Words & photos by Gmonsta
It was a tip off from a friend of a friend, which gave me the breakthrough I was looking for. I have been searching unsuccessfully for some time now for the perfect road-trip and, after quite a few previous trips to Croatia for work; I thought I might be onto something. Normally I’d settle for a car or catch the bus, but a random meeting at a mates wedding, hooked me up with a bike shop in Zadar where they had real bikes available for hire and not just 50cc & 125cc scooters.
I had already booked my flights into Split, so I had to make my way up by bus which was around three hours and like all good journeys there must be a bus or train involved somewhere. The bike shop picked me up from the station and took me back to the shop where all the paperwork and bike was waiting for me.
I had no real idea what I signed for, as it was all in Croatian but, it looked like a basic contract with some random costs involved with binning the bike and what I needed to do in event of an accident. Apparently there were some clauses in there about wheelies and stoppies and, no taking the bike out of the country… ah well – sign it, suck it up and see. Signatures acquired and as I had nothing of any value to leave behind I opted to leave my passport which I thought at the time probably not the wisest decision.
The bike, a 2006 Yamaha R6 was a beauty. A little rough around the edges from a previous crash, broken screen, a panel missing and scuffed crash bungs it was looking well used but overall in pretty good nick. I was really excited to be climbing aboard for my first in-line of new experiences.
Rolling out of the shop I was a little hesitant and really just wanted to hit the road and get away without any incidents. A quick check of the bike and then underway- not dropping the bike on the way out of the shop with all the staff watching was my first priority, but after a few tentative miles through town the roads started to open up and so did the throttle.
After coming from the Tuono my first impression was, oh my lord my wrists hurt already – how the hell am I going to manage two days on this thing! The bike felt very balanced though and I was actually expecting it to feel more gutless than what it actually was. It didn’t have the grunt off the throttle but you could wind it on easily enough and with more than usual pre-planning work the bike nicely on overtakes.
I reached the coast road, and after about 30 minutes I decided to stop for a break and to take a couple of quick snaps. It was then I noticed something important was missing from my pictures - Where the heck is the number plate! Either the shop had removed it or it had fallen off en-route...
Hmmm, after some thought it ended with ah well maybe some bikes don’t run with plates here - I mean in a country where most bikers don’t wear helmets then surely a no-plate penalty wouldn’t be too much of a problem. I decided to risk it and carry on.
The road I was heading to, I had driven it in the hire car earlier in the year on a pre-season work trip. Back then I was expecting to find a busy, patchy coast road slowly meandering from Rijeka down to Zadar. Instead I found one of the most perfectly freshly laid asphalt surfaces with not so much as a vehicle every half a kilometre. All this set along a winding rocky coastline running in and out of sparkling blue bays. At that point I made a commitment to myself to get back down and ride that road on two wheels.
Other than my own bike I don’t think I would have wanted a different bike to ride these roads. Initially it felt awkward and difficult to ride. On my Tuono heading into a corner it is so easy to pull on the bars and lay the bike over then flip it back up and over the other side - all without so much as moving off the seat.
The R6 was a different beast altogether. It required rider input and movement to make it go around corners quickly. It wasn’t a problem though and was easy enough to pick up some form of technique. It was certainly easier to move around on the bike than the Tuono. The low bars made this easy to rest your weight forward and it doesn’t then move around so much when shifting your body from side to side.
I was soon hacking my way through curve after perfect curve chasing the perfect lines. The adrenalin was soon flowing and I settled in to enjoy the rush. It was sensory overload with blue skies beating down on black roads running along turquoise waters in and out of rocky coastline. The R6 was revving long, then back off the throttle to hear the whiz of the engine overrunning like a centrifugal spinning wheel - the flagging sound of the exhaust note echoing off the sharp rocky roadside mountains.
With no maps to run from, the only plan was to take it all as it comes with an idea to head north along the coast and then cut back into the mountain escarpment inland and back towards Zadar for the evening, if time allowed maybe even through to Split.
After a hundred kilometres or so of coastal road I head inland up into the mountainside roads. The roads got a little more shabby although still fun and worthy of some exploration there was quite a bit of rutting and loose metal running on the corners. Obviously the road repair fund hadn’t quite stretched into the hills but the scenery and view from the top was amazing.
Once over the mountainside the road started descending down into more rural scenery and flat plains. The roads cleaned up and straightened into fast sweeping bends. Not heavily populated, the remaining houses and countryside had all the icons of rural life with fruit market stalls lining the roadside and small vegetable farms. Life looked hard for the inlanders and it didn’t have that laid back feeling of the coastal dwellers hours earlier.
The rural roads led back into Zadar and I continued south, along the coast road I had bussed in from Split on earlier in the day. Some of the road was lovely but combined with heavy traffic it was laborious with the slow speeds accentuating the aching wrists even more. Once breaking free from traffic it was on the gas again, but only for a few minutes before getting caught behind more cars. It was now time for a break.
