel, new shorts for me and finally we find a McDonalds and have an iced coffee! For weeks now we have been seeing huge advertisement posters everywhere in Croatia with delicious looking iced coffees, but with no McDonalds to be seen !
Yes, even as a bikepacker you still fall victim to advertising!
With a New Route Comes a New Chance
The first day on the bikes is tough for us. After the culture shock of Sweden, we have to get used to cycling again, both mentally and physically. Fortunately it is not as hot anymore as when we left Croatia two weeks prior, instead it is very windy. Most of the cyclists we had met had warned us about the busy coastal road, so we decide to cycle through Croatia’s outback and thus avoid most of the coast.
We will not cross this so-called Eurovelo 8 cycle route again until we reach Split, where we hope that with the end of the holiday season it will be a little less busy. By the way: Since we left Slovenia, according to komoot, we are constantly on cycle paths – in reality, however, we will not see a single signposted cycle path in the whole of Croatia. The day holds many metres of altitude in store for us, as the city of Rijeka is at sea level.
A Night at the Fish Pond
We are very surprised to find rivers and lakes in the Croatian mountains! After covering around 800 metres of altitude in pure wasteland, we can hardly believe our eyes when we arrive in a green oasis! We are at Lokve Lake, a large body of water currently filled with yellowish algae. In the distance we see two campervans standing near the water; we make our way through the bushes and find a kind of fishing spot on the shore of the lake with several small bays and a car park where we find the campervans again. Unfortunately, we don’t get to talk to the French campers, as they pretend to be asleep as soon as we pass. As I said, wild camping is forbidden in Croatia and we must look a lot like undercover investigators…?!
We walk a little further through the woods and find a deserted bay. It is perfect! The water is muddy and full of bushy algae, so swimming is not on the agenda. Instead, I build a shower out of a plastic bag and we also have enough water to do the washing up after dinner! Fortunately, it’s a lot cooler up here than in Rijeka.
Into the Wild
Over the next few days we really enjoy cycling, mainly because we have the majority of altitude behind us. I still don’t understand why people ride up and down mountains in their free time, just for fun – without a set goal – for us, our bikes are still a means of transport above all else. And the best motivation: to get further, we have to go over this hill anyway – I can grumble, but it won’t help – it’s too late to turn back now.
And we start camping in the nature more often: There is a lot of space here in the mountains and hardly any tourists. Once we pitch our tent at the dead end of a dirt road above a motorway, once on a fallow field at the edge of a forest. We don’t sleep well when wild camping – every crack in the branches wakes us up – which is good, because we don’t want to be surprised by bears or wolves. Fortunately, we don’t make any such acquaintance. But since we save a lot of money on wild camping, we often treat ourselves to a coffee in a small bar the morning after and relax for a while (usually too long!) before we go on.
A Wild Day
Anyone attuned with nature like we are must naturally expect animal encounters of all kinds: One day we even make the acquaintance of four different classes of animals: It starts first thing in the morning with a tick (arachnid) having a good time under my right armpit. The first one on our trip, which is actually almost a miracle! We have a so-called tick card, but the critter is (still) so small that we cannot remove it. We use the tried and tested trick from my time in the emergency room (once again, thumbs up for ER nurses Kerstin and Beate!): Slowly circling around the tick with a cotton swab. Since we don’t have any cotton swabs on us either, a hair clip has to suffice. And indeed: a little later the tick comes off by itself.
When I get out of the tent, our wild encounters continue: it had rained during the night and a toad the size of my hand (amphibian) had sought shelter under Joel’s helmet. The toad seems to like it in our awning, so much that it only reluctantly moves as we shoo it away with a few gentle nudges with the helmet.
Around noon we ride on a deserted road through a hilly landscape. We are just going downhill when a huge dog (mammal), almost as big as my bicycle, appears on the roadside to my right. First it just looks at us, then it starts barking and runs not only next to my bike but also in front of it, blocking my way. I don’t have much experience with dogs, but this one looks really upset and dangerously angry. We don’t really know what to do. “Ride faster!!!” shouts Joel. Unfortunately not an option – the dog keeps blocking my way. When it finally comes dangerously close to my lower left leg, I yell at it, but all I can think of at the moment is, “Nooo!!!! Nooo!!!” The dog actually pauses for a brief moment in the presence of my shrill and panicked voice, then keeps on chasing me. But the screaming saves us in another way: Apparently the dog’s owner heard me, because the dog is whistled back from a property on our left some distance away. We keep on pedaling like hell – it feels like an eternity has passed while in fact the whole event took less than a minute.
