Five hundred feet above sea level, Anna and I stopped to snap a picture of the Adriatic Sea stretching away from Split towards the Italian coast. The picture would not have been complete without the canary yellow scooter that brought us to this lofty Croatian escape. The fresh ocean breeze was constant, even when we had parked the rented 50cc moped on the sandy cliff. A perfect, yet quite unexpected way to wrap up our weekend trip to Croatia, our two-wheeled adventure began as a last minute whim.
With an hour and fifteen minutes left until our bus would leave for Zagreb, the passing mopeds inspired the question “Where can we get one of those?” A quick glance around answered that question. Two different scooter rental shops advertised their rides on the sidewalks out front. We raced towards the closest one. A copy of my passport and 80 Kuna (15 American Dollars) soon sent us on a relatively high speed jaunt out of the city.
Pulling away from the curb, we immediately started the search for others from our group. Moments later, a short blast of our horn left Liz Caskey wondering “Who could I have met last night that drives a scooter?!” We only later heard of the confusion we caused among the small group of Miami students. Nevertheless, then was not the time to fraternize with our peers who had chosen to mill around the boardwalk for the last bit of the trip. We were on an adventure.
Weaving in between pedestrians to reach the main road, the challenge was to avoid any scooter antics that would brand us as more Americans. But we made it with pleasantly few mishaps, considering my previous moped driving experience: none.
And so we were off, heading north towards the suburban area home to many of the region’s famous beaches. Suddenly, the funny little European cars sharing the road were no joke. Each compact car became a missile several times our size and weight. Not to worry though, the lawnmower sized engine provided a surprising amount of torque capable of pushing the scooter right along with the light traffic.
In the summer heat, the wind and excitement of the ride confirmed that it was much better than walking. With the deep turquoise water to the left and mountains on the right, it’s hard to imagine a better way to spend $15. While winding higher and higher up the rural streets, the thought of our upcoming bus ride away from this amazing place took to the back seat.
We didn’t stop when the pavement turned to gravel. Eventually, though, a sandy ledge prevented further travel. But what a perfect place for a snapshot of the Adriatic.
With an hour and fifteen minutes left until our bus would leave for Zagreb, the passing mopeds inspired the question “Where can we get one of those?” A quick glance around answered that question. Two different scooter rental shops advertised their rides on the sidewalks out front. We raced towards the closest one. A copy of my passport and 80 Kuna (15 American Dollars) soon sent us on a relatively high speed jaunt out of the city.Pulling away from the curb, we immediately started the search for others from our group. Moments later, a short blast of our horn left Liz Caskey wondering “Who could I have met last night that drives a scooter?!” We only later heard of the confusion we caused among the small group of Miami students. Nevertheless, then was not the time to fraternize with our peers who had chosen to mill around the boardwalk for the last bit of the trip. We were on an adventure.
Weaving in between pedestrians to reach the main road, the challenge was to avoid any scooter antics that would brand us as more Americans. But we made it with pleasantly few mishaps, considering my previous moped driving experience: none.
And so we were off, heading north towards the suburban area home to many of the region’s famous beaches. Suddenly, the funny little European cars sharing the road were no joke. Each compact car became a missile several times our size and weight. Not to worry though, the lawnmower sized engine provided a surprising amount of torque capable of pushing the scooter right along with the light traffic.
In the summer heat, the wind and excitement of the ride confirmed that it was much better than walking. With the deep turquoise water to the left and mountains on the right, it’s hard to imagine a better way to spend $15. While winding higher and higher up the rural streets, the thought of our upcoming bus ride away from this amazing place took to the back seat.
We didn’t stop when the pavement turned to gravel. Eventually, though, a sandy ledge prevented further travel. But what a perfect place for a snapshot of the Adriatic.
Mike,
ReplyDeleteThis is not just a mini-adventure, not just a "break free of the pack" moment. It's also a well-written tale.
Good organization. A little fear (compact cars as missiles!) to add momentum.
Nice job.