Photo by Kari Hoerchler

While planning our trip to Croatia, many people expressed their concerns. Why in the world would two young women want to go to a country still recovering from war? We laughed away their fears. Nonetheless, we did come across some dangers in the heart of Hrvatska. Read carefully…

1. Door Jams. Everywhere we went, doors didn’t close properly and some wouldn’t unlock without a struggle. One of us got stuck in a bathroom inside the Dubrovnik Internet Center for a terrifying three minutes.

2. The Tommy Logo You Don’t Know. The trademark for the grocery store chain with branches all over Croatia includes an apple with a face and gloved hands. No arms.

3. Creepy, Crawly Creatures. Brightly colored little animals can pop out from anywhere inside Plitvice National Park. We recommend carrying a camera to document enemy moves.

4. Rocks And Rolling Waves. Unmarked metal stairways lead right into clear waters of the Adriatic along the coast of Croatia. No gates. No security. A silly curvaceous slide, standing 20 feet at its height, was spotted along Lapad Bay, Dubrovnik.

5. The Gardening Old Lady Disguise. Upon spotting our camera, a gardener tending cliffside greenery insisted we take her photograph. As she raised her arms to clear skies above and offered a warm smile, it became apparent she couldn’t be trusted.

6, Here, Drink This. Family vineyard? Shamly shinyard! Without a label, who knows where those grapes grew, pal. Pour me another!

7. Men. In Dubrovnik, they sang to us a cappella. In Korčula, a man tried to get us drunk above his charming jewelry shop. In Split, sportsmen hit us with picigin balls only a day after an intoxicated man at a beachside bar forced us to dance with him to “Light My Fire.” We had to get out before one of us got trapped in paradise in a family way.

Wandering Cheapo Kari Hoerchler is a blogger, budget traveler, and science fiction novelist stationed on Planet Earth. She has recently been spotted on small stages of New York coffeehouses telling tall tales of a tropical island—and future vacation hot spot—in the Bermuda Triangle. Book ahead.

Photo by Kari Hoerchler

Who made Nikola Brajević king of Split?

Oh, that’s right. We did. A recent stay with his family at their aptly named Garden Accommodation was so beautiful, we promptly appointed ourselves subjects for life.

Located at Solurat 22, 300 meters west of Diocletian’s Palace in Veli Varos and less than 200 meters from the Adriatic sea, the Garden provides an easy respite from central Split.

We spent three nights in the “Zelena” stone cottage, for €46 per night. Our own house included a kitchen, bathroom, and private patio complete with picnic table, chairs and clothing line. Lots of love has been put into the doors, beamed ceilings, and shuttered windows, all of which were stained a rich green to match the common area just off the patio. Shared by all guests, the common area is equipped with a stone BBQ pit, and a lovely picnic table.

A café with a terrace is located less three doors down, offering drinks and a gorgeous seaside view. A grocery store, bakery, laundry mat, Internet station, and juice bar are only a 10-minute walk east.

Finally, the Brajević family treated us like royalty, with friendly smiles and their service-oriented penchant for perfection. Nikolai’s father popped in for a moment to offer us a “dobro dan,” and his brother didn’t hesitate to help us out when we blew out the power. (Note: Don’t turn on the water heater, stove and a hairdryer at the same time.)

All hail, Garden Accommodation.

Wandering Cheapo Kari Hoerchler is a blogger, budget traveler, and science fiction novelist stationed on Planet Earth. She has recently been spotted on small stages of New York coffeehouses telling tall tales of a tropical island—and future vacation hot spot—in the Bermuda Triangle. Book ahead.

Photo by tgi friday

The Croatian coast is dotted with over 1000 islands. In a country like this one, there is really no reason to limit oneself to the road. And second to diving right in, what better way to spend quality time with the Adriatic than to take a Jadrolinija ferry from Korčula to Split?

Jadrolinija is Croatia’s national ship carrier. The fleet is made up of ships, car ferries, and catamarans that travel along Croatia’s coast from the northern port of Rijeka and to the southern port of Dubrovnik and even to Bari, Italy. We took the Marko Polo and sailed five magnificent hours together with vacationing families, backpackers, locals, and expats.

