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** CROATIA 2008 - Weeks 3~4 ** |
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KRK, RAB and PAG ISLANDS, ZADAR and the PAKLENICA GORGE: The family-run Bor Camping just 10 minutes walk from the delightful harbour of Krk town was a hospitable base for our time in the Island of Krk. But before leaving, we enjoyed a memorable day in the more mountainous south of the island, close to Baška. The road winds down into a central valley, enclosed by barren limestone ridges, to the village of Jurandvor, an unlikely rural setting for one of Croatia's most significant historical artefacts: the Bašćanska Ploča (Baška Tablet) formed a panel of the rood screen in the tiny church of St Lucije. The Tablet's Glagolitic inscription records the donation of land to the abbey-church by the 11th century Croatian King Zvonimir, the first literary reference to a Croatian king and the oldest surviving Glagolitic text. The original tablet is now displayed in Zagreb's Academy of Arts and Sciences, replaced in Jurandvor church by a replica.
Just down the dusty road, the little resort of Baška sits at the head of its bay, looking out across a panorama of Krk's stark mountain ridges, the offshore islands and the backdrop of the high Velebit massif on the distant mainland. From Baška, we followed one of the way-marked mountain routes up across the formidable limestone cliffs to the rounded summit of Ljubiner, with stunning views south across the turquoise waters of Baška Bay to the barren uninhabited island of Prvić, distant Rab on the horizon, and the snow-covered peaks of the mainland (Photo 1 - mountain walking in South Krk). Losing height rapidly on the unnervingly steep descent route, the rock scenery was magnificent. After such a gloriously fullsome final day on Krk, we crossed back to the Kvarner mainland via the Krk Bridge for the next stage of our island-hopping progression down the Dalmatian coast. The Krk Bridge's twin spans arch mightily upwards from a central footing on the intervening bare islet of St Marko, better described as sturdy rather than elegant (Photo 2 - the Krk Bridge). Back on the mainland, we joined the Jadranska Magistrala (Adriatic Highway), which runs the length of the Dalmatian coast, weaving around headlands along the narrow strip of land between towering Karst limestone mountains and the azure Adriatic Sea. The road gives spectacular views of the off-shore islands, and beyond Senj, the two barren islets of Grgur and Goli, used during the Tito years as prison camps for opponents of the regime. Although never officially admitted, their brutal notoriety betrays the realities of Tito's hold on power. South of here, we dropped down to the tiny port of Jablanac for the ferry crossing to the Island of Rab (Photo 3 - Ferry-crossing to Rab). From the ferry, views looking back to the mountainous backdrop above Jablanac were awesome; not so the initial sight of Rab as we approached the Mišnjak ferry port. The eastern side of the island, blasted by the icy Bura wind, is a dismal, stony moonscape wilderness, utterly barren - no houses, no trees and certainly no vegetation. But surmounting the island's central spine to the more sheltered western side, the change is marked: a contrasting paradise of vines and cultivated land. From our campsite, Padova III, a pathway leads around the lungomare to Rab town, a delightful approach to the old town looking across the waters of the harbour (Photo 4 - Rab town). Rab town is now a well-conserved late medieval Adriatic settlement, shoe-horned onto its slender peninsula. Its architecture betrays 400 years of Venetian rule which progressively plundered the wealth of the 14th century formerly self-governing commune. The Victorian English architect, T G Jackson, said of Rab: "Never have I seen a view that moved me more. The strange medieval town, seeming more a memory than a reality, the still sea and changing light, made an impression I shall never forget. Of all the towns in Dalmatia, there is none more lovely than poor ruined Rab". Sensitive restoration has preserved Rab's medieval beauty for modern-day visitors, and viewed from our walk along the lungomare, it was difficult to disagree with Jackson's romantic sentiments. Even more inspiring was Rab's iconic sequence of four campaniles projecting above the pan-tiled rooftops, viewed from the Venetian town walls. Similarly beautiful was the symmetrical Great Bell Tower, topped with a balustraded