More Old Towns, More Scary Bell Towers

I just asked the kids what they remembered from today: Andrew got to charge his Nintendo 3DS, Natalie got adventurous and tried a sandwich she didn't think she would like--and she was right, she didn't like it--and Allison liked walking up another bell tower. I really expected Allison's highlight to be petting two cats this morning. This town is kitty heaven; cats roam everywhere, and Allison spots each one.

Today we drove to Klis, a nearby town that has a medieval fortress. When we got there, we hiked up the steps to the entrance, where we found it is closed on Mondays. Fortunately for us, a tour group had scheduled a private visit, and the guy at the door let us come in anyway, with a stern warning that we had 45 minutes. Still had to pay, though.


Medeival Low-Flow Toilets

The Venetians reconstructed and added to it, as well as the Austrians. If it weren't for all the reconstruction going on in the fortress, this is the place that children could run around for hours lost in their own imaginations. As it was, we had to restrain ourselves from climbing the scaffolding that was placed around the site at different intervals, and try to imagine what this place would look like without the beer bottles and the plastic lawn chairs that look to be imported straight from WalMart. Still pretty cool. Especially the little guard's corner of the wall, whatever it's called, and another that looked identical but appeared to have been the toilet. Talk about a low-flow toilet--this one's not using any extra water at all! 

I took a picture of Andrew in the little guard thing, and then it seemed to be very important to Allison to take the exact same picture. I was immediately brought back to my big sister Kim's high school graduation, when my parents took photos of her in cap and gown in the backyard, and I pitched a fit until I got to do the same thing. I think I was even a year older than Allison. Kim was a very wonderful big sister and put up with a lot. For that matter, so did Karen. Dave, though you had numerous virtues as an older brother, I'm not giving you the same praise, sorry. But we both know why.

From Klis, we ventured to Trogir, a town similar to Split's old town--ancient buildings and narrow streets, old cathedrals and towers. This one was an island, barely, as we had to walk across a maybe 10 foot long bridge to get to it. Before making the great journey, we ate some sandwiches at the market stalls. Trogir was just gorgeous. I keep saying that. But it's true. We did climb the bell tower there, which was less windy but had more space between the metal steps for 8 year olds to fall through, so I was just as nervous. It's so unnerving to find out you're a stereotypical anything, and I'm just that--stereotypical mother. We also began our photographic collection of stone angels (yes, another Doctor Who reference)--Rachel and Abby, these are for you.

After touring the city, trying Brian's patience and his currency supply with a little shopping (got an awesome bracelet after foregoing the even awesomer one that cost a lot more), and having some long-begged-for ice cream cones, we got back in the car to take a drive up the coast a ways. This may have been a mistake in judgment, deciding to drive unnecessary miles when we are about to drive 7 hours tomorrow to Venice, and only one of us is licensed (or able) to drive the car. Never said we had good judgment. We got a little insight into the state of sib relationships after so much time together; we drove past a tiny "island" with nothing but trees, and Natalie said "That's where I want to build a house and live--right there." Maybe we need some more alone time.

We took the highway back, caffeinating the driver so he could make it home. Turned on the iPod for some driving music and plugged in my sister Karen and her husband Bruce's wedding reception playlist--an odd juxtaposition driving past ancient towns while singing along with the Partridge Family and Queen. The caffeine must've worked because Brian is out running right now.

It must be time to stop, because I've heard the second movement of the electronic air freshener. The dining room and the bathroom are each equipped with one, and they make a strange scratching sound periodically as they spritz the room with fresh flowers and other fake smells. I wondered why, when we first entered, it smelled like my Grandma's house--I remember the smell from the days in the 70s when the small, solid volcano-shaped Renuzits would slowly evaporate in a good number of the houses of southeast Grand Rapids. Goes with the Partridge Family music, I guess. Better go before I hear the air freshener again!

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