So we start walking down the road to a village... we have no idea how far away it is, but start seeing houses within the first 15 minutes of walking so it seemed promising. There were people here and there, outside their houses, working on the yard and tending to the laundry. Every single one of them turned to look at us, and when they did, they stared. Apparently, we were quite a sight. An old, traditional looking Croatian woman, all dressed in black with a scarf over her head was crossing the road about 10 meters in front of us. She might have been hard of hearing because it took her a while to notice us, but when she did notice us, it seemed that we scared the crap out of her. She stopped dead in her tracks with a horrible look of fright on her face and just stared at us. I began to feel very out of place... I imagine that the village does not see many backpackers simply walking into town from seemingly the middle of nowhere. Do you remember that scene from Romancing the Stone where Kristine Turner and Michael Douglas walked into that village in Columbia? Everyone stared at them and started following them? It was a little like that only the people didn't follow us and they didn't have guns.
Anyway, we walked only a short distance when we made it to the "bus station". Crap. It was just a bus stop. No where to use the Visa card.
I asked Mike if he wanted anything from the market. We hadn't eaten yet. I hadn't even had coffee. Mike replied in exhasperation, "No. I am running on pure stress and don't need anything else right now."
Okay then.
I went into the market and asked the woman, who actually did speak exaggerated body language, "Is there a cash machine (bankomat) here?"
She says, "No. Only bankomat at Hotel Bellvue in the Park."
I almost couldn't believe my ears. "Hotel Bellvue?" I asked.
"Da," she confirmed.
We had been right there the day before. But now..... we were like 8 kilometers from the park.
I ran back outside and told Mike the news. We both looked at each other in silent exhasperation. I wanted to cry.
Just then, however, a bus pulls up to the "bus station" in the village and pulls around to stop. The bus has a big "Pliticka Jezera National Park" emblem pasted on the side of it.
Could it be?
Was this bus going to the park?
It didn't really matter. Without speaking we snatched up our stuff and started running towards it. We boarded and it took off towards the park. Yeah!
Hotel Bellvue, we knew, was located at entrance number two, so we were hoping and praying that the bus would make a stop there. After five minutes, entrance number two neared..... the bus didn't slow down. We stood up to indicated it was our stop and immediately, the bus driver pulled over and let us out. We were never asked for any money for that bus ride... and we never offered any. I feel bad about it now, but think that the bus might have been sent down by a higher power.... if you know what I mean.
We made out way towards Hotel Bellvue and within minutes, recognized what we thought was a bankomat. I was not about to get my hopes up. No expectations, no disappointments, that's my motto. But I must admit, the adrenaline was surging.
Within a few more steps, it was confirmed. It was an ATM machine! Now... hopefully..... keep your fingers crossed...... that it is not out of order.
We approached it carefully, making sure not to disturb any of the internal working components. I didn't see any "Out of Order" signs posted. Mike went first. He delicately placed his card in the slot and held his breath.
The machine responded. He punched in all the appropriate information. Now came the part where the wheels turn internally and the money appears.
What was taking so long?
We would hear a few cranks, then silence.
Then, as if finding an pool of water in the middle of a vast desert, the money appeared. We couldn't believe our eyes..... and we danced.
First things first..... FOOD!
We ate a wonderful self service cafeteria meal of mashed potatoes and tomato soup.
Then we boarded the first bus that came around to Split, a city on the coast. We paid with authority, waving all the extra cash in the bus driver's face.
Within about four short hours, we were in Split, and the day to remember (or forget) was behind us.