Balkan Road Trip - 11. Split, Croatia

Rarely do we get the chance to freely explore a Roman imperial palace whenever we liked, 24 hours a day without entrance gates and tour groups with megaphones. Here we stood directly above Emperor Diocletian's Palace in Split, overlooking the 1700-year-old maritime fortress and royal residence now transformed into a dynamic neighbourhood of historic apartments interweaved with upscale cafes and jazz clubs.


There are so many cool thing about the historic centre of Split, an archeological goldmine and UNESCO World Heritage Site unfortunately surrounded by 20th century industrial sprawl and regularly overshadowed by Dubrovnik as Dalmatia's premier tourist destination. While nobody can refute Dubrovnik's photogenicity, I personally enjoyed Split much more for its authenticity, reasonable prices as well as the plethora of day-trip opportunities for longer stays.


This was the midpoint of our 22-day Balkan road trip from Albania to Slovenia as we arrived on a lengthy bus ride from our previous stop of Mostar in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Split would be our homebase for the next few nights with day-trips to three other UNESCO World Heritage Sites: Trogir, Sibenik and Zadar.


With limited budget we settled for a pint-sized apartment at an optimal location -- literally a two minute walk from Diocletian's Palace and five minutes from the bus station -- with a functional kitchen, air conditioning and the indispensable washing machine. Special thanks to Neno and family for being such helpful hosts!


Our apartment's proximity to Diocletian's Palace allowed for early morning photoshoots at the gorgeous Peristyle, originally the palace's central courtyard now incorporated into the Romanesque cathedral and the various Renaissance mansions built on top of its Roman granite columns over the centuries.


Formerly a lavish foyer for Diocletian's living quarters, the Vestibule's spherical cupola had been gradually overtaken by peasant squatters over the centuries, deteriorating into a livestock pen at times before being restored as public space and regularly used by a capella groups for superb acoustic qualities that continue to testify the precision of 4th century Roman engineers.


The landing that once received distinguished guests arriving at the Emperor's seaside residence by boat has been converted into a subterranean chamber hosting an assembly of souvenir shops, now situated at least 100m from the nearest shore beneath ethnographic museums and 4-star hotels.

Relics from the Emperor's gigantic wine presses remain visible in the expansive underground cellar, now open to the public as an archeological museum and occasionally booked as the city's most prestigious venue for private banquets. That said, many guests may not know the historic function of this monumental hall as the city's septic tank for human waste back in the Middle Ages.


It was the height of Roman influence in Dalmatia when Diocletian ordered twelve of these 3500-year-old Egyptian sphinxes to be shipped to Split, standing guard outside the Temple of Jupiter and Diocletian's future mausoleum.


The Romans have since given way to the Byzantines, Hungarians, Venetians and now Croatians, and Diocletian's mausoleum has since become the second oldest existing structure used as a Roman Catholic cathedral, satirically named after a 3rd century local bishop executed by Diocletian himself.


The cathedral's 12th century bell tower offers sweeping panoramas of Split's impressive maritime credentials, from Diocletian's seaside fortress to Yugoslav-era shipyards to Adriatic cruise ships of the 21st century. Passenger ferries in the background make Split the default jump-off point for the nearby islands of Brac, Hvar and Korcula, and for the Italian port of Ancona across the Adriatic.


Maritime traditions apparently rub off among local university students who routinely gather at the old fishing port of Matejuska across from the city's most expensive hotels, cheap beers in hand and enjoying the summery sunset on Split's palm tree-lined riviera. For us it was this refreshing dose of authenticity that differentiated Split from the disney-esque atmosphere of Dubrovnik.


My favorite activity in the morning was a stroll to the Green Market just east of Diocletian's Palace, rummaging between rows of fresh produce and watching local grannies inspect the prsut and cheese with their noses. For more authentic shopping among the local housewives, another lesser-known open-air market exists a couple hundred metres north near Istarska ulica, where my wife was able to pick up a linen dress fit for the local climate.


Early morning hustle at the fish market makes for another terrific spot to people watch at this timeless port city, known for its time-honoured fish recipes with Venetian influences. Here in Split we sampled three of the city's countless seafood restaurants, based largely on recommendations from our friendly landlord.

Restaurant Review: KONOBA FIFE (Split) (Location Map)

This was our landlord's top recommendation for a proper introduction to authentic Dalmatian fare, not just seafood but also hearty regional specialties such as stuffed peppers or beef tripes, served by characterful (i.e. rough in a good way) staff on crowded tables that you'll most likely share with a bunch of strangers.


