A few weeks ago Carolyn and I were wandering off in the woods of the Soline Forest again near Pula and ran smack into a little boy of about 6 years-old and his mom. The boy ran right up to us and proclaimed something excitedly in Croatian and showed us a fist full of a green plant he had collected.
“Do you speak English?” we said to them. “Govorim Hrvastki!” (I speak Croatian!) the little boy said enthusiastically and ran off back in the woods to grab some more of the plant he carried. His mom laughed with us and said, “A little.” It always surprises me when someone says they speak “a little” English here because they always seem to be able to converse with us pretty well. They certainly know more English than we know Croatian.
Anyway, what the little boy was running around exuberantly collecting was wild asparagus which grows around the Croatian countryside during early spring. It apparently is a delicacy here and widely sought after like the truffles are in the fall. Croatians have been scouring the countryside for these little spears called “šparoge” for many centuries. They believe the plants have medicinal properties, and of course, with all of the vitamins and antioxidants packed in the asparagus, they have nutritional ones as well.
This little boy and his mom proceeded to show us what to look for in the brush to locate the small spears that were just bursting forth from the established plants. They are a lot thinner than the ones we are used to eating in the U.S. and apparently there are plenty to go around. The next thing we know, thanks to the young mom and her son, we were spotting them on our own.
I brought one with me to show Mike and James who were waiting for us at a local cafe while we explored. The waiter saw I had an asparagus in my hand and told us proudly he had just collected a large amount of them in Premantura the previous weekend and told us where to go to find our own. Much bigger than the one I had found, he said. I love it that the local people are so free with information about their area. Unfortunately, we never were able to go wild asparagus hunting in the woods in Premantura, but the next week I found them in the local market and bought a large bunch for about 25 kunas (~$4 USD).
The lady above sold them to me and told me the small spears are good in omelettes, with pasta, in salads or just on their own with Istrian olive oil. I made a pasta dish with the delicate shoots and they were really good, a little more pungent than the bigger ones we are used to, but I can definitely see their appeal. And the fact you can just go pick them on a pleasant day in spring for free makes them even more appealing.
Here is the dish I cooked with them for our dinner. It was very good, except that I didn’t do a very good job of taking off the bottom part of the stalk which was a little woody, so there were some left over stems on our plates. Whoops. Next time I’ll know better.
Living in such a fertile area like the Istrian Peninsula makes it easy to eat by the growing seasons. Having read the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver who discusses her family’s experience of a year of eating only locally-sourced food had inspired my book club and I to attempt to do it in New Orleans at one point, but it was a little difficult. I can see it would be a lot easier to do in a place like Istria where the neighborhoods are surrounded by olive groves and vineyards, and fig trees and other fruit trees grow like weeds around every corner.
Our neighbor’s trellis here in Pješčana Uvala hung heavy with a multitude of kiwi last October when we we visited, and I can’t wait till those bad boys are in season here. Right now it’s also strawberry season, so I’ve been scooping them up at the market, too. What can you forage for in the area surrounding your home? Could you live by eating just what is produced in your area by the season?
On the day after Easter Sunday our landlord Edvard told us there was a festival we should consider attending. The week before we had been away from Croatia traveling in Denmark, then had returned home and gone sightseeing around Croatia with our guests from Hungary, so I guess we were more than a little tired. Actually, we were quite exhausted. (But if you are like my daughter, Sarah, you are not really feeling too sorry for me right now.)
Anyway, Edvard mentioned two things about this festival that peaked our interest: one was that it was centered around Istrian wine and another was the setting of the festival was a small medieval village called Gračišće, which is surrounded by vineyards and boasts panoramic views of the Učka mountain range and the Julian Alps of Slovenia.
The price to enter the 25th annual Festival of Wine 2018 was a mere 10 euro ($12 USD) and with that fee, you received: a wine glass with a little bag to carry the glass around your neck, a wine guide with each maker and their offerings, and a plethora of wines around the village to sample. Since I used to work the wine tastings at the Wine Market in Slidell, Louisiana, with my lovely friends Michelle and Doug Reker, I thought it might be interesting to taste some of the local wines we had been encountering in the stores in Croatia.
