6 Seaside Parking at Opatija

Heading back to Croatia, we waved goodbye to gorgeous Lake Bled then plotted a 3-hour course for the Adriatic. I wondered if I would ever travel to Slovenia again. Perhaps we were supposed to purchase a vehicle pass as one tour-guide book advised but we didn’t stop to ask. We crossed the border without incident with Dave and I in the front seat looking like we were in charge and the girls in the back looking like they were happy to have the guys be in charge. Oh! Got another passport stamp.

Our first coast sighting was amazing. We exited the autobahn high above the Sea looking down toward the inlet shores where the romantic city of Opatija resides. The view was a postcard we’ve all seen of some exotic location for the rich and famous and we were holding reservations for the Grand Belleview Hotel right on the waterfront. Parking was a premium so I engaged the flashers to drop off my mates and our luggage. I then carried on down a windy shoreline oneway street hunting for an open space to bed Opel. One block, two blocks, three blocks, half-mile later I found a lot with a few blue spaces. I dropped some coins in the meter and hiked back. When I arrived at the hotel, I found Petey lying down in a prime parking spot trying to hold it open for my return. Like a traveler shooing away starving vultures after a fallen companion she was fending off hungry parkers vying for prime parking real estate. “Too late,” I said, “I already ‘coined’ a spot.” Bummer.

6 Yes we have No Hamburgers

For dinner, we strolled along the promenade looking for a good Italian place. Instead, we parked at a seaside café. We were early. The seaside tables weren’t open. Instead we ate under a patio by a dock. We ordered a round of hamburgers. I was in the mood for a good hamburger. “I’ll have the cheeseburger please,” I told the young waiter. He took our order and soon returned with good news and bad news. “We have no buns but another hamburger dish I can offer has better meat.” You just opened and you have no buns? And what kind of hamburger meat is better meat?

While we waited for our gourmet hamburger better meat dish, we were entertainment by a boy at the table next to us who was enthralled with the fish on his plate staring back at him. The waiter broke our amusement with a large cooked meat patty stuffed with Swiss cheese. No lettuce, no tomato, no pickle, nothing but black meat on a white plate. The side of fries worked with ketchup that came in a hefty two liter bottle. The real downside of the meal was our check. I was still wrapping my head around currency exchange and deciphering an encoded café bill was beyond my reach. We paid the waiter and as we strolled away, we realized that we were charged twice the price of our original cheeseburger order. Remember, “you get better meat.”

6 Gelato on the Promenade

Among the most enjoyable activities in Opatija were strolls down the long promenade, a wide cement-stamped or bricked walkway that mirrors the coastline. The promenade area near the Grand Belleview Hotel staged a kiddie play center complete with small electric hummers, mid-size trampolines enclosed by netting, bungee jumping on a trampoline platform where kids bounced up and down, and a cage with four Nerf ball cannons that kids fired at each other. The area was usually full of kids with parents within supervision range. Up and down the walkway toward the water side there was plenty of skin, both genders. Against common decency, older men are not bashful to don a Speedo nor are older women to lose their top.

The promenade is also lined with makeshift souvenir stands selling everything from silk-screened shirts and hats, to beach shoes, to postcards, to jumbo beach towels. I priced such a towel with a Croatian theme. A vendor in Pula started at 180KN then as I turned he quickly went to 150KN. In Opatija we were offered the same towel for 130KN. A gelato (ice cream) stand is plugged in every 50 meters or so it seems. Petey and I were frequent customers. My favorite flavors were Kokos (coconut), Rafella or Raffy (coconut with toasted almonds), Limon (lemon), and Menta (Mint Chip). The ice cream is soft, a little fluffier than in the states, but it’s all good. Prices vary between 5 and 8KN per scoop (about $1-1.30 US) and usually one scope was enough to end a perfect day … though there were many days where extra walking “earned” a second scoop.