Jadrolinija’s schedules have been known to vex many a visitor to Croatia. If navigating these schedules online proves to be too difficult, we recommend popping into a ferry terminal sales office to ask questions.

Tickets from Korčula to Split will set you back HRK82 (€11; $15) in low season and just a couple more euros in high season. It’s even possible to splurge on a couchette HRK176 (€24; $33) if you’re hurting from the previous night’s šljivovica-drinking contest.

Photo by Mediterraneo

Take a few minutes to practice the elementary Croatian language gems on our list below and shine with the Hrvatskas.

DOBRO. DOUGH-bro. Great, good and well.

“Dobro dan” means “good day” and “dobro večer” means “good evening.” In addition, “dobro” is a lot of fun to say. Try it out.

HVALA. Hv-AH-la or VAH-la. Thanks.

We made the mistake of pronouncing “hvala” Hungarian style, with a forceful hv. We were reprimanded by a sweet old man, who told us that we sounded “like Serbs.” Croatian, he explained, is light and rhythmic like the accordian he then simulated playing.

MOLIM. MO-leem. Please; excuse me; you’re welcome.

Multiple meanings and easy to pronouce. Spread the good word around as often as possible.

ANISETTA or PELINKOVAC. Who cares. Remember these words to forget them. Both are awful tasting liqueurs traditionally used as medicine.

One hotelier in Dubrovnik claimed Pelinkovac is only exported because it tastes so bad that no Croatian will buy it. A few days later, a jeweler in Korčula invited us up to his bachelor pad, insisting that we try Anisetta. Wince. Cringe. Gag. And that was before we tasted it.

Wandering Cheapo Kari Hoerchler is a blogger, budget traveler, and science fiction novelist stationed on Planet Earth. She has recently been spotted on small stages of New York coffeehouses telling tall tales of a tropical island—and future vacation hot spot—in the Bermuda Triangle. Book ahead.

Photo by divje zeje

We first read about picigin, Hrvatska’s national sport, while planning our trip to Split. At first exposure, the beach ball game seemed kind of silly. Once we saw it played on a shore at Bačvice, however, we quickly became fans.

A handball game often compared to volleyball, some claim that Bačvice is the only spot where the game can be properly played. Žbirac Caffe’s Duško Cismic Marovic (a Split guide) picigin was born in Central America 6000 years ago using goat skin filled with sand. Today, a peeled and ground-down tennis ball is the preferred implement. Ideally, a match takes place in shallow water as five players, standing in a circle, use the palms of their hands to keep the ball airborne for as long as possible without allowing it to hit the sand below.

Live picigin play translates into tanned, toned, mostly tall guys spinning, body flipping and skidding over, under and along clear water for a beach warmers’ viewing pleasure. Said eye candy goes especially well with a side dish of trešnja gelato from a nearby stand.

U slast!

Wandering Cheapo Kari Hoerchler is a blogger, budget traveler, and science fiction novelist stationed on Planet Earth. She has recently been spotted on small stages of New York coffeehouses telling tall tales of a tropical island—and future vacation hot spot—in the Bermuda Triangle. Book ahead.

Photo by acastellano

The rumors regarding Plitvice Lakes National Park match the velocity of its waterfalls. Guidebooks and even on-site hotel staff are full of misinformation. Even the park Web site is secretive, encouraging potential guests to refrain from contacting hotels directly. During a recent expedition within the park grounds, we were able to make some eye-opening discoveries. Živjeli!

Rumor 1: Nacionalni Park Plitvička Jezera is Difficult to Reach. False. A main highway runs right through the park with bus stops near both entrances.

Rumor 2: The Hotels in the Park are Hidden Away. False. One guidebook implies the nearest bus stop is 6 km away from the main entrance as well as the three park hotels. The Hotel Bellevue is 300 meters away from a bus stop near the Second Entrance and the other two hotels, Hotel Plitvice and Hotel Jezero, are a five-minute walk from the Bellevue.

Rumor 3: Hotel Bellevue is Dreary. False. Brand new 1970s retro furnishings are not the point; the lush window views are. The outside of the hotel is freshly painted, to boot.