The entrance ticket to the festival allows you to sample all of the 251 wines from 82 winemakers in the Istrian region. Quite the bargain! (Or quite the hangover if you are ambitious enough to try them all!) Festival goers walk in and out the medieval buildings to sample the delicious Istrian wine offerings. Delicious local food was offered for sale as well.
Considering that over 10,000 visitors were expected to attend the festival, we thought it would be a great chance to immerse ourself in the local culture.
The visitors were said to be primarily from Croatia, Slovenia, Austria and Italy. We can attest to the fact that there were few if any other Americans there. Carload after carload of people pulled up to the little mountain town which had men in fluorescent colored vests directing traffic onto large fields on the outskirts of the city which served as parking areas for the festival guests.
Many of them were local Croatians from nearby cities and villages, but not all as we found out.
At one point Carolyn accidentally bumped into a petite leather clad Italian biker who was very chic-looking with her jet black hair and carrying her shiny black helmet. The alleys through the town were quite small and crowded, and by this time, we had sampled quite a few wines. Still, the woman gave her an unnecessary scowl and said rather sharply, “Tranquillo!!” (Calm down!). Carolyn apologized profusely (her and I were both already “tranquillo”), but she was perplexed as to what exactly she had done to receive the wrath of the biker lady. Luckily, none of us spoke Italian, so we’ll never know. So yes, we met at least one Italian.
Other than that, the crowd seemed like it was mostly Croatians, and besides the encounter with the biker, everyone we met was extremely friendly. A little pushy sometimes to get to the wine counters (aren’t we all?), but friendly none the less. Below is a picture of the inside of the amazing little medieval cottages the crowds flowed in and out of to get their wine samples.
And here is a photo of a very friendly girl who posed for us while pouring Carolyn a wine sample. She said that not too many people from the USA normally attended the festival.
The most amazing thing about the festival had to be that thousands of people were walking around a village that had been there for centuries with many of the buildings almost like they were 500 years ago. In the photo below, festival goers stroll around St. Mary’s Church which was built in 1425! I found a fascinating blog called “Istria Outside My Window,” which tells the whole history of the town and its buildings for those who are interested in reading more about this beautiful little village. There is even a post from the blog about St. Mary’s Church.
One of my favorite things about the festival besides the old medieval buildings and churches were the locals playing music throughout the streets. One band came strolling through the streets like a second line band in New Orleans and made me feel right at home.
Other musicians stood in the alleyways and on doorsteps and belted out Croatian folk music. For some of the songs, the crowd would join in singing. Even the younger generation was carrying on the tradition as we saw a very young trio of musicians playing the traditional instruments and songs surrounded by younger couples waltzing around the group. However, this accordion player on the right in the bottom photos won the prize. He played straight from his heart.
I interrupt this series of posts to announce we have just had our first official visit from the Croatian policija. Yes, you heard right. We were woken up early this morning with a knock on our door from our landlord Edvard. Since we were still in bed because we both had insomnia the night before, we jumped up and Mike ran to the door. It was almost 8 a.m.
“The policija are here,” Edvard said apologetically. “They are downstairs waiting for you.”
Bleary-eyed and disheveled, we hurriedly got dressed. I donned a baseball cap to hide my bedhead, and we both ran down the four flights of steps to our landlords apartment.
Sitting on a chair with a notebook in her hand was the cutest policewoman I think I have ever seen. She looked like she was about 25 years old and had a ponytail sticking out from behind her official police cap. She looked like she was playing police because she was so unlike the image of what I had imagined the Croatian police would look like.
Carolyn and James were already sitting on the sofa talking with her. I took a deep breath and sat down.
The police visit is just one of the steps the Croatian government takes to approve your visa for a one-year stay. They do it to insure you are living at the place you say you are living at, and it makes sense if you think about it. Still, it is a little unnerving because you know they have the power to reject your stay and at this point we have invested a lot of time and money by prepaying our year’s rent and moving here. We really want to stay.
