Split and Diocletian’s underground palace in southern Croatia

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My first morning in Split, Croatia began with a dream: I was on stage at the 40 Watt in Athens, Georgia, sitting in with R.E.M. on drums. I was playing the cymbals with two butter knives, and the cymbals started to break apart. Bill Berry was there (I don’t know why he wasn’t playing drums) and assured me he wasn’t mad, and was really cool about it. I think they were the 40 Watt’s house drums anyway, actually.

But then I woke up, happy to have hung out with R.E.M. at least in my dreams. My BG was 83, a great way to start a day in warm, sunny Split. Our breakfast of cereal cookies and coffee went quickly, and Masayo and I headed out to explore the town a little. I felt slightly queasy — not too bad, but probably a result of that bus station cheeseburger I’d had for dinner. Might explain the dream too.

The first thing we came across was a large market, with a few stalls selling handbags and watches and stuff, but mostly selling fruit. Masayo bought a bag of fresh figs that were cheap, then we walked to Old Town.

The Roman emperor Diocletian built his palace here in Split, which was how the town started. The walls and many of the old buildings still stand, and that’s why Split is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It was similar to Piran in Slovenia, but bigger and more stately. And more touristy — throngs of people milled around, kids bought animal balloons, and the hundreds of outdoor chairs in front of the waterside cafes were all occupied with sunglasses-wearing sippers.

At 1 pm I checked and was 231. Not good. We each got a slice of cheap pizza for lunch and sat on a wall at the water’s edge to eat, where I also took my shot. Then we went to an underground part of Diocletian’s palace, which is now a largely-empty and still not fully excavated sort of museum. It was really cool; I liked how it was empty and let the visitor imagine life here 1,700 years ago.

Afterwards we wanted to check out the outdoor cafes for ourselves, and the crowds had thinned enough to make that not an ordeal. (I can’t imagine what a pain this place must be in the summertime!) My BG was an anagram of its earlier self — 213. Masayo and I split a pastry and each had a coffee, and I had some more Humalog that I hoped would get me back down to 100 or so.

We then walked around the harbor a little, and the sun was going down which made for some nice photos. But even better was the moon, that started to rise from behind the hills behind town. We spent a lot of time watching the moon over the town and its prominent tower, as it got darker and darker.

We needed to go shopping for our meals the next couple days in the apartment, and before walking into the supermarket I checked my BG to find I was 72. But it felt like it was still falling, and though I quickly ate a Snickers bar I felt a little out of it the whole time in the supermarket. Which is just as well, since the food is all Masayo’s decision and I want no part in the process. I just carry it.

We made it back home, and Masayo made dinner: risotto with seafood, and a pasta soup. I waited until well after dinner to take my shot, even though the carb content was significant — I just still felt low from the 72. But eventually I did take my shot, and I didn’t skimp on it like I would have a few weeks ago. Low feeling or not, I knew what I had eaten and so I dosed for it.

Masayo did some laundry in the washing machine included with this apartment, and was annoyed to find that the lining in her pajama top melted and got little bits of grey clay-looking stuff all over it. So she had to throw it away and wash everything else a second time. This time everything turned out ok. Except she’s going to have to go shopping now for new pajamas. Ah, the obstacles of traveling.

At 11 pm I checked my BG was was victorious: 138! A perfect BG at that time after a meal. I had ended up managing that 72 and the walking and the dinner timing excellent. Another post-dinner victory. Thanks, Split!

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