Up with the sunlight sneaking through the gap between the bedroom and a casual glance to my phone reveals the time as 647am. Ugh! I close my eyes and a whole 8 minutes I decide I’ve had enough so to the shower I go. I had prepared for breakfast today last night by purchasing a couple of rolls from the supermarket but perhaps that was a mistake as what was a crusty roll yesterday had transformed into a very tough but still reasonably tasty roll embellished with some local meats which I’m not overly sure as to what they were but had a similar taste to some Italian and German contemporaries such as Coppa and Speck.
After Breakfast this morning my plan was to have a walk around the Marjan Park which is on the doorstep of my apartment. I am lead to believe that the views are worth the trek that one must undertake to get to the point where the vista is at its most alluring.
My legs are tight from my exertions in the belltower in Trogir so each step takes considerably more effort than usual but I am ever hopeful the view will make up for the unexpected sufferance. I see the vantage point in close proximity so I get a second wind to power towards. I must be doing this walk in the wrong direction as everyone I pass seems to be going down and it’s only me that’s scaling the summit but what goes up must come down so I’m guessing as I turn for home it’ll be all downhill.
I made it to the vantage point where I feel like a kingdom surveying his kingdom in all its glory. There are no words that can truly describe what you see from here especially on a cloudless day like today. Azure skies as far as the eye can see and the large ferries docked in the harbour look like children’s toys bobbing in a giant bath which is the Adriatic. It’s majestically peaceful here with the crickets and birds orchestrating a rich symphony of nature that would Dvorak or Mendelssohn would be proud of and if not BBC Sound Effects library could be an adequate consolation prize.
The Zenith point complete with cross and flag make for a interesting juxtapose between faith and flag. Downhill the tightness of my thighs is evident on the steep uneven path that leads back to Split. It won’t spoil the day still got a few things to mention in more detail on revisits this afternoon.
It was approaching lunch time when I reached the bottom so thought I’d try so local pastries today for my lunch.
Rolani Burek is the first delight on offer which is a pastry filled with meat. Not sure if the Croats ever made it to Cornwall so never really mastered the art of a Pastie or Sausage roll instead what is served up is like if you had asked someone to make a more greasy but somehow lighter spring roll and fill with a kofte kebab. I could see this being popular in Scotland if it was readily available.
On picking the above I was asked if I was wanted spicy or non. Only ever going to be one answer to that question. Spicy! I had no idea what was inside so replied purely on instinct that making it spicy would make instantly more bearable. It’s very doughy and it’s chorizo like meat inside which I guess makes it the spicy option. It’s decent but nothing really to write home about….yet here we are.
Local lore suggests that if you rub this enlarged toe it will bring good luck. Maybe not the best thing to suggest tourists should do given this pandemic but needless to everyone is getting involved with some even kissing the toe!
So who was Grgur Ninski?
He was an interesting fella who was a bishop first and foremost but he was radical and reformist. Not just Bishop but the Archbishop of Split. Ninski was very critical the Catholic Church hierarchy such as the Pope and other circles. He was a strong advocate of the Croatian language being used during religious services to end up then had only been held in Latin which the vast majority of the Croatian people could barely understand. This was very important for the Croatian Language and Culture and made the Christian faith particularly the Catholicism strong in Croatia. The highly echelons of the Vatican were not happy so offered Ninski a move away from Split to which he refused but by c.929 he was given no choice and from there he disappeared from the annuls of history but the services in Split continued in Croatian and soon spread to the rest of the country.
Another day another Cathedral. Split Cathedral or to the locals Sveti Dujam. Do I want to in-of course I do I haven’t had my customary ponderous rumination which these musings have been become accustom to over the last few days. So I am only too willing to examine what lies within the walls of Sveti Dujam.
Ostentatious and Orthodox is the order of the day with even more lavish displays than previous offerings. It’s impressive yet the same sense of bewilderment remains as to why the church needed and indeed still needs these sumptuous artefacts.
With my thighs and calves screaming at me from yesterday in Trogir I begin my ascent on the Belltower which is even higher than Trogir but I’m sure the panoramic views will be worth the agony. Yet again head beats heart (starting to see a theme here) despite the hoots of derision. It’s busy up here with so many people feeling they are entitled so once they’ve seen their view and taken their selfie for Instagram they charge down the steps with little or no consideration for those making the upward journey with even the cheek to check your audacity of being in their way. People are strange animals on the whole quite selfish but too blind to see on the most part. I reach the top with no major issues and the confidence from yesterday still pushing me forward.
I felt I was on the lookout for the Venetians or The Ottomans from times of yore. It was truly spectacular the view.
Going down the stairs was tricky and my overly cautious approach didn’t do much for my legs which were close to wobble but powering through I made it to the bottom.
Where next? Beer next. I decide after that endeavour to treat myself to a well earned beer. I haven’t really found craft beer overly accessible here in bars and my love for that Lemon radlers has probably made for a refreshing change. However I found a Craft Bar called “The Daltonist” as emblazoned on the glass. It was a quirky little place but specialised more in extravagant cocktails but there were a couple of local beers on tap so picked one and hoped for the best.
If like me you are a bit of a beer geek. Follow my beery musings on Untappd link in the social media section in the About Me section. For those interested this is a New England style IPA and on inspection is pretty on point for the style. Aroma is fruity and non of the usual linoleum you get with a lot of the NEIPA clones. Taste is a nice creamy mouthfeel with a gentle caressing bitterness. At 6.1% it’s not really sessionable but enjoyable in smaller measures or a one off beer.
So one beer and an ice cream later I head back to my apartment to get some rest ahead tonight’s dinner. Which I won’t blog about as was very poor and quite obviously frozen food and the restaurant tried to add an Aperol Spritz to my bill. Was like really? You think I would be drinking that and remarkably he redid the bill and it somehow came to the same amount. Ach forget it take it but no tip.
Day 7 my last full day coming up soon