Day 3 dawns and it's time for me to move on to my next city: Split. Now, I could have taken the bus there - as you would probably expect given the name I chose for this journal - but quite frankly I didn't want to spend my third day of the trip (and only my second full day out here) sitting on a bus for 8 hours. So I'm flying. But it's ok, because it's on an Airbus*. Pretty much the same thing when you think about it.
My, er, flying bus doesn't depart until 2.35pm, so I'm not in any big rush this morning. Even make it to breakfast today. In fact I'm so organised I manage to check out 20 minutes ahead of schedule. This left me far too relaxed (or should that be cocky?) so when I arrived at Gajnice station and checked when the next train was due I didn't pay any attention to the "small print" under the train I wanted (and needed if I was going to get to the airport on time).
Half an hour later, and 10 minutes after the train I wanted hasn't materialised, it occurs to me to look up the small print. Turns out that train doesn't run on Sundays. Oops. Though in my defence this was a timetable entirely in Croatian, so it didn't become obvious until I'd found the word in my phrasebook (and no train had appeared obviously).
So it's back to the hotel to ask them to call me a taxi. Sorted. (If 14 times more expensive than the journey I'd been planning to make!)
Anyway, I make it to Split as planned, where it's hot, sunny, there are palm trees outside the airport doors, and I can see glimpses of both mountains and the ocean. Just about managed not to do cartwheels along the concourse to the airport shuttle bus. But it was close... Either way, Split has all the ingredients for a very happy me.
*OK, so it wasn't actually an Airbus. But it could have been. Honestly. Croatia Airlines' fleet includes Airbuses. It's not my fault we flew on a teeny tiny prop plane instead.