august 1959.
The big trip to Vodice, near Šibenik, for our second vacation. This one I remember, in flashes.
First, before leaving, we wanted to have a few parting shots (with the new camera, a regula IIIa, by Ghetaldus Zagreb), and grandma rushed into the house to get a stool on which to prop me, and in that rush she stumbled and fell. Got a bit of a bump on the forehead, which never quite went away.
The bus trip seems to have involved visit to those aunts in Belgrade, as they saw us to the station. I had a rubber or plastic ball in a fishnet bag (but that must have been some other trip, as this negative contains a visit to some people in some unknown part of Belgrade, I recognize none). I probably mixed up any images from the bus with those from the movie H-8 and from the same trip two years later. I do remember one detail from the break we had at Plitvice cascades - there was a big tree felled, and mom took a shot of me standing in front of the cut with my hands raised and my fingers were barely reaching the upper rim. I had sun glasses, first ever, ugly by today's (or next decade's) standards, but hey, sun glasses! And a cap with a sun shield. The motel there by the road was probably one of the few fancy new buildings I visited, with metal pillars holding the thin flat concrete roof above the terrace - don't remember that, though, saw the pics.
The eyepiece on the regula was a bit off, shifted up, so it introduced its own parallax and produced pictures which were either chopped off at the top, like this one, or compensated against by moving away, like many others. Dad and I are somewhere on the last picture, almost visible if you know where to look.
Next I remember we were hosted by a local family there, and it seems my feet were swelling in those white plastic sandals (bought along with a beach ball, and a plastic water bottle with the glass doubling as the outer lid - that bottle is still with us, and still holds water - all made by Jugoplastika of Split, which is no more). I also had a little shovel and bucket for the sand (made of thin metal, with wooden handle, plastic being too valuable and weak then). They poured me some water into a small vat - made of wood! - and the water was cold (another shock) to wash my feet and cool them off. Then I frequently watched how these dalmatian women carry such vats on their heads, often holding them with nothing but a bit of a soft pad they'd put on the head. Hand would hold it only when lifting and lowering - all the walk was in perfect ballance. Later I heard this was the reason they walk so graciously. The first Miss Yugoslavia, some 8 years later, was from Dubrovnik.
All the houses in the inner village were like this - made of hewn stone and some heavy timber, with stone floors on the ground and raw smooth wooden planks upstairs, not painted nor dyed, with heavy wooden shutters on the windows (the bura can be severe, and the sun can be tough in the summer), not plastered much in the last few decades, maybe just the doorframe was smoothed out.
While the village was mostly the same as it ever was - even most of its coast was not paved, there was just one narrow concrete pier, the church was spanking new, with fancy lights, the new style we started seeing around.
I didn't pay much attention to the guy wearing funny, full length dress and heavy shoes in the august swelter. Later, when I saw this picture, it still wasn't clear to me why would the other two guys talk with him so seriously.
The host's son let me ride a donkey a few times. I got quite used to be in the water.
One part of the beach had sand and was paved a bit, and this shallow part was also protected from the waves, which are never too big at this part of the coast, it being sheltered by the islands just a couple of kilometers to the shore. Looking at this picture I can't but notice how many people were there, the workers' tourism was already apace, and how sparse everything is - no umbrellas, deck chairs, inflatables, not even towels. I wonder if there was a shower - considering that the village didn't have running water, I somehow think not. I got so used to being in the water, they had trouble getting me out of it.
The final shots were in the Šibenik port, which I'll learn to know much later, when I get to serve there. So I guess there was no road to Vodice (which is no more than a dozen km away), just boat. Rowing or diesel, I don't remember. Surely no sails, it's bonaca (bonazza probably) at dusk, the sea is flat as a mirror.
Mentions: 02-VI-1982., regula, in serbian
13-IV-2017 - 17-VII-2024