Croatia - June 11

Jet lag seemed to have set in as I woke up at 4am to the sound of some neighbors arguing and couldn’t go back to sleep.

When Heidi poked her head into my room at 6:30, it was time to get up and take a cold shower because Heidi turned off the hot water heater by mistake the previous night. Thrilling.

We made our way back to D16 for coffee and croissants and that’s when I saw him. My husband. While I waited in line to place our order I snuck a picture to show Heidi and Krista. They were not impressed. And Heidi’s order of “huge americano with milk” did not come with milk. And the man who delivered it was quite put off by her request. I did some research about it. According to my Google search, “While the coffee traditionalists may say adding milk spoils the authentic taste of an Americano, people do it all the time and it's acceptable.” Tell that to the barista who never brought her milk.

On our way to some kind of park that Heidi said we would only go to the beginning of, the smell of a fish market drew my companions and me (reluctantly) inside. We bought some anchovies “prima classe” from an adorable raspy voiced old woman who told us we could put them on sandwiches, salads, pizza, etc.

Attempting to exchange dollars to kuna, the 17.5% commission was not worth it and Heidi said nevermind and to exchange her “dollars for dollars,” leaving the exchanger very angry at us.

Heidi tricked us into walking all the way in to Šuma Marjan park after all by saying “let’s just keep going” after each little lookout. The further up we went, I said “it smells like a zoo.” And that’s because there was in fact a zoo. Goats I think.

Heidi refused to let me photograph her by an old church so I had Krista take one of me, but then I captured her from afar, looking like an apparition that haunts the park.

She convinced us to climb to Telegrin Peak and after it was over, I was grateful for the exercise.

We checked out of the Airbnb and had a late breakfast at Ciri Biri Bela, which was just down the hill and apparently the best place to get breakfast in Split.

I was very concerned that we wouldn’t be able to bring our luggage to the restaurant and Heidi said we shouldn’t call and ask. As it turned out, almost everyone there was storing their luggage in the office where the boss sits.

Many of the items we requested, mostly fruits, were unavailable. The elderflower lemonade was in stock and was delightful to my tastebuds but both Heidi and Krista said it tasted like Robitussin. When I expressed interest in the Men’s Health which consists of Pršut (smoked ham), kulen (spicy sausage from Slavonia), pečenica (smoked pork filet), pancetta, kobasica (homemade salami), Croatian style homemade cheese with homemade bread, butter and two organic eggs, Heidi scoffed at me. And then when I actually ordered it, the waitress questioned, “men’s health?” To which I answered affirmatively. I pleaded with Heidi to help me eat it if it was too much. But when it arrived it was glorious. Basically just a charcuterie board, which I said I could eat for breakfast lunch and dinner any day (In the days to come, I would live to regret those words).

Krista’s New York meets Split bagel which was baked “by a real New York guy!” did not come out at the same time as the other foods and the waitress told her that it was “on the road.” When it finally arrived, it made quite a mess of Krista as she attempted to consume it.

I also found another potential husband my friends disapproved of. They said he was too short. But the secret photos I captured show him bending over and acting like a goblin, so they didn’t get a proper look and can’t be trusted.

Husband #2 pictured grabbing a bag, while Krista wipes her nose.

Though the restaurant said we could store our bags there while we killed time awaiting our ride out of Split, we didn’t feel comfortable leaving all our belongings in plain sight. So we hunted for a luggage storage place. Heidi said there was one across the street from our Airbnb so we dragged everything up the hill but discovered Heidi was mistaken. The storage place was back down the hill. And it was closed. The one that was open took all three of us to find despite using GPS and tells me that we might all have some work to do before attempting The Amazing Race.

We exchanged our dollars to kuna at a much better rate than the woman from the day before and headed to Diocletian’s palace. Apparently some scenes from Game of Thrones were filmed here. We saw several men in armor pretending to be from the show. I think you could pay them to “sword fight” with you. No thanks.