What irony: I have read up how to deal with bears, wild boars and wolves, but we have no idea how to handle feral- or guard dogs (note: after riding through the Balkans, we are professionals by now!).
To round off the day, in the evening a fat cricket (insect) climbs up the tent poles between the inner and outer tent and starts chirping deafeningly. “Dream on”, Joel hisses at the cricket and flicks it off the tent.
Holiday Feeling in Croatia's Highlands
In Ogulin we treat ourselves to a night on a campsite. It is the main holiday season now, so the camp is busy with camper vans but there is a special lawn just for tents and we have it all to ourselves. A few hundred meters away there is a large, winding lake that almost reminds us a little of the Scottish Highlands. We relax in the swings at the beach bar and enjoy our beer. In the evening, the blood coloured moon shines over the camp – sorry for the lousy pictures, I still have to practice moon photography!
Encounters and Stories
We pass a small village with a railway station. Meaning one track and a small conductor’s hut. Surely there are no more than two trains a day. The conductor himself also doesn’t look particularly busy. He stops us, laughing and waving, and gives us a huge plastic bag full of mirabelles he has just collected. Typical me is highly suspicious at first and suspects that the conductor wants to sell us the mirabelles at an outrageous tourist price. But my people skills have never been the best – through sign language we find out that he not only wants to give us this bag full of fruit he has collected out of boredom, but also wants to show us his little cabin in the station. In the small, dark room we feel as if we have been transported to another age: heavy cigarette smoke fills the air and on the small desk there is an old cable telephone and a radio set. The only thing missing is a typewriter! At a small sink, the elderly man lets us fill up our water bottles. And then we even witness him at work when a rusty passenger train actually stops in the small village!
In many places we pass, cheese and homemade honey are offered at the roadside. Unfortunately, I can’t persuade Joel to buy anything here (what do we need cheese for? It’ll be bad tomorrow anyway!). In a bigger town we stop at Lidl and people ask us curiously what we are doing with these bicycles and children wave at us.
We also meet Bartul, a cyclist from Split who is cycling back home. We spontaneously have a beer together. He tells us that he has just come from the mountains, where it even hailed during the night, and that he himself travelled through South America by bike a few years ago. And that his relationship broke up because of it. He also warns us: “As long as you are in Europe, everything is safe. But when you go further and it gets really tough, with food shortages, street violence and wild animals… that’s when a normal argument can get out of hand.” Joel and me look at each other and grin.
The Traces of War
More and more often we ride past completely abandoned villages and houses with bullet holes – traces of the Yugoslavian wars three decades ago. As far as I recall, we talked non-stop about World War I and II in my History class at school. In contrast, neither Joel nor I really know anything about the Yugoslav Wars. “We need to know more”, we decide after Bartul gives us his opinion on Serbian-Croatian relations and we are unable to place a lot of the mentioned geographic locations. We watch the BBC documentary The Death of Yugoslavia to understand the complex history a bit better (the docu-series was made before the Kosovo war, so certain information is not shown – further docu-tips are always welcome!).
Near Medak on the way towards Zadar, we find ourselves in a deserted area with a lot of empty ruins. To our right, a mountain ridge separates us from the sea and we are in search of a place to sleep. The few properties to our right and left are surrounded by big stretches of land. A few hundred metres away we see a car moving in front of a property. We turn off the main road onto a gravel path and are very lucky – we cross paths with the very same car! The driver rolls down the window and asks us what we are looking for here. That comes in handy – a place to sleep! We briefly outline our story for the family sitting in the car. The man behind the wheel owns the house at the end of the road and he and his family are just on their way back to the capital Zagreb, having spent a night here, their second home. After a short hesitation, he allows us to camp in his garden and we are very happy to be able to prepare our dinner in peace.
August or April!?
The following day, Croatia has a few surprises in store for us: As usual the day starts with a rather steep incline on a busy main road with a dangerously sloping hillside to our right. When we reach the top of the hill we can hardly believe our eyes: We are completely surprised when we cross the saddle of Crnora and suddenly see the world lying at our feet on the other side: A magnificent scenery stretches out in front of us: patchy light-green and rust-red overgrown slopes slowly taper off towards the sea in the distance. A piece of untouched nature that impresses almost in an alien-futuristic way. We don’t have long to admire the view, because it starts to rain.
