Tomislav amongst friends and jumbo pizza in Narodni trg after 3 portions of local pide type bread(soparnik)
I woke up many times in a hard bed last night and my eyes feeling tender. Off to Diocletian’s palace to tell him straight I am tired. The old lady of Split offers me chocolate drink in the morning, but with puffy eyes and tired senses I am in search of kava.
The look that lacks warmth. It requires a smile or at least something from the eyes.
So very dark, but maybe one is slightly fair? In her grey pants and tight teeshirt.
Processed cheese cake charm. Piddling/pissing self importance…
Just outside the east gate of the palace is the cheap and tacky clothing vendors
I think the same vendors have been using thus wall since most ancient times. Selling shit to ancient tourist. Bits of relics and lavender pomade to ward off the plague. Blessings from witches and peasant food dressed up as quaint or ancient and over charged.
In the green Market there is the same foodstuffs and same prices on each stall. How does competition not work here?
I eat a carob pod
and ponder on some fruit and breads.
Got bread and must discover name. And eaten huge giant peach 4kuna.
No prickly pears. Devils food…
Discarded peach kernel and bean pods maxima weighing scales and sauerkraut in barrels and pek by the gallon. Two women selling cheese and garlic. A huge and juicy apple 2 kn.
Helped zwei nova zealander to cross the road to a blue hostel. I am now heading towards the beaches.
Beef soup. Ten kuna. Govedja juha. Deset kuna. Dobra.
Bread is splitski like a huge stotticake.
Juha is like French onion soup without the onions!
Soparnik is the bread.
Found the sandy beach and came to chill in the sun. Jeans a negative. Teeshirt off. Water shallow but strangely choppy. I think this one is known for guys playing handball in the water. Bačvice.
Container ships leaving and a ridge of an island on the horizon. I think Hvar.
Boys shouting with the exerting.
Young ones peel mandarin and teenagers peel their skins to reveal burnt edges. Old ones sag and sway but capture melanoma deep.
The beach is composed of cigarette butts and dirty sands but this prevents none from basking supine.
All the young mums smoking and over glamourously dressed in a bar with just a handful of clients looking longingly at the yacht and the music – unbreak my heart…too tragic!
Did autumn come dreary and prematurely in Cambridge as I awaited this journey of self.
Back along messy beach to heavy tonnage and handball