Friday, September 16, 2011
20 years ago today - Day 197
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Monday, September 16th - Baska to Rijeka, 11,620 km
This may be the most important day of my 37 years on this planet. I pray I can make it to the ship in Rijeka before it leaves at 5 pm. As soon as I eat I begin the ten kilometre climb through the valley north of Baska to get to the top of the island. It is a beautiful road but I am impatient. My urgency borders on panic. I am doing the best I can, and only time will say if that is good enough.
The last kilometre is steeper and requires a stiff effort to climb it. I pause at the top to catch my breath and survey the amazing view of the valley, Baska and the white Dalmatian Coast behind me. Now I glide back down to the sea, to the village of
Komic, and then by the town of Krk. The side road I am on is a tiny unnumbered one with almost no traffic. It climbs above Krk without going into it. It is one of those beautiful days where the views are incredible. I get to a height of 180 m at the village of Bajcic, where the side road joins a highway that leads to the north-east corner of the island where the bridge connects to the mainland.
It takes me almost an hour to reach the bridge. Shortly before it I pass the airport that is set with explosives to destroy the runways if the Yugoslav air force tries to land. It gives me the creeps to be riding beside it but nothing as bad as when I begin to cross the big Krk Bridge. I am scanning the coast road as I cross hoping not to see any tanks about to cross. I make it safely with a sigh of relief and commence the ride north to Rijeka.
The road takes me through the town of Kraljevica, and then around a headland into a bay with steep, 200 m sides. The road follows the shore until the north end of the bay where it rises above the town of Bakar to cross a 230 m pass. It is downhill from here 10 km into Rijeka, but it is already 3:30 and I am getting anxious again.
Rijeka is a mid-sized city of a 120,000, known as Fiume to Italians and Hungarians. It is set on a fairly narrow coastal plain facing west, with a steep wall of hills behind. Regrettably, I have very little time to give it much consideration. I find a travel agent who sells tickets for the ships. Then I wait like a desperate client outside a washroom trying to hold back the runs. The ten minutes until it is my turn to be serviced pass like an eternity. So do the next few minutes until the agent issues my ticket at a glacial pace.
With my ticket in hand I race to the harbour to find my ship, the Lubritanica. I am frantic by the time I find it as it is after 4:30 and the ship sails at 5. In fact, I am the last passenger to be let on. The loading gate is being raised as I lock my bicycle to a railing on the vehicle deck.
I have a small windowless cabin two levels above the parking deck. I shower, change and set about exploring the ship. It is a decent size, with maybe 500 passengers. There is a comfortable lounge where I relax. I feel so much better having made it to the ship. I am not out of the war zone yet, but passenger ships are not usually targets and a day I will be in Dubrovnik, well beyond any trouble that has occurred so far and only a few kilometres from either Bosnia or Montenegro, which are both still part of Yugoslavia.
In the lounge, I meet Frenk and Irena, a lovely Slovenian couple in their early 20s, on their way down the coast to help a friend build a cabin on the island of Brac, opposite the city of Split. They invite me to have dinner with them in the restaurant. Irena has a degree in economics. Frenk has just finished a two year term in the Yugoslav navy. He was so close to finishing his contract when Slovenia declared its independence that he decided to remain on. He has been a civilian for only a few weeks.
At 9 pm, the ship pulls into Rab harbour, where I would have boarded the ship had I caught the noon ferry from Baska yesterday. I am glad things have worked out this way as I would not like to wait in the dark for the ship and I got to spend a lovely evening in the truly enchanting setting of Baska.
I go out on deck while the ship is docking. I meet another passenger, Dushko, who comes to lean on the railing next to me. He is on his own on the ship and feeling a need to talk to someone. He has been a merchant sailor most of his adult life. He's my age now, and he has the rugged, sensitive look that many Slavic men have. I like the look and he is friendly. We talk for an hour but then retire to our separate cabins to sleep.
Later in the night the ship stops in Zadar, and after that Siblenik, or at least I think it does. I don't hear any bombing or machine gun fire. I sleep through the night soundly in the false certainty that I am safe. I have agreed to meet Dushko for breakfast on deck at 7 am while the ship is in Split harbour. From Split, it is only six hours to safety in Dubrovnik.
PHOTO 1: WARNING: cows on the road
PHOTO 2: rock cut at north end of Krk
PHOTO 3: Krk Bridge to the mainland
PHOTO 4: approaching Rijeka
PHOTO 5: above Rijeka
PHOTO 6: Rijeka harbour
PHOTO 7: the Lubritanica
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