Not my favorite day so far
If I could have gone home this morning, without having to pay for a ridiculously expensive plane ticket, I probably would have.
I stopped counting how many times I threw up last night after 10 and probably spent more time in the bathroom than in a bed last night. I must have ate something that really messed with my stomach, but no idea what.
I got out of bed in the morning and went to a pharmacy. The people working there didn’t speak English so I acted out having a sore throat (from all the throwing up). Had I been in any better mood, I would have had fun with the situation. Instead, I just wanted to feel better.
Instead, I had a bus to catch at 11:10am – back to Split on the Croatian coast. Luckily, I booked a private room there so at least I had that to look forward to. At around 10:30am, me and another guy from my hostel walked the 10 minutes to the bus station and bought tickets. The 3.5 hour bus ride cost 17 Marks, or $11.45.
The bus ride was a mix of sleeping and getting comfortable. I mistakenly got a window seat which was in the full sun. I quickly got a headache and started feeling warm. The only thing I could think about was my girlfriend Julie trying to convince me to bring Advil with me. I start feeling sick and my throat started watering so I put in some earplugs to drown out the noise. They probably saved me from throwing up on the bus.
Things got interesting at 12:40pm at the Croatian border crossing. The border agent came on board and checked our passports. About 5 minutes later, I wake up and we’re still at the border.
Another agent comes on board and walks to the back of the bus where I’m sitting. He says, “You 5, come with me.” He points at me, the English guy I walked to the bus station with, and 3 Australian guys. We followed him to a small one story building. He takes one of the Australians inside with his bags, and shuts the door.
Another few minutes later, he points at me and calls me in. There’s two policemen and they ask if I have anything to declare, weapons, or drugs. I tell him I have a small pocketknife, and use my right thumb and index finger to show it’s about 1.5 inches long. I briefly remember looking up the rules on knives on the countries I’m visiting, but didn’t remember them.
He turns to his partner to translate and after a moment, they tell me to take my stuff back on the bus. I was good.
I find out later that for the other 4 guys, they empty their bags and have them repack them. I guess they thought I was honest because I told them I had a pocketknife, and no one who has something suspicious would volunteer any information.
15 minutes since initially stopping, we’re on our way again.
We arrive in Split at 2:30pm. This time I’m happy I saved how to get to my hostel, but I really don’t feel like walking any more than I have to. I grab a taxi and he drops me off 100 meters away from the entrance. I check in at reception, and they take me to my room. It looks perfect – a big double bed with a private bathroom. I took a quick shower. Taking my shirt off, I realized it was inside out all day. Just been one of those days. I quickly lied in bed and slept.