20 years ago today - Day 200

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Thursday, September 19th – 3rd Day in Split

It has been a peaceful night without any air raid warnings. If there were any I didn't hear them. There is no place to take cover here anyway.

Danica makes us a breakfast of toast, jams, coffee and figs from her garden. We have supplied some other fruit we purchased in the city and brought with us. This is not the kind of guest house I would normally choose. It is extremely casual and yet cluttered, definitely someone's home more than their business, but it is nice to have a dry, comfortable place to sleep at night.

We are at a loss of what to do today. We wander back to the Terminal Building at the harbour but there is no one there today. Except for the packaging tape on store windows and all the Croatian flags hanging everywhere, it is business as usual as far as I can tell. We finally decide to take Danica's advice and spend the afternoon on the beach. I bring my postcards and journal to occupy my time there writing.

I haven't relaxed on a beach since Oslo, and that was a bit too chill to relax. We are not the only ones there. I am talking with a middle-aged man who has excellent English, a businessman who has heard that the highway south to Dubrovnik has opened this morning. It had been closed because the armed forces base in Ploce was under siege by Croatian forces and the Yugoslav air force has been bombing them every night from their bases in Sarajevo and Mostar. The base has now fallen to the Croatians and the highway has been opened at one's own risk.

It seems that the Yugoslav navy intends to continue hold the city under siege. I feel more at ease about the threat of an attack, which does not seem to be imminent now, but I am worried about my finances. The bank machines are not issuing cash and I only have a few more day's worth. I am afraid could be stuck here for months. It is best I leave town as soon as possible and try to get to Dubrovnik by road.

I mention this to Frenk, Irena and Bojan and they are not too pleased about it. They say I am putting myself at risk to leave the city. There is also the matter that their free accommodation will likely end if I leave. Danica only gave them free accommodation because I would not leave them. They are probably also sad that I would leave them after we have become 'familia'. I am sad to leave them too, but I know this must be done. This situation is likely to worsen and I need to get out as soon as possible. As I joked with them, I need to split Slit before I am split.
We stay on the beach together for a couple hours. I am doing my postcards, at least a dozen of them, and adding to my letter to Mom that is detailing what is happening while I am here. Suddenly the smoke stacks on the missile ship in the harbour start billowing smoke. Frenk is immediately alarmed since he has worked on that ship and knows what this could mean. The smoke starts when the ship is firing its engines in preparation for attack, he tells us. He stands at alert like an animal watching its predator. The smoke continues for several minutes, which causes him to reconsider. There is only smoke for a few seconds if the engines are going into higher gear. If it smokes this long it means that the engines were shut down completely for a couple days to save fuel, he says. This could mean action might be coming soon, but maybe not immediately. The bow of the ship is still pointed towards us, which means it is not in attack position.

Our sense of ease is now shattered. The Slovenians no longer relax staying on the beach so they return to Danica's home. I should leave too, I suppose, but I want to complete more postcards first. I stay for another hour, keeping a close eye on the ship in case it moves.

When I get back, Danica is frantic. She had plans to go to the Red Cross office in town to register our names so that she might get money for putting us up. She leads the four of us a kilometre across the centre of town as the light is fading. We move as fast as we can, knowing that the curfew is in effect and that there might be snipers still shooting from the rooftops under cover of the darkness.

The Red Cross office is closed much to Danica's frustration. It is almost dark and beyond the curfew start time as we make our way back. The streetlights are off and the car headlights have been taped over except for small slits that let minimal light out. That doesn't seem to deter the drivers from going the normal speed. There are so many dangers that our nerves are almost fried by the time we get back, especially for Bojan who is a jumpy as a cat.

The Slovenians try to talk me out of leaving tomorrow morning but my mind is set. They tell me I am only moving towards the enemy, the Serbs, and putting myself in greater danger, but the Serbs are their enemy, not mine, I explain. They will not be concerned about a Canadian. Once they understand I am determined to leave I see the fear on their faces, and the shepherd in me who likes to protect his friends feels terrible. I spend the rest of the evening with them, laughing and telling stories to cheer them up. For Irena and Frenk, I write out the words to "Sweet Surrender" by John Denver, my favourite traveling song, and for Bojan, who has had issues with his parents, I will out the words to "Sit Down Young Stranger" by Gordon Lightfoot.

They don't want me to tell Danica that I am leaving, and I agree with them. Danica will not accept this and insist that I stay. She won't listen to me. I want to thank her personally but this would open a can of worms. I have a huge distance to cover tomorrow to get to Dubrovnik, at least 225 km. This will be the longest distance I have covered in one day ever, loaded or unloaded, and it will be on a mountainous road and about 33C, very hot for such strenuous exertion. I need to get started as early as possible. I pack everything but my cycling gear tonight so I will be ready to leave as early no later than 7 am.


PHOTO 1: alleyway in Split
PHOTO 2: Irena, Frenk and Bojan at the beach
PHOTO 3: Frenk photographing the missile ship