Zadar

A looooong day of travel. Walk to station, 2 trains to Charleroi, bus to airport, RyanAir from Charleroi, taxi to hotel. If any of you have traveled on this airline, you know the drill. Like cattle to the slaughterhouse -- I fully expected to be put in a mechanical headlock and have my brains bashed out.

But it was strangely efficient. Took off on time, landed on time. Our bags were measured three times (they charge you if they're oversized or overweight). They played triumphal music on landing, and everyone clapped.

And now we're in Zadar. It is not, as I'd believed, Superman's birthplace. It's on the Dalmatian coast of Croatia. Our hotel is gorgeous, right on the water, and the old town is across the bay. (Our cab driver laughed really hard when I tried to pronounce the hotel name. This is one strange language.)

We got in after dark and went right out for a black-and-white feast: fabulous housemade gnocchi with shrimp in gorgonzola sauce and cuttlefish ink risotto.

So far I like Croatia a lot.



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