Zagrebing Life by the Falls
As signs of a frigid winter began to cast a dark shadow over the Western Balkans, our itinerary took us away from the comfort and relative warmth of the Adriatic coastline inland towards the centre of the country. I say centre, but when the country you’re describing is shaped as peculiarly as Croatia is, the centre could be pretty much anywhere. All I can say with any confidence is that, with each passing hour chugging along frosty B roads, our altitude grew exponentially greater just as the weather grew exponentially grimmer. We were, however, not lost.
That was until we got lost. We were supposedly on our way to Plitvice Lakes National Park – one of Croatia’s oldest and most treasured green spaces – but finding it in the dark, dusk depths of winter was a challenge too far, for one evening at least. We were forced to pull into a heavily inclined restaurant car park and continue our search at sunrise. Given the bleak, overcast skies the following morn, it was hard to tell if sunrise had occurred or not but were able to see just enough signage to guide us towards the entrance of the park; a park which is known the world over for one particular natural phenomenon: waterfalls.
Almost as soon as we had paid the reasonably priced admission fee, the clouds briefly parted just long enough for us to capture a few shots of the countless, captivating cascades under a clear-ish sky. As well as a wealth of waterfalls, the seventy thousand acre site also hosts a number of cavernous caves and turquoise, tufa lakes although the waters didn’t look particularly inviting on this day. While visiting in the summer would undoubtedly offer more favourable vistas, it would undoubtedly offer an increase in young American couples pushing you out of their way in order to record ‘content’, so we’ll take what we’ve got.
The lakes are connected via a plethora of boardwalk pathways that zig zag their way from the lowest-lying bottom pool to the very top pond, passing countless astonishing, aqueous scenes akin to Waterworld as they go. Weary walkers, ourselves most definitely included, can then unashamedly return via the ‘Sightseeing Train’ which offers glorious views of the waterway from the ridge above; or it would have done had the mists of Avalon not shrouded the basin in a haze.
Upon leaving the heartlands of Croatia, our journey then looped us around the lungs-shaped country to its capital: Zagreb. On our arrival at the appropriately named Camp Zagreb, on the outskirts of the city, things were looking grand. We were treated to an excellent welcome, faultless facilities, lake-side views, and a wooded restaurant-cum-bar about ten metres from the van. However, after a pleasant evening in the aforementioned lodge, so commenced a torrent of disasters that almost resulted in our premature return home.
Firstly, our precious diesel heater decided to give up the ghost for the second time in a year which was less than ideal given the below-freezing night-time temperatures. Secondly, food poisoning. At least I believe it was. I will save you the distasteful, digestive details but I arose midway through the night feeling outstandingly nauseous and like a Toby Carvery was about to abandon my bowels any second. Shivering through both illness and a lack of heat, it was then that Vishnu struck the greatest of all hammer blows by not starting at all. No engine, no movement, no sign of life whatsoever. Having quickly exhausted my limited ability to repair the heater, van, or myself I was feeling pretty low at this point. After an inordinate amount of time translating our troubles over the phone to every garage this side of Galiyevka, we eventually found ourselves on the back of a speeding tow truck, safe in the knowledge that we would be tipped to our deaths at the next roundabout.
Surprisingly, we survived that journey, as well as subsequent price negotiations with Croatian mechanics, cancellation of our Airbnb after standing outside the premises in the freezing cold for over an hour, waiting days for the van to be repaired, and my unreliable gut. However, survive them we did and when all was right in the world once more, we rewarded ourselves with a visit to the opening of Winter Wonderland Zagreb! Fireworks and frankfurters galore – Croatians love a skinny sausage too – we could finally put our beat feet up knowing that our foray through our next nation couldn’t possibly be as problematic? Idemo u Srbiju!
J
