A Zebra in Split, Croatia

(June 30-July 2) The flight from Pescara, Italy to Split, Croatia was one of the shortest flights I have ever taken. Just when we reached cruising altitude Matt put his tray table down to read and the flight attendent came quickly over to replace it to it's secured position. We were already starting our decent the attendent said out of the side of his mouth as he rushed down the aisle. With our bags and some Croatian Kuna burning a hole in our pocket we took a shuttle bus to the the old town of Split.

Before we even left Italy Matt made arrangements to stay in dorm type rooms with Danica. The phone conversations between the two of them were priceless. Zibilich is not a name that rolls of the tongue easily for those untrained to use the glorious word and nearly everytime we give our name somewhere we inevitably are forced to spell it out. Matt always starts out the spelling like this, Z as in Zebra. Danica heard just the Zebra and rolled with it. Matt Zebra. Already we could tell that Croatia was going to something. Danica's directions off the bus were vague. We were told to just wait and that her husband would come and pick us up. No description of him let alone his name.

The bus pulled into the Old Town depot and people quequed up to get on the bus. We're used to seeing people jockey to get on a bus or a train before other people get off so this did not seem out of the ordinary. It wasn't until we disembarked that I realized the real intent of the mob, they wanted us to take a room with them. It was a motely crew of people with little signs on lamented pieces of paper beckoning us to take a room with them. Trying to turn them down and gather our bags was an ordeal and the whole situation made me alittle bit uneasy. Some of the people were so old and frail that it broke my heart to turn down a room from them because they looked like they needed us and our Kuna. We moved away from the masses and Matt called Danica again. Her husband would be there in 20 minutes to collect us. Great. Still the zombie like people approached us, "is there a problem? no. do you need a room? no. what are you paying for your room? it's already arranged. do you need help? no. " On and on like this. We tried not to make eye contact but we managed to piss one of them off.

I told Matt that if in 20 minutes Danica's husband does not show up we'll take a room with one of these people. One of the women who had initially asked us for a room and we we declined turned nasty said she knew Danica's husband. Turns out he had been standing there then entire time literally right next to us. He was even apart of the mob that swarmed us off the bus. He walked us briskly through the Old City to the rooms that he and his "woman" rent out. We circled up a couple flight of stairs and were lead into their home where Danica showed us our room. Danica was a loud, cheery woman who welcomed us with open arms. Her bright and animated personality blinded our sense so much that when we saw our room we couldn't mutter the shock that we both were feeling. There were two full sized beds in the hot, stuffy room and we got the one closest to the window. The room was barely big enough to fit the beds and all of our bags so I locked my bag ontop of the bed as we went out. The bathroom was in a sad state, over used by the family and travellers alike. It was by far the most cramped and uncomfortable circumstances we've bedded ourselves in yet. Matt look apologetic for the room but I saw it as a golden opportunity to relish in the humor of it. Of course no crazy house would be complete without birds screaching in our ears the entire night. I don't know what it is with us and birds and why they torment and harass us so. Danica, we learned, not only took in people, she took in animals. We knew that she took in Zebras and we were happy for that.