The night was swarthy when I stepped into the hotel lobby through the open door of the building that had been left wide open in a futile attempt to lower the temperature. I would later learn that the air conditioning is not on yet so that’s going to make for a long night.
Including driving I had now been traveling 20 hours, and I was feeling every minute of it. My clothes stuck unpleasantly to my body and the aroma I emitted was certainly pungent. My mind buzzed with exhaustion. I had slept a reasonable length of time on my plane from Detroit to Istanbul, but the cabin had been warm and the sleep had been fitful.
My most base instincts railed at each other. The bed was seductive, but my stomach took primacy and ultimately won out. So I plunged back out into the streets of Zagreb, where at 8:30 at night restaurants and bars were still packed with diners and drinkers aplenty.
Streets and alleys met at odd angles and I pushed myself along further and longer than I had intended in an attempt to find the perfect meal. And finally, I was worn out and reached the conclusion that there was no perfect restaurant – there was simply a good enough restaurant. I sat down at the outside table of a popular pub and impulsively ordered something I didn’t recognize, as well as the dark beer. And I ate.
As the meal wound down I lingered just a bit longer over a schnapps. It was 10 o’clock when I finally found my way back to my hotel room. The thermostat was useless on the wall and the windows didn’t open. But at least it was a clean and comfortable bed. I’m in Croatia my friends. And this is going to be incredible week.
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