Zagreb 2026

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Carol was sweet this morning to prepare me a nice and full brunch before dropping me at Tablemesa ParknRide to catch the bus. There was a slight scramble at the ParknRide as to where to catch the bus due to rennovation construction. Carol walked with me over the bridge to the south side of Hwy 36 to make sure I caught the bus. It arrived almost the instant we arrived. The bus soon became standing room only as it picked up additional people at two further stops. There were so many bags people had to bring them into the sitting area.

At Denver International Airport, I'm still getting use to the constuction forming new check-in and security processes. People get their photo taken, put their carry-on in the trays to go through the x-ray machine, then they take that special pose in the long-wave body scanner, and finally we stand there watching as our tray of carry-ons come to the 'Y' junction on the tray transport mechanism. Yes, the 'Y' junction where one side leads to freedom and your plane and the other to the 'we don't trust you and must do a swab for explosives'. I stood there staring toward my tray at the junction. Would it turn to freedom or will I hang my head in shame as it goes down the 'swab' side. Everybody before me had gone to freedom. Which way? Which way? My tray seemed to linger a long time. Nooooo! It moved down the side of swabbing shame! The officer focused on the bag of food and asks, "Is there anything sharp in here?" I thought, "well you could get a paper like cut on the plastic containers with food.", but elected to just say 'no'. He opened the bag with the caution of a bomb squad expert. Once he looked inside I believe he slightly smirked and invited me on my way. Terrific, he didn't take my apple!

I had arrived about three hours before my flight departed so I reviewed sailing and chatted with a couple of folks on the phone.

Almost the last person to board the aircraft, I found my seat in the last row against the bulkhead just in front of the galley. I'd planned that to be well away from the toilets. This flight to Frankfurt had a number of periods of flailing due to turbulence revealing that on a Boeing 787 the tail swings side-to-side which made my head roll left and right as I tried to sleep. Compounding that against sleeping well was the vertical seat and the two youngish ladies across the aisle from me talking up a storm with a string of "yeah", "I know", "oh yeah", and laughter well into the flight.

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The Frankfurt airport was new for me. It is humongous. The plane parked on the tarmac far from the terminals with busses waiting. Sitting on the last row I settled in for a long wait glad I had three hours before my flight to Zagreb when a steward speaks from behind me announcing the rear door would be opening with another set of stairs. All right! I bolted from my chair, thanked and shook his hand and was the quickly down the stairs. An open rear door on the very first bus invited me in and after a winding five minute drive around planes, hangers, and baggage handling facilities deposited us at the international terminal. I wandered through the crowded duty free gaunlet looking for concourse A. Almost at a deadend with a sign pointing to 'A' I caught some official looking person speaking loudly in German to a large group of people and pointing to turn around. I overheard English speakers saying something about going back and making a left. I stopped a woman in the group to get the scoop. She turned out to probably be an American and only spoke English. Her reply was essentially, "I don't know what he said ... follow the herd." We went through a suspicious oneway single person passage, made a right, and found ourselves at European customs.

Several employees there spoke excellent English and formed us into a very long line that ran down a another long hall. Questions floated through my head. Should I have picked up my luggage? Didn't someone say to pick up your luggage on the plane? Too late now! Following the moving line I arrived back at the hall with all the customs booths and a wandering queue of fabric straps attached to moveable poles. A customs employee drew his arm in front of me severing the line asking me to wait. I asked how is day was going and he responded, 'GREAT! I love my job!' Everybody working for customs here was friendly and relaxed. My young female customs officer through smiles asked me the usual pertinent questions and promptly stamped my passport. Declarations come immediately next. I again pondered whether I was supposed to have picked up my luggage. Several people were getting there bags searched thoroughly. As I stood probably looking like a deer-in-the-headlights, an officer barked 'trans....' something in German and point for me to walk on through. No complaints from me!! However, it wasn't over yet.

Having cleared customs, I still had to make my way to Terminal A which required going through security again. My carry-on got loaded onto those trays for x-ray, I got the long wave treatment, and again faced the 'Y' tray junction. And again my tray went down the side of swab shame - arrgh! The customs officer asked if I spoke German and when I sayed no he turned to scour the x-ray screen image of my tray muttering something that conveyed to my, 'why am I having to look at this tray of stuff?". He figured out it was food and said you are free to go! Yes! And I still have my apple! Now it's back to figuring out where the heck terminal A is! Of course my gate was the last one at the end of about a 1/4 mile terminal. Then the gate for the flight got changed sending all of us waiting back an 1/8th of a mile. After boarding, the pilot was excessively chatty in German. I thought he'd be more succint in English, but I was wrong. He rambled just as well in English and he did in German. Maybe he was stalling for time, because there was some issue with checking luggage and by the time the pilot stopped keying the mike and talking the plane was ready to back away from the terminal.

