We had been in the campsite at Stobreč for a week and had not yet ventured into Split our nearest big town, so thought it about time we did. As usual we caught the bus, a bus stop being conveniently located just outside the camp. Our driver on our trip to Dubrovnik had said that Split was not a pretty town, and was full of red tiled concrete houses and 60’s utilitarian flats. He wasn’t wrong. That being said everything looks and tastes better in the sunshine, even cheap wine (well, to a point).
The end of the line was conveniently just across the road from the old town. Roland was keen to see Diocletian’s Palace, so we decide to head for that. A young couple we had met earlier in our travels said that they had spent some time in the old town looking for the palace only to realise that the town had grew up in and around it, and that they were in the palace all along. Our previous driver was correct again when he said that the old town was the exception to what was said earlier and that it really was worth a visit. Sure enough we found the gates and there seemed to be life everywhere, admittedly mostly tourists. But there were also local markets. One seemed to be set aside just for individuals who had brought produce from their own small plot of land. Sometimes it seemed they just a handful of vegetables to sell.
Market Stalls with strangely little produce
The old town is one of those places, like Dubrovnik, where in the old days one could easily use up all one’s rolls of film. With digital, however, Roland can capture hundreds of images (most of which, thankfully, will never see the light of day again).
…. and yes people do live here
In and around the old town
Parts of Diocletian's PalaceDiocletian was nothing if not an ostentatious fellow and his retirement palace was certainly on a grand scale, impressive and complex, with much of it still remaining. One might say that if it wasn’t for despots such as Diocletian we wouldn't have his wonderful legacy. One might say that, but you would be wrong. It is not his legacy, but the legacy of the master craftsmen and women who worked on the project and of all the people he brutally murdered.
On a lighter note. For our amusement there were even a number of young men dressed as Roman soldiers, allowing even more photo opportunities for the tourists (we two included). As we entered the palace proper we noticed that the tourists were all being shepherded into one arena. It soon became apparent that we were to be regaled by ‘Diocletian’ himself. There was a short but amusing interlude as Diocletian charmed the crowd, but then he didn’t have his lions with him.
Changing of the guard? Some helmets actually fitted Diocletian regales the crowd “Titter ye not”
Whos deodorant may not be up to it?
Being logical fellows Angela and I reasoned that the bus going back would be on the opposite side of the road to the one coming and duly waited for one of a number of bus lines that we were assured by the campsite would get us home. Luckily we happened upon an elderly (a couple of years older than us) German lady from our camp who pointed out that there was only one bus line that took us to the camp; the others just went somewhere in the vicinity. We also noticed that there was only one bus stop and all the buses just drew up anywhere down the street. If one looked away for a second and didn’t spot the bus drawing up a hundred yards down the road behind other buses, then one was out of luck, moments later seeing it flash passed with just the few passengers who happened to see it arrive. Queues? Who needs them!
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