I have been working for the Machine Tool Works in 1982 when
the community of employees under our sales manager had been
organising a tourist trip to Yugoslavia. These people were doing so
every second year, as that time the regulations in our country didn't
permit us to go abroad more frequently. The company bus had been
given to the group free with driver, only fuel was to be paid for. It had
been easy as the chief trade union activist of our general manage-
ment was one of us, a woman with high ambitions and double-faced
behaviour of a black panther.
That year a trip has been organised to the Dalmatian seashore.
Per-head fee has been really low, even, when you counted that
probably the whole family of that trade-union lady has been taking
part free. Although our family have recently bought a house, and our
financial situation has not been cloudless, I wanted to see places
we had to avoid because of our short time and excess baggage on
route home from Ethiopia the previous year.
The trip has been arranged to travel by bus to the town of
Opatija in Croatia, a little to the west from Rijeka, a deep-sea
harbour and former commercial port of the Austro-Hungarian
monarchy. Opatija, under the name of Abbazia, had been the most
frequented seaside resort place of those golden years. The place
remained popular even between the two world wars when it belong-
ed to Italy.
We crossed the border at Letenye. The final leg of the route to
the sea has been beautiful, it stretched over mountains. Great
names of our history -- Croats have been in one country with us for
about 800 years, as they had accepted the Hungarian king as their
own monarch -- as Zerin for our 16th-century hero of Szigetvár and
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his grandson the poet-commander from the 17th century. Or the
castle of Frangepan -- it means French ruler in the local Slavic
language -- overlooking the Fiume (Rijeka) port. At that time the
highway from Karlovac to Rijeka had not been finished yet, the road
looked more dangerous sometimes than it was actually.
In Opatija we had our hotel rooms reserved for 4 days. There we
had time to try the beaches and to make excursions to the peninsula
of Isthria. Our experiences could be divided into two kinds. The
country itself was unparalleled in its beauty, the sea was unique, the
water excellent both for swimming and watching the undersea
world. But there were the other side, the collection of political and
human factors. I would rather not speak about it. The peninsula of
Isthria could be an unforgettable experience in itself. Towns like
Porec, Rovinj, Pula. The land inhabited already before Christ
impresses the erudite visitor not only with its beauty, but also with its
culture. The land had been originally settled by Illirians, its present
population, however, reminds you of the ancient people in nothing,
those people had been driven away by history, only Albanians count
themselves successors of Illirians. Traces of history are visible, they
have been left by Romans, who had built the amphitheatre in Pula
and also by Venetian, who left wonderful classic buildings, but don't
forget the Monarchy, whose naval port has been Pula (called Pola
that time). The beautiful towns and small villages along the shore
were all worth visiting.
On the seaside promenade in Opatija we tried to buy something
taken from the sea, alas, there were no objects from the Adriatic, at
the same time there were treasures from far-away islands as empty
shells of the polyp Nautilus. Nature has created few things more
excellent than that. The stall-keepers reminded us of Arab and
African vendors in their style and aggressiveness and in that they
wanted to cheat their buyers at any rate. Only their prices were
rather uniform, that would be very rare in Africa.
After our stay in Opatija we turned back to Rijeka and from there
drove along the coast past the town of Split, to the settlement of
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Drvenik. There we were taken by ferry to a long east-west-lying
island called Hvar, and on its western end, along the northern coast,
in the village of Jelsa, we found our place for the remaining four
days. During the horrible trip taking a whole day we could continue
our lesson on history. First Zara, by its present name Zadar. Our
king Bela IV reached the sea here when he was fleeing the Tartars
with his family. Split, Spalato in Italian, as it was their naval port. My
saying about the road that it was horrible is far from accidental. It led
us along the limestone precipice, on our left a steep mountain, on
the right the abyss. This formation fortified the wind from the sea. It
tore open the door of the bus when one of the children, my son
among them, wanted to get fresh air in their nausea. The hinge of
the door broke at once. That country is wonderful, but terrible.
We have reached Jelsa only in the evening and all of us were
under the impression of the trip. There was something else, a little
surprise. The man responsible for our reception and room distribut-
ion was not prepared. He asked at once in accented Hungarian: “Is
there anybody here, who speaks Serb?” He wanted to make his
work easier, but he could not
At room distribution -- rooms were in private houses every-
where in the village -- the number of persons in families has not
been taken into account. Even our invalid, an old man with two
sticks, has been given the farthermost house on the hillside. And the
family with two children had to negotiate their accommodation with
the remaining members of the group to have a proper housing.
The next day these concerns vanished. The sea at least was
wonderful and we enjoyed ourselves. Of course, vendors were the
same as in Opatija and offered us ivory bracelets made of plastic
actually. They did not like my scraping of the goods and throwing the
chips into flame. Real treasures of the sea were worth buying.
Experiences have not been all enjoyable. People did not like us
actually. They wanted our money, but not us. I have never sensed
this lack of hospitality anywhere else.
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Our return trip followed the valley of the river Neretva. In Mostar
we have seen and admired the old stone bridge, in Sarajevo the
bazaar and the old town. They have remained with us on our slides
even after their destruction.
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