7 A Room with a View

Our 4th floor room was spacious with double French doors opening to a balcony that yielded sweeping views of the bay. Wow! The scene was amazing. Just below a colorful flower bed surrounded a large fountain and next door was the bus station where rows of tour buses lined up awaiting their call of duty. Donna commented that the hotel had the elegance of a 1950’s seaside resort where movie-star sightings were frequent. She was right. Opatija is the French Riviera of the Adriatic. Steves pans it as too Geritol but I disagree. Though it shows its age, this resort town exudes classic, elegant charm. It’s perfectly laid out for sunbathers and swimmers alike with an expansive promenade and several semi-circle swimming bays each the size of a high school pool.

One morning I woke at 4:00; my bio-clock was still off. Rather than lay awake in bed, I parked myself outside on the balcony to catch up on my musings. I experienced Opatija waking up. The air was chilled but still; a deep breath reminded me I was next to the sea. The silence broke just as dawn appeared like the light in a room with a dimmer switch being slowly turned. The sounds began with a random tag-team of high-whining Vespa scooters passing by, no doubt the drivers on their way to a service job. The large fountain below sprang to life. The seagulls stretched their wings and began their chant. A street sweeper rumbled by with the familiar sounds of a low rumble and whisking brushes. At 6:00 AM, the chorus of charter buses fired up as their diesel engines billowing out small clouds of smoke; they signaled to the city that there was a schedule to keep. At 6:30, the sun peaked over the ridge and when the rays met the sea, it was game-on.

7 Bonus Buffet

The hotel room included a breakfast buffet that we abused both days. In ample supply we gathered meats, cheeses, yogurts, fruit, sausage links both small and hot-dog sized, eggs, cereals, breads, and spreads of various type including a half/half butter and Nutella … Petey’s favorite. A juice machine and a coffee machine provided any beverage of choice, though the orange and grapefruit juices were actually watered-down drinks, not nectar. Petey and Donna gave a thumb’s up to the rich hot chocolate. I mixed espresso with my hot chocolate … good to the last drop. Petey noticed that the Asian bus tour group stocked up on fruits and vegetables while their Italian counterpart piled plates with breads, meats and cheeses. The large stately dining room was self-divided into ethnic groups. One good looking gal with a thin frame, a model perhaps, took multiple trips to the bread department. Beverage and bread, we marveled that she could look so thin. Petey suggested it was because she walked so much going back and forth to the bread basket area.

7 Activity Director

Marjana was the hotel activity director … if there was such a thing. She’s maybe 22, lively, bright smile, tomboy hair and green Converse high-tops. Any parent would be proud to have her as a daughter. That night, Marjana invited hotel guests to a World Cup Soccer party near the bar. The semi-final game between Uruguay and Netherlands had just begun. We were the first ones to her party. She had decorated the tables with balloons and draped a row of paper flags on the wall, assorted countries on display. The large LCD TV mounted in the corner broadcast the game with Croatian commentating … except for the player names spoken in English. Marjana asked us to bet. No money, just a bet to see who could guess the final score. “You have 5 more minutes then the betting is closed. The winner gets a t-shirt and a glass of Pivo (beer),” she explained. One by one we told Marjana our predictions as she wrote them down on a large poster-size ledger. A Dutch born history professor soon joined us along with his Hungarian wife. He predicted a 5-0 win for Netherlands. Later a Spanish couple wandered in. We, rather I, shouted at the TV providing an American version of color comments. When a goal was scored, Marjana played a celebration tune on her boom-box, “Another One Bites the Dust.” From time to time I asked her to translate the TV comments … pretty similar to American commentators. Since I predicted a 1-0 game, I was out of the prize as soon as the second goal was scored. Dave had the right score but the wrong winning team. Petey and Donna were close as well. Marjana was in her element keeping track of her guests. She hosted another party the next night for the Spain-Germany game. We joined her that night too.

7 Down by the Sea

At the majestic cool-deck swimming holes just off the Opatija promenade, I enjoyed my first Adriatic swim. I learned early in my life that “jumping in” rather than easing into the water is the best way to get acclimated. The salty sea was refreshing! I swam to the stringed-buoys then south to the bronze “Lady Statue” then north to the sail boats … about ½ mile. Farther down the promenade, I spotted a 10’ high-dive jetting out from the cliff. Step, step, step, jump, spring … “hold that pose for the camera ” … SPLASH! “Got to do that again.”