So we answered a few questions the police woman asked and that was that. She told us we would receive a card in the mail in a few weeks and we were finished. I think the whole interview process took less than five minutes. So for now we will wait for our cards in the mail and see what happens.
April 9, 2018
8:30 am: We are sitting in the Policija station waiting for our number to be called. On Friday we received word through the mail ( “a blue envelope” is what Edvard called it) that there was a problem with our health insurance submission for our visa application, so we are at the police station waiting our turn. It is our second time at the police station since we arrived. The first time was to apply for our visa.
Edvard is singing, “Stranci in the night,” to the tune of “Strangers in the Night.” “Stranci” means strangers or foreigners in Croatian. “Stranci” is what it says at the counter where we need to talk someone about our visa. He is trying to break the tension because he knows we are nervous. He is being very silly. It works. I can’t stop laughing.
Finally our number is called, but the person we need to speak to is not available. We will have to come back at 2 p.m.
2 p.m.: We are back at the station waiting for the person we need to speak to. Edvard is back as well, and we feel bad that we have taken more time out of his day to be our intermediary. He is a not only a very conscientious landlord, but a busy real estate broker who speaks three or four languages. We hate to waste his time. Ten minutes after 2 p.m. a lady says it will be five more minutes. A half an hour later, we are called into the office. We are learning about Croatian time, Edvard jokes, although he is always very punctual.
As we make our way into the small office, the lady tells Edvard curtly he is not needed, and he can wait outside if we have any questions. I swallow hard. I know she speaks English, but it is broken and these are complicated discussions. And our Croatian is abysmal. Still, Edvard is ushered outside as we sit down and wait to hear what the issue is with our visa.
She then tells us our insurance from home is not valid here. We insist that our insurance company said it was. She explains, then reads us rules and tells us to sign things. They are in Croatian. I ask her some questions because she doesn’t say why our insurance isn’t valid. She appears to get agitated after explaining a few times, although she is not really answering the questions I ask. “Do I understand?” she says impatiently. “Yes,” I say, but I don’t really. Mike says he understands as well, but he doesn’t either.
Mike says he understands as well, but he doesn’t either.
We are then told we need to visit the Croatian Health Insurance office to speak with them. So we need to go there. That we understand. Why we need to go there is another matter. We have no idea. At this point we think they might approve our health insurance or maybe we need to get their health insurance. And she gives us her telephone number to give to Edvard if we have any questions for her (go figure!) and we are on our way.
April 10, 2018
3 p.m. We are on our way to the Croatian Health Care System office with Edvard. Mike and I are arguing over whether we should get Edvard to call the lady at the police department before we head to the office or after. Edvard laughs and says the woman is always right, so we are on our way to the office.
Passing through the streets of Pula, I am again struck by its beauty. Its thick wooden shutters with peeling paint on pale plastered buildings with terra cotta roofs. The rustic iron gates and the olive trees that line the driveways. The hilly terrain and deep green grass that contrasts with the dark rust soil that makes the area so fertile.
The imposing Roman Arch of Sergi that rises above the limestone streets and alleyways. The fact that we have have a chance to live in such an ancient and beautiful city is a dream come true. Will that be in jeopardy today because of health insurance?
We arrive at the office, and I’m very nervous. Edvard is joking as usual, and Mike and I feel fortunate that we have such an interesting and humorous advocate here in Croatia. We enter the building and Mike decides he should call the lady at the police station before we go into the office. We stand in a cold, dark hallway. Edvard points at a door and says, “This is us,” he says. “See, it says here, ‘complications (komplikacije).’ That’s what we have, “complications,” he laughs. I immediately think that is the office we are supposed to go into.
Then he calls the police station. He launches into a long and what sounds like a very heated discussion with the lady from the police station. He is very loud and paces up and down the cold hallway. I am freezing and thinking that she must be telling him we are not approved for our visa and have to go home. This conversation seems to go on forever. Yes, komplikacije alright.