The flight to Zagreb took us over Munich with the Alps I'd just visited a few months prior visible from the plane. It descended passing over jagged hills with mining operations, trees, scattered roads and homes, and eventually a broad valley with patches of varying farmland. All that remained was to see if my luggage arrived with me in Zagreb. It did. Despite my rambling story, it was a smooth travel day.

The Zagreb airport is small compared to Denver, Frankfurt, Milan, Geneve, Paris, or London. It's considerably larger than the one in Grand Junction, Colorado, but it had the same feel - a touch of home, uncrowded, trust.

Now, how to pay for public transport? The guy at the newstand spoke English and said to scan the Q-code on the bus to pay for it there. The bus arrived as I made it to the stop. It didn't take the route Apple Maps said it would. I decided again to follow the herd when everyone got off at the same stop. A transportation ticket machine wouldn't take my cash though the street lady sitting by the machine was eager for it. So I just got on a tram and tried to scan the QR code. The code didn't work. Nobody was validating or scanning anything but hey I'm headed in the right direction and not carrying my bags in this ... heat!

It's very hot! Well in the low 90's. My shirt is soaked in perspiration. I was told just a few days ago it was 125F!

Signage here is subtle and business entraces don't feel obvious. Around here you have to know which non-descript door is the business you are looking for. I couldn't find several businesses looked for so I moved on. They may be there, I just didn't know what I was looking at. I wandered back and forth before finding my accommodations entrance.

Being early evening and desiring a grocery store, wandering the nearby streets seemed a good idea. The main square had loads of young kids and teenagers. Many were adolescent girls in twosomes and threesomes+ talking and walking. There were parents walking with kids; maybe on holiday together. An older man operated a hand cranked music machine the size of a large hand push cart. The trams came and went. There was a man taking a large group of people on a tour speaking in a language I didn't recognize. There were smaller tour groups as well. This section of the city feels very safe. The local people don't exchange smiles are looks as you pass. They have what I interpret as a Slavic/Russian appearance.They dress with a style that is simple, economical, yet classy. It feels eastern European.

The city feels a little run down but aspiring to become something good. My room reflects the city. It has these upscale elements and finishings and the there is a small patch unpainted and a section of damaged wood trim. It's a city 95% of the way there but lacking the last 5%. Loads of graffiti covers many surfaces.

This section of the city is late night party central. Fortunately the windows are double so I barely hear anything.

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The gradual sleep adjustment and being in a bed again combined for me to wake up feeling refreshed this morning. The blog needed my attention for a time before I grabbed some breakfast and headed out.

The area around the Main Square of Zagreb was a happening place today! The fresh veggies and fruit in the grocery store yesterday were meager, but the market today was incredible!! The produce was exceptional! I purchased a few items for a couple of days. There seemed to be some political and music activities on the square. I thought I'd watch, but my day took me other places. It was a big draw for the locals based on all the people I saw in the heart of the city on a Saturday.

Coffee is always on the agenda in the mornings. The Filteraj coffe shop had five stars on Google so I slipped in. They have very pleasant patio/garden seating. The outside temperatures were still cool with a strong breeze from the east.

The next stop was the Zagreb City Museum. Many things had descriptions in English. It stretched for three floors with a top floor dedicated to the local mountaineering. Zagreb was two cities, Gradec and Kaptol, until the 18th century. The first community in the area dates back to the 7th century B.C. with the Roman presence from the 1st to the 5th centuries AD. Stone fortresses were built during the Ottoman period out of fear but attacks never came. The Jewish Synagogue was destroyed in 1941 as the leaders at the time subscribed to anti-semitism. After WWII the communists took control when Croatia became part of Yugoslavia. Croatia declared independence from Yugoslavia in 1991, but the Serbs living within the territory were unhappy resulting in wars until 1995 when Croatia forces decisively won. The long history of communities, conflict, fires, and economic cycles meant people used available resources so a clean archeological record of Zagreb is virtually non-existent.

After purchasing a sandwich I sat on the steps of the Croatian National Theatre and watched the people streaming by. Actually I was stunned and the numbers of people. An analogy would be at rail of ants. One end must of been Main Square, but I never figured out where the other end was. It was lovely to see so many people, families, couples, and friends out walking.

The Nikola Tesla Technical Museum was my next stop. I would have very much enjoyed some central air conditioning as I looked at the exhibits. Again, many descriptions were in English. I was struck by the fact that many of the items were made locally. There were early electronic brands, cars, and machinery I'd never heard of. There was an exhibition room with experiments of Nikola Tesla with demonstrations presented through two videos - on in Croation/Serb and the second in English. Nikola Tesla grew up in Croatia.

From here I wandered the streets and parks of the city. I watched the sun set from high up in Gradec looking down on the old and new city that stretched to the Sava river.