Author Archives: dtravelsround

Birthday suits and Split

I had made it my goal to go outside of my comfort zone, and this certainly did just that.

So, I did what any slightly intoxicated traveler in a foreign land would do — hastily removed all of my clothes, threw them on the sidewalk next to the water, and, along with Shaun, plunged into the inky black sea.

The first thing I felt was bliss.

The second thing I felt was the cold water seeping into my pores.

The third thing I felt was pain.

Instantaneous enlightenment on the Adriatic

“I recon you and I are one of the lucky ones. There is only a small percentage of people in this world, D, that have the wealth. And you and I? We are the lucky people. We are people who have this wealth. And, as people who have this wealth, we have to do something,” he had commented. “When I am an old man, I am not going to sit there and count how much money I had, or look at a wall of all of my achievements. Those things don’t make me happy. When I am an old man,” he said, “I want to be able to look back at my life and know that I did something to make a difference. I helped someone. I was as happy as I could ever possibly be. And I didn’t need wealth, or a nice home, or a white fence, to get me to that point. I want to know that I did everything in my power to live.”

This could be heaven …

At one point, I walked by a wall which had windows that provided stunning views of the sea. Someone had scrolled on the marble wall next to the view “This could be heaven …”, a spot-on description and one I use now to describe Croatia’s second largest city.

A BRIEF Intermission — Fall Foliage Photo Essay 10.24.09

Following the heart-warming travel misadventures, here’s a pretty little break for your eyes — photos from a drive through NE Georgia/Appalachians to check out the turning of the leaves at their peak. While the photos don’t do the warm orange, golds and red justice, you get the point. For those that have never had theContinue reading “A BRIEF Intermission — Fall Foliage Photo Essay 10.24.09”

I’ve always relied on the kindness of strangers

We headed out of Zadar, the sun pushing through the curtains on the right side of the bus as we made our way down the coast. After about 20 minutes, the sun shifted and was no longer being shuttered by the curtains, but was instead behind us. I looked out the window and saw mountains and farms and roosters and stone huts pass us by.

OK, I thought. Clearly, I am on the bus to Split that meanders through small towns and eventually gets me to the city. I knew there were two buses that took people to Split, one that took three hours and one that took longer because of its stops through towns. I assumed I was on the longer bus ride.

When only a few people remained on the bus, I started to grow concerned. I got up and walked to the bus driver, asking him if he spoke English. He did not, so instead, I simply asked “Split?”

He looked at me, confused, and said “No.”

“Zadar?” I asked, my heart starting to race.

“No.”

There were only a few people left on the bus. Where were we going?

The prettiest day trip ever

To say Plitvice Lakes is a stunner would be an understatement. Its sheer technicolor natural beauty around each and every meandering turn is jaw-dropping. Its 16 turquoise lakes link together through waterfalls cascading down sheer rock cliffs. Unlike most water bodies I have seen, you can see straight to the bottom with astounding clarity. That twig resting on the lake floor? You can see even the most minute detail.

A Hollywood ending. Almost.

“What’s your phone number?” he asked.

Suddenly, the memory of my new outgoing voicemail message rang in my ears. Berry and I are on vacation. When I get back I will return your call. Oh. DAMNIT. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. I had never set up my phone for international calls.

“I don’t have a phone,” I could barely whisper.

The new roommate

That’s when I saw Him on the street below. He caught my eye immediately. Perfect height (I’d probably recon around 5’9 or so). Perfect weight (the right blend between athletic and non-athletic). And completely different from the typical guy.

He wore plaid shorts, a dark shirt and shiny gold-framed sunglasses. He had a healthy serving of tattoos on his arms and legs, and a lip ring hooped through the middle of his bottom lip. His brown hair was cropped close to his head.

There was no way he was staying at Fulir. He just didn’t fit the mold of a typical backpack-hostel-goer. But, he walked up the ancient, red colored stairs, pulled a key out of his pocket and walked through the yellow painted door into the room I was staying in. When he walked in I caught a glimpse of a tattoo peaking through his hair on the back of his head and melted just a little bit.