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On a long trip sometimes the days flow into one another and become less distinct. But sometimes you have a day of adventure that distinguishes itself as a landmark experience. Today, on a ten-hour bus trip from Pula, Croatia down to the famous UNESCO city of Split, the views of the Adriatic Sea were consistently mesmerizing for hours. It was one of the most absolutely scenic days I’ve ever spent in my life. My diabetes even behaved all day, until getting into a tussle with a large hamburger in the evening.
Masayo and I had spent New Year’s in Pula at the tip of the Istrian peninsula in northwestern Croatia and had to move on. It was too bad we didn’t get to see anything more of Istria; we’ll have to add it to the list of “near misses” for a later trip.
My blood sugar to begin the day was 131 at 9:00 am. It’s been pretty good in 2015 so far. We had the same breakfast as yesterday thanks to Masayo’s kitchen skills, after which I headed to the bus station near our room at Apartments Ljiljana to check on schedules and tickets. (As usual, we leave everything, including big decisions, until the last possible second. Shrug; things seem to work out one way or another anyway.)
Tickets all the way down to Split were available but cost $62 each. Sigh; what could I do? That was the price, and I bought two. There is no train and we couldn’t arrange a rental car because everything was closed yesterday on New Year’s Day.
So we were facing ten hours on a Croatian bus. I didn’t know if it would be boring, or how I would find food to eat. I hoped my blood sugar would stay good; being inert on a bus for so long is usually a bad thing for blood sugar if you’re not careful.
We checked out and headed to the bus station. This was the first time I’d been out since my daypack zipper broke so I had to put everything I was carrying in my big bag. And my super-light packing approach paid off: even with my daypack contents included, the big bag was still light and small enough to carry without any awkwardness. Maybe I don’t need a daypack at all.
Light travel: it’s not just a preference, it’s a religion.
The bus left at 11:00 am and we were happy to find that it was using small winding coastal roads to the town of Rijeka; it could just as easily have gone further inland and been less scenic. We watched the sun glinting high off the water down below us as we pulled into Rijeka, where we got off the bus and bought some rolls at a Mlinar bakery for the next leg of the trip.
On the bus, there was a bathroom but it was locked, even secured with a hateful-looking little bicycle chain. This has been a constant feature of bus travel in Croatia: nice vehicles and roads, efficient ticketing system, but the bathrooms have all been locked. Not that I’ve been needing them, especially; it’s just weird that one specific country would so consistently feature something as outré as extant but unavailable bus toilets.
Travel shows you the weirdness of the world.
By 1:30 pm as the bus turned south from Rijeka and continued, thankfully, along more coastal roads, I managed to take my eyes off the vast flat water and sunshine outside the window to my right and check my blood sugar: it was 183, not great but not too terrible for such an exciting day. I took some Humalog, through my Bluff Works travel pants leg as usual, and ate the chocolate croissant from Mlinar.
The sun was by now already setting, but it seemed to take hours and hours. The colors began as faint yellows with hints of orange, but gradually grew more intense and darker as we sat transfixed on the heaving and sighing highway bus. Every time we went around another curve and the sea presented itself again we’d both snap a bunch of photos. It was addicting.
As the sky continued growing darker we began to notice that over the land of Croatia, opposite the lowering sun, there was a nearly-full moon over the ricky hills. The road was winding enough that the bus swooped and lurched far enough that we could see both the sun and the moon intermittently. More photos at each curve.
The sun was gone by 5:00 pm and it was finally dark. the day-long sunset show finally over and its audience sated and energized. We stopped at a place called Zadar and a 20-minute break, where Masayo and I bought some dinner for the bus. I got a cheeseburger with fries; they gave us the food in a plastic bag and we climbed back on the dark bus.
My burger turned out to be a lot bigger than I was thinking, about twice the size of, say, a McDonald’s burger. This was going to be tough to shoot up enough Humalog for. (Like the big burger I had in Varaždin the other night.) My BG was a perfect 119 so at least I was starting from a good place; I took a larger shot than usual and tucked in.
I left half the fries, but got nervous about my insulin shot and had a cookie, just in case. This would prove a poor choice.
The bus pulled in to scenic Split a while later, though it was dark and all we could see was night lights and the station. We got our bags from the bus’s storage area and walked the short route I’d memorized through Split’s night streets to the room we booked on booking.com. The place is called Viking House and is an adorable, old-style little apartment on the ground floor in an ancient Roman-looking alleyway in the middle of other, quiet-looking domiciles. It was fantastic, and quite a deal since it was 86% off on booking.com; we reserved three nights here.
Unfortunately I found out after checking in that yet again my dinner shot was inadequate: I was 291, the highest reading of this young year so far. May that be the highest I have all year.
We’ve seen none of Split; all we did after checking in was go buy some cookies and water at a small shop down the street (for breakfast). I took some Humalog for the stupid 291 and we hit the bed. Images of the golden sunset and the stately white moon in the dark blue sky stayed in our heads, and we couldn’t wait to get out and see Split tomorrow. Croatia continues to deliver on all fronts.
Except for bus toilets. I guess you can never have everything.
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