Omis 2026

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20260910

Yesterday I'd contemplated staying in Zadar until after sunset. The city has a park with a light show built into the paving stones. The decision was made to avoid the one hour return drive in the dark so I left early. That turned out to be very fortuitous because a major thunder and rainstorm struck the campsite just after sunset.

Once I arrived back at Camp Stine in Sterigrad, I paid for my stay as I planned an early departure the next morning. I managed to update the blog only acquiring one mosquito bite. The rainfly was on the tent. The ground was so hard I couldn't drive stakes into it, so I'd placed stones inside the tent at the corners. The rainfly was a bit more problamatic, but placing the strings around rocks it was loosely secure. Inside the tent the rainfly held the heat in turning the tent into a sweat lodge. Perspiration rained off me. I had to exit.

Standing there in the dark punctuated by intense flashes of lightning west across the water, I dried off by the building wind and watched as the storm approached. The lights of the distant village across the sea channel soon vanished from the falling rain. A rain I could not feel or smell - yet. The storm's front exhibited itself by the increasing wind and rain disturbed surface of the water seen when the lightening flashed lighting the scene by strobe. As the first drops wet my skin I re-entered the tent and prepared. The full force of the rain and wind came quickly. I pushed against the sides of the tent as the wind endeavored to undo my meager attachment of the rainfly to the rocks. Soon enough the worst past and the storm settled down to a steady pelting of rain. This tent has served me well and even casually pitched kept me dry. The storm cooled the air temperature down though not as much as I hoped for and would have enjoyed.

This morning I drifted awake in the dark and before the alarm. The tent was somewhat dry except for what lay on the ground; a testament to the heat. The skies didn't look threatening despite the forcast of rain. A destination for the village of Primosten was entered into Google maps.

The route selected was on local roads avoiding the express tollway. It took me past windfarms. The vegetation was typically Mediterranean with drought tolerant scrubby plants, olive trees, vineyards, and some pines. There was a mix of new nice homes and abandoned structures. I passed through several small villages, but most of the drive was countryside with small cultivated patches. The route eventually followed the windy Adriatic coastline. I'm finding a rythm with the driving and the constantly changing often unposted speeds.

I enjoyed a coffee and made a short tour of the old section of Primošten on the Adriatic. I watched a couple of monohulls and catamarans coming and going with special interest since I'll be doing that in a few days.

From there I drove to the fishing village of Vinišće further south. It involved a twisty narrow road begging for the Miata. There wasn't anything outstanding about the town. A poster on the beach did describe and statue of Jesus a few meters below the surface of the water for sporting swimmers to see.

The next destination turned into a small trek: Tomato Illyrian Wells. The exact origin of the 15-25ft wide wells about 6 to 15ft deep is unknown. They are located inland in a dry region. Only a few cars were encountered on the one hour drive to get there. The roads became increasingly rustic. I didn't take pictures, but on one stretch the single lane road weaved between 6ft high stone walls and farm houses. The last couple of miles was on a dirt road with dense scrubby trees/bushes lining both sides. If the trail hadn't been signposted it would be easily missed. The trail appeared more heavily used by cows than humans based on all the cowpies. Stepping off the trail and traveling through the dense underbrush did not look a pleasant or easy endeavor. I heard a cowbell as I stepped into the field with the seven wells. The cows were sitting down in the shade of the shrubs. They watched me with interest so I chatted toward them thinking it would ease any anxiety. One would not want to fall into the wells. The water wasn't deep if there was water, but it would be a chore to climb out. One well did have nicely constructed steps descending to the water. As I made my way to leave the owner of the cows arrived with some kind of food. I said 'hello' but might as well have been the breeze as no acknowledgement was made of my presence. He was speaking to the cows as he made separate small piles of the feed for each cow. His voice seemed to relax after I headed out of sight up the trail.

Part of the route I took to get to the wells wound it's way up the side of a very high ridge line overlooking the Adriatic. At the top was a memorial to the fallen soldiers of the Croatian/Serb war from 1991-95. I took some time to explore it.

When the day started out I'd intended to visit Split. This city is large and congested. Pulling off for gas I asked another patron how to pump and pay. The honor system prevails in Croatia. One pumps the gas then walks inside to pay. This was my second petrol station and both were packed with cars constantly coming and going. The folks didn't seem to mind that one had to practice patience waiting the pump and grade needed. Now's a good time to sit down if you aren't already. Just over 8 gallons of gas went in the car at a total cost of just under $80; that's roughly $10/gallon.

Leaving the petrol station put me in a traffic jam. Eventuallly I made it to Omiś. I chose this seaside town because it had some campgrounds and put me closer to Dubrovnik. Driving along the coast feels a bit like Southern California or the French Riviera. The town of Omiś is another seaside old community on the mouth of the river Cetina - a large river. It sports the usual churches and a castle tower high on the cliffs overlooking the village. The tollway passes to the east paralleling the coastline through the limestones mountains. It is only evident because of a beautiful concrete span across the valley behind the village exiting one cliff face and entering the one to the south. The Europeans value their cultures, don't let their roads destroy landmarks or places of enjoyement, and conduct some amazing road engineering feets.

Beside me as I've been typing this is a social group of swimmers/polo players. They have swim lanes and a polo pitch set up in the Adriatic. It's grown dark but they remain engaged talking or swimming.