Public Holiday

Last night was an example of how a city should celebrate a public holiday! The street was closed to all traffic and the riva was swollen with meanderers and promenaders. And me. (How those young girls can promenade in those tiny skirts and high high shoes (visoka cipela) is beyond me, but they know how to turn heads! - guess that's why men sit in the front rows of the cafes..)

I missed any speeches that may have taken place at the beginning of the evening and although I am sure that the local political party would have been there boots and all- I wonder how many of the tourists realized what the party was for. Not that it made any difference.

A magnificent fire works display lit the whole night sky, resounding through the air, bouncing off Biokovo. The klapa group was wonderful (of course), and then a band from Zagreb played.

Stalls of all descriptions were displaying their wares (photos would have been fantastic, but I just didn’t feel like doing the tourist thing – just believe me - the colours, the smells….)

There were open fires cooking big wheels of blitvah pressed between bread and then fried pancake thin – tiny battered fish, octopus, large whole battered fish all cooked over hot coals, popcorn, candyfloss, a huge display of old fashioned lollies¸ and all sorts of rakija – cherry, walnut. Stalls selling beer, selling icecream, selling lavender, selling those annoying balls on a string that kids bang together… Even a puppet show with a crowd watching.
Babies asleep on shoulders, asleep in prams. Kids dragging their feet, trying to stay awake.

We stood and watched a couple of guys singing in the trg (square) where the night clubs are – fantastic guitar work, fantastic voices – people were singing and dancing. Another klapa group was singing on a big party boat anchored in the harbour and the songs were mingling with the sound of the songs from the Zagreb group. We sat in a café and ate limun gelato and drank strawberry Pago juice…

At the moment the harbour is filled with boats, all elegantly lit¸ with carousers of all nationalities looking for a party and a good time. And I am sure that they can find one in Makarska. I hear through the young travelers that this town is getting a bit of a reputation - we don’t want any more broken hand basins!

My staying power for Really Big Nights Out is waning. I wandered home at about 2 (thinking about my 7 o’clock rowing call) but heard people coming home just before I got up. Those young folk.