Visitors from Belgrade

After New Years, my grandmother and I had an expected and a few unexpected visitors from Belgrade. My aunt had spent the holiday season with my cousin and uncle in Belgrade. She had planned to travel down to the coast via bus and join us in Tisno. However, when she mentioned these plans to her friend Bata, he wouldn't hear of it and decided to drive her down himself. In tow were my cousin Dusan (who's plan to come to Tisno was kept top secret from my grandmother, as we wanted to surprise her) and my aunt's friend Nenad.

I had met Bata and Nenad on a previous visit to Belgrade. They lived in the same apartment block as my aunt when she lived in Belgrade many years ago. Bata lived in the neighbouring apartment, and Nenad lived with his family a few levels down (and both still live in that building). They are two of the funniest people I've met. Bata is nearing sixty and Nenad is in his early thirties, but they get along so well, are full of jokes and laughter and are two of my aunt's closest friends (when my aunt was in Belgium earlier this year, Nenad and Bata flew from Belgrade to Brussels just for the day to see her - insane, yet so thoughtful).

Although it was a cold and overcast day, our visitors for Belgrade were absolutely amazed by Tisno. Spending the day with them allowed me to see the town through fresh eyes - everything was suddenly interesting, things I had previously disregarded, now stood out. It was as though I were a tourist in Tisno, taking in as much as possible in the few short days of my visit. Cameras were clicking, everything was 'wow' 'look at this' 'how nice is that view!'. We spent the entire day exploring every corner of Tisno, every nook and cranny, every bay, every outlook, every church (there are 4 of them), every small cobbled lane...

Our visitors from Belgrade had an extremely enjoyable time, and vowed to visited Tisno again, but preferably in the summer time.

View from Karavaj

Jugo (the south wind which results in rough seas and rain)

Uska Ulica 

The path to the bay of Sveti Andreja (Saint Andrew)

 

The church of Saint Andrew (Crkva Svete Andreje)

The Bell Tower (Kampaneja)

The Church of the Madonna of Caravaggio (Crkva Gospe od Karavaja)

Celebrating the New Year

Everyone was full of big plans for New Years - should we go out to Zadar, Split or even Zagreb? So and so is playing here, so and so is playing there. So many fantastic and exciting options. The chatter in Tisno regarding everyone's New Years plans filled the cafes of Tisno from Christmas Day right up until New Years Eve itself. Opcina Tisno (Tisno Council) allowed for a party to be help in the Kino Sala (the hall located behind the summer cinema). But for many this was deemed boring, unoriginal - people wanted a New Years to remember, as does everyone. I wasn't too fussed, as I was surely to remember this New Years no matter where I ended up going or what I ended up doing - this was my first New Years in Croatia and the first time I'd experienced a winter New Years Eve.

Aside from where to go and what to do, much of local conversation revolved round fireworks! Everyone was being very secretive, or overly boastful, about their firework supplies. There was a unspoken competition as to who would present the biggest and the best fireworks display (I'm not 100% sure if fireworks are legal or not in Croatia, but I'm guessing that if they are illegal, the local police turned a blind eye for this one evening). People in Tisno are practically one big family (there are also many who are related to each other and can name all their first, second, third, fourth cousins etc without hesitation - family and family connections are extremely important). They've known each other all their lives, seen each other on a daily basis and have lived their entire lives within the 2km radius of Tisno. So all this commotion about fireworks is best likened to your average sibling rivalry - 'No, mine's going to be better' / 'No, MINE's going to better!" / "NO, MINE IS'.

Anyway, when New Years Eve eventually arrived, our most people's 'big plans' dissipated (as usual, who could be bothered to drive to Sibenik, Split, Zadar, it's too cold, too far, where would we sleep) and most people resolved to content themselves with the party which was to be held in the Kino Sala. We spent the early evening having a barbecue at a friend's place, whilst assessing our firework supplies. At the stroke of midnight, we and a number of out people around Tisno ignited their fireworks (being a windy evening, we almost had a bit of an accident, as some of the smaller fireworks about-faced and were close to ending up inside the house - this could be one reason to outlaw them...). It was a bit of a higlty-piglty display, obviously nothing compared to the Sydney Harbour Display I had become used to, but the excitement of New Years was in the air. This followed by everyone trying to guess who let off fireworks na ratu (at the rat part of town), u vili (at the villa), u selu (in the town centre), and of course, which were the best. 