Finally he is off the phone. He is aggravated and says we are probably going to have to enroll in the Croatian Healthcare System. Plus we will have to pay a large fee to enter the system, about 5500 kunas (around $900 USD) per person. The entrance fee is a little steep, I’ll admit, but what will it cost per month after we enroll? That’s why we are at this office, he says.
So we pass up the door with the “Komplikacije” sign and enter another set of double doors. Edvard is aggravated more on our behalf, and he begins to talk to the ladies at the healthcare system office. Again a series of Croatian sentences I don’t understand and it sounds very heated like before. Back and forth it goes. Edvard argues endlessly with the ladies, and Mike and I just stand there like American statues. The words are flying around like the seagulls around our apartment. Are we getting kicked out? Is it going to be a million kunas? What is going on?
Finally, they stop and explain that yes, we have to sign up for Croatian health care and it is 5500 kunas per person. The cost per month for both of us to have complete care for both doctor’s visits, prescriptions and hospitalization is…drumroll, please….A million kunas? Ten thousand kunas? Nope, 1000 kunas or about $170 per month. For both of us. Sigh, I think we can do that.
So while it is not the best news that we will have to pay for additional insurance, we will be covered completely for any emergencies in Croatia. And we have still have our insurance in the US for when we return home. I asked Edvard how much his insurance costs as a Croatian citizen: a whopping $150 per year. So he was furious that we would have to pay such a high “penalty” (that’s what he called the fee) for staying in the country for a year. I’m sure it would be higher and more difficult for “stranci” to get insurance in our country.
Oh, and I found out what the office was that Edvard was pointing to that said, “Komplikacije.” It was for Croatian Pregnancy Complications and Maternal and Parental Care. I guess we should have realized that when we saw a Croatian father push a stroller into the office.
Let’s hope our visa is approved and there are no more “complications.” The best lesson through all of this as well as through life itself is to maintain your sense of humor. It’s the best medicine for “komplikacije.”
If you grow up in New Orleans, I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase “making groceries” from someone in your family. For those who live in other parts of the country or the world, the term doesn’t mean a person is going to physically produce some edible product on the spot, but that you are going to the grocery store to buy something to eat.
The phrase comes from “faire le marchè” ( The literal translation is “to make the market”) which New Orleanians took from our Louisiana French heritage and transformed to “making groceries.”
Although we have only been living in Croatia a few short weeks so far, we have already been “making groceries” by going to many different grocery stores and outdoor food markets in order to stock our new Croatian pantry. We’ve been to the Konzum, Plodine, Market Grga (all Croatian grocery chains), Lidl (a German chain), and to the “tržnica” or fresh produce market in the center of Pula. We also been to several small corner groceries for a fresh loaf of bread or a quick snack.
” Na tržnicu, na tržnicu, prodati debelu svinju… ” –To market, to market, to sell a fat pig…
Two things I’ve noticed right away (besides everything being in Croatian which is more confusing than you might imagine!) are that 1) the Croatians eat a lot of pasta and 2) they also love a huge variety of ham and pork. For example, there is literally one whole aisle of pasta in the Konzum and it’s long and it’s full of delicious variations of pasta on both sides. They’ve got your fazoli, pljukanci, fusilli, your vermicelli, your tagliatelle con spinach, and many, many, many more that I can’t pronounce. Oh, and that’s just the dry pasta.
Pastazara pasta sells a variety of delicious pasta. (photo by Carolyn Stewart)
Croatian brand of pasta know as Starske Delicije. (photo by Carolyn Stewart)
Fioli brand of pasta is made in Croatia. (photo by Carolyn Stewart)
Another variation of the pasta available in Pula. (photo by Carolyn Stewart)
There is also fresh pasta in the refrigerated case. Of course there is. The Fioli brand on the shelf above is a Croatian brand, and the price of 9.99 kunas looks expensive, but is only about $1.45 USD, so it’s very reasonable price-wise for delicious local pasta. So if you like pasta, you will love it here.
For those thinking pasta is an Italian thing, it is. However, besides being very close to Italy (about a 1 1/2 hour car ride), the Istrian peninsula (which includes Pula) was once a part of Italy, so it makes sense that the cuisine would be similar.