A stone's throw from the fishing boat anchors at Matejuska, Konoba Fife has for decades served gruffly sailors and cash-strapped students alike with its cheap and dependable menu of home-cooked favorites. We spent a reasonable 64 kuna (8.7 euros) on this filling Dalmatian stew of Bakalar na Brudet, and only 48 kuna (6.5 euros) for a filling dish of Stuffed Peppers, a reverse sticker shock after spending a couple days at the extortionate Dubrovnik.


We really should have stuck to the local specialties rather than this generic plate of two grilled sea basses, amazingly (compared with Dubrovnik) priced at just 81 kuna but slightly stale. But as the food was authentic and the wine was cheap, both ourselves and the Oregon couple who shared our table quite enjoyed this casual evening just off Split's waterfront boardwalk.

Meal for Two Persons

Stuffed Peppers	48 Kuna
Grilled Sea Bass	81 Kuna
Bakalar na Brudet	64 Kuna
Table White 0.5L	45 Kuna
Bottle of Water	16 Kuna
TOTAL	254 Kuna (CAD$51.8)

Now comfortable with our landlord's restaurant recommendations, we proceeded to try another little konoba hidden in a blind residential alley just north of the old town.

Restaurant Review: KONOBA KOD JOZE (Split) (Location Map)

Our landlord's second recommendation was a step above Konoba Fife's level of blue-collar rowdiness, appearing as more of a neighbourhood tavern that catered more to its regulars than to occasional visitors like ourselves. Right from the start Konoba Kod Joze impressed us with its purist interpretation of Mussels Buzaru with little more than white wine, olive oil, and copious amounts of minced garlic to accentuate the flavour of these fresh mussels from the nearby islands.


And that was followed by my favorite dish in Split, a generously portioned and impossibly tender dish of octopus salad, again seasonsed simply with little but fresh herbs, wine vinegar and some impressively fragrant olive oil from the Adriatic islands. This was a few notches above the watery but decently flavoured risotto to come.


I completely understood our landlord's preference for this hard-to-find konoba offering quality, traditional Dalmatian flavours at neighbourhood prices. For three seafood courses plus drinks, we spent 298 kuna (40 euros) which -- to put prices in perspective -- was exactly what we spent on a burger platter, before drinks, at overpriced Dubrovnik just a few days prior.

Meal for Two Persons

Mussels Buzaru	70 Kuna
Octopus Salad	85 Kuna
Shrimp Risotto	95 Kuna
Draft Beer	20 Kuna
Fruit Juice	18 Kuna
Bread x 2	10 Kuna
TOTAL	298 Kuna (CAD$60.8)

For the third restaurant we decided to forgo our landlord's recommendations and found something else on TripAdvisor. I should have known better.

Restaurant Review: KONOBA HVARANIN (Split) (Location Map)

Barely a two minute walk inland from Konoba Fife, Hvaranin boasted a much quieter ambiance with a classy wooden bar counter and friendlier wait staff. But that's where my wife's compliments would end as her Green Pasta with Shellfish, arguably the most common of pasta dishes here in Split, turned out memorably tasteless.


Thankfully their Dalmatinska Pašticada with Gnocchi, a meticulous recipe for marinating and pot roasting beef in red wine and vinegar with a myriad of aromatic vegetables and herbs, turned out fork-tender with a wonderfully complex sauce/puree to accompany the gnocchi. As expected none of our three meals in Split reached the gastronomic heights that the extraordinary Ficović at Ston took us, though we certainly appreciated the assortment of authentic, traditional eateries at prices more sensible than Dubrovnik's.

Meal for Two Persons

Dalmatinska Pašticada with Gnocchi	120 Kuna
Green Pasta with Shellfish	100 Kuna
Green Salad	20 Kuna
Glass of House Wine	30 Kuna
Bottle of Water	25 Kuna
Bread x 2	10 Kuna
TOTAL	305 Kuna (CAD$62.2)

But my favorite gastronomic discovery at Split was not made at any restaurant, but at the cheese counter of the local supermarket. I absolutely fell in love with the exclusive Paški Sir, an aged hard cheese infused with the intense flavour of wild aromatic herbs grazed by the roaming sheep on the offshore island of Pag. Fellow cheese lovers should do your tastebuds a favour and get a wedge (or a wheel!) from the local markets -- I never managed to find it again after departing Dalmatia for northern Croatia.


From Split we would tour the nearby historic town of Trogir, followed by visits to Sibenik and Zadar on our day of departure. With Trogir, Sibenik, Krka National Park, Zadar and the islands of Brac and Hvar all within day-trip distance, even the most ambitious traveler should be able to spend a week here without getting bored, which would be my top reason for recommending Split over Dubrovnik ... unless you're already planning to visit both.

