This morning I figured out that the island we spent two nights on wasn’t Cres… In fact, we had crossed a tiny bridge on our way down, literally only a couple of meters long, that brought us from Cres to Losinj. I thought that Osor, the town at the bridge, was simply located on a narrow isthmus and that the bridge was crossing a dug up canal made to let the sailboats through – like a miniature version of Panama and the Panama canal – but I was apparently wrong. Different island, different name.
We packed up our stuff today and drove to Megar – located on the true Cres and about an hour’s drive from Cikat, where we were camping on Losinj. During our drive we spotted some vultures circling the skies again. To me it doesn’t matter how often I see them. They’re always special.
We didn’t really plan ahead, or look up time tables for the ferry. As we descended along the mountainside to the Merag ferry terminal, we saw the ferry leave. We arrived at 12.37. The ferry was punctual and had left exactly seven minutes earlier. Bummer! That meant we had to kill some time and wait for the next one, which would depart at 15.00. Our dark van got quite warm in the burning sun, so after preparing some sandwiches, we quickly made our way to the ferry bistro, where we drank a couple of cappuccinos on the shaded terrace, and finished with ice cream for dessert. I think this was my son’s first ever kiosk style, plastic-wrapped ice cream. He’s never learned to associate the colorful chest freezers with the ice cream inside, but I’m afraid that after this trip, those days are over.
The ferry was quick and hassle-free, and around 15.20 we were on Krk, the neighboring island. I really really wanted to go here, for no other reason than that I once owned a pair of Krk locality long-nosed vipers, and these were among my favorite snakes ever. I had never been to Krk, and neither had those snakes, as they originated from a line of snakes that were kept and bred in captivity for years, maybe decades. Even though this was more than a decade ago, Krk still was a huge attraction to me. And now I’m finally here!
Heike located some campsites at the bay near Baska, at the southern end of the island. Baska lies at the end of a green valley, lined by grey rocky mountain ridges on both sides, a feature that is quite striking when you navigate on Google maps as we do. The way down the valley was very beautiful, with parts pine forest, and parts deciduous trees – I’m thinking mostly sessile oaks, but I have to inspect more closely in the following days. The barren rock on both sides is interesting. It’s not that high, nor that steep. Why doesn’t anything grow there?
When we arrived at the site Heike selected, one of the employees informed us that it was still closed for winter, and the only available campsites would be in Krk town, where we arrived on the island. Fuck. I decided to drive to the beach first. If we weren’t going to stay here, then at least I wanted the views for a couple of minutes. We passed a tiny empty camper lot on the right, and a family was having drinks on the reception’s porch. At the beach we turned around, and decided to make our way back, but as we passed the empty camper lot the second time, a man already had stood up to wave at us. He told us we were more than welcome to stay. The place was empty, but had everything we needed, for 17 euros a night. Sold.
We just unpacked, and devoured pizza from the excellent pizza place around the corner. This place is already a win. What happens next, we’ll see tomorrow…