Lovran,
Croatia is wa-ay too picturesque for words.
Fair 'nuff.
But until yesterday, I was finding it fiendishly difficult to
do with pictures either. Some days the sun
wasn't out. Flat light makes for dull pix. One day
I forgot to put a freshly-charged battery in my trusty camera.
(runs around behind self and kicks himself inna butt)
The Kvarner Gulf is like S.F. Bay surrounded by mountains, and both
subtropical and northern flora. A string of resort towns
lines the western side of the gulf. Northernmost is the
biggest, the somewhat tacky Opatija.
An hour leisurely walk along the Lungomare
(paved
waterfront path) brings you to the tiny harbor of Lovran.
Having a pack, I cheated and took the bus.
Above the harbor is a tiny medieval old town, the outer wall of which
backs
against "my" house.
There's my digs: second floor, with the shutters open.
Note the
self-portrait in the old-fashioned dressing table mirror.
As I write, booths and a stage are being set up across the street for
National
(independence) Day tomorrow, and the annual Chestnut Festival this
weekend.
The chestnut festival is
called Marunada.
Sounds like "maroon". Is there a connection?
Is there a reason that the German editions of
Harry Potter always translate "maroon" as "chestnut brown"?
Contents Copyright 2012 Jeff Bulf