I had booked my first night's accomodation in Split from the UK because I didn't fancy trawling around Split with my backpack at whatecer ungodly hour I was to arrive. The hostel "Placida" were the cheapest choice and for 20 euros didn't seem too bad. They even e-mailed me offering to pick me up! I kindly agreed and was somewhat amazed at the service I was recieeving from what seemed a pretty ordinary hostel. Indeed I should have realised that the offer was hollow.

I arrived through customs only to be greeted by half a dozen hawkish old women holding signs and shouting "Sobe" ("Rooms") at me. I tried to smile and calmly explain to the first one that I already had accomodation booked but at this point the remaining hawks decided to descend upon me and grab me in every direction. Becoming rather annoyed, although appreciating that business in the low season is hard, I remained calm and decided the best way would be to announce to them all (and probably most of the port terminal) that I had already booked a room and would they kindly leave me alone. This did not have the desired effect. It only promted the hawks into a frenzy warning me that either my hostel didn't exist or they were not registered. I walked away as quickly as possible hoping to find my lift, but none came and I decided to lug my pack to the hostel myself.

It was actually turning out to be a warm and pleasant day in Split and I found the hostel about ten minutes walk away. However when I rang the doorbell a rather undressed and scruffy women opened the door, clearly still half asleep and annoyed at having been woken up. I explained who I was and that nobody had come to pick me up etc, but she just looked pissed off, told me there were no rooms available yet and that I could leave my stuff and come back at 12. Before I had a chance to actually do so she had scurried off back to bed leaving me to explore Split for the morning.

This I did. I walked around Diocletian's amazing ruined palace in which there are now houses build onto parts of the old palace and which have now turned this into a living open air museum. The streets are incredibly narrow and reminded me of Venice, though obviously without the water. There was certainly plenty to occupy me and I hardly noticed the fact that it was approaching 12. So I gently made my way back up to the hostel in the hope that either the lady had gone away to be replaced by a nice owner or had significantly cheered up. Indeed she had cheered up and was all smiles, offering me juice and biscuits. This wasn't, sadly, at the genuine delight at seeing me but rather that she coudl not give me the room I had booked. Instead one of her friends came round to offer me hers. Ironically she had been one of the "hawks" down at the harbour. Nevertheless I wasn't in a mood to argue and Marija, as she was called turned out to be charming. We chatted at length about her family and tha fact that the war in the early nineties had been so terrible taht she had lost her job and her daughters had fled abroad.

When we arrived at the appartment I was amazed. For the same 20 euros I had landed a small but beautiful appartment all to myself in the old town complete with cooker, TV and radio (she was very proud about the radio). It was the sweetest little place and while I would have liked the company in the hostel, this was too good an opportunity to turn down!

The afternoon was spent walking and walking. I wondered up the Marjan Hill to take int he view and then went in search of the fabled beaches. Sadly I didn't find much sand but it was warm and the water looked inviting even if it was too cold to actually dip into. I returned to my apaprtment in the Old town absolutely shattered.

View of Split from above