Pristine and pebbly, the beach is the perfect setting for stretching, napping and replenishing energies after three days of bus journeys. I decide to dare the logic behind European seasons and quickly dip into the surprisingly warm waters of the Adriatic in late October.

Once the autumnal breeze lowers the air temperature to a perfectly set twenty two degrees Celsius, I walk past an impressively solid Roman gate and enter a charming pedestrianised Old Town of holidaymakers buying slices of pizza accompanied with local wine served in plastic cups.

A group of Chinese pile by the Forum and stare at the bubbles blown by a couple of hippies next to to Santa Anastasia Cathedral.  I purchase a smoked salmon-and-lettuce sandwich and get a hold of a small bottle of white wine.

Along with most tourists in the late afternoon of Zadar, I enjoy my food as I sit by the sea organ and relax at the mellow sounds produced by the small waves crashing against the concrete. I finish my wine in time for the sun to set over Ugljan Island, reflecting upon the ‘Greeting to the Sun’ as mirage of Adriatic beauty.

With the first rays of sun in the fresh morning, I walk the short distance to the bus station and join fellow tourists that board the first coach out of Zadar towards Plitvice National Park. A modern motorway climbs from the bifurcation where city ends and mountain begins, entering a series of tall viaducts and tunnels that perforate through the Dalmatians in a straight line towards Zagreb.

The weather dramatically changes as the bus gains altitude and emerges from the longest tunnel in Croatia to trade the cloudless sky of Zadar for a bone-chilling freezing fog at the Plitvicka Mountains.

Leaving the motorway, we cut through several small villages of green fields and skinny grazing goats. The bus parks at the National Park’s main entrance and when stepping off the bus I realise that, on shorts and a shirt, I am dramatically underdressed for the wet ten degrees Celsius of the mountains. It soon becomes a fast tour not due to time constrains, but to keep warm.

Studying the map provided and, with the longest circuit suggested to be completed in seven hours, I decide to half that time and add a little bit,  powering through wooden trails set over turquoise lagoons and mighty white rapids.

Having been suggested to overlook the ‘Closed Trail’ signs, I climb over the fence for closer views of the waterfalls as I carefully set my wet steps over a flimsy-looking wooden platform. From the top of it all, I can see how Plitvice National Park is a combination of a series of lakes – a total of sixteen- arranged in numerous cascades rich in fluorides, calcium, minerals and bacteria that combined form the travertine walls that give the shores their dramatic colours and shapes.

I cross one of the largest lakes on a free and short boat ride in which a Korean family of fifteen make improvised conversations in broken English and take pictures with me.

After five and a half hours of power walking, I surrender to a cup of hot tea and a sandwich at the small restaurant located by the main gate in best intention to shelter from the shivering cold and waiting for my return bus to Zadar.
Down in the mild coast again, it is an evening of relaxing at the hostel. Wine in hands, I work on finalising a college presentation on Central America and later go on a hunt for some grilled sea bass for dinner.

As a golden rule in this trip, I wake up in the middle of the night to grab my belongings and leave for the airport in darkness, joining a queue of sour-faced passengers for the Dublin flight waiting for the terminal to open by napping on the marble floor.  I fall asleep as soon as I set a foot on the airplane cabin, briefly feeling the loud vibration of our take off over the Dalmatian Mountains and finally waking up when the coast of Wexford is ahead and we prepare for landing in a sunny and cold Dublin.

Over the loudspeaker, the captain has announced an undetermined incident at Terminal One, which forces me to wait longer at customs and miss my presentation at the university. I drive to the office instead and at six in the afternoon, when I finally reach my apartment and unpack, I also unpack the memories of a fast-paced adventure of grilled sea bass, apple tea, karst mountains and sharp accents, a true adventure across the Dalmatians.