October 10, 2017 – Croatian Hanna and the Facepalm of Obviousness

7:03 AM – 8:26 AM

Sigh. You’d think I would have checked the hours on Medvedgrad before setting my alarm last night. But, no, I was *sooooo* smart and *soooo* well organized thinking Medvedgrad was open on Tuesdays that I didn’t bother to check WHEN it opened on Tuesday.

So this morning as I once again got up early and packed up a day bag with my camera and a few odds and ends, I punched in the destination into my iPhone and… VIOLA!

Or perhaps I should say, “FACE PALM!”

I’ve spent the morning then sorting through a few other logistical issues. About the one thing that has gone right in the last 24 hours or so is that my incredibly generous and gregarious airBNB host Din helped set me up with a washing machine last night. Din and his friends and family here in Zagred are the kind of people who think nothing of going ridiculously far out of their way to help you. The type that if you needed directions somewhere, they’d not only tell you but even if it was exactly opposite to where they were headed they’d escort you there. The type that if you needed something they’d give you five things so you had spares. Super great guy and much appreciated as one travels far from home. And his stories of airbnb guests confirm some of my worst suspicions of other people. I have to admit, I had never heard of an ugly Canadian, thinking the American traveler has always been # 1 in that ignominious distinction. But this guy who berated and cursed Din for the traffic in the area at least tied for the bronze in the Traveling Jerk-Olympics.

Ugly Canadians. Who knew?

Anyway, back to me. Me, me, me! I grabbed a pastry for breakfast and tried a strukli, a sort of egg and almost dessert-ian struedel. Warm and filling and tasty. As an added bonus, it was 4 HKR enabling me to use up all my Croatian coins in one go!

My bus to Budapest tomorrow has terrible reviews online. Things I perhaps should have googled BEFORE buying my ticket, huh? I did scope out the location of the bus depot so hopefully I can get there early and stake out the bus itself to make sure it doesn’t leave without me (some reviews said the bus left without ANY passengers, despite their standing right next to it… that bodes not-very-promising). Still, what do I expect for 17,39 euros? I guess I expect to actually be able to ride the bus. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

I also just realized that on my return flight to the USA I have a 12 hour layover in London Heathrow. I’m looking into nearby hotels but I don’t quite know temporally and visa-listically if that will work or not. It *should* but *should* and *yes, in reality does* are two widely different happenings. On the Venn diagram of outcomes sometimes those circles don’t even come close to touching, let along overlapping.

I’ve fooled around long enough on the internet and this blog post — if I leave know Medvedgrad should be open when I arrive.

Ha. “Should.” Facepalm Hanna may strike again.

***

The road to Medvedgrad is paved with good intentions.

It was about 10km from my airbnb to the Castle. I thought, “Hey, I run marathons. I’ve been walking around a lot — I’ll stroll up, enjoy Zagreb and the natural area outside the city proper. This’ll be great!”

The forecast called for rain clearing by 9 AM and then eventually partly cloudy skies. “Hey, if I leave now at 8:30 AM, googlemaps says it’ll take 2.5 hours to walk, I’ll get there as they open, the skies will be clear by then. I can get back for a late lunch. This’ll be great!”

Medvedgrad is a classic example of a medieval castle built in the 13th century. It’s nestled on the southern slopes of Mount Medvendnica… about halfway up the mountain. At an altitude of 593 meters the guidebook says. “Hey, again, I run marathons — it’ll be hill work! A nice, slow amble up the hill. Again, no worries. This’ll be great!”

The rain didn’t stop. The incline up the hill was steep… I don’t even know how to capture it in photos. My legs were struggling. And when I got there, the two women working the ticket booth smiled apologetically and told me, “Usually there’s great views at the top of the tower. Today…” their voices trailed off, a shrug of the shoulders, a no-need-for-translation look of ‘what can you do?’ I had walked halfway up a mountain in Croatia. I at least was going to take a look around.

They also told me a brief overview of the place. Built in the late 1200s, it’s a fortress that was never attacked and was destroyed only due to an earthquake in the late 1500s. It’s a classic “burg” which apparently means it has a fortress, a castle/palace for residence, and defensive walls. There’s a well there for water as well, part of a legend involving “the Black Queen.” She supposedly sold her soul to the devil and her anguished cries echo through the buildings, her treasure buried somewhere on its grounds. But she also denied the surrounding peasants water during a severe draught.

Walking to the top of the tower, it was evident that on a clear day this would be a lovely place to survey the city of Zagreb and the surrounding countryside. I happen to be visiting the place at its most medieval, that is, it was foggy, misty, and muddy, just like I imagine that time being.

I did avail myself of a cutout photo opp — in the Game of Medvedgrad, you’re either wet or you’re dry. I was very, very wet.

Still, despite the limited visibility and overall dampness, I was glad to visit and wander around.

And the walk DOWN was a lot easier than the walk UP. But honestly, the down was a bit slippery and took a toll on my quads. No wonder the Comrades Marathon is tough whichever year you do it — 56 miles uphill or 56 miles downhill, you’re gonna do a number on your legs.

Also, I treated myself to an ice cream cone for surviving the (un)expected journey – there and back again.

***

Returning to my airbnb in the late afternoon, I began the process of packing up for the bus tomorrow to Budapest. The Zagreb Marathon had posted the official results. And as this day has been replete with my slapping my forehead with my palm, my results are as you’d expect. I was bib # 301. And it turns out the guy at bib pickup wasn’t saying Hanna, Kelvin. He was saying Hannah Keller.

Sigh.

I’ve sent them an email. My head hurts from all the facepalming I’ve been doing today. Dare I say what else could go wrong? Nay. That way leads to only more problems.

***

It was a beautiful, crystal blue sky afternoon.