We woke early for our excursion to Plitvice Lakes. It was a national park we had been told about by our Couchsurfing friends, Leover and Bernadette when they stayed with us. The photos they showed us of the lakes and waterfalls, of the bluest blue you can imagine had stuck with us and often when planning this trip we had dreamed of doing Croatia, simply because of what we had heard of these lakes.
Now that we finally had the opportunity go, we were taking it, especially since it hadn’t been a part of our original plan.
The night before, we had asked the hostel staff what would be the best way of getting to the national park, given it was at least a two hour drive south east of Zagreb. From what we had managed to find online, most people caught a bus to the park and either stayed there or caught the bus back, which could sometimes be tricky.
Mickey told us that a mini bus could take us there, more conveniently than the public bus and it could pick us up just down the road from the hostel. It would be a return trip and we would pay our entry to the park when we got there.
That sounded sweet and Michael, the other Aussie staying at the hostel also wanted to go.
So with the mini bus booked for us by the staff, all we had to do was be at the corner at 8.50 in the morning.
So bright and early we were up, only to find the sky overcast and threatening rain. It wouldn’t have surprised us. It had stormed the night before to the point where it knocked out the television reception. It had poured with rain and the forecast for today was for more showers.
On the bus, it wasn’t long before the skies opened and rain drops were slapping against the windscreen.
It wouldn’t be much fun walked around a national park in the rain.
Once we were out of the city, the scenery changed dramatically and the countryside we passed through was quite pretty. It seemed every second house on the main road had rooms to rent, cheap too, and some were even giving them away free, obviously if you bought something else like dinner I presume.
The park was extremely popular during summer and had become even more so we were sure since Leover and Bernadette had been there the year before.
As we approached the park, it seemed fate was again on our side as the clouds parted and the sun began to shine.
By the time we stopped, it was almost hot and I was regretting wearing my jeans.
Our driver bought out entry tickets and then we all went our separate ways as we entered the park. There were several trails you could walk, taking as little as two hours to as many as eight.
It was a popular place for hikers and many we passed at the entry were equip with hiking poles. I felt more than a little inappropriately dressed in my thongs.
Our first mistake was getting stuck behind a tour group of oldies down a narrow descending track to the valley floor. As we have discovered, Europeans have little regard for queues, personal space and sharing a path with others and this was no different, making overtaking difficult. By the time we started making some headway, we were at the edge of one of the first of the park’s many lakes.
And it was as described, the most amazing shade of blue, crystal clear and sparkling. Swimming and fishing was forbidden and there were hundreds of fish in the water at the lake’s edge and easily visible.
A waterfall cascaded over a cliff and here the path forked.
The tour group of oldies veered in the direction of the waterfall while we followed the path according to the walking track we had decided to follow.
The mud track was soon replaced by a timber walkway, made of roughly cut logs that actually went over small lakes and waterfalls. There was an abundant of wildlife and hundreds of people walking the tracks.
As we wound our way up the hills surrounding the valley, our view across the lakes only become more spectacular.
We found a lookout with a stunning view of the main lakes and the waterfall that separated the higher from the lower.
As we walked back down, I remarked to Sam how cool it would be to see a bear, as there were some living in the park, as well as plenty of deer.
Sam asked what on earth did I want to see bear for because he would shit himself. I just wanted a cool photo.
But we didn’t see a bear or any deer either for that matter.
Over a hill and heading down towards the upper lake we had seen earlier, a large clearing held a restaurant, souvenir shop and also the ferry departure point. We hadn’t known it before entering the park that a small ferry, more of a tiny barge really, crossed the upper lake at various points and each park entry entitled the bearer to one ferry trip and one road train trip to a different area of the park.
Sam and I decided to have some lunch before we jumped on the ferry as we had no idea what was on the other side of how long it would take us to get back.
The bus was picking us up at 5pm.
We jumped on the end of the queue and watched as a tour group of oldies pushed in front of us, led by their Croatian tour guide who had obviously done this many times before.
Queue jumping is something we have run into constantly during this trip but on this day, in the heat, surrounded by rude old people, Sam and I had had enough. Holding hands, we started to basically barricade the line, not allowing anyone else to push in.
After waiting for at least an hour, Sam and I finally edged to the front of the queue only to have to wait again as another tour guide insisted her entire group make it onto the boat in one go.
We’d pretty much had it at this pint and if the fat lady waiting next to us tried anything funny I was ready to push her big butt into the water.
All aboard and we slowly shunted our way across the lake at the pace of a snail. The water was just as blue as everywhere else within the park.
At the dock, we got our bearings and tried to figure out how we could start making our way back towards the pick up point.
Off the barge, we climbed step after step, and cross bridge after bridge, stuck behind the oldies that had got off on the boat before. When we finally managed to past them, we set off at a brisk pace, passing waterfalls, still pools of water, and crossing wooden catwalks.
Heading in the direction of a road train, we stumbled out onto the road to find a group of at least 100 people waiting as well. Great, another queue.
As we filed to the back of the line, we overheard someone say it would be a half hour wait and prepared ourselves to seethe.
But just as we were debating whether or not to walk back, the road train (a bus with three carriages, set high on monster truck-sized wheels), came around the corner and stopped right in front of us.
We were first on the last carriage and enjoyed the 10 minute ride back to the closest stop to where we needed to be. Then it was just a short walk to the pick up point.
We were about an hour early, and we preferred that to being late and decided to grab a beer and wait.
It was by far the worse beer I’ve had to date and several bees that were hanging around convinced me to leave it anyway.
Back on the bus for the two-hour ride home, which seemed to pass quite quickly as Sam and I once again succumbed to Contiki bus syndrome, which has meant we now fall asleep almost instantly on buses.
In the hostel, we met our room mates for the night, cousins from England before heading out in search of dinner.
We asked the guy working in our hostel that evening if he could recommend anywhere to eat and he suggested a brewery just up the road.
We found it easily enough and it reminded us of the breweries we had visited with Anne-Marie in Dusseldorf.
We sat outside at a large table, surrounded by at least a hundred people of various ages enjoying a mid week drink.
We ordered two of the most alcoholic beers, recommended to us by the waiter and some dinner.
The beer was tasty and so was the food. It was big, there was plenty of it and we wasted no time getting into it.
Full of beer, we were content and then Michael walked in, another Aussie staying at our hostel we had met the night before. He joined our table, ordered some dinner and we all ordered more beer.
It was a good night, with beer, talk of home and politics of all things.
Sam bought a few beers to go, a litre each and eight per cent. There was no way any of us could finish them.
We had an early night because we had to leave in the morning for Split.
Alysia (September 9)
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