The Prodigal Son's Return to Croatia

Brucie

We’re finally in Croatia! After some hassles at the Serb-Croatian border, of course, travelling on seemingly out of place Australian passports on local public transport. We were greeted in Osijek by Matko, Sven’s cousin, who took us to our granny flat, and then gave us a bike tour of Osijek with a friend. Amazing sights! We then settled in the town square for a refreshing light beer laced with grapefruit.

That night we also watched the Poland-Czech Republic game, in a sports bar all to ourselves, with lots of highs and lows. It was disappointing to see Polska not make it to the quarter-finals, given that they are one of the countries hosting the cup. Sad face. At any rate, Sven and I will be in Poland to catch the remainder of whatever street parties there may be!

Again, Sven will probably write about everything from his homeland point of view, so I’ll let the camera talk and Sven blabber on... =)

 

Robbie

We took  a bus from Belgrade through Vukovar for Osijek, my hometown. You could see that this part of the land was quite affected by the war, 20 years earlier.

At the bus station we were picked up by Matko, my cousin, and we drove to his sister’s house in west Osijek. He wore a Deustche Rockt t-shirt because he ironically did not think that German was that good. Hearing this, we knew we’d have a good time here with him in Croatia.

We met my cousin Marija’s husband Igor and chilled by watching cable TV. I don’t even watch normal TV at home so naturally I felt lost with all the channels, and quickly learnt how to change channel to the VH1 classic music channel.  (Much to Marek’s disgust, but hey, I can’t help myself) We then had a bike ride to the river Drava and all along it to the city and old city with Matko and his friend Ana. We stopped in the old city and had radler beer with grapefruit, yummeh. Later that night we watched the game, and Poland lost, again much to Marek’s disgust. I personally wanted Poland to win, but I felt like I myself was maintaining all the disgust Marek was feeling that day, so it felt like a win nonetheless.

Sunday, we visited the local protected swampland otherwise known as Kopacki Rit, just outside of Osijek. The softly spoken tour guide left everything for the imagination and we entertained ourselves by taking photos of the surroundings and the signs saying “Do not pass here, there are mines”. Not something you see everyday in Australia! And swimming snakes, but we have those, bigger ones too. Later that day we had lunch with my cousin Silvester and his wife and their new baby in Osijek. Dayum it tasted good having a home cooked meal! Bring on the veggies after all that grilled meat.

Do NOT PASS - On this area is a high danger of mines

Matko (Sven's Cousin) and Marek enjoying the swampish sights.

That night we travelled for Saptinovci, where Matko’s dad has a farm. Monday we walked around the village, much to the interest of the locals and the local protestant priest. i.e. everyone stared at us as we walked the little ones, but it was as expected. When Matko got home from work he took us to a nearby town called Orahovica, which has an artificial lake at the bottom of an old ruined castle. The walk up worked our buns and calves and was very much worth the view from the lookout. I also uncovered the resident creature living there –

The local creature of the cavities!

HUGS TIME, LOVE TIME.

The swim was exactly what we needed as each day in the Balkans has been exceptionally hot. Besides the single bout of rain in Belgrade, we have had nothing but sunshine – it would really suck being in Perth right now.

We travelled back to Osijek for the Croatia-Spain game. Ice cream and the outdoors called so we watched the game from the promenade along the river Drava. Sneaky Aussie boys shifted some couches to face the game. Marek demanded popcorn so I went and bought some from a local. Not realizing the size differences in paper bags, I bought two of the biggest size. These were not finished but the Marek beast was satisfied with Osjecko beer in hand…for a while.

So much corn of Pop.

Tuesday. We visited my grandma, who is quite old and set in her ways. The poor woman was not expecting three strapping young gentlemen and was quite lost, but convinced that Marek’s name was in fact Marko. Matko drove us to the old city and we checked out the local museum. To our delight it had only a few artifacts and was mostly  covered in photos of Osijek’s inhabitants from the early 20^th century.  The faces we observed were priceless, and were worthy of their places on the walls.

Dinner was with the Mraks in Antunovac, a small village just outside of Osijek. Not only did we enjoy my auntie’s awesome cooking but got to hear almost the entire Yugoslav history in summary from my uncle. (Naturally spiced with a good variety of heavy swearing) I could only understand a fair proportion of it and I was struggling, but poor Marek was close to falling asleep. the entire time. What a character my uncle is.

Tickets and a bag were bought for Budapest.  Brucie and Robbie were happy and in love. Peace out O-town, hometown, YO-town.

I See-Saw what you did there!

Walking the young ones, getting stares through the village. Bloody foreigners.

"It is healthy behaviour of young men to want to explore cavities" - Matko Andric

Cool photo, added for zest and with extra zing.