august 1965.
(the parts under quotation marks are from that brief diary)
First. "Today we had a visit. One friend of dad came to us into visit with family. His daughter Sneca has finished third grade like me, and the younger - Veca - first. We played and talked of who learned what at school and read what. Sadly the visit lasted only a few hours."
Fifth. "For two days we have guests. Uncle, aunt and the little Aleksandar. I play with Aleksandar. When he gets angry, I read to him and play [accordeon], so he forgets those little fights. Dad, mom and I execute the last preparations for the trip to the sea."
("execute + noun" where a verb would do was the fashion of the time, discredited long since, but somehow surviving to this day. I still hate it when I hear it, and even more when I see I was taught to use it)
Sixth. "Today we travel. To Belgrade the way is monotonous. Similar to Zagreb. On the high-way we had a flat tire. The malfunction was quickly removed and the voyage continued. Impatiently I expected my repeat encounter with the sea. Almost all passengers were asleep, only the stewardess and I were awake. She by duty, I because of impatience. Finally at Rijeka I saw the sea. It was so smooth that the lamps were mirrored on it. Later I got asleep and woke up near Zadar."
This was the vacation with my parents to Premuda, the farthest island in the Kornati achipelago. They weren't a tourist destination at all, not yet. They were just beginning, the way Vodice did a few years ago, with food arranged in a communal kitchen, where the cook may have been one of the guests, and sleeping in vacant rooms of local sailors.
It was magnificent. First, the trip was by one of the new buses, going straight from our city to Zadar. The bus was pure luxury - tall seats (first time I saw that), white cloth over the headpiece, blankets handed for the night (it was a red-eye), an on-board toilet (which is extremely rare even nowadays) and, tada - a stewardess. I think I fell in love a bit.
(we had some time for a stroll over the fortress, the ship was scheduled for the afternoon and then arrived there at dusk)
Then, the station in Zadar, 10 m from the sea itself. OK, it's the city bay, but still. Then the boat, a real passenger diesel, deck about 8m wide, with seats, stairs and whatnot, and the perfectly azure sea and clean sunny sky.
Ah, the "we" - we had Milosava as a house friend with us. She must have divorced that pilot that winter, then. I remember lots of cards were played, and that I also killed a lot of time, when not on the beach, playing two or three kinds of solitaire.
(from left - mom, Milosava, host family)
The family where we lodged was nice, and lots of things they did were so different from what and how we did. First of all, olive oil instead of sunflower; well inside the house and not behind it (although I'm not sure it's a well - may as well be a rainwater cistern). No electricity; what light there was was powered by acetilene; the so-called carbide lamps that the fishers used a lot, where they'd hang overboard and lure fish at night. Don't remember what our hosts used, maybe candles - I was just too tired by sunset and would get to sleep with the dusk. Simple floorboards and no dust on them, amazing. Well, when you're on a hilltop, surrounded by the sea, there isn't much dust to start with. Donkeys braying at any time of day, specially once the church bells wake them up. People carrying things around on donkeys - no cars, no roads, no bicycles. Your choice of transportation is walking to the coast and then taking a boat.
(some folks whom I don't remember, I'd say from Zagreb, and mom. The actual beach is behind them, on the right)
The path from the dock (on the east side of the island) was incredibly steep, yet quite manageable, with steps properly hewn or cemented.
The path down to the beach, on the west side, was less steep and I walked it up and down twice a day. After a couple of days I switched to walking barefoot and carrying the apostolke, even though it was a bit thorny in places, and the pebbles may have been a bit sharp here and there, but I mostly walked it barefoot. The apostolke (plastic thong flipflops) I had were too, well, slippery for that slope.
The beach was an arbitrary length of egg-sized round pebbles - as far as you cared to go - with a hint that one shouldn't go too far south, because on the other hill there was a military outpost, which one could see from a few places, with antenna etc. There weren't so many of us tourists then, and walking on egg-sized pebbles (there weren't any smaller ones yet) wasn't easy, even when shod, so we used the little fishers' harbor as the beach. The stones were smooth enough, and you could swim on the outside - though I preferred to do it on the inside, among the boats. They were mostly sails and oars, a few larger ones with sails and a diesel. I dived under the smaller boats, didn't try the big ones.
Host's son once came home, between tours of duty, and he took me swimming across, to the little island of Masarini, maybe 200m across the little harbor. Unforgettable. There's actually a little lake on that island, just a few meters across. That's on the east side; on the west, there's a sheer cliff. The stone is being eaten by finger shells and the waves - there's nothing between it and Italy. Which he said you can not see from there, too low - maybe just 10m above water - but on a clear day, from the village, yes. He once took me in his boat to see the other side, it's really scary, I imagine it would be hard to stay alive if the waves throw you on those sharp stones.
(all the photos from that time had this curly edge, which was considered posh and also made it easier to leaf through a stack of those small, 60x90mm photos; couple of years later I'll not only learn that this is not how the photo paper is made - it's cut straight in the factory - I'll operate the knife with the helical jagged edge on my own)
(The Masarin can be seen on this picture, it's that white stripe on the horizon on the left side)
He had a transistor [radio], bought somewhere on a long trip. I don't know whether that was the first one I ever saw, but I was impressed all the same.
Fifteenth. "I am located on a small island near Zadar. Weather is nice, so I can always bathe and sunbathe. I perfected swimming and learned how to dive with underwater fishing gear. Bought an angler too so I angle. I have a friend who has a boat and I already row myself. My new friends found an accordeon and gladly listen to me [play], they love 'March on Drina' the best. I am sorry we already have to think of return."
The gear was a simple mask with a snorkel using a ping pong ball as a valve. The angler was just a piece of cork with fishing line spooled on it, and a little hook. No rod, no spool.
Twentyfirst. "The holiday of my parents is already near [its] end so we are returning home. We are passing the nicest ends of our country. The road leads us over Velebit. It is a big mountain. The side which is turned to the sea is all carst, and the other side - in greens. I saw, through dusk, the Plitvice lakes. The air was so sharp I immediately asked to eat."
As for the „March on Drina“, the movie was out last fall, and the song itself becaame insanely popular within weeks, it's been played everywhere, there's even a single with it by, wait for it, The Shadows.
p.s. the diving gear lasted for, perhaps, one more year, and then the fins were too small for my foot, and the rubber got old, the buckle rusted.
Mentions: Aleksandar Zarin, Milosava Pajdački, Snežana Stojanović (Sneca), Vera Stojanović (Veca), Zadar, in serbian
28-VI-2020 - 25-III-2026