The weather is heating up again, and looks like it will stay that way all the way to Trieste, so we’ll need to get our hours in as early as possible. We do a credible job this morning at getting an early start - up at six, breakfast in the room, instant coffee - and are on the road by about eight.
The first miles of the day are surprisingly pleasant. Croatia isn’t the most cycle friendly of countries, with narrow roads and little biking infrastructure, so I was uncertain what it would be like biking out of Zadar and it’s suburbs. While I was at the bike store yesterday though I saw a bike map for the area and redrew our route for the day based on it. For the first seven miles we bike up the coast close to the shore, mostly on residential streets linked together by a few paths through the woods. The paths are of erratic quality and better suited to mountain bikes or foot, so we did a bit of walking. It was worth it though to enjoy such a quiet start to the day’s ride.
Biking northwest along the coast away from Zadar, toward Petrcane. For a pleasant change, the highway doesn’t follow the coastline here and we rode on quiet residential streets for the first hour.
Eventually we left the coast and resdential network and climbed up to join the highway. We were delighted to find that a rarity had been built along this stretch of road - a paved, separated bike lane. We enjoyed whizzing freely down the few miles to Nin, stopping along the way for a look at the odd Church of Saint Nicholas perched atop a small knoll - a prehistoric burial mound, according to Wikipedia.
Nin is a tiny place, but has a large place in Croatian cultural and religious history. It is largely a tourist attraction now, with its few streets lined with souvenir shops and ice cream stands. There aren’t too many people here this morning, but a surprising number of them have come by bicycle. Nin is at the center of one of the few really flat expanses we’ve seen here in Croatia, very accessible by bikes.
It’s too soon for lunch yet, but we use Nin as our pit stop for the day because it looks like we won’t see anything else down the road. We find a small market to pick up provisions, and bike on. We’re making great time - it’s only about elven, and already we’ve covered twelve miles! At this rate, we’ll get to Pag about dinner time.
East of Petrcane we climbed away from the coast and joined the highway and we’re delighted to find an uncommon occurrence here - a real bike path. We enjoyed a fast coast back to the sea, with the historical town of Nin at the bottom of the descent. In the distance rise the Velebit Mountains, the largest mountain range in Croatia.
Just south of Nin is the XII century church of Saint Nicolas. It is the only surviving early Romanesque church in Croatia. If it looks as much like a fortress as a church to you, that’s because it is. Fortifications were added on top of the original church during the Croatian Ottoman War.
We biked/walked out the plank walkway to the church to get a closer look, but it was locked. Without going inside, there’s not much more up close than you can see from the road.
Nin was an important town in early Croatian history, but most of what exists now is restoration. It came under Venetian rule, but they first exploited it and then burned it down (twice) before abandoning it so that it would not become a stronghold for the Turks.
The IX century pre-Romanesque Church of the Holy Cross, Nin. In the past, Nin was a bishopric; and this church is described as the smallest cathedral in the world.
Branimir, the ruler of Croatia from 879 to 892, at the time Croatia was first recognized as a country by the Pope. When we saw these dates on the base of the statue we were puzzled by them, thinking they must be the dates he was alive. He doesn’t look too childlike though.
Gregor Ninski, the Bishop of Nin, is another important figure in Croatian history. This is one of three statues of this bishop in Croatia, in the same defiant pose (he opposed the Catholic Church and the use of Latin). The best known one is in the Diocletian Palace in Split.
We make better time for the next fifteen miles. There are no specific sights to slow us down, so we just ride until hunger and building heat get the better of us and we pull of into the shade and sit on a wall while we enjoy our lunch.
A few miles beyond that we come to the Pag Bridge, and the end of the mainland. It is an awesome spot, with the barren surface of Pag, the deep blue sea, and the Velebit Mountains across the strait on the mainland contrasting strikingly against each other.
Around Nin we enjoyed a fairly unfamiliar landscape along the Croatian coast - flatlands.
By the Pag Bridge. The peninsula behind her is Pag, the rest is mainland. There’s a small bar here by the bridge, where we stopped to rehydrate in the shade and take in the views.
We were pleased to stop in at the bar at the mainland side of the bridge and sit in the shade, hydrating and soaking in the wonderful views. We also enjoyed a chat with a young Dutch couple from Rotterdam, passing through on a rock climbing trip through the Balkans.
After we cooled down a bit we continued on the remaining few miles to Pag town, checked in to our apartment, and collapsed on the bed for the rest of the afternoon. Our host recommended the nearby beach, but we both felt we had done our time in the sun for the day and were happy enough to sit indoors in an air conditioned room until it was time to walk across the pedestrian bridge to the old town and settle in at an appealing pizzaria.
We can thank the Venetians for Pag’s unique landscape. They completely deforested the island. Once the soils blew away, the trees could never grow back.
The southwestern slopes of Pag are green, but treeless. Toward the top of the ridge the vegetation disappears, and the eastern slopes are completely barren.
A bronze of Juraj Dalmatinac, Croatia’s most renowned sculptor and architect. He may be best known as the architect of the Sibenik Cathedral, but he is honored here because he also designed the layout of Pag town.
