Day 184. Easter Sunday. The forecast was right, heavy rain had come in the night and the morning was dark and dismal. My plants were overflowing with rainwater. My thoughts went to England and the often typical “bad” weather that turns up on a bank holiday. It’s almost unbelievable for that to happen now in Split. Our first plan was to have an Easter picnic but there was no chance of that today.
At 9.50am I went out to meet with Elga at the fountain brandishing my umbrella against the elements. I noticed an array of coloured umbrellas making their way to church. The meeting point was at Ives’s house at 10.00am but as we had rung the bell a few times and no one had answered. I looked at Elga and said, “She has overslept!” When Ives opened the door she did indeed look very sleepy so we went to plan B, we would take coffee at the Belvue Hotel.
Inside was already busy but we managed to find one booth free. The next person to arrive was Gytha, followed by Clare with her friend Vicky who had arrived last night from U,K bearing gifts of bars of Cadbury Fruit and nut chocolate for me. They went straight into the depths of my handbag. Next was Kelly from New Zealand . We all squeezed up and it was a friendly, lively and happy group of women of which I was very pleased to be part of. Finally Ives came in looking very sheepish.
We headed out and straight into the French Square to have our free breakfast put on by the tourist board, I believe. There were chefs and volunteers serving up the food. Ives pointed out one of the women chefs telling me that she was one of their best and had won many awards. It was a delicious breakfast served with their traditional Croatian salad. Here no celebration is complete without it. When I was growing up we called it French salad and it came out of a tin. Somebody else said they called it Russian salad. It is vegetables finely chopped with mayonnaise. Honestly it is a really big deal here. We all huddled under the canopy and out of the rain. We watched the tourists not knowing what to do with the generosity so some accepted but others declined.
At the far end of the serving table was a trio; a girl singer, a guitarist and a box drummer. After we had finished eating we went to stand by the music and very soon my feet were dancing feet. The songs were one that I knew and soon I was dancing, at first alone but I didn’t care. I felt free and happy. I spotted Matt, an attractive young American boy who was volunteering from the other side of the breakfast table. I called to him to come and dance and he did a few moves there and then. He is very good and his whole persona reminds me of Fred Astaire. The trio were drawing to a close and on their last number which was a slow one and I felt a little disappointed. Matt came by carrying something so I quickly took it from him and passed it to Clare and held out my hand to him. He took me in his arms and drew me close and we smooched to the slow dance. It was lovely, and it wasn’t yet over. On the last note he held me and I lent backwards in his arms, very theatrical. To a loud cheer from my girlfriends, I said, “That hasn’t happened to me for a long time!” Thank you Matt.
Our free breakfast time was now over and it had stopped raining but was still dark and dismal. Our next port of call was a free lunch being put on by the bikers!!! This was being held at the fish market so we went to check that out. Today now, because of the weather was a play it by ear day, though to be honest everyday here is a go with the flow day, be in the moment day. I love it. Some of the bikers had set their bikes around the area which created an interest. There were tables and benches here, already filling up so we decided to grab a seat while we could and watch the proceedings with a glass of beer or wine which Kelly and I fetched from a nearby bar. We hadn’t been sat down long when a biker waiter came round with free glasses of red or white wine. The bikers were all in their leathers of course and all playing their part in the proceedings. A couple of biker chefs were stirring the huge pots of octopus risotto. Others were cutting up the bread and the rock music was coming from the DJ. We each received a large dish of food and we were now on with our second course. I think breakfast was the first. It was very good. It was such a friendly affair.
I had to nip back to my apartment for my long cardigan, temperatures had certainly dropped. We were laughing and I was encouraging the tourists to come in. The backpackers were especially grateful and appreciative. I had made a toast. “To Jesus, without him none of this would be happening today?” At one point Ives said, “Jesus is here.” I followed where she was pointing. There was a clearing in the crowd and at the trestle table which was full of people sitting on the other side. Right in the middle stood one of the backpackers, a Spanish boy with a big dark beard. He had his glass up with the toast and for all the world it looked like a modern day Last Supper scene. Brilliant but unfortunately the moment didn’t last long enough for a photo.
Elga and Izzy left and Gytha had to go home but the rest of us stayed till the bitter end. There was an old man offering Clare a piece of land and we had the wedding planned. Seconds came around of everything, it was a real party.
There were some pretty cool dudes around and all of them smoking of course, even those who were cooking but there was no bad behaviour and of course there was singing, they are a mushy romantic lot, everyone is in love with their country. One thing that I did notice, there was police presence at both the breakfast and the lunch. That irritated me. Why weren’t they outside the churches, bound to be some belligerent people there disguised in their Sunday best. Never judge a book by its cover eh?
Vicky and I went to the toilet in the bar and she invited me to take a brandy with her which I declined but I kept her company. While we were there, they cleared up and then Ives, Clare and now a new friend, a young German woman came to look for us. We all had a bit of fun revelling in the merits of Split and then I left them to it. They all went back to Ives’s house and I believe that more than one sat in the hammock? Unfortunately it came crashing down and they had a rude awakening. I saw the pictures on Facebook.
Later that night Dobrilla called me from the island Sipan, she had arrived and was content. I was also content and watching the third and final part of the story of Jesus. Perfect end to a wonderful day
Maria Brooks
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