IF YOU GO

Split's airport is served by numerous airlines including budget carriers such as EasyJet from London Gatwick. For those planning a cross-Balkan road trip like we did, highway coaches from Zadar (3 hours), Dubrovnik (4.5 hours) and Mostar (4.5 hours) arrive at the bus station just south of Diocletian's Palace. For those with even more time, it is also possible island-hop to Brac, Hvar or Korcula and eventually reach Dubrovnik by sea.

Balkan Road Trip - 10. Unforgettable Mostar

Every serious traveler would sooner or later encounter a haunting destination that transcends the traveling experience with lifelong impacts on his or her world view.

One of mine was Mostar.


Before presenting my favorite city in the Balkans, I must forewarn that the second half of this post is much darker than my typical entries on regional delicacies and favorite photo spots. Surely Mostar is sensational both gastronomically and visually, but it goes much deeper for travelers willing to learn the painful lessons of humanity from the locals.


For the majority of casual tourists though, Mostar is breathtakingly beautiful as a medieval Balkan town with its distinct exotic charm. Search up images of Bosnia and the results will inevitably show Mostar's Stari Most, a magnificent Ottoman bridge arching 80 feet above the emerald water of the Neretva.


Slender minarets puncture the medieval skyline of 16th century Ottoman houses on both sides of the Neretva, picture perfect and deceptively serene so long as one does not ask any questions about ethnic tensions beyond the tourist district.


Geometric patterns grace the foot-polished cobblestones of 500-year-old Ottoman bazaars, now peddling everything from war memorabilia to artisan glassworks to handcrafted silver at seemingly implausible prices that make Mostar a shopping paradise for hundreds of day-trippers on organized tours passing through between Dubrovnik and Split.


Fiery raki and ice cold beer flow liberally at Mostar's laid-back nightlife district, surprising perhaps for a Muslim majority country except to those old enough to remember a united Yugoslavia when citizens enjoyed the most freedom of any Communist State.


Lip-smacking selections of Bosnian grilled meats await in a carnivore's dream of Pljeskavica patties, Cevapi meatballs, Kobasice sausages and assorted Shish Kebabs, all served here with buttery Kajmak cheese on the side at Cevabdzinica Tima Irma (see map) just west of Stari Most.


Ignoring the artery-clogging side effects, few foodies can resist the temptation of a perfectly grilled Pljeskavica, a cheese-stuffed gourmet patty best enjoyed with a side of spicy onions and a generous dollop of a zesty bell pepper sauce known as Ajvar. To fellow travelers on a modest budget, our ginormous meat platter for two not only cost a reasonable 15 euros, but also gave us enough leftovers for dinner.


In case 3.75 euros per meal still sounds expensive, authentic Bosnian fast food is served at even cheaper rates at the half-century-old local institution of Cevabdzinica Spile (see map), well-hidden among auto repair shops and neighbourhood bakeries in a residential quarter just south of the tourist bazaar.


An impossible 2.5 euros buys a whopping 15 pieces of fresh grilled Cevapcici, tossed with onions and a spread of Ajvar and wrapped in pillowy Lepinja flatbread for a filling and unmistakably Balkan take-out.


North of the Bazaar stands the 400-year-old Mosque of Koski Mehmed Pasha, restored after suffering severe damages during the Bosnian War and best known for its unbeatable view of Mostar's historic quarters from its tall minaret.


Emerging from a claustrophobic climb through a constricted spiral staircase, our eyes were opened to this classic postcard view of the Stari Most, widely considered the most beautiful bridge in the Balkans and hailed as a cliff diving mecca according to the Red Bull Cliff Diving World Series which held an event here just three days earlier.


Another architectural gem is the 250-year-old Biscevic House, cantilevered above riverside cliffs and showcasing elaborate details from the Ottoman period. Its survival of the Bosnian War was almost miraculous considering the 18th century landmark's unfortunate location at the frontline.


As if the photogenic charm, scrumptious regional cuisine and cheap shopping aren't enough to entice travelers, the locals are some of the friendliest and most honourable people we have met.

At East Mostar we visited a farmer's market where -- like many traditional markets in Europe -- prices for fresh produce were not easily decipherable to outsiders. So I pointed to a vendor's assortment of figs and held a handful of Bosnian Marks for the vendor himself to pick out as fair payment. After taking 5 Marks (2.5 euros), the old man began filling a plastic bag with more figs than we could finish, at which point we motioned for him to stop. I didn't know what the fair price for figs were in Bosnia, but this was roughly 8 euros' worth of figs where I live in Canada.

