Krka National Park

For today, I booked a full-day bus tour from Split, Croatia. The primary destination was Krka Waterfalls in Kirka National Park. The tour took in the park and the falls in the morning.

After leaving the park, we went on to the nearby town of Skradin.

But first, we had to get to Kirk National Park. The bus took a little over an hour to get there. On the way, we passed by some mountains. And in a few cases, we passed through some mountains, in tunnels.

The mountains fall well short of the height of say, the Rockies or Alps, but they should be proud of themselves and their height, nonetheless. They need not take a backseat to any mountain. (It’s important to build the self-esteem of mountains lest they shrink in embarrassment.)

Few of the mountains have many tall trees on them. Scrub, shrub, and rock dominate their surfaces. “Rugged” is the best word I can think of to describe them. Then again, I’m not very good at thinking of adjectives to appropriately describe mountains, rivers, lakes, oceans, seas, forests, other landscapes, skies, buildings, animals, machines, or people. Or a great many other things. So “rugged” might not paint the most accurate picture in your head. But that’s all I’ve got. 

In a couple of locations, a row of wind turbines was arrayed along the ridges of the mountain ranges. Some people think wind turbines are ugly. To the extent you can believe his public pronouncements (not at all), Donald Trump is one of those people. But he has also said that wind turbines (which he insists on calling windmills) cause cancer and result in whales washing up on shores dead. So, ignore him. He talks crazy talk.

However, there are other people, people with a reasonably firm grasp of reality, who agree that wind turbines are ugly. I beg to differ.

I should stop begging. It’s unbecoming for a schlemiel of my stature. Instead, I just differ.

I find modern wind turbines majestic. And a chorus line of them along the top of a mountain ridge, with their arms gently twirling in rough synchronization, perform a graceful dance.

I didn’t take any pictures of the mountains because I can never get pictures taken through the window of a moving bus to look good. Sorry.

But enough claptrap. On to Krka National Park.

Krka National Park

As the bus pulled into the park, the tour guide got onto the bus’s speaker to tell us a little about it.

Kirka National Park is fairly big, I forget how many square kilometres. We visited only a small section of it, which is only I forget how many square kilometres.

(I hope no one ever searches this whole journal to count the number of times I wrote “forget” or “forgot.” I’d be mortified.)

However, the part we visited contains the reputed star of the park, Krka Waterfalls.

Krka Waterfalls is the lowest of seven falls in the park (yay! I remembered that!), but it’s reputedly the most beautiful. The tour didn’t take us to the other falls, so I can neither confirm nor deny that assertion. 

After we got off the bus, the guide started by showing us where to find the, not starring, but most important attraction, the toilets. Then again, maybe it’s just me, an old man, who found it important.

After that, the guide left us alone to explore and then meet up at the agreed meeting point and time.

Leaving us alone did not present a navigation problem. The park has a boardwalk to follow through the forest. It also winds around some small lakes and crosses some streams.

I think those streams are part of a much larger river (the Krka River) that splits into several channels through the forest.

At a few points, those streams/river fragments roaringly rush over rad rapids. Alright, that goes overboard, particularly the vernacular “rad.” But you know what I always say. Never pass up an opportunity for alliteration.

I know, I know. You probably find it tiresome that I always say that. Sorry. I should find some other patter.

Never mind that. It may be less alliterative, but it would be more accurate to describe some of them as small waterfalls rather than rapids because, at some of the rapids/falls, the water tumbles pretty much vertically over a small rock face rather than just flowing rapidly downhill over rocks. 

About that boardwalk. It sits on stilts above the ground. At points, it’s at least a metre up, maybe two. But there are handrails along only a few short sections. The protective barriers are mostly over streams, but they’re not at all of the streams.

The boardwalk is not all that wide, enough for a couple of people to walk side by side, without much room to spare.

And yes, even though those may not be anywhere near dizzying heights for most people, it is enough to set off my acrophobia. Fortunately, the park requires that everyone walk in the same direction along the boardwalk. So I walked down the middle and managed to complete the walk without my heart bursting out of my chest. I even paused several times at points without handrails to take in the views and snap a few photos.

The boardwalk ends at our tour’s agreed meeting point, across a small lake from the base of the mighty Krka Waterfalls.

Krka Waterfalls

The Krka Waterfalls is indeed mighty. (Not as mighty as, say Niagara Falls, but waterfalls need esteem boosting too.)

Kirk Waterfalls is powerful enough and has enough water volume to convince me that those streams are indeed part of one river that comes together to create the falls.

Downstream from the falls, I saw only one wide river, the Krka River, not a series of streams.

The falls are gorgeous, spreading out over an irregular rock face and creating a wide, white veil in front of it.

Lunch

After leaving Krka National Park, the bus took us to the riverside (Krka River) town of Skradin. There, the guide set us free for either an hour and a half or three hours and ten minutes to do whatever we wanted. For me, the choice of what to do was easy. I chose lunch.

I ate on a terrace at a restaurant near the centre of town. (It looks like a small town. I think everything is near the centre.)

I ordered a glass of wine and pasta with cuttlefish. Before bringing my order, the waiter brought a free bruschetta. He shouldn’t have bothered. The bread was a toasted slice of white bread bread. And when I say white bread, I don’t mean a nice French loaf or baguette. I mean the sort of bread that you’d get if you bought Wonder Bread. The bruschetta tomato topping was so-so.

The pasta was good, but not great. Hey, not every lunch can be ambrosia. The gods seldom share their food with me. Selfish bastards.

You might have noticed that I said above, “The guide set us free for either an hour and a half or three hours and ten minutes.” What’s up with that, you might ask. The tour included an extra-cost optional activity in the afternoon.

I didn’t know when I booked the tour that it was optional. The platform I booked it on sold it as one complete tour, without suggesting I could opt out of the afternoon activity.

That was fine because, given the opportunity, I would have taken that option anyway. But that explains the difference in the time spent in Skradin. The people who didn’t opt in stayed in Skradin, doing whatever they wanted, including swimming in the river if they so chose, until the bus came back to pick them up.

What was that activity? Oh, come on. You don’t really expect me to disclose any spoilers for this afternoon’s post, do you?