Rijeka Adventures

Friday evening, we set out on a great journey.
The Grand Vizier, the EvilCatTM stayed behind to hold the fort, while husband, Pupastis first the Magnificent, our Basset and I set out into the far away lands of the sea (or as far away as an hour and half drive will get you).

The first stop was somewhere around midnight, on a petrol station by the highway, where we engaged in a half an hour long mystic ritual known as Changing The Car Lightbulb On the Driver's Side Of A VW Golf.  Seeing how there is about 5 cm space between the car lights and the car battery, this was in equal parts frustrating, puzzling, hilarious, and dirty. The Magnificent one helped keep us on our toes by sitting on the driver's seat and occasionally switching on the blinkers.

We arrived in Rijeka somewhere around 1:30 AM, to be greeted by the Grand old Bug, the family Labrador Grand Duke of some 15  years, and the horrible monster Doctor Ferdinand TinyCat, the resident evil scientist in feline form.

Now, Pupastis first the Magnificent has already met this creature some weeks back, while it was still learning it's evil crafts, and had defeated it successfully by covering it in her drool, the stickiest, ickiest substance known to man, but now the monster had grown, and it was clear that she will have her work cut out for her. All through the night we could hear her muttering to herself and scratching on the door, anxious to face this foul fiend.
In the morning, we bade our brave ally farewell and good luck, left her with the Queen of the house and Dr TinyCat's human henchman, and set off to get some culture.

We visited the Naval and History Museum of Rijeka, situated in the Governor's Palace, where many strange things were witnessed.
Amongst others a pair of odd statues:

And a desk that seems more fitting for the office of the Patrician of Ankh Morpork:

 We  learned more about Mr Gabriele d'Annunzio, an Italian poet who on the 12th of September 1919, led the seizure of the city by 2,000 Italian nationalist irregulars of the city, leading them on in his red Fiat 501. He then proceeded to throw gigantic parties all over the city and in the Palace itself, declare Rijeka/Fiume an independent state, and declared himself a Duce. D'Annunzio ignored the Treaty of Rapallo and declared war on Italy itself, only finally surrendering the city in December 1920 after a bombardment by the Italian navy.

We also visited the Museum's exhibition of all things sailboat, where husband, an old sea wolf that he is, instructed me in the names of some knots, and where I completely failed to recognize any ship types in the numerous paintings hanging on the walls. Really, what is the difference between a barque and a galleon? I am ashamed to say that I do not know.

We then drove to the nearby historic town of Kastav, 378 m above the sea, filled with strange narrow, winding streets and remnants of old churches and thick city walls (though, who could have reached the city that high up is a mystery to me). We also visited the churchyard, with old marble graves set in an arched hallway leaning on the church, and where I hung out with some old church bells:

 When we finally got home, (after meeting some friends of ours who we see all too rarely), we witnessed the horrific balcony-jungle battle:

 The image itself is somewhat obscured by the smoke coming from husband's cigarette the burning wreckage of evil Doctor TinyCats laboratory, and we watched in shock and awe at the epic battle before us. This horrible duel continued all through our lunch, but Pupastis First the Magnificent emerged, at last, victorious, the evil fiend once again defeated by her awesome drool-powers and then promptly dispatched to the bathtub by the Queen of the house, all under the watchful eye of The Grand Duke himself.

We departed soon after the victory celebrations of ice cream and Turkish coffee, our brave heroine firmly asleep under my feet.