Pasta, anyone? (photo by Carolyn Stewart)
More pasta (photo by Carolyn Stewart)
The second thing that is very obvious in the grocery stores is the ham (including pršut which we know by the name prosciutto) and other dried and cured meats like salami and sausages. Whole aisles and cases of it with people lined up to the deli counter to buy it.
I got a little intimidated by the girl behind the deli counter when ordering my slices of ham in the Grga (don’t ask me how to pronounce it) and accidentally wound up getting the most delicious smoked ham for our sandwiches. Combined with the slices of freshly sliced gouda cheese and the fresh Croatian bread, Mike and I felt like we were eating gourmet sandwiches for lunch. I’ll do another post on the making of the pršut because it is a very big deal here (They have contests for it like we do for our boiled crawfish and chili), but for now, just know there are multitudes of different salamis, hams, sausages and cured meats, and they are very delicious.
The deli counter below is a popular place for people ordering ham and cheese and sausages, although it was pretty slow mid-morning on a weekday when the photo was taken.
Besides ham and pasta, the grocery stores all have fresh bread counters similar to those we have in the states. The difference, however is there are no breads on the shelves like our Bunny Bread and Nature’s Own brands. The Croatians, like those in many other European countries, eat only fresh baked bread which is prepared daily and has a very short shelf life because of the lack of preservatives.
Since it is so good, it doesn’t need a long shelf life because you eat it so fast! And it is addictive. I remember my Hungarian foreign exchange student Dorka saying how much she missed the bread from home while she was in the US. It’s easy to see why when you get used to eating fresh bread daily. Lucky I am walking so much here as I gobbled up a loaf of the bread below in a couple of days (with Mike’s help, of course).
There are many other things besides fresh breads that I found that were interesting at the grocery stores. The wafers below were available on the baking aisle for filling. Think soft serve ice cream cones and that is the type of wafer available. (Thanks, Marlene, for the suggestion of filling them with Nutella. I will try that soon.) Oh, the possibilities!
Wafers for making cookies and desserts.
A different assortment of baking products in the Konzum.
I have already found some other favorite products that I really love here that are not available in the U.S., but since this post is getting long, I will start another one for those items. Also, the tžnica or fresh market has a whole different assortment of vegetables and products from the grocery stores. The people seem to use the fresh market just as much as the grocery, so I will dedicate still another post to the magic of those markets another day. Thanks for sharing in my adventures “making groceries” the Croatian way. Vidimo se kasnije! (See you later!)
The weather’s been on and off around the Pula area the past few weeks with rain and cold days interspersed with beautiful sunny days that hint of the warm weather to come. On one sunny morning Carolyn and I decided to go explore the area that surrounds our new home. Our apartment is in a neighborhood called Pješčana Uvala which means “sandy cove” in English. It sits next to the Soline Forest Park, a protected forest of holm or holly oaks, that skirts the shores of the Adriatic. These holm oaks are a native species in the Mediterranean and are one of the top three trees used in the establishment of truffle orchards. They also produce edible acorns that wild pigs like to eat.
So you didn’t sign up to this blog for a natural science lesson, right? The reason I’m giving you this information is that our landlord had just been telling us the evening before that the forest next to us had a lot of wild pigs and not to go out at night into the forest as they could be aggressive, but he said during the day was fine. In fact, Soline Park has a well-marked path throughout the forest with educational kiosks for families with kids, so I don’t think it is a dangerous place to go. Still knowing about the overabundance of wild pigs did get our attention, especially coming from South Louisiana where my two brothers-in-law are always relaying tales of wild pigs in the marshes and how mad they get when you encounter them with their babies.
As we walked along the trail beside the beautiful clear Adriatic waters, we noticed in a few places the mud looked stirred up like something had been rooting through it. The path went deeper into the forest and got a little darker as the vegetation got thicker and areas of the stirred up mud got more frequent. We joked that these wild pigs must be everywhere.