Rumor 4: Maps are Readily Available. False. When we visited, maps could only be purchased for a few kuna inside the Hotel Jezero gift shop. We overheard one Bellevue staff member advising a guest that maps are unimportant. Signs point in confusing directions. Signage graphics are misleading at their best and illegible at their worst.

Rumor 5: Start a Waterfall Tour at Station 1. Not really false, but a bad idea. A start at Station 4 allows for easy downhill walking. Also, the approach to the Big Waterfall at Station 1 is more dramatic.

Rumor 6: The Park is Not Handicapped Accessible. True. Venice, Italy is easier to traverse.

Rumor 7: The Waterfalls are Spectacular. True. All the confusion is well worth the trip.

Note that Plitvice hotels don’t have Web sites. You can contact the general Plitvice sales department at info@np-plitvicka-jezera.hr.

Wandering Cheapo Kari Hoerchler is a blogger, budget traveller and science fiction novelist stationed on Planet Earth. She has recently been spotted on small stages of New York coffeehouses telling tall tales of a tropical island—and future vacation hot spot—in the Bermuda Triangle. Book ahead.

Photo by sgoralnick

When you’re done meandering through the narrow streets and climbing the old walls of Old Dubrovnik, retreat from the crowds to the island of Lokrum.

A peaceful island of less than one square km, Lokrum is a nature preserve with no cars or human inhabitants. Save for an old fortress and a Benedictine monastery converted into a restaurant, you also won’t find buildings on the island.

Locals and tourists alike go on pilgrimage to Lokrum to commune with nature. Plant enthusiasts will delight in the lovely botanical garden while sun worshippers should head straight to the island’s beaches for a dip in the pristine Adriatic. For those who prefer to go au natural, there is a secluded beach—check bikinis at entrance—in the southeast. If you climb the rocks all the way around the southern tip of the beach, you can dive into your very own grotto.

Boats for Lokrum depart every hour in low season and every half hour in the summer. Look for ferry tickets just beyond the clock tower on the southern end of Old Town’s main street. It’s a 15-minute boat ride (HRK35; €4.75; $6.50 roundtrip.) The last boat in low season leaves at 6 p.m. (8 p.m. in high season.)

Wandering Cheapo Sunnia Ko is a wanderer at heart and primarily supports this habit as a teacher at Plovdiv University in Bulgaria. She recently returned from a cross-Balkan trek from Plovdiv to Sibenik, Croatia and back.

Photo by XVI iz Splita

A boat show was not on deck when my travel companion and I planned our trip to Split. However, when we blew into town last Friday, the millenia-old city had already set sail for the ninth annual Croatia Boat Show.

When in Rome—or, err, what used to be Roman—do as the former Romans do.

Many Croatians, many more Italians, a handful of Germans, and two Americans—namely, this girl and her friend— got roped into the main entrance on palm tree-lined Riva for HRK60 (€8.10; $11).

At first, it was just pleasant to see men ogle something other than the latest flat-screen teleivisions. That was before we got scared. Our prior boat knowledge didn’t include propellers the size of small cars, motors the size of stadium speakers, or dozens of 007-style yachts with trimmings to match. (Our favorite was the Pershing 90 we christened the “silver bullet.”)

But nothing could prepare us for the Pumpabike. We couldn’t stop giggling as we saw a salesman riding it, bouncing up and down like a clown atop the calm waters of the Adriatic. Slugs make better time and with much less effort. Pumpabikes sell for US$1,000, and the sales people were not amused by our laughter.

The event closed with what can only be descibed as a runway show for “brods.” While music pumped, spotlights danced along the sleek surfaces and spectators lined the coast.

The fireworks started at 10 p.m. with a boom. One lone guy set off shimmering lights with blasting sounds just outside our hotel, Garden Accomodation, barricades be damned. People and cars passed carelessly by ground zero as cats ran in all directions.

Laku noć!

Wandering Cheapo Kari Hoerchler is a blogger, budget traveller and science fiction novelist stationed on Planet Earth. She has recently been spotted on small stages of New York coffeehouses telling tall tales of a tropical island—and future vacation hot spot—in the Bermuda Triangle. Book ahead.

