Well, perhaps you have a condition...

We had been told early on that the island of Dugi Otok (translated as "Long Island" in English) was one of the most beautiful and least touristed islands of Croatia. Only 1500 people live on the entire island. We saved our visit to Dugi Otok until the end of the Croatia portion of our trip, as a "treat" to ourselves. For two nights we were going to sleep indoors, no tent. We had spent 2 consecutive weeks in a tent. We couldn't wait.

In order to get to Dugi Otok, we had to first travel back to the mainland town of Zadar from the island of Cres, then take a ferry the next morning to Dugi Otok. Our ferry was to arrive in Zadar at 10:45 p.m., and we were told we would have a 5 minute walk to the tourist agency to book a room.

Our port landing did not seem right; no lights, no signs of city life. All the tourists and locals quickly scattered and we were left with one person, looking as bewildered as we felt, and about four cars in the parking lot. I approached the man and asked how far it was to the center of town. "Which town?" he asked, "Here, or Zadar?" I was a little puzzled, as everything had led us to believe (including the text of the ferry schedule) that we were going to Zadar. "Zadar," I replied. "Oh, it is 50 km away." "50!" Ari and I chimed in unison. "No, 15 km. But it is not safe for bikes. Good luck!"

Not sure what to do next, I approached another backpaker. He turned out to be a Croat, and said if we could wait about 5 minutes, his dad would arrive and might be able to help us. Once he arrived, he offered us directions into town, and said we were only about 6 km away. A German woman who was in the parking lot (Germans have always been the most helpful along the way) approached us and informed us that there was a camping ground just down the road. Gratefully we thanked everyone and started on our way.

We have good lights for our bikes, but for some reason Ari's wasn't working and mine was shining directly up into the trees. Apparently when we had reassembled my bike, we had not rotated my handle bars to their original position, so when I attached my light to the mounted light holder, it was no longer useful. Plus, we had planned on just having a 5 minute walk to a rented room, and therefore were wearing our sandals, versus tennis shoes for cycling, and had not organized our stuff very well so we were left with plastic bags, etc. attached to the back of our bikes. We were quite a sight. So Ari attached his headlamp to his helmet, I held my light in my hand, and slowly we made it to the campground.

It was very small, and looked more like a place for teenagers to park and drink rather than a formal campground. But, locals had re-assured us that it was okay for camping. By the time we set up camp, it was midnight and I was exhausted and a bit worn out from the whole event (At the port landing I had to argue repeatedly with Ari that no, I did not want to set up the tent in the corner of an industrial zone parking lot). It was hard to fall asleep due to the noise and uncertainty of the situation - where exactly where we anyway, and how do we know where to get our morning ferry?

I eventually fell asleep, but soon was awoken by somebody blaring Croat music and honking their horn in time to the beat. We had set our alarm for an early wake up to give us ample time to find the ferry, so all in all I estimated about 2 hours of sleep for myself. Ari, on the other hand, woke up stating, "I slept great! If we come back to Zadar we can sleep here again!!"

We easily found our ferry, and had a pretty uneventful ferry ride to Dugi Otok. We arrived to hot, mostly sunny weather. Not long after I stated to Ari, "This isn't so bad," it started to rain. It felt good initially as we had been so hot. The rain became heavier and heavier, and proceded into a downpour. Then heavy thunder and lightening mixed with light hail. I began noticing more intently the rock walls on either side of us and the rockslide warning signs dotting the road. No signs of shelter or habitation.

We tried not to jump at each crash of thunder, nor slip in the fast approaching floods along the sides of the road. Furthermore, Ari's brakes barely worked on the 10% grade downhills. I started to shiver noticeably. Finally I saw a garage type roof that we could stand under to change our clothes, get warm, and wait out the storm. After a short period of time however, the landing under the roof started to flood as well. We identified another crawl space just next to the garage that was not flooding, so we ducked into there.

Meanwhile, a car with two young Italian girls pulled into the driveway. We were elated that somebody was finally going to help us. It turned out, however, that they did not live there. They too were waiting out the storm, which apparently was unsafe for motor vehicles as well. They kept the windows rolled up tight, and did not offer any help whatsoever. I told Ari, "If they were German, they would have helped us."

Finally the family arrived, and quickly ushered us inside and provided us with towels and dry clothes. The first thing the wife said to us, in German, was, "Do you speak German?" We waited out the storm with luke warm coffee (no power) and cookies, and finally it was safe to ride again.

We were only about 7 km from our destination, Sali. We quickly found Ivanna, the agent who booked us our room. "Oh, you are here," she stated surprisingly and a bit sheepishly. "I do not have a room for you. Because you arrived after noon, your room was given to someone else. Maybe you stay in another town?" We quickly reminded her of the recent storm "Oh yes," she stated, "But you should have called." We reminded her that the power was out and phones were not working. We also reminded her that she had repeatedly requested on the phone that we guarantee our arrival. "Yes, I know," she stated, "But I cannot help you."

We responded by saying that that was not okay, and reminded her that we were on bicycles with no other means of transportation to another town, and that we had reservations here in this town. We also reminded her that because of the storm, it took us longer to arrive. "Well, perhaps you do not know how to ride bicycles," she offered. "Yes," we replied, "We do know how to ride bicycles." We informed her that we had been traveling and cycling in various parts of the world and yes, we had figured out how to ride bicycles.

Several excuses later, she offered the statement, "I know how you feel." Again, I was quick to remind her that she could not know how we felt after what we had been through to arrive at this town. "Well, perhaps you have a condition then," she continued. "I do not have a condition, we would just like a room, in this town, which we reserved several days ago." Finally, she produced an option of an apartment for us, which we readily accepted. We told her if it didn't work out, we would be camping on her front porch.