We headed down to the kino sala where the music was blaring and everyone was packed in like sardines. I was a bit disappointed that New Years wasn't held in the old Go-Go Club, as it was the previous year (the old Go-Go club was located in the old bunar (water well) beneath the opcina building (council chambers). This literary underground club was popular in the 1970s and 80s, but had to unfortunately close due to noise complaints by neighbouring residents. A big Booooo!). Once inside you forgot about the Arctic temperatures outside, especially after you downed one, two and great deal more drinks. The night passed with a lot of singing and dancing, and drunken behaviour (nothing new for Tisno), but everyone was in great spirits, as usual too! Again, I'll refrain from posting photos, as many may find them somewhat embarrassing. 

I think I left at about 3 or 4am, but the party was still in full swing. At about 9am the following morning, I walked passed on my way to buy some bread (Yes, 9am. I have a bizarre inability to sleep in). The music was still going and a number of them weren't at all keen to end the party any time soon.

Walks along Kosirina

Winter in Tisno wasn't all about snow, sub-zero temperatures (although it was painfully chilly at times) and crazy winter parties. As you can see from the following photos, we had some amazingly beautiful sunny days, which were perfect to explore the island of Murter. I adored the northern winter sunlight - it had this incredible warm, golden hue to it, which reflected magically on the crystal clear Adriatic Sea. And being winter, I had the opportunity to completely appreciated the natural beauty of the island of Murter without the hoards of tourist from all over Croatia, Europe and beyond, who flock en masse to the coast to inhale the delights of a Dalmatian summer. 

When the weather was clear, and the mercury was at a reasonably level, I could think of nothing better to do but to be outdoors. After being cooped-up indoors, almost physically attached to the heater and unable to move due to feeling like an ice-block, the warm sunshine was unbelievably alluring. 

On a number of occasions we'd spend the afternoon walking around the Bay of Kosirina, which is located on the western side of the island of Murter. Kosirina is one of a number of bays on the island, which house auto-camps, camping grounds, restaurants and night clubs during the summer months, as their natural beauty and coastal location attracts a great number of tourist. The owners of these bays, residents of Jezera and Murter, have obviously been very successful in capitalising on their 'prime' real estate, which was once, before to the great wave of tourism, consider worthless due to its tough soil, which made it extremely difficult to earn any decent living from agriculture on these rocky, barren outcrops.

The bay of Kosirina has a labyrinth of paths, which allow you to walk either along the water's edge, or over the masses of rock and shrubbery. Many of these paths connect Kosirina with neighbouring bays and onto the towns of Murter and Jezera. Presumably, these rocky paths were once used by locals on their daily journey to and from their fields. Walking around Kosirina, you can image sun-kissed peasants walking in their dirt encrusted trousers on an autumn afternoon with their olive-laden donkeys, exhasted from a hard days work and keen to get home. Even today, the stone walls erected by the Jezerani and Murterini, which enabled them to distinguish their plot of land to that of their neighbour's are still there, as if for them time had stood still. Unfortunately however, the majority of these small plots of land are now overgrown, as most people have turned away from the toil of agriculture in favour of tourist dollars.

There's something about the island of Murter, and other areas of the Dalmatian coast, that I feel a strange connection with - the rocky landscape, the salty sea. I think many Dalmatians, and children of Dalmatians, feel the same way. Walking around Kosirina, breathing in that crisp sea air, even just looking at these photos again, I feel this affinity to the sea and the land, as generations and generations before me were inextricably connected to it - they lived on it, lived from it, they loved it, they despised it. But without it, they wouldn't have existed. It formed their identity.

Christmas in Tisno

Christmas. What a wonderful time of the year! Up until this year most of my Christmas celebrations have been more or less the same - Christmas Eve is spent with my father's family, Christmas Day with my mother's and Christmas evening out on the town with my cousins. Christmas in Australia is always associated with summer holidays, basking in the sun and jumping into the ocean. But I anticipated this Christmas to be somewhat different. And it surely was...

A few days before Christmas my neighbour Teo and I went to pick-up my grandmother from Sibenik bus station. She had been in Belgrade with my aunt for a sorrowful occasion (and my aunt was to join us in Tisno a week or so later). Upon arriving, she looked extremely exhausted and disheveled. Teo and I were both very keen to get her home. I had prepared dinner for us earlier that day, but Teo and his wife insisted that we dine with them that evening (no Tišnjanin would ever allow you to refuse an invitation to dinner, or lunch, or any other occasion involving food).