The omens had been there: The sky had been gradually darkening since the morning. After the hard climb, we are actually happy to cool down on this muggy day and initially continue downhill without rain jackets. But after a few minutes it cools down noticeably and the wind does the rest, so we exchange our wet T-shirts for rain jackets. Arriving at the foot of the mountain, it is now raining so hard that it is difficult to see, our socks are soaking wet and our shoes are filling with water. The ground is littered with huge puddles. And just when we think it can’t get any heavier, the Croatian sky steps it up a notch. It’s bucketing it down, although blue skies are already appearing above our heads. We scream and laugh at the tremendous noise of the rain splashing on the asphalt, then we notice the perfect rainbow behind us. We squint into the sun while we still feel like we’re under the world’s biggest shower. And then, all of a sudden, it stops. Ten minutes later it’s just as hot as before the downpour. Luckily, with the exception of our shoes, we are dry again in no time. Only the large puddles on the otherwise shimmering asphalt are a reminder of the past storm. Crazy weather.
Croatia's Most Idyllic Camp
A few wild boar warning signs (not even joking!) and hours later we reach our destination for this evening: the Novigradsko Sea, a bay connected to the Adriatic only by the narrow strait of Maslenica. We had discovered the spot via the park4night website and we don’t seem to be the only ones here – in the sparse pine grove next to the small country road we are riding along, we spot a few caravans and a motorcyclist. For good reason: it’s a great spot right next to a small deserted bay. We jump into the pleasantly cool and crystal-clear water, then it’s time for dinner.
Just as we have pitched the tent in the twilight, we hear the soft chugging of an approaching motorboat and blink in the bright light. I panic for a moment: That must be a police boat searching the beach for wild campers!!! But it’s a false alarm: Just a fishing boat. Joel is probably right: Who cares about two cyclists who set up their tent at dusk and disappear again early in the morning?
Ants
I remember that my biology A-level exam was about ants. I can’t recall the exact exam question, but I think it was about pheromones, the messenger substances that ants secrete and perceive to perform seemingly impossible tasks as a team. On our journey, we had often been surprised about ants living in hostile environments without any rain and in places without vegetation.
As soon as a crumb of our lunch, often burek (pastry made out of filo dough filled with spinach or cheese), falls to the ground, the little insects are on the spot.
Sometimes they take chunks of dough or cheese twice their size with them. Joel and I often watch the hustle and bustle with great curiosity. How do the ants know about this food source? They must have a damn good sense of smell… and right now, I am wondering precisely the same thing as I climb unsuspectingly out of the tent that morning. With growing displeasure I inspect the line of ants snaking along a long blade of grass over my saddle bag on the bike into my backpack through a small slit in the zip to the bag of sweeties. Even days later, I find the little creepy-crawlies in my backpack. According to Wikipedia, a single ant that is separated from its colony survives on average about 6 days, and probably several weeks in association. Since the only purpose of a worker ant is to serve the colony, the ant will try to find its colony again using pheromones. If it is unsuccessful – which is likely given the 60-80 km we travel every day – it will die trying. So I have probably (unfortunately) a few ants’ deaths to answer for…
Back in Tourist-ania
Over the next few days we experience the beauty of Croatia near the Krka National Park. We skip the park itself, as the €30 entrance fee per person is unfortunately beyond our daily budget. Unfortunately? In retrospect, we are quite happy to have skipped the park: We cycle through the small tourist town of Skradin, which is well-kept and has many small alleys with picturesque cafés and shops, but is virtually overrun with tourists. We feel out of place, especially when we stop at the bus station to buy provisions in a supermarket. Drunken and half-naked tourists stagger out of buses everywhere, just returning from Krka National Park. Even when an American tourist approaches us with the words: “Wow, it’s so cool what you’re doing!” (without even knowing what we are doing), this does not save the situation for us. We feel relieved when we leave the tourist masses behind. The campsite a few hills away is all the nicer for it and we get a shady spot under a roof of wild vines for little money, so we stay for two days. And also because of the temperature, which is currently over 36 degrees – the camp has a wonderful pool!
