Photos of Croatia and text by Corey Amaro
Mid August is Europe's exodus to the sea side. The freeways are jammed packed with overloaded cars, with miles and miles of determine faces hoping to find a place to surrender under the sun. We joined the exodus at the Italy/Croatia border, one of the thousands that day standing still in the scorching sun.
We had no idea where we were going, though we had heard that Croatia was a feast for the eyes. French Husband was skeptical mainly because he comes from a land of plenty and because of the Yugoslavian images fed to us by the news media fifteen years earlier. We wondered what was it going to be like? Our curiosity tripled when we stood at the border with half of Europe in front of us, and the other half behind us: This place has got to be good.
When I saw the sea I knew paradise was close at hand, also knowing in an instant that it was not going to be easy to find a place to stay. I started to pray, "I trust that you will lead us to the place where you have made ready for us, where we can experience this land authentically And please do not forget that it cannot cost an arm and a leg, or more than 80 euro. Thank you."
With that prayer said, I continued to sweat, feeling like someone could bake a cake inside of my motorcycle gear. I tried to cheer French Husband who was growing a grumpy face, not to worry that we were going to find something amongst the million of other tourists.
We turned away from the coast and headed inland, with bewildering thoughts that it was not going to be as lovely away from the seaside.
How naive we were….
At this point we had been riding for over eight hours, most of it crawling between traffic. I could not longer pull off my leather gloves to take a photo, because they were baked on my hands, when I finally managed to pull them off my hands looked liked someone who had been swimming for two weeks, or better said my hands looked liked plastic bubble wrap.
Looking at the useless map we had, we could not find any of the towns perched on the hills all around us, the GPS did not work in most of Eastern Europe so we did not even turn it on, instead I walked up to the nearest home and knocked on the door, nobody answered. French Husband saw a gas station across the street, so we went over to it.
We filled up Willow, bought some Chocolate Coconut Ice cream bars (that I am going to miss when we get home), we asked the gas station attendant if he spoke English or French. He spoke English, he told us he had room in his house, the house in which I had knocked on the door earlier. He gave us the key and we went in and took a shower. It was the best shower of my life! Later we went downstairs, out into his garden and had home made Grappa, one was made with wild herbs, another with cherry and the third, yes three!!! was made with.. I don't remember… was it almond? I think I was in La La Land at that point. Which is easy to get to when you do not drink but want to be polite to the host who is serving you his homemade Grappa!
Grappa puts a kick to your step, our weary bodies felt like dancing, our new found host Ricardo, encouraged us to walk up to the perched town for dinner. He told us to take the steps, the locals he said use the steps "…there are only one thousand one hundred steps to the top."
This part of Croatia is know for truffles and a truffle dinner can be had for less than a song; I had polenta with truffles for 11 euro. If for no other reason alone I would live in Motovun for the truffles.
We pranced up to the top of Motovun.
Motovun at sunset.
1100 steps leading up to Motovun.
On those steps in Motovun we meet Olja and Milan. A couple who had fled Bosnia during the war… and years later have returned to Croatia. A couple who had a depth of experience evident in their eyes. They invited us to spend the next night with them, to share their home cooked meals and their friendship. We ended up spending two nights with them.
We were captivated by what they generously shared with us. Their story was softly woven in their actions, their smiles and the way the lived in the moment. Olja and Milan met in Germany, lived in the USA, traveled widely, they are architects. We had many stories too share, similar feelings of what it is like to be an expat, to let go of traditions, to hold on to traditions, to miss your family, to feel your family in a person you meet, to hold your door open, to say yes to the spirit of goodness that is in everyone and thing. To not be afraid of tomorrow even if that means your homeland has changed its name.
Of course their journey was far more mountainous than mine, and I was humbled by their courage.
On our last evening with them, we went into the village to have a drink at their friend's pizzeria. The pizzeria is on top of Motovun and has a spectacular view. We sat outside and the whole world passed by our table, Milan and Olja knew them all. Thirty or more people gathered to talk about their day the sky threatened rain but could not damper the mood.
As the conversation went in and out of English, Croatian, Danish, Italian, German, French and back to English the thunder started. In the distant horizon you could see it lighting up the sky, and call out in its own powerful language: BOOM, as if to say I am comin' take cover. Though instead of returning home, people gathered around the wall overlooking the approaching thunder as if it were a theatrical show. As the storm grew closer the air cooled off, my senses were heightened by the thunderous crack of the whip, my sight saw the flashing disco ball of fire, the smell of rain refreshing, laughter filled the nooks and crannies, my taste buds knew this was going to fill me in a way that I would not know hunger for a long long time.
We saw the thunder hit the ground, and roll and burn. We laughed. We saw the other hillside towns lose electricity and go dark, we saw the wall of water fast approaching and cheered it on knowing we were next in line and going to be soaked. We stood and waited, enjoying the moment…begging it to come on, we were not going to run for cover.
Then the storm was over head, the lightening flashed, the thunder cracked, we howled, and it poured rain, an instant river ran down the 1100 stone steps and pass the pizzeria! We ran into the Pizzeria, the electricity went out, and the party began. These people know how to celebrate a good thing.
And in that wild wonderful moment I thought this is life, this is community, this is freedom, this is how it should be… to face whatever comes your way with open arms, trusting that the big ball of energy in the sky called love has made a place ready for you and NOTHING can take that away from our hearts.
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