Croatia – Let Luce!

‘Lower your expectations and you’ll never be disappointed.’

I took heed of these wise words as I stepped up onto the bus in the unseasonable heat of the morning, ready for the 4 hour 40 minute journey from Dubrovnik to Split. I had never been on a Croatian bus and so I didn’t know what to expect but the bus was perfectly adequate and met expectations. As I settled in for the long haul with my table down, crochet out, headphones on and Netflix ready, I noted that most passengers were Croatians rather than tourists. None of these locals had lowered their table and unpacked their bus activities and journey snacks. Did they know something that I didn’t?

As we were about to set off – accustomed to the UK and its health and safety – I murmured to my son about putting on my seat belt. He looked around and observed with a wry smile, ‘I think you’ll be the only person on the bus with a seat belt on – even the nun who is sitting in front of us doesn’t have hers on.’ Hearing this, I decided to do as the locals do. If the Croatian nun had sufficient faith in the driver, then so did I and so I let my holiday waistband enjoy the unrestricted freedom.

Approximately forty minutes into the journey, as we coasted along the main road, our tickets were checked. The bus employee slowly made his way from front to back and, upon speaking to the two passengers seated behind us, he soon called down to the driver. In response, the bus was pulled over on the empty roadside and came to a swift halt. As the two young female passengers were instructed to perform the walk of shame down the aisle and dismount the bus, I couldn’t help but wonder on their fate. Even now, I fear hearing an evening news bulletin announcing the discovery of two bodies in roadside shrub as a result of bus fares not being paid. I noted not to put even a single toe out of line whilst in Croatia. I also pondered on why our tickets were checked 40 minutes into the journey and not at the bus station before we left…

Roughly 10 kilometres of our journey took us through Bosnia and Herzegovina and this meant two passport checks within the space of about 30 minutes. As bus passengers, this involved a more lengthy process where we all had to dismount, queue up at the booth, have our passports checked and then get back on the bus.

For the smokers, these passport checks were welcomed minutes of avid inhaling and exhaling as they queued, grateful for the opportunity of a pit-stop puff. As a non-smoker, the wafts of the unsavoury smell of smoke merely polluted my nostrils, however I admit that I was just jealous that shots of coffee were not so readily available at each stop.

Curiously, during the short time we were in Bosnia and Herzegovina, we made an unannounced stop at a roadside kiosk where one single passenger and the bus driver disembarked to make a purchase of cigarettes. I’m not sure why only one passenger was permitted to disembark and make a purchase or whether this was some sort of unscheduled duty-free stop but with my complete lack of Croatian language and with no reaction from my fellow passengers, this was one of those moments in my life where I shall remain in ignorant bliss.

All in all, it was an interesting ride which gave some sort of insight into Croatian custom. Now in Split, desperately searching for my first coffee of the day, I ponder on the curiosities of my bus journey.

With my travels unexpectedly interrupted by the spread of the corona virus, on more than one occasion it has been mentioned by friends and family, “Oh but you must be bored,” or “You poor things not being able to travel.” When I hear this, I find myself having to justify why I don’t feel either boredom or self-pity. I thank them for their concerns with an underlying feeling of guilt because at this point in time, there are far more pressing worries in these ‘COVID-19 times’.

Initially we did have to adjust and accept the fact that we could not continue our travels to Spain, Croatia and then take the planned long road-trip through Italy to Crete. However, it has actually been relatively easy to recalibrate and I am certainly not in a position to be dwelling on my misfortunes of not being able to travel. There are clearly other people on whom to focus: the elderly, the vulnerable, the key workers and how the effect of isolation and inaccessibility to vital resources can be managed.

“Oh, you must be bored?”

Bored? No. It is not worth dwelling on what you can’t do. The best thing is to focus on making the most of the opportunities that are presented by unforeseen circumstances. In this case, I have settled into home-life just loving the fact that I have time to discover new hobbies as well indulging in long-term loves, which I never had time for before or which I was too exhausted to do when my job dominated my life. I can now spend hours at a sewing machine, learning Greek, running an increasing number of kilometres, cooking, yoga, catching up with the classics on audiobooks, chatting to my family and friends, crocheting, thinking about and writing a number of unfinished blogs, reading paperbacks and also e-books on a Kindle, painting doors and walls, growing vegetables and herbs, catching up on TV, listening to podcasts, as well as learning through thoughtfully-selected online OU courses.

“You poor things not being able to travel.”

When people expressed an element of feeling sorry for us for not being able to travel, a sense of awkwardness set in when I considered my current situation. I wasn’t a key worker, I wasn’t a front line NHS worker, and I didn’t have to worry about my job – whether I would lose it or put myself at risk by working. Having already given up work with the plan to travel, no one was expecting me to be anywhere to do anything at any time. So it was easy to adjust to the changes: I was just in a different country than I had intended to be in. I certainly didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. For the time being, travelling has to wait, which it will.

With time at home now available and in an attempt to contribute some sort of worthwhile support in this current lockdown, I signed up to be an NHS volunteer. Once accepted, with much anticipation I prepared to be immediately busy helping others, however no alerts came (or have come) through. Although initially frustrating, I can only assume that the lack of request calls has to be a good thing. So what else could I do to help?

With recent discussion on whether face masks are beneficial or not to help prevent the spread of the virus, I am now busily putting my sewing skills to good use and making these. This was prompted by a request from my brother, who lives in London (with its concentrated number of corona cases) where he asked me if I could make some face masks for him and his family. This has since sparked off further requests so now I am feeling vaguely useful. My contribution maybe small, but it is valuable to some.

None of us planned for these last few weeks and who knows what life will be like over the next few weeks or months. But, cliche to hand, don’t forget that every cloud has a silver lining – you just have to make sure you find it.

Tag: Croatia

Gotta Split

Time Well Spent