Photo by sike76

When we slept with Toni Bokun and his family, the only two things separating our spotless, freshly painted double room (€45 in off season) from the Adriatic was a little stone palace—circa 1600—and a garden bursting with color.

Tomato plants, strawberries, and tulips greeted us every morning outside of our window, through open doors and past a mellow black labrador who goes by the name of Bassra.

The Bokun family house, with its eight guestrooms and three guest apartments, functioned for centuries as servant’s quarters and horse stables. Today, sparkling bathrooms, lace window treatments, and fluffy bed coverings transport the stone house to modern times.

Over wine from the family vineyard on the patio, Toni covered the rules of the house via amusing antecdotes. Our favorites? The German who picked strawberries, the American who tried to teach him Croat history, and the man who wanted a discount because there wasn’t enough hot water.

Don’t be those tourists. Allow yourself the opportunity to enjoy the sights and sounds away from cell phones and television. While guests breath in the beauty of Dubrovnik, the Bokuns serve full breakfast for HRK35 (€4.70; $6.40, hang laundry on the line for HRK60 (€8.10; $11) a load and give out timeless smiles for free.

The Bokuns are working on a guesthouse Web site. For the time being, they can be contacted at bonitokun@yahoo.com.

Dobro došli, indeed!

Wandering Cheapo Kari Hoerchler is a blogger, budget traveller and science fiction novelist stationed on Planet Earth. She has recently been spotted on small stages of New York coffeehouses telling tall tales of a tropical island—and future vacation hot spot—in the Bermuda Triangle. Book ahead.

Photo by febpanda

Maybe it’s just us, but catching a flight from Budapest to Dubrovnik is a bitch at this time of year—unless one likes flying through London.

After researching major airlines for half an hour, we decided to pack it in a train to Zagreb instead. At Kelati Station, the southeast train station in Budapest, we bought two tickets for HUF7,280 (€30; $40) each.

The journey was six hours but the train car conversation seemed to stretch over an eternity. Riding in cushioned seats along Lake Balaton, the largest lake in continental Europe, we had the pleasure of chatting with Sándor and Martina. The two Huns had about 130 years between them and a treasure-trove of European history to share.

The train itself was clean, providing standard heavy metal bathroom facilities and both smoking and non-smoking cars. We made up for the lack of restaurant car with our own fruits and energy bars. Border patrol officials were friendly—and attractive!—in dark blue uniforms.

Upon arrival in Zagreb, we paid HRK2 (€.27; $.37) to use the toilet and HRK15 (€2; $2.75) to use roomy lockers at the train station. After acquiring a few hundred HRK out of the bankovni automat, we hit the city. Zagreb is small enough to tranverse sans tram. Tram rides, incidentally, are pricey at HRK6.50 (€.90; $1.20) apiece.

The gorgeous Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary (formerly St. Stephen’s) provides free transportation to enlightenment while the funicular up to Markov trg cost HRK6.50. It was a heavenly sight to see both in use, enough to inspire us to surf the Internet at the Art Kaffee along the lively pedestrian Tkalčićeva Street (HRK.25 [€.03; $.05]) and write home about it.

Two tickets to Dubrovnik’s paradise aboard Croatia Airlines cost HRK475.80 (€64; $87) each. Providing between three and four flights daily, Croatia’s national airline also provided a thick, glossy magazine with lots of high quality photos of Istria and the country’s favorite cookie. It reminded us of gingerbread.

Arriving into Dubrovnik’s Old Town at night was spectacular, to say the least.

Toni Bokun of Guesthouse Bokun picked us up, at no charge, blasting Supergirl out of the CD player of his little Euro-sized sedan. Warm and friendly, he wasn’t afraid to get informal fast, teaching us some world famous Hrvatska slang on the way to his garden palača. But Toni and his garden paradise are tomorrow’s story…

Wandering Cheapo Kari Hoerchler is a blogger, budget traveller and science fiction novelist stationed on Planet Earth. She has recently been spotted on small stages of New York coffeehouses telling tall tales of a tropical island—and future vacation hot spot—in the Bermuda Triangle. Book ahead.