Being the adventurous women that we are, we saw a path up the hill that was filled with limestone rocks and was wider, almost like a small road, so we decided to climb up it to get a view of the whole area. The holm oak forest sits on Soline Hill.
As we ascended the hill, we saw old abandoned houses and huge rosemary bushes in bloom and were marveling at the abandoned beauty of the trail when we heard something strange. A buzzing sound. Not just a little buzzing though. A loud buzzing. I looked at Carolyn perplexed. “Do you hear that?” I said. Her eyes got wide and she said, “Yes, what is it?” We walked a little further and we came upon this sight.
So what does an old truck in the middle of nowhere have to do with the buzzing sound? Take a closer look.
It’s a truck full of bee hives!
Besides olive oil, wine, and truffles, Croatia is also known for its honey or “med” as it is called in Croatian. As luck would have it, we had stumbled upon a mobile apiary out in the middle of the Soline Forest area alive with a huge number of bees buzzing around it. The early blooming rosemary plants are one of the places you can find honeybees this early in the season in Croatia. So the rosemary bushes we had passed in the area may have been the reason the apiary was sitting there buzzing with hundreds of honeybees. There is even a rosemary honey that is sold in Croatia, so I am interested in tasting it now.
But you are probably wondering why I made such a big deal about the wild pigs at this point. What about the pigs?
As we began to walk past the mobile apiary and take a picture of the view from the top of the hill I looked down and saw hoof prints. Hoof prints from wild pigs. Walking a little further we came upon some brush and heard a low, deep growling sound. Whatever it was growling, it wasn’t happy with us. And it wasn’t a dog growling, I know what that sounds like. At this point, I have to admit, I was a little scared. I’m pretty sure Carolyn was, too. So we took off walking very fast back down the hill until we met up with the regular park path. We didn’t wait to see if it was a wild mama pig, or a wild daddy pig for that matter. We had had enough excitement for one day.
On our first day walking around the city of Pula we wandered through the ancient streets in awe. It’s not just a beautiful city, but a historic one as well. According to one source, archeological remains show evidence that the city of Pula goes back from 400,000 to a million years B.C. That’s pretty old, especially by U.S. standards. One of the first things that strikes you when you drive into town is the Pula Arena, one of the best preserved Roman Amphitheaters in the world that was built in the first century B.C.
Its imposing presence stands above modern day streets and buildings, and the fact that you can drive your car using Google Maps on your iPhone in front of a place where ancient Roman gladiators fought to the death is a pretty surreal experience. Not to mention that the ancient arena holds concerts for its citizens’ enjoyment throughout the year.
If any city had a reason to have a good opinion of itself, it was Pula, which is the largest city on the Istrian Peninsula. Ancient history, incredible wine, delicious olive oil, rich soil that produces a multitude of beautiful fruits and vegetables, and it’s surrounded by crystal clear waters and boasts a temperate climate. Think California with Roman roots and better beaches.
Imagine our surprise when we stopped into a store in the city center and a Croatian lady approached us with a young boy around five or six to ask if he could talk to us. Why? Because he loved America and loved speaking English. Sure, we said, we would love to talk with him. He was quite the little gentleman, and he said hello and answered all of our questions politely and without any traces of a Croatian accent. If only we could speak Croatian so well, we told him. Besides saying hello, goodbye, where is the bathroom and thank you, we hadn’t been very prolific with our use of Croatian, but wanted to learn more.
We were pleasantly surprised that our first encounter out and about city center had been so positive. Carolyn and I talked for a while with the young mother and learned that the little boy had learned a lot of what he knew from American television.
Earlier in the week we had gone grocery shopping at Konzum and got some things for our apartment at a German version of Home Depot called Bauhaus, and all of the Croatian cashiers had been very friendly and nice, so we knew the people were kind and receptive to foreign guests. In fact, one cashier even told me, “Bravo!” when I said, “dovidenja,” which means “good-bye.” I was so proud that she could actually understand me. When people are that encouraging, it makes you want to learn more.
