The Wheels on the Bus

So the trip from Munich to Croatia was brutal. Thirteen hours on a bus sharing a seat with a 300 pound woman with no sense of personal space. The only saving grace were the regular rest stops and the fact that she got off the bus in Rjeka. The other thing that made the bus tolerable was a young man named Marco Vasilj who enjoyed speaking English with me. As it turns out he speaks German, Croatian, English, and Russian. I barely speak English.

We talked about anything and everything and he was so interested in everything I had to say. I like this guy! We finally had an extended rest stop in Zadar (about half way down the Croatian coast) and I bought Marco a beer. The dicotomy of people in Croatia never ceases to amaze me. You have the absolutely rude and standoffish ones (usually the older generations) and then you have the one that would give you the shirt off their back. It's really great when you meet the latter.

I can understand why the Croatians wouldn't want to share this coast, but it's a big sand box with lots of toys to go around. Play nice.