Now the old vendor could have stopped and simply thanked me for my business, but he didn't. Seeing that we did not receive his idea of a fair share of fruit for the 2.5 euros we paid, he started forcefully gifting me a large bunch of his favorite muscat grapes, or specifically for my wife to whom he was motioning. So we ended up with two varieties of seasonal figs pictured above, in addition to the grapes in the background.

Well the figs were sweet, but those complimentary muscats were the most delicious green grapes either of us had ever tasted. I've had excellent muscats especially at Japan's Okayama Prefecture, but these sweet Bosnian grapes featured such a pronounced fragrance on the palate that made it simply incomparable.

And we would have never found out without the gracious vendor.


But that still wasn't our most enduring memory of Bosnia. For that, I have to start with our rental house in East Mostar.

At the time I had little idea about the invisible segregation between East and West Mostar. Our house happened to be located in the eastern hills just above Stari Most, a 5 minute taxi ride upon arriving at the East Bus Station. This was also before I learned the significance of the East versus the West Bus Station.


Numerous times we passed by the local Bosniak cemetery en route to Stari Most, often with me counting the staggering number of people of my age who died as teenagers in 1993. A local said that half of his graduating class were buried right here, and it was sobering to realize that I graduated almost that same year, but in a faraway land with no war.


Next to the cemetery stands this picturesque 16th century Mosque of the historic Bosniak neighbourhood frequented by tourists. Most visitors however don't realize that there is a Croat half of the city on the opposite bank, dotted with Roman Catholic churches and sporting a gigantic white cross on the western hill top.


The frigid Neretva serves as the de facto boundary between the Bosniaks and the Croats, each with its separate postal service, utilities company, telecom provider and perhaps most importantly, school system to teach future generations about their own versions of history.


Each bridge across the Neretva is an invisible border crossing between the two ethnic groups ruling the two sides of the same town. The pictured Stari Most collapsed under intense firepower at the height of the war and was later rebuilt, though the majority of collapsed buildings and mortar shell marks remain unrepaired as vivid reminders of the city's darkest hour.


The most harrowing landmark from the Bosnian War remains standing on the Croat side of the river, menacingly looking over the Bosniaks as it did 25 years ago when Croat snipers used the former bank building as the ultimate vantage point to pick out random Bosniaks on the opposite side.


It is impossible for today's visitors to the Bazaar to fully appreciate the Bosniak fear of walking down the same street during the war, or the heaviness of the local saying that "if you could see the Sniper Tower, the snipers could see you." Croat survivors would tell similar stories of their own struggle and grief, and how there are no winners in war.


"We are all living under the same sky," proclaims a graffiti across the street from the Sniper Tower. Three corners of the intersection still lie in ruins, with the fourth occupied by a memorial honouring the 21 Spanish peacekeepers who gave their lives during the Bosnian War.


Immediately behind the memorial is the most prestigious secondary school in Mostar and one of the most prominent in the entire country. The 21st century incarnation of Gimnazija Mostar was recreated in 2004 from the amalgamation of one Bosniak and one Croat school as an experiment, though students are still segregated along ethnic lines aside from a few peripheral subjects such as P.E. and foreign languages.


For those of us living in Western Europe or North America, the last we heard of racial segregation likely referred to South Africa in the 1980s. Thankfully Bosnia isn't quite at the same level, but even parents may have a hard time understanding the need to teach the sciences in separate Bosnian and Croatians languages, when the two are mutually intelligible and were treated as one when the parents themselves went to school in the former Yugoslavia.


Meanwhile the scars remain, and the entrenchment deepens as ethnically-motivated politicians continue to exploit their own school curricula to magnify the differences between Bosniaks and Croats. Skeptics even suggest a truly sinister reason for not dismantling the ruined Sniper Tower, in case a second Bosnian War breaks out.


After the Sniper Tower we had the most depressing dinner back at our rental house in the Bosniak quarter, downing cans of Sarajevsko while savouring the figs and grapes from our favorite vendor mentioned above. Everyone we met in Bosnia were most welcoming and kind, which saddened us even more as we pondered the future of a deeply fragmented nation still teaching its next generation to separate rather than unite.


The Sniper Tower itself has become a giant graffiti canvas and ground zero for youthful defiance, across from the secondary school where the students themselves have protested against segregation especially in this Internet age. Deep in my heart I do fear for another Bosnian civil war in my lifetime, though there is hope if the youth are better than the adults at learning the painful lesson.


Now you know why Mostar was the most memorable destination of our 22 day itinerary across the Balkans, but for the most heartbreaking reasons. But it is an important lesson to learn even for those of us blessed enough to grow up at peacetime. Even if we can't avoid conflicts, we should at least learn to reconciliate well. Just remember the sobering consequences in the example of Mostar.