I visit Croatia every few years. Sometimes my visits last a few weeks, sometimes they last a few months. Either way, I always stop in Šibenik, where my parents were born and raised, and where most of my relatives live.
I’ve been known to call these visits Le Tour de Šibenik because they can feel like an intense circuit requiring great mental and physical stamina. The tour takes in many of my relatives’ houses and apartments, stretching from Baldekin to Dolac, across to Šubičevac and up to Meterize, before veering out towards the villages of Goriš and Ercezi. It involves being overfed while reporting on life in Australia and on whether my marital status is likely to change any time soon. Two loops of Le Tour, a few dips in the Krka River or a nearby beach, and I’m off to some other part of Croatia.
This time, I decided to do things differently: to base myself in Šibenik for four months and better acquaint myself with my parents’ home ground. I want to hike up Dinara and through the Čikola canyon, and to kayak the Šibenik islands. I want to try new things and uncover places I didn’t even know existed. And I’d like to forge new friendships along the way.
It was while I was searching for a way to make all this happen that I came across the Sveti Mihovil (St. Michael’s) Mountaineering Club.
Last Thursday, I went to my first club meeting to find out more. When I arrived at 8pm and found hardly anyone there, I wondered if this was some three-member club. But the president, Mate Protega, assured me the club had around 270 members. Sure enough, more of them began to show until there were more than 20 of us, sitting on the steps outside the club house with a beer in our hands and Sibenik’s old town as our backdrop.
For the next two hours, members reported on the expeditions and travels they’d returned from over the past week. We heard stories of alpinism in Slovenia, of walking for 40 days in Nepal, and of scaling the via ferrata of the Dolomites. There was joking and laughter, and plans were made for the week ahead. I didn’t talk to many people that night, but I watched on and saw a group of positive, active people who valued nature, adventure, and each other.
The next day I signed up as a club member and registered for my first excursion with the club: a 22-kilometre hike to Babić Lake that coming Sunday. I’d never heard of Babić Lake. Nor had any of the relatives I mentioned it to. When I looked it up on the internet, I saw that it was about 50 kilometres north of Knin, on the border with Bosnia, and that it was neither popular with tourists nor easy to get to. I was intrigued.
After leaving Šibenik at 6am on Sunday, 17 of us assembled on Ljubina poljana (Ljuba’s Meadow) ready for our guides, Marica and Jelena. We began out hike by crossing the bright green meadow and entering a forest full of wild strawberries. Naturally we chatted as we walked and picked strawberries along the way.
It didn’t take long for people to pick up that I wasn’t a local. My accent and my funny grammar always give me away. And so the questions began. Where in Australia are you from? What is Perth like? Is it true that kangaroos attack people? What are the mountains like down there? And lots of questions of comparison that ultimately seem to boil down to one question: Where is life better – Here or elsewhere?
From the forest we emerged out into a green mountainous landscape. Everywhere around me I saw lush green hills and mountains decorated in white and yellow flowers. If I didn’t know where we were, I’d have thought we were in Austria. I had no idea Croatia could look like this. And so it seemed that my wishes were already being realised – I was discovering places I hadn’t known existed.
After a steep descent and an even steeper climb, we reached a lookout and got our first glimpses of the lake – a blue gem in the centre of many layers of green. I couldn’t wait to jump in, although we still had a long walk to get there.
I met and talked with several people in the group as we made our way down. Mirjana, a retired doctor from Vodice, was a new member like me. Jelena, from Šibenik, had worked on cruise ships for several years, and recalled how the worse storm she’d ever experienced was in Tasmania. Krste, a taxi driver from Murter, told me of his ambitions to be a seaman. Stipica, who introduced himself as an expert in chatter, asked me about my hiking experiences and told me about some of his.
All this chatting got us to the lake, where we settled in for lunch and a swim. We set up a picnic spot in the shade, pulled out prosciutto, cheese, cucumbers and cakes, and shared them around. Then we settled in for a rest or peeled off our layers ready to dive into the cold, blue water.
By now it was 2pm and I noticed that feeling I get on a great hike – when the kilometres, hours, effort and reward begin to do their work. We’d transformed from a group of individuals taking a walk together to a group that has created and shared a special experience together.
I wanted to stay at that lake forever, to swim around and across and through it. But eventually the time came to make out return.
At 4pm, we began crossing in reverse order all those ascents and descents that got us here. While I was feeling happy and satisfied at this point, I was also feeling hot and tired. I put my head down and walked alone in silence through the toughest of it, until I reached a gravel road where we all threw ourselves on the ground for a much-needed rest. I was quite sure I was done with meeting new people for the day.
It was right then that I met Doris from Dubravice, who was sitting on the road beside me. She told me she kept bees and made bee products. She also organised events at Krka National Park among other things. Doris and I fell easily into conversation, which continued as we walked the final stretch of the trail. I was so engrossed, I don’t even remember being hot or tired anymore. By the time we got back to the car, we’d already organised our next adventure: competing in an 18.5 kilometre tandem kayak race on the Zrmanja River.
I returned to Šibenik and declared to my family that my hike to Babić Lake had been a success. It had reflected the landscape surrounding us: full of layers that kept unfolding and surprising right up the end.
I don’t know when I’ll get to Dinara, Čikola or Žirje. I also don’t know if I’m capable of kayaking 18.5 kilometres. But I know the next few months are going to be active, fun and illuminating, and that the Sveti Mihovil Mountaineering Club will play a big part in that.
Read the Croatian version on the Sveti Mihovil Mountaineering Club website.