The following day, I was expecting my grandmother to take it easy - she'd just spent over 12 hours in a cramped bus, which isn't too much fun when you're 24, let alone 76. I've done the Tisno-Belgrade and Belgrade-Tisno bus trip one too many times, visiting family there and although the buses are reasonably comfortable, the trip is overwhelmingly monotonous (freeways aren't the most exciting of routes to take - although the new highways have shortened the trip considerably, they have also made is considerable more boring - it was much more interesting when you had to go through all the small towns on the way), especially when you complete it on your own. Being in her old kitchen, my Baba (grandmother) set about making sarma for our lunch. Sarma is made from pickled cabbage leaves, stuffed with a mixture of minced beef, port, ham and rice. This rissole-like mixture is wrapped in individual cabbage leaves. These 'parcels' are then placed into a pot with extra sauerkraut and smoked port ribs which is then covered in a thin tomato-based 'soup' and put to simmer for an hour or so. It is usually served with mashed potatoes or kaša (cooked polenta). Leftover kaša is fantastic served with warm milk the following morning for breakfast - it's a Dalmatian thing. As usual, she cooked enough sarma to feed an army, so we planned to eat is for the following few days. Although this plan was disregarded after our 'Christmas gift' the following day.

I had planned to have dinner with Darko and some friends, and my grandmother had decided to have dinner with her 'adoptive' family (my grandmother grew up in a hamlet in the Dalmatian hinterland. She was orphan during the Second World War, sent to a Red Cross orphanage in Alexandria, Egypt and then placed in Tisno as a servant girl in the then wealthy Kaleb household, but basically became an extra member of their family). My grandmother had already left for the evening and I was just stepping out of the front gate in the evening darkness when I perceive my neighbour Teo bounding up the street (Teo is always bounding - he has this insatiable energy and happiness about him) with a large parcel in his hands. As he comes towards me, he asks me to go ahead of him and open the front door. I do so and let him in. He walks into our kitchen and plonks the parcel onto the table. He slowly unravels the butcher's paper to reveal a whole turkey - all cleaned and plucked and ready to prepare. He on goes to tell me that he was at his ranch (his little 'farm' just outside of Tisno which houses his menagerie of turkeys, chickens, rabbits and pigeons, as well as a selection of various fruits and vegetables - I remember going there one year to pick sour cherries) that day and brought us back a turkey for Christmas dinner. I told him we'd already made plans to go out that evening and I didn't know what the two of us would do with an entire turkey, so I told him to take it back for his own family. Refusing to listen to my answer, he left and went on his merry way. The following day my grandma even attempted to give it back to him, but we ended up eating this turkey for the following week. And were rather creative with it - we boiled parts for soup, we poached it, we prepared a fantastic roast on Christmas day, we made turkey sandwiches...although the turkey was the most amazing I had ever tasted, lets just say I didn't touch turkey for a while after that.

Christmas Eve dinner at Darko's was roasted octopus! The Dalmatian adore their seafood, but unfortunately most stores do not sell quality goods, even though we are right on the coast. The fish market in Tisno typically has a depressingly poor selection of fish, unless you're eager enough to be there are 6am as the fishing boats pull in and manage to strike a bargain with the skipper. But for the regular Tišnjanin, finding decent fish is usually the result of a few precise telephone calls. A number of men in town are known for their fishing talent, so you call a number of them and ask if they've caught the thing that you're particularly after, in this case octopus, in the last few days. If they say no, you continue on to the next person on the phone list, and when you finally obtain a positive response, you offer them a price for the octopus in kuna (the official Croatian currency), through a favour - painting a room in their house, helping with some tiling, etc, or through a barter exchange for wine, spirits, beer, olive oil, vegetables, etc.

After our delicious dinner and dessert of fritule (little round deep-fried doughnut-like delicacies, about the size of a golf ball, made from a light and fluffy batter with raisins and sprinkled with icing sugar), we and almost the entire town attended midnight mass at the Church of the Holy Spirit. The church was literally overflowing with Tišnjani - all the seats were taken with people standing at the rear of the church, in the doorway and also outside. Unlike the weeks prior, and the weeks following Christmas and New Year, Tisno was teaming with people, as many Tišnjani living in other parts of Croatia and Europe return home for the holidays. After mass everyone wished each other a Merry Christmas in the courtyard of the church building. As all the 'oldies' went home to their warm beds, the youth packed into Kaseopeja (the tiny, two room caffe-bar in Uska Ulica) and the younger teenagers into their second home, Crni's Caffe Bar (located at the opposite end of the town centre). Being freezing cold outside, about fifty of us squeezed into Kaseopeja and somehow managed to close the doors shut - you could barely take a step without bumping into someone, that's how packed it was. The evening continued until dawn with people signing well-know Croatian rock songs from the 80s and 90s, somehow attempting to dance in any small opening between the crowd they could find, as well as general drunken, but reasonably orderly behaviour from a number of the boys, and a few of the girls too. It was better than any summer party, as it consisted only of true Tišnjani, and Tišnjani know how to party. (I'll refrain from post photos, saving many people a great deal of embarrassment).

