Even at 4.20 in the morning there is a good-looking local to help me after I’ve dragged my luggage (noisily) a zillion steps down the hillside to the bus station.
This nice local tells me when the airport bus arrives and even stops to endorse me properly to the driver. Grateful, always grateful for the kindness of strangers.
I press my nose against the window for one last glimpse of Dubrovnik as the plane makes its way up the Croatian coast.
Two hours later I am back in lovely, friendly, polite, immaculate Zurich Airport (where the impeccably groomed transfer guy flashes a gleaming smile and tells me to Relax! It’s a nice day), back on the train that plays cow bells and moos.
My favorite Swiss later tells me the train actually used to be painted black and white, like a real cow! I love this place.
*****
From the bottom of my heart, hvala, Hrvatska. Thank you for the priceless memories, for the enduring peace of mind, and the soul-restoring joy.
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