We were the last patrons to purchase tickets to go inside the mausoleum and bell tower before it closed. When we got to the entrance, the attendant gave me a sack and said to cover my “shoulders.” So while Krista and Heidi also have shoulders, we realized he meant my cleavage.

The mausoleum was fine but it’s not really my jam so we didn’t spend too much time in there, plus I didn’t feel like wearing that sack of shame. So we climbed to the bell tower, up 180 steps, some of which were very steep and in a very narrow passageway. Afterward we made our way precariously back down and found some ruins.

I was slathered in sunscreen and though not burning, it felt like I was being eviscerated by the sun.

After paying to use a public bathroom, we made a little stop so I could buy a dice made of onyx. Die? I suddenly don’t know which is plural and which is singular.

To keep from passing out, we snagged some iced tea from a shop and downed it before just making it in time to the pickup spot (back up the hill!) to meet our driver so we could head to our boat and according to Heidi, “start our vacation.”

In the van I started to get cold from the blasting A/C and put my sack of shame back on, which Heidi says I wasn’t supposed to keep and that I committed sacrilege.

At the marina Heidi got curried away in a golf cart to find out where our boat was.

When she returned she said she had to “ask a hundred people” to find our boat and then she basically led us from the seven levels of the Candy Cane Forest to the Sea of Swirly Twirly Gumdrops to get there. Actually just past a dump, through a restaurant, and into the charter office.

Our catamaran skipper and hostess bounded in to introduce themselves with such enthusiasm that it made me nervous. Matej and Matea (pronounced MAH-tay and Mah-TAY-uh), who I felt like wanted to make out with me. In hindsight, it was probably me that wanted to make out with them.

While Heidi worked out the financial details with the staunch woman at the desk, Krista and I felt like little kids waiting for their mom to do the boring stuff. After she finished Krista looked up and said, “What’s Heidi holding?” She appeared to be holding a briefcase of paperwork. Such a grownup.

We walked down the gangway. Is that what it’s called? The boardwalk? to the boat. Anyway, once on board the Excellence, we went over some logistics and soon discovered that some of the provisions we ordered had not arrived. A bit of chaos ensued when trying to contact the food service company. This gave us a chance to chat with our hostess, Matea, and get more comfortable with M&M, mostly figuring out who was who and how to pronounce their names.

Hunger came over us and we broke out some snacks. Sardines, pickled white fish, salmon roe, bread, cheese, jam, grapes and cherries.

As we were putting away our things in our rooms, Matej reminded us not to eat the cherry pits because it ruins the septic system if we poo them out. Who. Is. Eating. Cherry. Pits?? He says it happens more often than you would think.

Roaming about the boat while it is moving is not advisable. I am more prone to seasickness than I originally thought. So I went up top to join Krista and Heidi as they lounged on the cushions on the foredeck.

Krista’s Dramamine kicked in and put her right to sleep so Heidi and I gossiped and joked that we might have to do a little Weekend at Bernie’s-ing with Krista if she ends up being medicated the whole week.

We anchored in some kind of alcove for free at the Lonely Paradise restaurant in exchange for eating our dinner there. Our waiter, Boris, picked us up in a small boat (which I now know is called a dingy) to taxi us to shore and showed us to our table with a magical view. The fish of the night was presented, which we named Daria because according to our waiter it was a woman, “of course.” While the chef was cooking it, we were invited to visit the kitchen and take some pictures of her.

After returning to our table, I took a sip of my wine when something hard touched my mouth. It was a moth. In. My. Wine. Absolutely not. Thankfully, Boris brought me new wine. Later he offered us an aperitivo which we accepted. It was a shot. And he took one with us. Woah. Then Krista and Heidi made me drink all the rest of the wine by myself (this later becomes a trend). I hoped all this alcohol would put me to sleep and let me stay that way until beyond 4am this time.

Matej gave us a sprig of lavender on the ride back to the big boat. So sweet.

Showered and unpacked, I went above deck to marvel at the serene view before retiring to my quarters.