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This weekend the sun had stretched over all the 7 castles *, it put its feet to soak in the sea with a relish, and threw its back on to the mountain .
The sun had the effect of an alarm clock and shook the Kastelans out of the winter hibernation. With an explosion they surfaced from the dusty cocoons of home, shooting mothballs out of spring sleeves, natural inertion pulling them like a compass needle in the direction of north, and onto the mountain Kozjak**.
They spread out over the mountain like hunting hounds, all as one wearing mountain galoshes, and proceeded to goat-skip along rocky paths, sniffing out violets.
On Kozjak one can encounter mostly the descendants of old Kastelan families who still recall the family roots in the ruins of villages named Pear and Liar located on the slopes. Once those families had escaped from the mountain to live by the sea running away before the invasion of Turks. To the contrary they now run away from the sea to the mountain, to try escape their own families.
Apart from those jouncing about the mountain, a number of them had started to construct stone cottages and huge fire places.
The mountain hit was not started by those form Kaštela. On them mountain live two men from Imotski*** , each has built himself a ranch, or better said they had brought Imotski to the sea
Alongside cottages they planted olives, and set loose ducks and chickens, donkeys and pheasants, cats and cocks , and every true lover of the mountain has at some point wondered on to a ranch. The men from Imotski proved to be of the merry sort, thus each wondering visitor was invited to taste fish, cured and barbecued meats, vine and cakes. The curious would watch the sunset from the mountain over the Kastela bay, Split****, and islands, they would warm up by the fire place ,join in a few songs, leaving for home quite enchanted. They would not fail to return once and than a hundred times to the ranch, naturally becoming apostles to the gents from Imotski, with a heart set to to spreading the fatih and an intention to build their own mountain ranch.
The sold off family heritage lands are now being bought back agian, brambles are being cleared, the olive trees are trimmed, hoards of goats are ordered and deep reflection is dedicated to making a decision on the purchasing of a jeep or a transport-donkey . Everyone wants their own sweet ranch and Kozjak iz back in fashion.
Even Split's gentle folk who turned their noses away from Kaštela for decades suddenly want to plant them self’s here .One can notice them like drunk snakes slithering from one Mountaineering home to the next, readying their dowry of beef-stew, vine and cakes, offering themself up for marriage to the natives, all in order to remain on Kozjak.
Indeed, not so bad in Kozjak, it is. And who would not return after sliding on their bottom and a washing machine lid down the cement ore slopes screaming in adrenalin and delight?. On Kozjak there are many secret spots concealed by the bushes, sources of sweet spring drinking water, brooks filled with chameleons and frogs, spots of edible mushrooms and the possibilities of encounters with animals, available to all who answer to that call of spring, tennis shoes, track suit, a bottle of vine and the wild.
Info point:
* Seven Castles built next to the sea in the period from 12th century to 16th century on a natural bay, between Split and Trogir and now are all known as Kaštela. People eventualy spread out to live out of the castle grounds and now the 7 casltes have merged into a long riviera seaside town. The Split air-port is located in Kaštela. People living in Kastela are caled Kaštelani or Kastelans.
**Mountian Kozjak is part of the Kaštela and rises to the north of the town. Kozjak means Goat mountain.
*** Imotski is a farming province north-east of Kaštela, known for village life, small farms, beautiful lakes, and the votka Akvila is produced there.
**** Split city is few km south-east of Kaštela, second bigest city in Croatia, and can bee seen from the mountain.
Imagine you and I are having coffee together in the sun. We would tell one another other stories. Have giggles. Most stories here are observations and accounts of certian bemusing events in the days of an artist. Events I wish to remember and think may amuse you too. The illustrations I drew. The protagonists are real. Should you have a coffee time story to share, write it back to me.Now if you are ready for a break, get a coffee, draw a chair, let me tell you what happened the other day :
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