pyramid, viewed from the rocky shoreline. And that evening, as the Rab fishing boats headed out to sea for their night's work, we were rewarded with a glorious sunset across the bay (Photo 5 - sunset over Rab). Before leaving Rab, we paid our respects to the Slovene, Croat and Jewish internees murdered by the Italian occupiers at the concentration camp on Rab in 1942~3. The memorial plaque at the Groblje žrtava fašizma records the names of 1,443 victims including families with children aged 1 and 2. With Italian capitulation in 1943, camp survivors joined Tito's Partisans to continue the fight against German aggression. Further down the Magistrala, we crossed from Prizna to our next island, Pag, another straggling and barren archipelago running parallel with the mainland coast. But the weather had changed: a Bura wind was brewing, threatening to halt ferry crossings. At first sight, Pag seemed even more barren than the east coast of Rab: the land (if you could call it that) was just a stark vista of boulders, with not a trace of vegetation in sight. Yet sheep, whose milk produces the island's distinctive cheese Paški Sir (tasting like pecorino) grazed on the boulder field, scouring the barren slopes for scraps of coarse scrub. Over the island's spine, lines of dry-stone walls divided hillsides not into pastures but boulder fields. The Bura wind increased in strength during our night at Šimuni Camping on the sheltered western coast, and the following morning, as we re-crossed the island's high point, we were hit by the Bura's full forceful fury. As we stopped to photograph the stormy Bura cloudscape over Pag and the distant mainland mountains (Photo 6 - Bura storm clouds over Pag), our camper was rocked alarmingly by the wind's force. As we descended towards Pag town, the Bura whipped up surf across the sound. Pag town was deserted. The white stone of the Church of the Assumption in the main square glowed in the soft sunlight, and the delicately carved rose window resembled a patterns of Pag lace, the island's other claim to fame (Photo 7 - Church of the Assumption in Pag Town) . But the black-skirted old ladies who can normally be seen making lace were noticeably absent; when the Bura blows, locals in Pag wisely keep their heads down. Passing the Pag salt pans (salt production was historically the island's main source of wealth), and bracing ourselves against the Bura's force, we crossed the southern bridge which spans the narrow channel separating Pag Island from the peninsula of land projecting north from Zadar. Across the flatter land close to Nin, Croatia's medieval ecclesiastical centre, we reached the village of Zaton and Camping Peroš, our base for visiting the historical city of Zadar. The Bura continued to blow, and the distant line of Velebit mountains still had their malevolent cloud-cap. Camping Peroš was small and pleasantly hospitable; the warden provided us with town plans and timetable for the journey by local bus from Zaton into Zadar. As advised, we got off the bus by the post office to walk down to the harbour and over the footbridge into Zadar's old town. Following the Saturday morning shoppers through the gate in the massive city walls into the market which filled a square just inside the walls, we spent a happy hour wandering around the stalls; old ladies proffered bags of eggs, blet, spinach, wild asparagus, cheese and olives (Photo 8 - Zadar market). And in the nearby ribarnica (fish market) we bought squid for that evening's supper. Despite Zadar being heavily bombed by the Allies during WW2, the old town is now wonderfully restored, with magnificent Venetian buildings and stone-paved streets. Narodni Trg, the central square, was clearly the popular gathering place, filled with street cafes and overlooked by the elegant 16th century Guards' House and clock tower. The Venetian walls are largely intact, and the Land Gate triumphal arch is topped with a monumental St Mark's Lion; tellingly this symbol of Venetian power dwarfs Zadar's emblem below, the figure of the city's patron saint St Chrysogonus. The former Roman Forum is now a rather forlorn scattering of stone remains, but alongside is the magnificently lofty 9th century Byzantine Church of St Donat. The basal layers of the church are visibly made up of random pieces of Roman stonework and column drums salvaged from the forum. Nearby is Zadar's Cathedral of St Anastasia, a perfect example of late Romanesque ecclesiastical architecture. (Photo 9 - Byzantine church