We have reached Croatia again, after a comfortable ride along a comfortable motorway, something we haven’t had for a while.
Our first stop is Split, the largest city on the Dalmatian coast, originally settled by the Greeks in the 3rd or 2nd C BC. The most important building, however, is of Roman origin, the Palace of the emperor Diocletian, built at the beginning of the 4th C AD. Much of the palace still stands, although it may have been part-restored and -rebuilt several times through history, and it still forms about half of the old town of Split – and is a major tourist attraction, of course. The city’s subsequent history as a Byzantine town, and independent city state and ultimately as part of the Venetian Republic has all left its traces, but mostly ensured its continuous importance.
The Palace
The weather is not fabulous; it is just about dry, but overcast. Yet, wandering through the palace remains a delight, and doesn’t seem to be too different from 30 years ago, when we came to Croatia, and to Split, during our years in Albania. Much of the old town seems to have escaped the unrelenting tourist development that we have seen along the Montenegrin coast, for example. Except that the harbour is now filled with large, expensive yachts, and the occasional cruise ship, obscuring the skyline from the sea.
The Museum
As it keeps raining, we decide on an indoors program, the museum of Ivan Mestrovic. Mestrovic is the most important sculptor, of Croatia – and of Yugoslavia at the time, he died in 1962. The collection in the museum is an excellent overview of his work, some in stone, some bronze, plaster and wood, from across his active life. His religious works include a fabulous Via Cruces, in the form of a series of wooden carved panels – forget frescoes! – in a small church near the museum. (quite) a few more photos here.
The Olives
We are staying with a friend, who lives just outside Split, in a fabulous house. Surrounded by olive trees. Instead of relaxing, after the long drive from Mostar, we are being put to work straight away. It is harvest time, and this is the day to pick olives. And the next day… too! But in the evening we make our way to a local olive press, with no less than 292 kg in large bags. We are not the only ones, it is a coming and going of cars and vans, some with far more than we have. The guys from the press are sorting out all of the piles, for processing later in the night, but we are lucky, we can wait for our turn and see our olives turned into liquid gold; well, a little greener, but with great potential.
next: Trogir