Christmas day was a quiet affair, with the majority of Tisno nursing a hangover. Although many, as was to be expected, continued the festivities in Kaseopeja the following night, despite this.

Snow? In Tisno?

View towards the selo (the town centre)

Snow! There's something magical about it, the way it falls from those foreboding grey clouds and covers the landscape in a pure white blanket, instantly altering our perception of it. Is this awe an innate human reaction, or is it a learned reaction due to growing-up watching films such as Little Women and Home Alone where a snowy landscape equates to warmth, family, fun, adventure? Or is it that I've only experienced snow a handful of times, so it remains something unusual, interesting, amazing? Whatever it is, I'm always excited to see snow. I remember living in Paris, sitting on the lounge beneath the large Hausmann styled window in the sitting room. I glanced outside, and thought, 'Is that rain? Or is that snow?' Taking a closer look I perceived it to be snow. I dropped the book I was reading, put on my ugg boots and run outside to stand amongst the floating snowflakes. I must have appeared a little odd to some passers-by, but I was so enthralled by the snow. So when I experienced a snow fall in Tisno, again I found it difficult the contain my excitement. Even more so, since I had become accustomed to visiting Tisno during the summer. So seeing the town in its winter guise was strange enough, let alone seeing it during and after a snow fall.

Gomilica

Being situated on the coast, winters in Tisno are usually quite mild (during this winter we even had sunny days, with the temperature reaching almost twenty degrees Celsius) with temperatures averaging around ten degrees and I think the coldest day we had whilst I was there was about zero degrees. Compared to inland regions who were experiencing minus twenty degree weather, I consider zero to ten degrees to be reasonably mild. And it's not every year that snow falls in Tisno, so I felt especially lucky to be there this particular winter.

Kampaneja (the bell tower)

I think we (I had began dating one of the local boys by this stage) may have been sitting in Kole's cafe (where else would we be between the hours of 11am and 2pm - I need my daily does of cocoa, newspapers, town gossip, Mr. Steve's opinions, Dijana's happy smile), or someone gave us a call, I can't remember exactly, but anyway we heard that it was snowing in Dazlina (about 10km away). So, having nothing better to do (there is hardly any work during winter in Dalmatia, so we never really had anything better to do), and also being somewhat excited, we jumped into the car and drove to Dazlina to see snow, thinking that this would probably be the only chance we'd get that winter. As we passed the Magistral (the main coastal road in Croatia, running from Istra in the north to Dubrovnik in the south) at Kapela (the intersection of the Magistral and the road that leads to Tisno), we could see the dark clouds eerily hanging over the distant landscape. As we drove through Dubrava and neared Dazlina we saw that the small hamlet was quickly being covered in snow. Within moments, that snow began falling all around the car and the once dry, rocky landscape was soon completely disguised by a powdery white blanket.

Snow in Dazlina

We drove painfully slowly back to Tisno, as the road was extremely slippery. It continued to snow the entire way and, to our amazement, it was also snowing in Tisno! How beautiful moje malo misto (my little town) looked in the cool afternoon light with its snowcapped roofs and powderwhite footpaths. So still, yet somehow so animated. To me it appear to be much more beautiful than on a warm and sunny summer's day. It posessed a magical, other-worldly atmosphere, unable to be properly felt though these photographs. It was one of those 'you had to be there' moments.

The path to Karavaj

We also walked up to Karavaj (the southern hill on the island side of the town, where the Church of the Madonna of Carravaggio is located) in the snow. Even though the dusk was drawing near, I wasn't going to miss this perhaps once in a lifetime experience - I was going to enjoy it to the full. Walking up the hill wasn't the easiest of things, as my boots constantly fell through the fresh snow. I'd say that there was a good half foot of it. But the view towards the selo, Gomilica (the mainland side of the town) and the islands of Ljutac, Borovnik, Bisaga and Mimonjak (to the south of Tisno) was truely amazing.

I'm sure that most Tisnjani and visitors to Tisno would agree with me in thinking that Tisno is absolutely beautiful during the summer months. But am I wrong in believing that its winter landscape is beyond any description of beauty...?

The Church of the Madonna of Caravaggio

Final few photos captured just before evening fell

The view from Karavaj onto Tisno