Bol of Fun
Trip Start Aug 01, 2006
35Trip End Dec 29, 2006
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We got on the small ferry with a bunch of Germans. Past the harbor it got windy and a little bouncy. Collette curled up on my lap trying to get small to hide from both. We were sitting on the top and we could look down and see the bow. A couple of times the boat would hit a particularly large wave and the Germans in the front would get thoroughly splashed
The ferry docked and we were immediately met with Boris. Boris was a straight-up guy. In the fifteen minutes it took to walk to his apartments/house he had told us that he was a mathematician, a teacher, and that he was honest and what was money. After he reached the house we asked him what his name was and he said "Borivoi, but some of my friends and people who stay here call me Boris, this I do not like, my name is not short for anything and this Boris makes no sense." He also voiced his displeasure on alcohol and the English, "The bar is over here but I do not like to drink, the English come here and the first thing they ask is where is the bar, I tell them and then they spend the whole time there without ever going to the beach, they come from civilization to spend their time in such a place, I do not understand." You did not even notice he was saying something negative because he was such a pleasant guy and he had no animosity toward anything he was talking about. He was just relating the truth on how he felt "Truly!!" and that was that. Later when we toured the city we paused in the main square and he said, "Oh, there is the church, it is Catholic" and with out pausing to gauge our reaction he continued," I do not like these Catholics, do you know what they pray for, they pray for money, and cars, and motorcycles, it is true, this is what they pray
The "weird thing" about our room in Bol was that it wasn't finished. It was rather loud at night because the glass doors that were supposed to be there weren't. This was our fault since we wanted an upstairs room with a balcony. The tile in the kitchen was only half complete and everywhere on the walls were nests of wires sticking out. Boris would take us on tours of the place, explaining in great detail his projects and their difficulties. "Look here, I had to make another cut to make this piece fit". When he finished talking of his work he would blast the lameness of contractors and the poor quality of their work. I felt two things: One was that some things truly crossed borders and two that I had taken many of my friends on similar tours and I now wonder if they might have been a tad too long. To this end I sincerely apologize to all of those people.
Bol is stretched out along the coast and has only one small harbor. However, I highly recommend the hot chocolate in the café. One of the major attractions of Bol is a large triangular shaped beach (Zlatni Rat) that juts about a half mile out into the Adriatic.
Collette particularly liked Bol, not only for the beach and the random dog and kitten, but because she had a new 4 year-old playmate staying in another room. His name was Leon and his Croatian mother had taken him from Zagreb to Bol help him improve his health. Leon had no hair but in all other aspects appeared to be perfectly healthy and full of vigor. He had a gentle and inquisitive nature about him and Collette treated him like he was her underpaid employee or like a brother. In other words, badly. At one point after Collette grabbed his cup he was digging with (she had the exact same cup of her own in her other hand) it made him mad enough to lock himself in his room
Later that evening Boris was going to lead Christy and I and a German woman to a restaurant. In the meantime we decided to check out a local festival that was starting at six. We arrived at the wharf and saw rows of tables on the waterfront laden with food of all kinds. Boris saw one of his old students and I asked if he was a good student. Boris laughed, "Not so good this one, perhaps it better that he is the butcher." We meekly approached the tables to ask how much and were happily surprised to hear the response, "Free". I was trying to not be the "American Pig" but I fulfilled and then surpassed any stereotypes. In fifteen minutes I had accumulated a small pile of plastic plates that once contained, "goulash, fried scallops, fish pate, mussels, mousaka, sausages, cake...I am embarrassed to go on
Alternating with the band was a two-man band. Boris knew the band and its singer," This guy, you know, every time he sings about things that are bad and sad, makes me want to kill myself and I want to forget I have ears." Collette in the meantime was running with a group of kids that resembled wild dogs, if wild dogs could ever have that much energy
Since the restaurant trip was postponed we headed for it the next evening. With Boris as our faithful guide Christy, myself, Heike (German friend), and a new German woman, walked down the road to the square, past the harbor and then up a step road to end at a small restaurant. The guy who ran it was talkative (in both English and German) and very friendly. The restaurant had three terraces. We sat at a large table on the second terrace with a view of the sea and the rising moon. Luckily Collette was asleep so we could relax and enjoy the company of other adults (the restaurant guy insisted on wrapping her in two different blankets). The elder German woman owned a bookstore and in halting English explained the difficulties and minor trials of her job. She was sleep deprived from work and an overnight bus ride, and kept knocking off her glasses with her hand gestures. Heike explained that she worked for an Internet company doing contracts and her hunched shoulders and upturned palms clearly stated that she was tired of her job and that it was a grind. "What can you do?" translates fairly easily. On our part we had a long convoluted and useless conversation about what is a banana slug and did they see it on the shirt in Pulp Fiction. All I heard from the elder woman was her distaste for the movie and that they had difficulty picturing such a bizarre and hideous creature. How long is it?" Heike would ask with upturned eyebrows, "this long I would respond holding up my hands she would suck in her breath between her teeth and shake her head. In the end we promised to send her a UCSC banana slug shirt so she can be the envy of Germany.
After dinner our host gave us some fine walnut liquor that reminded both of us of France
With reluctance (and non-refundable ferry tickets) we prepared to leave Bol. Under the hot sun with our luggage sprawled around us like nudists we waited for the bus. There were several reasons we were reluctant to leave. One was that Boris had expressed his displeasure and disapprovement of a unique festival that was to take place the Sunday we left. Boris explained that at 5:00 PM, as the last ferry was leaving, many of the town members would jump off the pier and into the water. It was a celebration to mark the end of the season (I assume tourists season but it was never clear). It had the right mixture of absurdity and action that greatly appeals to me. I even was tempted to buy one of the t-shirts that commemorated this festival but I had no idea what they said and Boris was too disgusted to explain it to me.
Bol so far was one of our highlights, not just because of the place but because of the people and connections we had made. Thank you Borivoi and Antica for being such `
entertaining and thoughtful hosts, and thanks to Leon, Andrea and Heike, for your company and companionship, not only to us but to our daughter.
1. I felt that I had to give David Sedaris credit due to his imposing demeanor and intimidating stature.
2. See other rants on smokers and people who split checks elsewhere.
3. One must be careful with words. It turns out that stigmata has a completely different meaning.