I was guest-listed for the eon-long hiatus-canceling Ljubljana tour stop of peak hipsterdom sister act Coco Rosie on Saturday night. I have never been credibly accused of more than a passive awareness of Coco Rosie, but the funny hats in corsets with sunglasses on brand of early 2000s New York hipsterdom filled me with a little nostalgia for greener pastures and salader days. They sounded great, I had a good time.
Sunday morning I woke up with a headache at 4 am and packed up to catch the 7 am bus to the train station for the 8:17 am train to Rijeka, Croatia. Slovenia is very clean and orderly in some respects. In other respects, the train station is in a completely disabled-person inaccessible state of reconstruction with, generously speaking, limited signage. The nearly secret entrance to the stairway down to the tracks has at its entrance the only source of information you will get on what trains are arriving at which platform. This information will certainly not be featured on your ticket. On the platform two trains sat at opposite ends of the platform. What devilry was this? I spotted a fellow who looked equally confused, and I asked him whether he was also on his way to Rijeka. He answered that he was. After questioning some workers exiting a train, we established which train we needed to board. He had been in Budapest for a Saturday night Metallica concert and hadn’t slept more than an hour since Friday. His powers of conversation, however, were indefatigable. I had a great time talking to him the entire three plus hours to Rijeka, but I fear I may have exhausted my linguistic stamina for the following day (today). Let’s hope the tank replenishes for my meeting at the faculty tomorrow.
Šapjane, the first stop into Croatia on the train from Ljubljana, has a name that sounds like it has something to do with whispers.
Today my hosts took me around the island of Krk. We visited the ruins of the Frankopan fortress in Krk city’s old town, then moved on for some wine in the precipitously constructed town of Vrbnik, wherein was located the vaunted narrowest street in the world, at 43 centimeters.
Klančić - the narrowest street in the world.
Vrbnik also happens to be the site of perhaps the earliest evidence of a written Slavic language in the region, with several sites adorned with glagolitic inscriptions.
It was a near perfect day, with the dry sea breeze constantly blowing over these green and rocky hills. I was put in touch with another major figure from the ex-YU music scene, and my plans through the end of my trip are solidifying. I move to Zagreb on Wednesday following my Tuesday meeting with the Croatian faculty. There it seems I have the opportunity to see the Yugoton archives. Who would have thought such a thing was possible?
Following that, it’s a flight to mythical Sarajevo, and then on to Serbia.
What is the story of this lonely fountain built into the walls of Krk celebrating, I’m guessing, the establishment of Socialist Yugoslavia? Who was there to dedicate it? When was it actually put there? Why is it almost invisible? I guess we know the answer to that last one.
