piran café

Dolphins as PR/tourism icon are everywhere in Mali Lošinj. So it made my day to see a school of 10 or so during a relatively brief boat ride to Susak, a small island about 10 nautical miles southwest of Mali Lošinj.

Only about 200 people live on the island year round. It’s a quiet place, relaxing. It appears that it’s been that way for some time and quite likely will stay that way. There are a small handful of stores, restaurants and cafés – most were still shuttered in mid-May — but absent are night clubs, large or even medium-sized hotels, and most conspicuously, roads.

There are no cars on the island; the only motorized vehicles I saw were a few small tractors hauling smaller trailers loaded with supplies which arrived on an afternoon boat. Otherwise, wheelbarrows, or karijole, appear to be the device of choice to push things around. I spent most of a quick coffee break observing one man, in his late 60s or early 70s is my guess, pushing 15 liters of red wine in his karijola. He stopped quickly at the café, enjoyed a coffee and a piece of baklava, and was on his way in less than 180 seconds.

I can understand quite a bit of Croatian, but am hardly fluent. Nonetheless, I did notice that the locals used a very distinct dialect, one I’ve never heard before. The island’s first inhabitants were the Illyrians; the majority of their surviving descendents left the island in the late 1940s after Croatia became part of Yugoslavia, and emigrated primarily to Hoboken, New Jersey.

It struck me as an interesting place to spend some time for a longer anthro/ag/geog/etc research project, if one was looking for such a thing. You can choose to be very isolated here, but with the luxury of a quick commute to the mainland which also happens to be an island. I came on a day trip, spent just a few hours, but long enough to want to return, at least for a few days. This type of seclusion, remote but still not that far removed, is rare, and fascinating at the same time.

Quick plug for our ship’s captain, Luciano Magazin, who operated one of about a dozen or so boats with daily departures to nearby islands from the port at Mali Lošinj. The cost for the trip, roughly an hour each way, is 100 KUN (13.66 EUR/ 19.16 USD), and he offers an on-board lunch for an additional 80 KUN (11 EUR/15 USD). Definitely worth it. We enjoyed a variety of local and fresh pan-fried fish, a hefty green salad, and a delicious potato/spinach dish, all bottomless portions, plus plenty of red and white wine. And although it isn’t quite as good as Brkinska (none is, really), the welcome glass of slivovec (plum brandy) at a few minutes after 10 was quite tasty.

Some more of my pics here, and here’s a terrific link for plenty more info:.

(Visited mid-May 2009)

dolphins 03, originally uploaded by pirano.

The Croatian island of Lošinj is the northernmost area of Europe where lemons grow. That tidbit tells you quite a bit about what to expect from this northern Adriatic island in the Kvarner Gulf. The island’s 33km long, but for all intents and purposes, considerably longer given its close relationship with it’s northern sister Cres, at a whopping 66km long and 405 square km the largest Croatian island. The two are joined at the village of Osor by a laughably small bridge that traverses its eponymous bay. (It’s laughable because I laughed out loud. I guess I was simply expecting something not so small.)

Looking for an Adriatic island trip in early May –my first– the Cres- Lošinj archipelago was a great choice, but primarily one of practicality (along with a few nice reviews). Besides Krk to the east, it’s the closest to Ljubljana and easily accessible via Rijeka or just beyond Opatija.

Ferry:
Brestova-Porozina, 15 KUN (2 EUR/2.90 USD)/person, 96 (13.15 EUR/18.39 USD) for a car. About a 30 minute ride. Service is more or less hourly, besides the longer midday/lunch break. Here’s last year’s (2008) high season schedule, which will probably be quite similar this year.  If you’re on a tight schedule, note that in 2008 the last boat back left at midnight.

Roads:
From Porozina it’s a fabulous drive with plenty of great views towards both coasts, and you’ll drive through evergreen and some hardwood forests. Give yourself a little time to adjust to the narrow roads, and take care on the turns. Most bus drivers I came across took them very fast, particularly uphill. There are lots of cyclists too.

There’s plenty of road construction –some major– at the moment, with the aim presumably to have work completed before high season hits. I got the impression that that really won’t happen.

It took about an hour-and-a-half to reach the town of Cres, and another hour before we parked the car for the next three days in Mali Lošinj. Unless you’re just doing so to get your bearings, there is no need to drive into town (no free parking). There’s ample free parking available just a short walk from the port; at least a few hotels do offer closer parking but with a fee.

From the ferry dock at Brestova it’s about 70 km to Mali Lošinj, the county seat and main port, a very pleasant and relatively quiet (at least in early May) harbor town with a west facing port. The harbor’s nicely-maintained promenade, or riva,  is lined with an ample number of restaurants, cafes, bars, and gift shops, along with a few hotels (I got a decent deal for the portside Apoksiomen) and a couple galleries.

