Pula

Yesterday we drove right down and around the Istra Penninsula, the little tear drop at the top Croatia. Pula itself dates back to Roman times at a trading port. In the middle of the city was a reasonably intact amphitheatre with its huge columns towering over head. While there is some column renovation at the front, the remainder was impressive.

Parking around Pula is scarce and tight, and I highlight the word tight. Parking spaces are so small in fact I would guess almost the exact length of a car. It seems very difficult to fit a normal length sedan or smallish rental into the space with out crimping some of the parking space either in front or behind. We managed with some cooperation from the family who were leaving behind us. They were backed right back on the car behind them and with a few tricky in out manoeuvres they managed to let us in move forward and then leave. Another good reason to stay away from the large cities.

Pula was hot, 40 degrees around 2 pm, very burnt and dry, similar to Spain and incomplete contrast to the remainder of Croatia. The  hot dry Westerly wind blowing in from the Adriatic would scorch anything in its path. We had meandered to Pula down the coast, and decided to take the motorway back to Riejka and  Opatija  where we are staying. The motorways are excellent pieces of dual carriage way. Modern, well maintained, allowing the driver to cover a reasonable distance at the speed limit of 130 km. There are a number of viaducts over valleys allowing for ease of motoring and smooth driving. The motorways are tolled. Our 84 km drive cost 18 kuna, about $4.5 NZ. Well worth the cost.

Leaving Pula the motorway sadly cuts through old and ancient farmland, and olive groves. Dotted through the countryside are stone walls built by the shepherds from long ago. The stones on this area seem flat and slab like, a helpful asset when building walls. Dotted through the area were the small shepherds cottages,  the Kanuzi, built at the same time to house the shepherd and maybe some of his stock. Until I can get close enough to take a picture I grabbed this one off the net. Cavorting down the motorway at 130 is not a time to screech to a halt and take a pic, even in Croatia.