No Regrets!

We got to Plitvice Lakes National Park in late afternoon, with enough time to hike through about half the park. The skies were cloudy, which made this particular hike a lot more tolerable than they have been.

Scenery is beautiful. Lakes and waterfalls everywhere.

I did not get a good sleep that night, due to cats screaming at each other outside and a Polish guy coughing his Polish guts out in the room next door.

The next morning, the shining sun made all the colors dazzle and gave the park new life. A few of us, the most active ones in our group, explored together, walking up and down nice-looking and bouncy but poorly marked wooden boardwalks that fill the park.

On the ferry back to the park entrance, a little Norwegian boy became infatuated with me, crawling on me and laughing and smiling. He posed just long enough for a selfie.

When it was time to catch the bus out of Plitvice, two of the English girls were stranded in the park, delaying things slightly and making everyone a bit nervous that we might miss the bus. But they made it, and we’re now on the road to Split.

I’ve got the front seat in the bus, right behind the driver. He is in cushy seat with sweet suspension that eliminates all the bumps and dips in the road. Must be the smoothest ride ever. I’m envious. The view out giant glass windshield is tremendous. Mountains have abruptly given way to ocean, and we have now turned south to drive along the coast. We are on our way to Split.

After sneering silently for two hours, the driver has come alive now that he has picked up a dozen young female backpackers and surrounded himself with them at the front of the bus. All of a sudden, he is friendly and funny and his English has improved substantially.

We’re making frequent stops at gas stations for snacks and toilets. I’ve become quite fond of Corny bars, chewy granola snacks in a variety of delightful flavors. Ever notice how people who work at gas stations in other countries are presentable, regular people? Back home, you’d be stigmatized by friends if you worked in a gas station. In other parts of the world, it’s just another job.