And it hasn’t just been the cashiers that have been kind to us in our short time here. Waiters, waitresses, store clerks, and even people on the street have gone out of their way to help us. One day my stomach was upset, and I went into a grocery store for Tums and the cashier pointed me towards a “ljekarna,” or pharmacy, as they don’t sell any types of drugs, even non-prescription ones, in the grocery. I walked out of the grocery, still disoriented from jet lag and trying to find my way in a new city, and totally forgot which way she had told me to go. I felt a tap on the shoulder and an older lady who had stood behind me in the grocery line said, “You go that way,” and pointed to the left. “Hvala,” I replied (thanks!) feeling fortunate that someone had been paying attention.
When people are that encouraging, it makes you want to learn more.
When I got to the pharmacy I was in for another surprise; everything was behind the counter except for a few items like vitamins and lotions. So I go up to the counter and ask in English for something like Tums or Rolaids for an upset stomach. The pharmacist was very sympathetic and gave me an option of Tums or something more potent like Prilosec. It was strange, but I felt comforted by her advice and concern. It’s the little things like that when you are far from home and not feeling well.
Yesterday we went back to the city center and were having lunch when a woman with a little girl sat at the table next to us with her elderly parents. She looked over and started talking to us and when she realized we were Americans, she told her daughter excitedly, “These people are from the place where Cookie Monster lives!” The little girl smiled shyly. She was only five, but her mother said she spoke better in English than she did in Croatian. We couldn’t tell because she was too shy to speak to us, although she did take off her jacket and show us her cute butterfly dress.
Anyway we are glad to be living in a city where the people are friendly and kind like the people we left behind in Southern Louisiana. And we are glad they like Americans because we definitely like them and their beautiful city.
As we walked along the cobblestone sidewalks of Rome, I became obsessed with the massive and unique doors that faced the centuries-old streets. Some were brown and heavy with brass knockers; some were heavy black iron; some painted, peeling, and solid, while some were newly varnished and clean. One thing that they all had in common was that they made passersby curious as to what was behind them, and most importantly, who the many people were that had walked through their entrances throughout the years.
The doors became a symbol for me of our new adventure in Croatia and the difference sizes and shapes made me think of the choices that are available to us in our lives. Time and again, we try to open doors that are closed to us, and we hope the right one will open when we want it to.
So as we left Rome inspired and motivated to find a place to lay our weary heads for a year in Europe, I wondered what doors would open ahead for us in Croatia.
Follow your bliss and don’t be afraid, and doors will open where you didn’t know they were going to be.” ― Joseph Campbell.
We took the train from Rome all the way to Trieste, Italy on our journey to Croatia. We were met by our friends James and Carolyn Stewart, who had arrived ahead of us in Rovinj, Croatia, and they drove us through the mountain roads filled with olive groves and vineyards.
When we made the decision to live abroad for a year, we found we had kindred spirits in our friends James and Carolyn, who at the same point in their lives were planning to move to Europe for a few years. They had been to Croatia the year before and had decided that Rovinj might be ideal for our plans if we could find an apartment to rent.
For those who don’t know where Croatia is, think of the boot of Italy on a map and hop across the Adriatic Sea and the coast along it is part of Croatia. We were looking for an apartment on the Istrian Peninsula which is up around the upper part of the back of the boot. (See map below.)
Rovinj is quaint town on the Istrian Peninsula and is a magnet for many Europeans during the summer season because of its clear blue waters and limestone lined streets. While this makes it an incredible vacation spot, it also made it difficult for us to find someone to rent us apartments on a yearly basis, as most just offered vacation rentals. And the few we did find wanted a price that was beyond our modest budget.
Our second choice, Pula, although a larger city had advantages because of its airport and railway station for easy access to European destinations. Mike and I had already been in contact with a man named Edvard from Pula, who was tired of the constant influx of people with vacation rentals and was looking for long-term renters.
It was a match made in heaven; he liked us because we were “old” and probably not late night partiers, lol, and we loved the apartments and their proximity to the beach and marina (a 3-minute walk down the street). Plus, like many of the Croatians we have met, he was just a really nice person. We stayed in the apartments for a few nights and put down our deposit on the spot.