Having rushed to the bust stop to make it for 16.30 to catch the only bus to the south side of the island, I was smacked on the head by insurmountable heat, and the slow fusion of relisation which was entering my brain first as a possibility, than as a probability, and eventually as a good enough reason to panic.
There was no, bus leaving the north side of the island for the south, the time of year is wrong for there to be buses. It still not the tourist season, therefor there are no more buses after the ferry leaves the island. Whoops. Why is it always so darn hot at this bus stop. ?
I stood a while just to catch my breath, and than decided I will catch any bus - if there are any buses going anywhere. As the decision fell, a mini bus turned up. I recognized the driver form working years ago on the island- hopped on and to make conversation joyfully asked about his lady wife..
He spurted out what is it that you know about my wife.?. Surprised by the tone of the usually friendly driver from the north - I replied " Well I remember you telling me about your darling lady wife whom you fell in love with and who was the reason for your coming to live on the island." "Well we had divorced "- the man replies- " Now she has become a bus driver- the only woman bus driver in Croatia- and she works for my old company in the main land- she drives those big proper buses I used to drive before I had met her".. . Right, I have put a foot in it a bit realized, and having reached the main road out of Stari Grad, I jump out of the mini bus leaving the bus driver grumbling about his tragic love
At the road side I observed the wild flowers, new species which I had not noticed before and cocnluded that it is a good thing after all, that I recharged the camera battery , as this would be good time to study indigenous sorts of flowers growing in Hvar. I will most probably be obliged to walk all those miles across the island, whilst be looking at the road, thus can study the flora at the same time. Its probably the only time to do this in my life, a real chance actually , the being stuck here.
However before opening up the rucksack to are reaching for the camera- I just sort of - without thinking, put my thumb up in the air over the road. It was the survival instinct I suppose which made me do it. I mean other than that crazy German grandma who I had met on the mountain this morning, who in their right minds walks across such a huge island?
My thumb just went up, when a patrol police car passed by. Whoops I thought and pulled my hand down, trying to looks as inconspicuous and as least tourist attempting to stop a ride as possible -with a huge ruck sack on my back and an English straw hat. Hitch hiking is illegal- the police could have given me a fine.
The cops cruised by, and my thumb went right back up. Two man in a van saw me and stopped. They opened their doors and produced big inviting smiles which welcomed me in. Several miles later at the island ferry port, the lads let me get on with my life on the road.
Standing at the road side once again I lifted my hand, the ferry port was the last civilized stop before many miles of wilderness, and darkness, and tunnel and who knows what else one encounters walking across the island when sun sets.
The cops I had seen earlier, drove up again wearing Italian cop glasses, and stern unsmiling faces, the police car stopped at the road crossing, both looked over smugly at me, and one of them cleared up the back seat of the police car. He than cranked a back door ajar- and stared at me waiting. I understood this as an invitation- and jumped into the police car.
Having explained my lack of bus- surprise- predicament , I continued to chatter. The sternness of the policemen's faces was a bit of a challenge. I had a need to make them smile or talk, stop looking like high school bullies.
The wider and older of the two police men with a black mustache welcomed someone other than his younger , thinner and apparantly silent partner . I discovered that he was originally from Split, the other from Solin, and being myself from Kastela- bemused the police man who said we make a nice triangle. He had moved to the island for the love of a woman- who had left him, who had than left the island too. I commented how it was a common fate to many a man on that island- and re told the story of the bus driver.
The police man asked- if that bus driver is slightly over weight and usually red in the face, offering the name Marjan? I confirmed yes, that is exactly the bus driver who had driven me earlier.
Having expressed gratitude for the police men saving me and taking me to the city of Hvar- I mentioned the meeting of an odd German grandma waking across the island up in the mountains earlier that day. The mustached cop, asked was the lady slightly hunch back and short? I wasn't sure about hunchback. I offered another description of the lady, white hair? The police man confirmed- yes, that 70 year old woman walks the island up and down all year long.
You know every one on the island..? I teased bemused slightly. The mustache answered - well if you are a good police man- you do know every thing about every one- its your job to know everything- a good cop- is a good spy..
We had passed the tunnel form the north to the south of the island, and I kept the chatter flowing.. What is the most problematic town on the island, for making trouble.. ? The cop asked do you mean drunk weekend trouble or other trouble? -The most trouble of any kind. -Yelsa - everything happens in Jelsa he concluded. As soon as the tourist season is over- as soon October hits- the phone calls start coming in, " He has destroyed a wall of my vineyard, he had pulled down a part of the fence, he is stealing my olives". During the tourist season they keep quiet- there isn't a single phone call from the locals- not a single crime- and than when the winter starts the phone calls don't stop coming in. The islanders get bored, they don't have anything better to do- other than stir trouble for their neighbors. "
"Does this mean than you are on holiday during the summer- if no one calls.. ?""Oh no no," laughs the big cop, "Its very busy in the summer.. There are the tourists to take care of.. And they get up to all sorts of activities. The people coming in are all sorts , from every where, including the mafia..".
Oh,.Well it gets interesting than..Oh yes says the cop.. Where shall we drop you off in town,? Where are you going exactley..? The cop curiosity started to appear..He offered three posibilities- as he where driving a taxy. Having firgured out that he is an addict to information- and that during this whole ride - he had not found out my name- I decide to give him a bit of information, so he can categorise me in some way, store me up in his spy brain. Im staying on the other side of the piazza at my cousins, at the park hotel. His moustache twiched as he processed the information , than he smiled and said, thank you for riding with us -in future find us- any time you need a ride..
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