Korcula: The Baba Strikes Back
I am not a fun person to travel with. I tend to be rather anal. I like to know where I'll be staying, what form of transport I'll be taking to get there, and the time it will take. If one of these questions is not answered, I tend to get nervy, crabby, and well.. I freak out and make my travel partner's life miserable.
Korcula was the only place in our entire trip where we were unable to secure accommodation beforehand. On the journey there I kept thinking about how we were arriving late in the day to a small island town near the height of tourist season. I had visions of us ending up homeless.
My weak stomach got tied up in knots fearing sleeping on a curbside. When we finally docked, we decided we'd just have to take whatever was offered as every other boat, bus, and train we had seen from Yalta to Krakow to Croatia was greeted by strangers offering lodging.
I got off the boat first and was met with a small group of people who asked if I needed a room. "Treeyba" (I need) I responded, thankful that Croatian is a Slavic language that has many basic similarities to Russian and Ukrainian. An old lady grabbed onto me first and was ready to cart me away before I communicated to her that I was waiting for someone else to get off the boat.
Ideally, I had wanted to talk with several people, comparing prices or location of rooms, but when anyone else came near me the old woman hissed at them and bared her teeth evoking the other room offerers to apologize to the "Baba" and back off. To further put off other would be suitors, she told them we were only staying one night, and shrugged her shoulders indicating it wasn't even worth fighting over us. Obviously comparison shopping was not going to happen today. Baba meant business.
She kept repeating "5 minutes, 5 minutes" in Croatian, which I took to mean the distance from the port to her home. I had no idea what the arrangement would be either--if we'd be sharing a bathroom, her own apartment or what.
My company, delayed on the boat by picking up the bags, finally emerged and we discussed the price and headed off following the Baba. She spoke no English, so I apologized profusely to him having no idea what sight might lie ahead for us, but he was game.
We followed her to the first of several towers that surround the island. She pointed to it and mumbled and then pointed to a narrow street perpendicular to the tower. We stopped immediately at the first door where she took out her keys and opened up the front door leading us into a clean hallway. She motioned for us to follow her upstairs. She opened the door which held an adorable bedroom complete with it's own bathroom. There was old dark wood furniture all over the place and it looked quite like a room in a grandmother's house. It was particularly charming and seeing how delighted I was, she took her hands and placed them on either side of my head as she kissed my cheek.
She let us know we could stay longer than one night and showed us the other marvels, like an outdoor kitchen and balcony with a beautiful view of the sea and coast before she took me out front to orient me to the area.
She lives on what turned out to be one of the most central streets-it led to St. Mark's Church and also to Marco Polo's home (betcha didn't know he lived in Croatia).
It ended up easily being the best place we stayed at during our journey (save perhaps the Green Hostel in Krakow where we had a view of the theater. I also found five Polish zloty's under a bed).
The Baba just goes to show that those unplanned things can sometimes be the best part of a trip.
Unfortunately, my camera also died in Korcula and all my pics between Yalta and Korcula have not been coming out. So... I guess you win some, you lose some.
But all in all--Korcula was wonderful!
Korcula was the only place in our entire trip where we were unable to secure accommodation beforehand. On the journey there I kept thinking about how we were arriving late in the day to a small island town near the height of tourist season. I had visions of us ending up homeless.
My weak stomach got tied up in knots fearing sleeping on a curbside. When we finally docked, we decided we'd just have to take whatever was offered as every other boat, bus, and train we had seen from Yalta to Krakow to Croatia was greeted by strangers offering lodging.
I got off the boat first and was met with a small group of people who asked if I needed a room. "Treeyba" (I need) I responded, thankful that Croatian is a Slavic language that has many basic similarities to Russian and Ukrainian. An old lady grabbed onto me first and was ready to cart me away before I communicated to her that I was waiting for someone else to get off the boat.
Ideally, I had wanted to talk with several people, comparing prices or location of rooms, but when anyone else came near me the old woman hissed at them and bared her teeth evoking the other room offerers to apologize to the "Baba" and back off. To further put off other would be suitors, she told them we were only staying one night, and shrugged her shoulders indicating it wasn't even worth fighting over us. Obviously comparison shopping was not going to happen today. Baba meant business.
She kept repeating "5 minutes, 5 minutes" in Croatian, which I took to mean the distance from the port to her home. I had no idea what the arrangement would be either--if we'd be sharing a bathroom, her own apartment or what.
My company, delayed on the boat by picking up the bags, finally emerged and we discussed the price and headed off following the Baba. She spoke no English, so I apologized profusely to him having no idea what sight might lie ahead for us, but he was game.
We followed her to the first of several towers that surround the island. She pointed to it and mumbled and then pointed to a narrow street perpendicular to the tower. We stopped immediately at the first door where she took out her keys and opened up the front door leading us into a clean hallway. She motioned for us to follow her upstairs. She opened the door which held an adorable bedroom complete with it's own bathroom. There was old dark wood furniture all over the place and it looked quite like a room in a grandmother's house. It was particularly charming and seeing how delighted I was, she took her hands and placed them on either side of my head as she kissed my cheek.
She let us know we could stay longer than one night and showed us the other marvels, like an outdoor kitchen and balcony with a beautiful view of the sea and coast before she took me out front to orient me to the area.
She lives on what turned out to be one of the most central streets-it led to St. Mark's Church and also to Marco Polo's home (betcha didn't know he lived in Croatia).
It ended up easily being the best place we stayed at during our journey (save perhaps the Green Hostel in Krakow where we had a view of the theater. I also found five Polish zloty's under a bed).
The Baba just goes to show that those unplanned things can sometimes be the best part of a trip.
Unfortunately, my camera also died in Korcula and all my pics between Yalta and Korcula have not been coming out. So... I guess you win some, you lose some.
But all in all--Korcula was wonderful!
posted by Molly | 6:40 AM
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