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Croatian Agriturismo

Saturday, January 12th, 2008

When you’re traveling I can’t recommend staying in an agriturismo enough. Agriturismos are farms that offer accommodation to travelers. Usually, you can partake in part of the daily farm activities as well. Some, of course, are better than others, but if you’re lucky you’ll find one that is extremely affordable and really lets you experience the culture of another country.

The one my family and I stayed at in Croatia was pure bliss. We chose it because it was the only place we could find that seemed to be right where my great-grandma grew up. It was crazily cheap and we figured it could end up being wonderful and saving us lots of money or it could be an absolute disaster. We took the gamble. And it paid off.

After getting a bit lost trying to find it, we asked a lady and her young son if they knew how to get there. After following the son’s directions (he spoke English, the mom didn’t) we ended up driving down a long driveway. My grandpa, being a farmer, immediately took interest in the small plots of various crops surrounding us on either side. Ahead of us, at the end of the driveway, stood a stately, 3-story, light green villa.

“This can’t be right,” Mom muttered. “That looks like someone’s house.”

“Great, we’re lost again,” Angela sighed. She was the one made to ask the last people for directions, and was probably worried we’d all vote her to ask the next people too. And sure enough…

“Hey, look, there’s a guy right there,” I pointed as we got closer to the house. “Let’s ask him if he knows where we are.” [read on]

No Problem

Tuesday, January 1st, 2008

Bacina, Croatia is a small coastal village located about half way between Split and Dubrovnik. It is where my great-grandma spent the first fourteen years of her life before moving to America with her family. Of us five travelers (Mom, Granny and Grandpa, my sister Angela, and me) only one of us had been there before. My mom, who had traveled there thirty-two years earlier with my great-grandma – the only time she ever returned to her birth place.

We were staying at an agriturismo in a neighboring village to Bacina called Peracko Blato. Within five minutes of getting there, we learned two things about Croatians:

1. Everything to them is “no problem.”
2. They are very bossy (but in a good way!)

Angela and I had just dragged our suitcases up the stairs to our room when Pero, the son of the couple who owned the house we were staying at, appeared.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, thrusting a basket of apricots toward us. “I apologize we have no figs right now.”

“I’ve never had a fig,” I said. “What do they taste like?” I had momentarily forgotten about the Fig Newtons I’d eaten my whole life.

His face registered complete shock. Ang and I both giggled at his bewilderment over this statement. [read on]