I jumped off my air mattress at 6 am when I heard the bells blaring from a nearby church. I quickly realized I am safe and sound after a spooky night at the camp where I was the only customer. After watching the football game I went to my tent and a few minutes later I heard the receptionist closing the shop. I was all alone in a field of olive trees. It was slightly unsettling.
There was one more push to close off Croatia. I headed to Dubrovnik. It was a mild one.
I knew the following would happen but I still did it: I went to Dubrovnik’s old city. Split, in comparison, was deserted. When I got to one of the gates it seemed I was in a line, slowly moving in. Once I got in I tried to take a picture, but it was practically impossible as hundreds of others tried to do the same, one obliviously blocking the view of the other. I quickly escaped the insanity and took a few pictures from a road outside of the city.
I am now close to the Montenegro-Croatian border. I rode from the top of Croatia down to the bottom, on the D8 state road. It’s like Route 66, only shorter. 643 km to be precise. Some of those kilometers were difficult, some not as much. The sky was clear and the sea was blue. Now I can say Doviđenja – Good Bye Croatia!
Today in numbers:
79 km – distance covered
4h36m – riding time
17% – grade leading down to the campsite, thus the same leading up to get out of it
