Crosses along the coastal road

Day #70

Thursday, July 09

From Klek to Vojskovo

Country: Croatia

Shortly after I fell asleep yesterday, or was in a twilight state, the sky closed in again and it started to rain.

Unfortunately, I was a bit careless with the rocky ground and only set up the tent temporarily.

I then had to secure it urgently. Armed with a headlamp and an umbrella, I added extra guylines to the tent, anchored with heavier stones.

It worked, and my clothes mostly stayed dry.

The sleeping bag got a bit wet, but I was able to hang it over my bike to dry in the sun this morning.

Then I continued along the coastal road.

The view is beautiful, on my left the water with islands and bays in front of it, on the other side the mountains rise up.

Only the traffic is annoying.

Many people are considerate, definitely more than in the previous countries, but some are still reckless and overtake closely, others very closely.

This makes it a bit exhausting, and I realize that I have not slept enough in the last few nights; otherwise, cycling is pleasant.

The greatest variation is the elevation of the view over the water.

It is a constant up and down.

Over time, I begin to guess from which country the cars come that overtake me.

There are country-specific differences that I notice, and too often I'm right.

If someone slows down or keeps their distance, it is often a German or Austrian license plate.

Since the most bikepackers are from those countries, besides France, and there are only a few left here, I suspect that there might be a connection.

Exceptions confirm the rule, which applies to everyone.

Little surprising that there are many crosses by the roadside.

On a purely factual level, they are mostly male first names and it is not a phenomenon limited to this coastal section; there have already been too many memorials in the previous countries.

In the evening comes the variation.

At first, I can go shopping in a well-known supermarket chain in Makarska. And a bread counter definitely has its charm.

Then I walk nicely along the beach promenade filled with tourists until the path becomes exciting.

It gradually turns into a path that winds over roots and rocks along the coast.

Beautiful route for walking there.

Which I then have to do, as forced.

In the next town, it's overcome, and back on the regular road, I can take the last incline, then quickly head towards the campsite I have chosen.

There are still free spots, and the first things to set up are the tent and hammock.

The former for sleeping in, the latter as a luxury so I can later lie down comfortably.

But first, I go down the rocky steps to the sea; a little cooling is a must.

Finally, because during the day I was either too high up, or it was already too late for a refreshing swim.

Then I shower and head to the restaurant at the campsite; pizza sounds better to me today than cooking for myself.

It is unavoidable to eavesdrop on the conversation at the neighboring table.

They are discussing, among other things, that it is impossible to ride a bike here.

I smile to myself and think my part about that, but I am too tired to convince them otherwise.

Afterwards, a quick phone call with work regarding the duty schedule in August is necessary. Then I comfortably chat with Jenni while lying in the hammock before it’s urgently time to move into the tent.

Song of the day:

Fence post - Crosses