Split & Brela

Fuck parking in Croatia 

We'd had five gloriously relaxing days in the cat campsite outside Split. Within five minutes on the road, I'd already shouted my lungs out onto the dashboard in anger at another road user, and in the 15 minutes it took to drive from the campsite to the centre of Split, we experienced at least four more examples of what I will just call 'special Croatian driving'. And I mean that in the most disparaging way possible.

The driving in the baltics and Poland wasn't great, but at least they drove like they knew other cars existed. In this part of Croatia they drove like we literally weren't there; cutting us up, never indicating etc. Whenever we needed to slip into the flow of traffic from a slip road, nobody would let us in. At one point, we found ourselves running out of slip road and having to come across, but the guy to our left made absolutely no effort whatsoever to make room; he just kept on a course to plough into us. I mean, it's not as if it's hard to see us. We're in a 3 tonne, 7m long van for fucks sake. When we were forced to slow to a near halt to let him by, I saw that the guy was on his phone at the wheel, which made steam pour out of my ears.

We couldn't wait to park up. Not only to start exploring Split, but to get away from the nightmare we were having on the roads. Unfortunately, we found it difficult to find anywhere to put the van near the centre. Over the course of the past 6 months, we really haven't done too badly when it comes to finding places to park, but on occasion it can be tough. Especially in Croatia, where they really don't seem to like motorhomes off-gridding.

We eventually found a car park just north of the old town, but the fun and games were just beginning.

Rach started reversing the van into a space next to a truck. She hadn't taken too much care in it, as the initial plan was to get out of the way of the car waiting behind, then we could square the van up nicely next to the truck when the coast was clear. However, instead of just driving on past us, the car behind stopped right in front, blocking us from completing the parking manoeuvre. The oldish driver of the car (he was about 60) then started manically gesturing at us to park closer to the truck. We tried to signal that we understood, but that we obviously needed him to drive past before we could do anything about it, but the man continued to just sit there, furiously gesticulating.

I'd had enough of this shit. After the unrelenting road wankery we'd just endured from the natives, I was not in the mood to put up with this bizarre, nazi-level monitoring of our parking from a total stranger. I got out and walked over to the car, opened the passenger door, told him we understood, then slammed the door shut much harder than was necessary. As I turned away to start directing Rach into the space, I heard revving and wheels spinning on the gravel.

The bloke sped the 15 feet into the space to our right and shot out of his car. He stormed over and started yelling Croatian at me, then gave me a shove. He then shouted over to Rach, something along the lines of 'xcasdsaf odfomogrgf dlpwkezxzx CRAZY' while pointing in my direction. My Lord, was this guy protective of his precious door. I pointlessly told the man to mind his own business, to which he pointlessly shouted a response back in Croatian, then he got in his car and buggered off. He fucking drove off. He wasn't even waiting to park next to us! I thought that might at least be why the old git was so invested.

I hold my hands up - I shouldn't have slammed his door, but what the hell did any of this have to do with him? Why would a random stranger ever stop their car to complain to someone that they hadn't parked exactly to their liking... before that person had even finished parking?!

All of this upset Rach to the extent that she didn't want to leave the van in the car park, in case the guy turned out to be the Don of some local firm and sent his boys back to wire up an explosive to the van while we were gone for the day (not her words). Come to think of it, the guy was wearing a black leather coat and aviator sunglasses (sharp), and I subsequently saw at least four other men of a similar age wearing similar clobber, so maybe that wasn't such a stretch.

After driving around for another half hour and failing to find a different spot we decided to just go back to the first place. I credit Rach's calming down during this period to her eating a sandwich.

Well, the morning had been bollocks, so we were hoping Split would make up for it.

Split

It did, and then some. What a town! For a start, it's older than God's dog. There are Roman buildings and ruins strewn everywhere, and it was a real pleasure walking through the narrow stone streets, which pass under ancient archways, walls and giant pillars. Rach pointed out how shiny the streets were. Shiny and old, like God's car. We had a look inside the magnificent Diocletian's Palace, built in 305AD, and sat on the harbour front watching tiny birds steal bread from the pigeons, who were also being stalked by the local cats. In the evening we enjoyed drinks at the bar-lined harbour-front, which is much more buzzing than you'd expect it to be in January.

Split was definitely our favourite Croatian city so far. Although we hadn't been to Dubrovnik yet…

When we got back in the evening the van was free of any explosive devices, which was nice, so we settled down for the night. The foam which makes up our bed can be hard to get comfortable on sometimes. Especially lying on your side. As we lay there trying to get to sleep on our last evening in Split, Rach came up with a solution - ''I wish my arms didn't exist at night.''

Brela

We left Split thinking that Dubrovnik would be our next destination. It was, in fact, a little place called Brela. It was a spur of the moment thing. We saw the place signposted on route D8, which reminded me that I'd seen pictures of it on Instagram and it looked amazing, so we turned off. It feels great coming across these places without actually planning it.

We were driving the van into an area prohibited for motorhomes according to another road sign, but I convinced Rach to ignore that and carry on another couple of minutes to a place we could park - ''Can we please just ignore one rule for once?!'' were my exact words. Rach really is Mrs Sensible at times (usually before she's had a drink) which is great - we all need a Mr or Mrs Sensible - but on this occasion I was glad I got my way, otherwise we would've missed out on Brela.

Brela is famous for its beach. In 2004 it was voted in the world's top 10 by Forbes. We walked along it until we got to the famous 'Symbol of Brela', then sat on the beach and watched the sunset. Rach had a paddle and I tried to throw a pebble into a crack. A crack in a rock, that is.

We ended up spending that night a few miles further along, in an empty parking lot right on the sea. We had a couple of Hugo's in a nearby bar and watched some handball (seems quite big over here) on the TV. It was Croatia versus Norway, which was fitting as we had recently been trying to decide which of those two countries we liked best. Norway ended up winning by a whisker - in both competitions. That's no shame on Croatia; it really is right up there with the best places we've been, especially on the coast.

The local veg was pissing us off though. We kept cracking out what we'd bought and finding it was bad; mouldy garlic, squidgy onions... didn't seem to matter whether we got it from supermarkets or little shops.

Road to Dubrovnik

On the coastal road to Dubrovnik it actually felt a bit like we were back in Norway. It was very similar scenery, as the roads wound round huge rocky mountains draped in whispy cloud. The van had to struggle up some of the hills, which was another thing that brought me back to our time in Norway - specifically the time we wrongly thought the engine was failing because we hadn't realised we were actually driving up a fairly steep incline. It seems like the grander the scenery, the harder it is to tell.

Again, it was very difficult to find somewhere to park up for the night near Dubrovnik. We ended up having to drive up ANOTHER mountain to get a spot overlooking the city of Dubrovnik.

Man, it was worth it. We marvelled at the giant cluster of red roofs/rooves which made up the city below, as the sun beamed down through the clouds onto the sea in the distance. It really was a stunning view. We discovered that there's usually a cable car which runs up and down from the mountain top to the city but it was closed for the winter, so we decided to spend the night in the van, then try and find a campsite the next day in order to visit the city.

We fixed the drooping storage cupboard at the back of the van with some L brackets we bought off a very friendly chap at a DIY store, then went for a shit together in some twin portaloos we found at the base of a nearby observatory tower.

Recommended park up for Dubrovnik:

http://park4night.com/lieu/72538