An Alien in Croatia
We are cycling towards Split. In the middle of nowhere, surrounded by sandy fields and withered vegetation, a few green patches of olive trees and vineyards in between, we see a topless bikepacker with a red face. After less than a sentence it is clear: This has to be an Englishman! The first English bikepacker we have met. Sam is on the way to Split just like us and together it is much easier to master the upcoming mountain! After a breakneck but breathtaking descent, during which Sam loses his Cappy (told you mate, you should have worn your helmet!), we decide to pitch our tents on a campsite on the island of Trogir just outside Split. Before we prepare our speciality for hot days – couscous salad with goat cheese, parsley, beans and vegetables – we go swimming and drink a beer (of course)! When it gets dark, we chat and enjoy the starry sky with shooting stars flying by every minute.
Spa for the Bikes
After a touristy day in Split, Komoot surprises us with a scenic route along an old Roman road – but we are only briefly impressed by the new angle of the app: Shortly afterwards we are faced with a steep sandy path covered in huge chunks of stone so that we have to push/carry the bikes. Shortly after (we survived!) our bikes get a general overhaul at the Decathlon Store: A new chain for Joel’s bike and I finally get new grips to soothe my irritated ulnar nerve (spoiler: it worked!), plus Teflon oil, chain elements and everything else a bike needs to be happy. Joel doesn’t miss out either: in the canteen opposite he gets what is probably the biggest cappuccino since the beginning of our trip!
A Night by the Road
Once again we leave the coast to drive into the Omiŝ gorge. We are looking to set up camp somewhere on the banks of the river Cetina. As far as we can plan ahead using Google Maps, there seems to be several possibilities in this area. In reality, however, the densely overgrown bank is privatised by rafting companies at every clearing that would be suitable for camping. After an unsuccessful search, we continue to follow the road. It moves away from the river and goes up the mountain in serpentines. We know that time is short to find a place to spend the night, it is already late and we are tired. The slope next to the road immediately drops steeply, there is not enough space for a tent.
Finally, we find a trail that leads off the road towards a relatively flat plateau in the forest – a dead end. We are only about 15 metres from the road and decide to cook before setting up the tent in twilight. We prepare a mushroom curry with rice, which takes forever (who could have guessed…) and by the time the tent is pitched and we have eaten, it is already dark. Doing the washing up with our headlamps turns out to be more difficult than expected, because paranoid as we are, we switch off our lamps every time a car approaches. And this happens every minute or two (where do all these people come from all of a sudden!?). At night I wake up to the sound of cracking branches near our tent – A bear? A wild boar? I listen into the darkness, but hear nothing more. Probably just a hedgehog.
The Reward for the Suffering
The next day, while we continue to pedal up the serpentines, the view of the 1500 m high mountain peaks surrounding us resembles the Alps more than what one imagines of a holiday in Croatia. That changes at noon: we cross a mountain ridge and now have the fantastic view over the ultramarine blue sea – this is how we had actually imagined cycling through Croatia! At the upcoming viewpoint we are not the only ones – cars and motorbikes from Italy, Germany and Slovenia are parked at the site. But man, none of these people have the same feeling of absolute bliss at this view. After having pedalled our way up here with our own muscle power, we are blown away.
Eurovelo 8
From now on we are cycling on the international cycling route Eurovelo 8, on Croatia’s coastal road. However, to call the main road a cycle path would really be an exaggeration. There is not even a hard shoulder, let alone any kind of cycle signage. The traffic situation requires a high degree of concentration from us, but when the road slowly empties towards evening, it was all worth it. A rainbow even comes out!
A Fitting Farewell
Shortly before the end of our journey through Croatia, the scenery changes once again: we enter the fertile Neretva Delta, where suddenly everything is green again, plantations of watermelons, peaches and citrus fruits surround us, fruit vendors sell their products at spectacular stalls along the roadside.
We stay two nights at the “Good-Energy-Camp”, a small family run campsite that has probably seen better days. As the only guests however, we enjoy peace and quiet all day while we plan the next few days. The owner, a somewhat reserved man, in his senior years, who funnily enough looks a lot like his little poodle, even gives us half a watermelon.
What exactly caused it – this very watermelon, one of the numerous mosquito bites or the canned green beans tasting strangely bitter – cannot, in retrospect, be determined; in any case, I wake up at 5 a.m. with nausea, which develops into vomiting, diarrhoea and a severe fever in the course of the morning. But even this does not stop us from continuing our journey across the border into the neighbouring country of Bosnia, which we were eagerly awaiting.
More Impressions
Cracking read Jana and love the pics
Aidan