A Croatian Tale Of Two Very Different Nature Experiences
We have officially started our Great Balkans Road Trip! So far our trusty rental car (it’s an Opel Corsa. Don’t even know what that is, but I do know it has butt-warmers, so I love this vehicle) has delivered some truly magical–and absurd–experiences. We are starting in Croatia at Lake Plitvice National Park, and we have realized through two very different days that this is a place best experienced in a complete soaking downpour. Yes. I am serious. Let me explain.
DAY 1: Torrential Downpour
The first day we visited the park, we tromped around in never-let-up, raincoat-zipped-up-to-your-chin, looked-like-you-went-swimming-in-your-pants, puddle-jumping-and-failing, mud-soaked rainstorm. IT WAS MAGICAL. We showed up early, strapped on our (carefully chosen and researched) rainjackets, and ventured forth through the mist.
After a longish walk from the parking lot and a very short boat ride across the lake, we arrived on a misty peninsula just flinging out waterfalls. And we were alone. A few other brave souls had joined us on the ferry, but in the time it took me to dig out my down puffy and zip it around my shivering body and struggle back into my raincoat, they had disappeared.
So we got to discover the upper lakes in complete solitude, with the only sound my shrieks of delight and the raindrops. Lake Plitvice National Park is, as far as I can tell, the Yosemite of Croatia. The big one, the breathtaking natural wonder that you absolutely have to see. It is known for the 16 breathtaking turquoise lakes that cascade into each other with the most beautiful waterfalls, both big and small. The whole place just gurgles with water. The best part is that nifty wooden boardwalks snake all over the upper and lower lakes, and you really get intimate with the falls and the pools. You literally get to walk across them and there is a tiny chance that you might fall in, which in my opinion just improves the overall experience. There are no guardrails, and there are generous gaps in between the wooden slats so you get to see the falls bubbling beneath your toes. The pools are these crystalline, impossibly clear scoops out of the earth, filled with aquamarine water, framed with ferms and reeds, and the whole thing is just so damn perfect.
On our rainy day, we roamed around the upper lakes and could not stop marveling that we had the place entirely to ourselves. The last time I felt this alone in nature was the last time we went backpacking (Snoqaulamie National Forest, Summer 2016, I think we walked less than a mile, WHICH COUNTS), but now I not only had waterfalls to myself but my backpack was blissfully light. All it took to have a sacred nature experience was a Noah’s Ark-style cloudburst.
Once we got to the final lake, we started to see a few brave souls tackling the (extremely muddy) trail. I loved their brightly colored ponchoes and their plucky attitude. It felt that we were all in this together: that we were going to see these lakes through the rain, mud and soaked feet be damned.
Perfect colors.
By the time we got back to the car, my smile was so wide that it didn’t matter that it took many tries for my frozen fingers to unzip my rain jacket. The hot shower back at our adorable guesthouse felt spectacular, and the whole rest of the day had this glow from seeing and experiencing something truly special. I was so grateful for the rain.
DAY 2: Sunshine and Mobs
The second day we visited was a perfect autumnal sunny day, and it was…nice. It really was nice. Being dry was pleasant. But there weren’t fairies dancing around like the day before…probably because they got replaced by busloads of our fellow tourists. We stuck to the lower lakes this time, with grand waterfalls and sweeping views. This time, the boardwalks were like being in a line at Disneyworld.
Instead of animatronic characters conducting a Frozen sing-along, we had umbrella-waving tour guides (unfortunately, they were not singing). For what felt like miles, we all shuffled along in a fairly orderly fashion–occasionally someone went rogue and tried to zoom around in the other lane, just like a car sneaking around a line of traffic on the shoulder, only to be muscled back in line by an incoming crowd–and dutifully took pictures and selfies with the waterfalls and the impossibly blue lake in the background.
This picture is gorgeous BUT A LIE. I managed to grab this in a split second before the boardwalk filled up again. 
Extremely gorgeous, but taken on the one trail that wasn’t a conga line.
We looked at the fishies. We stood in a 40 minute line for a ferry ride across the lake (thank God for the Kindle app). It wasn’t all shoulder to shoulder, though. Ben and I had a great hike back along the lake that was absolutely gorgeous, and we got to eat lunch on the waterfront and shoo away some very brave ducks that wanted our sandwiches. We also descended into a cave on our way back (it was a nice, open cave where sunlight was always visible, thank God), and the water is such a stunning shade of blue-green that the crowds didn’t even bother me. Much. I mean, it was a beautiful day.
But boy, am I glad we had our rainy experience. If I got to choose, I would take the clouds over the crowds any day. Heh heh.
Hi, you brighten my morning😍! I’m not reading your entries in order. Oops. You make me smile. I’m glad your raincoats were good choices. I love your writing, Rachel, hi to Ben.
The Rachel/Ben blog is the only news worth reading. It is a day brightener unlike anything I can ever read in the media. Therefore, my executive decision is that this will be the only news that I read. (Well kinda).
So beautiful!!! And perfect reading during my infusion!!! Enjoy your writing so much!