While virtually anything can be done on the cheap with a little resourcefulness, if you’re looking for something low budget overall, you won’t find it here (or from what I hear, anywhere on the Dalmatian coast anymore). I dined at several restaurants, and enjoyed the fresh seafood, the local olive oils and wines. Few entrees came in at under 15 EUR, most were more.

I saw a pair of nice campgrounds nearby as well, which is where I will stay when I return.

Plenty of boats head out in the morning for day trips to the various nearby islands, most costing 100 KUN/13.70 EUR/19 USD per person. Most leave at 10am for pre-determined destination, but most captains welcome itinerary changes. I went to Susak, about an hour away, which came highly recommended.

If graffiti is your thing, save that creative energy for a small and abandoned Yugoslav navy installation just beyond the western edge of the port. Plenty of dilapidated buildings to serve as your canvas. There a small curving tunnel you can roam through afterwards. (There’s a brief blind spot in the center but fear not, you can make it without a flashlight.)

Overall, terrific. It’s said to be very busy in the summer months, so best times to visit are spring and fall. Definitely bring some sun block.

About a dozen pics on my flickr stream.

Mali Lošinj 09, originally uploaded by pirano.

About a year ago, I mentioned the Yugo I proudly spent four years driving around the hills of southeast Ohio.

I’m sure there are at least a few folks in the former East Germany who share a similar fondness for their famed trabants, though I haven’t met any yet.

While widely remembered – by those who choose to remember them - as a symbol of DDR ineptitude, trabants did in fact need to pass a quality control test of sorts, usually involving hammers. Dig that music!

Found this old radio in my grandmother’s attic over the weekend, an RIZ (RadioIndustrija Zagreb) 634 UKV. According to this Croatian collector’s site, stariradio.com, it was the last of the Zagreb manufacturer’s series of 28 models. My guess is that this monster is among the heaviest too. This model was made in 1963, making it a few years older than me, so I’ll consider it a genuine antique.

I love the veritable geography lesson on this huge dial. I wonder how many times my grandparents tuned in to Radio Temisoara?

Mine’s missing the far right button of three, next to ‘jazz’ and ‘govor’. Anyone know where I can find one?

And while on topic, the collector and restorer, Marijan, is apparently still looking for seven of the 28 RIZ’s to fill out his collection.  Can anyone help?

RIZ 634 UKV (02), originally uploaded by pirano.

So reports Belgrade 2.0:

Apparently Serbian and Croatian diaspora in Australia have nothing better to do and no bigger worries, so it seems that their biggest problem was the existence of each other. In all that boredom they decided to sing ‘provocative’ songs to each other and, if plausible, start a fight.

The venue? Monday’s Australian Open. As in the tennis tournament.

Link to Sydney Morning Herald’s blow-by-blow account, complete with details on how the troops were rallied.

UPDATE (18-Jan): Things apparently cooled down today, the Morning Herald reports, despite a late night match between Croatia’s Marin Cilic and Serbia’s Ilia Bozoljac.

The self-proclaimed Serb-Australian fan leader, Novica Zivak, had promised to return and stab Croats but was unseen, as were Croat-Australians who had promised to fight back.

From a Reuters story in The Scotsman on the Stimlje mental institution in Kosovo:

“The patients came here when Yugoslavia was still alive,” says the director, Kujtim Xhelili. “So we have Serbs from Kosovo, from Serbia, from Vojvodina, Croats from Croatia. We have Albanians, Macedonians, Roma, Muslims from Bosnia.”

and

Most of the residents have been here for at least 15 years. They arrived as citizens of one country, and have lived in isolation as Yugoslavia disintegrated and more than 130,000 were killed in wars in Bosnia, Croatia and Kosovo.

When sorting through a few boxes of stuff I had shipped here from the states, I found these: the keys to the 1988 Yugo that I drove through the hills of southeast Ohio for more than five years. It was a good car, and despite the odometer dying at 27,000 miles, was relatively reliable, and always put a smile on people’s faces as I drove by. You can’t expect or ask for much more from a vehicle that was $3300 out the door ($92/month for four years with the only crappy financing I could get), with a 100% warranty for a year, including free oil changes. I was among the working poor then, and found solace in the fact that even if I missed a payment or two, the bank wouldn’t bother with any efforts to repossess.

Pining for what I called in the early 90s “my car without a country,” I sought out other proud owners on youtube, and predictably, didn’t find any.

But I did find this: a Yugo rally purportedly taped here in Slovenia. (I took much better care of mine.) And this, a dancing transformer Yugo. And this, a triple decker Yugo (of sorts). And finally, this, a commercial for YugoUSA, warning us, “Everyone needs a Yugo sometime.” (How’d that woman fit that big hair into a Yugo?)