I knew it was going to be a very long day. I have prepared a huge amount of porridge with banana and apple pieces and a hand of walnuts mixed with sunflower seeds and dried cranberries. My regular elevenses. An onion, a clove of garlic and a few beans were added into the buckwheat I have planned for lunch. The clock in the church tower struck midnight, twelve times with still the same single bell. I’m going to remember this sound just as I remember the voice of a single muezzin calling for prayers around five o’clock in the morning in Amman, when the whole city was still asleep.

I was slowly saying goodbye to Krk and to the Croatian islands as it looked like I was going to take the coast route later on, instead of the islands. They seemed a bit too complicated in the winter time and I felt that maybe that was already enough of complications for now. More and more stuff was falling apart. I tried not to take it into the heart but sometimes it made me feel sad, like the broken frisbee that has travelled for over a year already with me but hasn’t survived all the hits onto the Krk’s stone streets.

I was packing the stuff thinking about over 80 kilometers long ride very soon. The knees were still hurting me and I was a bit worried knowing about at least 12 very steep kilometers up the hill. 8-hours long ferry ride was planned at the end of the day. I had a dream about that ferry the other night. It was sinking. Maybe it was a sign of the fear of the unknown, which I kept quieting down during the day time, but it was coming during the night. Followed by the other fears sometimes.

Panniers packed. Food ready. Three hours of rest now.

Krk, 28 January 2016

 

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