Rijeka

Sat looking out at the calm water of Rijeka Harbour with a cold beer in hand, I realised this was my fifth visit to Croatia inside two years.

To say I find this an agreeable place to spend a holiday would be something of an understatement. And having spent months looking forward to getting here and telling anyone who would vaguely consent to listening what a great country it is, I decided to capture the experience in a blog. It can be a pain in the arse compiling these when on holiday, but having a record of a great trip when you need cheering up on a wet Monday night in February makes it worthwhile. 

I was only in Rijeka for an afternoon. I had arrived by bus from Italy in the morning and was leaving on the 5pm boat to the island of Rab. I found it a curious city. It's certainly no Dubrovnik, but its setting by the sea with misty hills as a backdrop offers a charming vista. Rijeka is Croatia's third largest city, and is visually defined by its political past. The centre contains many splendid buildings dating back to when this was part of Habsburg Austro Hungary, whilst the outskirts are littered with concrete tower blocks built in communist Yugoslavia. Its identity comes from being a gritty port. I took a liking to the place, whilst simultaneously being glad I wasn't spending a night there and was heading to the islands, if that makes any sense at all. 

The three days I had spent prior getting here in Italy (two nights in Venice, one in Trieste) had been terrific. But there is something about Croatia that has the effect of instantly relaxing me in a way that nowhere else in Europe can. Whether it's the stillness of the Adriatic Sea, or just fond memories, I don't know.

The early morning bus journey from Trieste was not as calming. I arrived at the station a good half an hour early, having already purchased my ticket online in advance. The first difficulty was physically finding the bus, which was more of a struggle than you would expect. Having located the 8.30 service to Rijeka, I presented my ticket to the driver. He stared at it for a while, confirmed this was the correct bus, and then told me to go back to the ticket office to check in. I couldn't quite understand why this was necessary given that it said on the ticket 'present to driver' and nothing about checking in, but didn't argue. I then joined the back of a long queue at the ticket office, which made it touch and go whether I would make it onto the bus at all. Eventually I got to the counter, where a lady stared at the ticket and eventually stapled a piece of pink paper to the corner of it. She then charged me one Euro and sixty cents to give it back to me. Again, I didn't argue and made my way back to the bus, where I returned the same piece of paper to the driver. He looked at it for a few seconds, before finally saying that I could put my luggage on the bus - which he charged me two Euros for. I got on the bus with a couple of minutes to spare and breathed a sigh of relief. Believe it or not the driver then went down the bus and started another inspection, staring at my ticket intently for the third time in less than a few minutes, before folding it up and putting it in his pocket. I fully expected to be told I had breached some regulation or policy and that he would find some reason to say I couldn't travel, so it was a relief when the fat fuck finally did what he was paid to do - start the engine and drive the bus.

From Trieste the bus made its way into the hills and over to Slovenia. We passed a disused Yugoslavian border control point as we did so, which served as a reminder of how much has changed in this part of the world over the last two decades. We were in Slovenia a good hour, which looked a very pleasant place looking out of the bus window. When we reached the Croatian border I was somewhat taken aback to see proper, full on security controls in place - especially as there was nothing at all when leaving Italy. There were tons of cops everywhere, and long queues on both sides of the border. It was bizarre - Croatia and Slovenia were part of the same nation only a few years ago, and both countries are in the European Union, so why the need for armed cops and this level of security? A policeman came on board to inspect everyone's passports, and predictably some passengers had left theirs in their luggage, so we further delayed whilst they rummaged through their bags to find them. It is almost perverse - the people working on the border have to be as officious and righteous as possible to make what they are doing seem important, when in actual fact it isn't. Croatia and Slovenia are, rightly or wrongly, part of a Union that allows the free movement of people. Border controls like these are therefore utterly pointless.  

When the bus finally arrived in Rijeka, I was on the brink of vomiting such were the number of endless bends we seemed to have gone round over the last few hours. Fortunately this unedifying spectacle was narrowly avoided, and I collected my bag and headed to the station left luggage 'office', which was basically a dilapidated little room behind a fast food takeaway. Here the pointless bureaucracy of the day took a new twist when the rather hagged old man behind the counter insisted on inspecting my passport before allowing me to deposit my bag. He then proceeded to go through page after page of it - in between eyeing me up suspiciously - before filling in a small piece of paper and asking me for money. I expect this sort of thing at international airports, but to leave a bag at Rijeka bus station is somewhat surreal....

After a couple of late morning beers in a lovely harbour-side bar, I went to the ferry port to collect my ticket for the boat to Rab. I had already booked and paid for the tickets online, but I was now fully expecting to have to hand over more money, complete a 56 page form and take a DNA test before I would be given it. Happily, there were no such obstacles to overcome and I was given my ticket in seconds. 

With several hours to kill and little open due to it being a Sunday, I went in search of food. After a quick stroll around Rijeka's charming and compact centre, I saw a Chinese restaurant and went straight inside. Food in Croatia is pretty staple Mediterranean fare - pizza, pasta, meat, fish - and there is very little international variety. Whilst the actual food is always really good, after a while it can get a bit boring and so if you see an opportunity to try something different, take it. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon sinking beers by the harbour, reading, staring out into the distance and occasionally scratching the mosquito bites I had picked up in Venice. Although I was in transit in a large city, I felt completely relaxed, as if I was slumped in a hammock on a paradise island. It helped that the beers cost little more than a pound a pop, although I did start to worry about the wreckage on my waistline this lifestyle was going to cause over the course of a fortnight. 

The 5pm cataraman from Rijeka to Rab was quieter than I thought it would be in peak season. It also started to rain heavily, which did have the upside of creating a wonderful rainbow in the distance. A little before 7pm the boat pulled into the now sun drenched harbour of Rab Town, and I went in search of my hotel - and more beer...