There are times to surf, and there are times to wax your board.
The next morning I was more nervous than a nun taking a pregnancy test as I fearfully peeled back both my eyelid and the curtain. The result: good enough. The sky looked like a pair of grey school uniform trousers but, thank the Heavens literally, it wasn't raining. I galloped into the shower to get ready for a canter around the city and may have even squeaked out a song or two in celebration. I turned off the shower and got out but something wasn't right, I could still here falling water. I looked at the dry shower head and my heart sank. It was pouring outside. "Goddamn it Maverick", I said. And then almost immediately, "Talk to me Goose". He didn't and I put my trainers on.
Zagreb is the largest city in Croatia with a population a cats whisker under a million, and became the nations capital in 1945. The origin of the name itself is somewhat of a mystery although it comes close to an old word meaning to scoop, which legend has it was the command given by an army leader to his troops when they came across this land. Scoop the land, that is, for water. This part of the country seems to have a high and plentiful water table; yes, army commander, I think I can see why that would be. The city struck me as most similar to Vienna; not as many show stopping buildings of grandeur but beautiful churches, cobbled streets, functioning trams and large open squares peppered with vibrant cafés. There is much more retail here in Zagreb than I have seen before with more 'western' style shopping. There's also a strong market culture and so my first stops were to go in search of them and see what they had to offer. Given a mermaid would not have been out of place in such conditions, the markets were still busy and it was warming to see so many people doing their daily grocery shopping at 9am. Nowhere near warm enough though and I had to keep running.
Meanwhile, at Britanski Market, Andrei made the mistake of touching the fruit and not buying it. He won't do that again.
There was a jolliness about the people I met in Croatia and a willingness to help. I stopped off at a few cafés for tea to chat and life does seem to be getting better and better - their reliable tourism trade playing a large part I assume. One incident of note was when I stopped for soup and the lady, not speaking a word of English and my online guide book falling short, was offering me bread. I selected one particularly nutty one (nothing better in life than nutty bread, nothing) and she pointed at my stomach and seemed to say 'dietico'. Either she thinks I could lose a few pounds or a lovely middle aged lady in Zagreb just invented diet bread and celebrities on Atkins can rejoice. In fact, I should have taken her number and become business partners - that's the yeast I should have done.
The Museum of Broken Relationships is an accidental museum, a concept I had never heard of before. The 'museum' began as a travelling collection of donated items that people had kept from old relationships but now wanted to cathartically get rid of and talk about. It includes teddy bears, key rings, t shirts they were wearing when they met and the story behind each breakup; with a gift shop that offers gifts like 'I heart break ups' mugs and fridge magnets, it's a fun hour to spend.
Basically, if you're going down, take everyone else you have ever met or might ever meet down with you.
I ran home to do some reading, an activity I knew would be futile as the weather was now becoming intensely soporific and I was very happy to lose that battle. 40 winks please, and keep the change. I woke up and wrote my journal (I think I've settled on the fact that blog is an intensely ugly word so I'm breaking up with it). I became very nervous that the weather was having an effect in the tone of my writing, but maybe I shouldn't be. If you're writing your thoughts day to day in real time, then perhaps it adds gravitas to those words if you don't try to hide mild disappointment, something that might get lost were you to wait until your return and right from a more positive mindset after a hot bath in your own apartment. Hmm... Food for thought, and not that diet bread stuff either. I decided on a night in. As Matthew says in the ridiculously underrated British comedy series, Game On, "There are times to surf, and there are times to wax your board." Let's see what the waves are like tomorrow, eh?