Bosha, Bosha, Bosha

The transition from China to Budapest was quick and relatively easy. We took in the cafes, beautiful architecture, and history of the amazing city for three days, before beginning our journey south towards Croatia.

We arrived in Budapest to what felt like a pretty intense heat wave, 100+ degrees. We tuned up our bikes, replaced broken wheels (courtesy of the luggage handlers in China and Hungary) and planned our route from Budapest to Lake Balaton in the south, towards Croatia. We awoke at 4 am on our fourth day in Budapest to avoid the heat and traffic, and after a wobbly start, one minor fall, and one flat tire, we were on our way. We found Hungary to be pretty cycle friendly, and had no trouble making it to Lake Balaton (three days later) to meet our Croat friend Petar.

Only a few blunders along the way... getting slightly lost in a couple of the cities due to not having an adequate map (are we now on the freeway?) and experiencing exploding water bottles...Due to the intense heat wave, little girls were handing out free water bottles "with gas," and as Americans unaccustomed to carbonated drinking water, we did not realize the repercussions of filling our bike water bottles with carbonated water and having them constantly shake as we rode. We shortly heard popping noises as the lids to our bottles tried to shoot off like rockets.

Petar had offered to pick us up at a central portion of the lake and drive us back to his home in Zagreb, where we were to meet his family. He assured us that fitting our bikes, luggage, and ourselves into his two door hatchback would not be a problem. It wasn't really, except we had to disassemble our bikes, which we had just paid to assemble and tune up. Lisa had to ride in the back seat with a bicycle on her lap, unable to extend her knees for three hours. In addition, we had placed the tent ground cover over her legs to protect the vehicle and Lisa from grease and damage. The insulated ground cover created a very hot "survival-oriented space blanket effect," leaving Lisa's legs dripping in sweat. Luckily when Petar later transported our bikes, he did so with the use of his brother's bike rack.

After arriving at Petar's home, we were treated to an evening of his mom's cooking and interacting with his fun and engaging family. Lisa was instantly whisked off for a game of badminton with the nieces and nephews. His father, fluent in German and Croatian, would intersperse both languages off and on to us, and taught us one of our first, and his more frequently used words, Bosha (not sure of spelling), which roughly translates to "my god." When our time came to bid farewell, we left with fond memories and laughter with his family. We look forward to returning one day, and maybe one of his nieces or nephews will join us as an exchange student in the future.

Our plan was to have Petar drop us off two hours southwest of Zagre, where we would cycle on the Istrian Peninsula. Petar dropped us off at a campground which had been closed "for at least ten years," as told by the locals, "but still a great place to camp." We didn't pause to think why it was closed until Lisa heard what sounded like a large animal outside the tent, and began to wonder about bears and landmines (we were told by another cycle tourist that many times locals would not tell you or know if there are remaining landmines). So in the middle of the night, Ari was looking up landmine information in the guidebook (none in the area fortunately) and Lisa was worried about bears (Petar confirmed later that, "oh yeah, there are bears in the area"), and we waited out a thunder/lightening storm that started almost as soon as Petar dropped us off.

The next morning we awoke to an amazing clear day and found ourselves cycling through picturesque rural villages and scenery. We lost track of how many times we stated,"this is amazing." All of that however came to a screeching halt when our quiet, scenic road ended with a very hectic, non-bicycle friendly (the worst we've experienced ever) entrance to the town of Rijeka. We made it to our campground safe and sound, and were not pleased to find that Croat campgrounds (at least this one) boasted the same pit toilets as China. Exhausted, we slept soundly for our first night along the Adriatic Sea. Too tired to make dinner, we each ate a snickers bar and fell quickly asleep.

July and August, due to the swarming crowds of primarily German and Italian tourists, is not the ideal time to visit Croatia, especially if you are travelling via bicycle. After battling such crowds and crazy roads on the peninsula, we re-evaluated our route and decided to cycle only on the islands, where we hoped to (and did) find less traffic and tourists. The islands were wonderful. Wonderful and lazy. Ari obtained his first pair of European swimming shorts (we won't give details about the sunburn), and we purchased a three dollar bright yellow raft. We are pretty sure we were the only cycle tourists carrying a raft (We deflated while riding)...Although few kilometres were put on the bikes, many hours were spent at the beach, exploring the picturesque towns perched right on the Adriatic, often with cliffs as a backdrop, and hiking through some beautiful landscapes. It was relaxing, refreshing, and very much appreciated. Croatia, perhaps, has been the most beautiful, picturesque country we have visited.

Enjoy the photos...

Budapest...

Hungarian Snack Options...

Hungarian Sunflowers...

Petar and Family...

Petar's wonderful parents and their incredible veggie garden...

Samobor - Village outside of Zagreb...

Croatian Countryside...

Istria Peninsula...




Petar's Car (with bike rack) and Petar's Friend...Island of Cres (taken on our 1st anniversary)...

European swimming trunks vs. U.S. trunks, need we say more... Village of Valun...Photo taken from campsite...

Hike to the top of the Island of Losinj, or at least near the top...
City of Mali Losinj...



Village of Veli Losinj... Croatian Beaches are usually rock, pebbles, boulders, and rarely sand...Sunseekers often wedge themselves in rather uncomfortable areas...Donkey Festival in the village of Sali...We left too early to see the donkeys...
One of many ferry rides...
Bikes in Zadar, on the mainland...
Zadar...
Sunset in Zadar over our ferry, which boarded shortly after sunset for our overnight ferry from Croatia to Italy...