and Cathedral of St Anastasia, Zadar) The slender campanile was only completed in 1890 by T G Jackson, that master of architectural plagiarism who modelled his design on Rab's tallest campanile which had so impressed him; his other famous work, the New Quad and Bridge at Hertford College Oxford was modelled on Venice's Bridge of Sighs and his design for the College's Old Quad Staircase uncannily resembles the Renaissance Chateau of Blois. Across at the waterfront, we followed the distant mournful notes of Zadar's unique and recently installed Sea Organ: movement of the sea forces air through a system of pipes set within the stone steps, producing a mystically hypnotic random series of musical sounds, a creative further dimension to the panoramic view to Ugljan Island across the water. After a day of exploration around Zadar's old town, we were glad to relax with a glass of wine (or two) by Trg Pet Bunara, the Square of Five Wells, before catching our bus back to camp at Zaton. After a stock-up of provisions at the Mercator Centre on Zadar's bypass, we set off inland towards the sweeping line of the Velebit mountains which glowed white in the morning sunshine. But first we had to cross the narrow gorge which links the sea channel between Pag and the mainland to the inland sea of the Novigradsko More. The 2 mile long Maslenica Gorge is spanned at the western end by the motorway bridge and at the eastern end by a new bridge carrying the Magistrala. This whole area had been occupied by the Serbian Yugoslav National Army (JNA) and Serb irregulars in 1991; the Serbs destroyed the original bridge in an attempt to sever Dalmatian communications with the rest of Croatia. The Serbs were driven back in 1993 by a Croat offensive to recover the Maslenica area, but the bridge was not replaced until 2005, so restoring the Magistrala crossing of the gorge. We stopped at the bridge to admire both its gracefully arched structure 150 feet above the water, and the breath-taking vista of the Maslenica Gorge with its sheer sides. The deep blue waters sparkled way down below us, and the view revealed the motorway bridge at the gorge's western portal, backed by the stunning panorama of the snow-covered Velebit mountains (Photo 10 - Maslenica Gorge). We continued along the coast for
our visit to the Paklenica National Park, two monumental gorges
which cut deep into the Velebit range from sea level up to the
highest peaks at 1,800m. Visitors are spoiled
for choice of
campsites: 2 larger expensive ones (the better run by the
National Park) and a plethora of small, cheaper and private
sites. We selected Vesna Camping, next to a small pension by the
lane leading to the National Park. Of the two gorges, the Velika
(Great) Paklenica has a well-engineered path which gains height deep
into the massif. We kitted up, expecting rain later in the day. As
you advance into the gorge, 400m high soaring rock walls close in
around you; sheer overwhelmingly high cliffs tower above. Just into
the gorge are the remains of an enormous bunker complex cut into the
rock in the early 1950s as a war-time crisis HQ for Tito; having
just split with Stalin, perhaps Tito feared Yugoslavia would suffer
Soviet invasion as happened to other non-compliant Warsaw Pact
countries. Just beyond this, with the massive rock walls closing in
around, the height gain begins, the path zigzagging upwards
alongside the valley stream. The Velika Paklenica cliffs are one of
Europe's major rock climbing venues, and the annual Big Wall Speed
Climbing competition in May attracts climbers from around the world.
Despite the awesome rock scenery, the light regrettably was dull and
poor, making photography in the grandiose canyon difficult. But as
we gained height into an upper valley, other photographic potential
awaited: the path was lined with flourishing clusters of beautiful
wild cyclamen and carpets of spring violets (Photo 11 -
spring violets in Paklenica Gorge). From this upper valley, the
enormous buttress of Anića Luk towered awesomely above us. We
continued gaining height to reach Planinarski Dom, one of the
mountain huts, from where the massive craggy headwall of the Velebit
range dominated the horizon. At this height, we began to see the
indigenous Black Pines whose sap, Paklina, gives the Paklenica National Park
its name. It had been a superb day in magnificent
mountain terrain, despite the gloomy weather (Photo 12 - the Velika Paklenica Gorge).
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