Queen of the Highway

Imported from Last.fm Tumblr by JoeLaz

Split, Croatia

losing a part of myself (part 4)

and so we reached Zagreb. the driver dropped us off on some bus station without any schedule, so we simply waited without knowing how long would it take. to kill the time we were observing the people who were crossing the street. it wouldn’t be so exciting in spite of the fact that there were no lights and cars were going really fast. and somehow people managed to cross this street without any harm. I imagined how it would be like, if such crosswalk was placed in Poland and I couldn’t count all the possible victims…

but eventually the bus came. the bus driver told us to get in without tickets, ‘cos he couldn’t sell us any and we couldn’t buy them anywhere near that bus stop. we changed the bus to the tram (still no tickets) to get to the centre and there we were. our host-to-be, Ana, couldn’t help us anymore, so we found the tourist information point to get a map and the directions to some locker, where we could left our stuff. on the way to the railway station we ate pizza. mine was a bit local, it was named somehow balkanish, but I don’t remember how exactly.

I have no idea how we managed to put all our stuff (my guitar included) into one locker, but somehow it was possible. so we left the railway station and each one of us went their own way to do some sightseeing for two hours. after the sightseeing I found an Internet cafe to check on our next hosts-to-be.

around 3 pm we packed ourselves up to the tram and shortly we reached the gas station placed (as it looked like on the map) near the beginning of the highway to the coast. but it happened to be still quite in the city, so we couldn’t catch any ride for over an hour. I was running there and back through the station, the car wash and the parking, but I had no luck until I started to talk with a guy near the car wash. he told me that we’re never gonna get any ride in there, but the highway is only 2 km forward and he could give us a lift to the gates.

and so after 5 pm we ended up on the gas station on the other side of the highway gates. shortly after I was talking with a Croatian woman, who eventually agreed to take us near Otoćac. it was an almost two-hour ride, so I took a nap. on the station she dropped us off we spent a bit more time. I was constantly texting with our host from Split, so I knew we have to make it to Split pretty soon. I wasn’t choosing anymore. I was asking everybody. and so I asked some guys, who looked much like some kind of mafia. they told me to wait 15 minutes, ‘cos they have to visit a friend and then they were gonna come back for us.

but when a half of an hour passed, I started to ask people again. and so I met a truck driver who was going to Zadar. after all, better Zadar than nothing. but before he reached it, he told us that he have to meet his friend earlier, so we stopped for a cup of coffee/a cigarette/to pee. smoking a cigarette outside of some road restaurant, I saw a car with the right plates. so I ran to the guy and asked him if he could take us to Split. the guy was not speaking English at all, but when I said we’re Polish, he smiled and agreed to give us a lift.

we quickly repacked our stuff from the track to the right car, ‘cos he seemed to be rather in hurry and it was after 8 pm anyway. during the repacking I forgot my favourite black hat in the truck, but I haven’t noticed it before some time later, so we obviously couldn’t go back.

something about the hat. it’s the one you can see on my profile picture and this photo was one of the last with its appearance. I bought it more than a year ago, visiting my best friend in Warszawa. and it became my signature. my symbol. my feather in the cap. it travelled with me to Sweden, Denmark, all the way to Amsterdam and back, to Budapest, then back to Poland, to Poznań, and now all the way to Croatia. people loved that hat and I was looking riddiculously well wearing it. and then, on the way to Split, it became irretrievably lost. I miss my hat. it was a part of me.

but let’s get back to the main story. we were sitting in the car with the Croatian guy, unable to talk with him, so we were simply admiring the views outside. the night was charmingly falling onto the land. and the guy was driving very fast. I remember noticing a sign with the speed limit 40 kph which we passed having 140 kph on the counter. but that way we reached Split shortly after 10 pm.