Back in the saddle it was back on the pain machine, the day was getting late, the roads were slow and it was ride as much as possible before calling it a day. I had decided to try and get past Split and see if I can pick up a place to stay and then kick onto Dubrovnik early the next day. Once past Split I knew the roads would open up a little just before getting into the Makarska Riviera. All the way here though was hard work with traffic dodgems and the tourist traffic everywhere. The only thing that made up for it was the coastal scenery.
The sun was hanging low on the coast and the redness had lit up the coastal mountainside. Once through Omis the roads opened up and it got exciting once again. I have driven this road quite a few times in the car before and the scenery can only be described as spectacular. This is how you imagine the Mediterranean to be pre 1960 and the onset of the concrete apartment blocks that now lined the coastal areas of Greece and Spain.
The roads out along this area are awesome but beware the speed traps in the populated areas where the lower speed limits apply. I had encountered two sets earlier along the coast roads to the north, but skipped through easy enough as they were both in smaller towns where legal speeds are best with cage drivers popping out of driveways and side roads.
As it happens I ran out of luck. Whilst coming through Markaska it was too late before I saw him coming out of a side road and slip in behind me. My heart rate picked up and I am thinking ok let’s keep to the speed limit now and not get pulled. Three miles down the road they come up beside me and out comes the little yellow sign to stop. Oh Shit!!!!!
I played it the only way I knew how. “Sorry officer I didn’t know the number plates was missing. It’s a hire bike I picked up this morning. It must have fallen off???” In the end it was a £30 fine and an on your way with a warning of getting pulled again if I continued with no plate. I decided to call it a day and found a hotel nearby that allowed me to park the bike next to reception. I was a little concerned about not having a chain with me so it was handy.
Actually I wouldn’t normally mention hotels or accommodation but this was one of those ones where bus loads of package holiday tourists stay. Normally I would avoid these and opt for a self contained apartment but with the security concerns I took a chance. Surprisingly it was very good value and the service was excellent. £50 got me a double room for the night which included buffet dinner with drinks, a big breakfast and even a packed lunch for the next day.
The next morning I was in two minds whether to head south to Dubrovnik or just aim for Zadar. I didn’t relish the idea of sitting in busy traffic to Split so I thought; stuff it I’ll go for Dubrovnik. My only real concern was getting the bike back before the end of the day and then having to get on a bus back to Split for another work meeting. Ah well, I can give it a go and always turn back if needed.
The roads south of Makarska opened up to more of the same twisting coastal roads but a little busier with it being the main tourist route. There are some fantastic double lane hill sections with open visibility, allowing the bike to be wound right out. I wish I had stopped to ask for a copy of the pictures from the tourists at the lookout on the top of the hill as they snapped me screaming the bollocks off the bike whilst laying it over heading towards them. But the three figure speeds on the clock were all too addictive to contemplate stopping at the time.
As I mentioned I had driven this road before in the car, so knew I was about to have a little problem as I headed a little further South. I put it to the back of my mind as much as possible but eventually it came into sight. The Bosnian border control protects a 10 kilometre stretch of Bosnia that sits along the coast line essentially splitting Southern Croatia with the rest. The only way into the South is along the coast road which I was going to have to by pass with my dodgy plate – and now realising no passport!
Ah well – what’s the worst they can do? Not let me in? Lock me up? I was hardly a hardened criminal… I approached the border patrol tentatively sitting in behind a truck. The border patrol people were standing outside the booths and I could see ahead people in cars holding up passports and getting waved through. The truck in front was waved to one side probably for some cargo checks and I was moving slowly towards the border guard. I looked at him making a pointing forward motion with my hand as in shall I carry on. He gave me the nod to go and then continued to walk in behind me I suspect to check my plate. Not one to hang around I shot the revs to 15k the noise drowning out any calls to stop by the guard and I moved off at a sensible pace with the front wheel skipping across the tarmac.
Once through the checkpoint and into Bosnia I cruised along the coast road tentatively trying not draw any attention to my bright red sports bike. At one point I spotted yet another speed trap up ahead. I shimmied up behind a truck and half expected these guys to pull me over after receiving a call from the border patrol five minutes earlier. When they stepped out onto the road and held out their little yellow stop sign I hid even closer behind the truck as he indicated and pulled over – phew they weren’t after me at all and I slinked on rigid in my seat.
I quickly came onto the next border control point but was a little more relaxed as at least I could say I had already entered into Croatia if I got pulled and my passport was still in the country. As luck would have it I was quickly waved through without even coming to a stop.
Dubrovnik is a spectacular city. If you have ever seen photographs of the walls running around the old city you will know what I mean. The walls built around the 12th century to protect the city jut outwards protecting the city from attacks on the sea the same way castles stood to protect kings and queens. Sitting tight amongst the mountainside, the views from the top looking down are truly amazing. I have spent some time in Dubrovnik with work but I would welcome any excuse to visit even just to marvel at the walls and surrounding landscapes again.
Once the obligatory photos had been done it was a quick break before moving north back towards my border friends. I was thinking there is no way my luck would hang out again and they will be sure to stop me – especially if it’s the same guys and they spot me approaching. As luck would have it I rode straight through both just getting waved on. I had no idea if it was the same guys but I certainly let out a loud laugh of relief and knowing I got away clear once again.
It was more of the same on the return leg, and I had the feeling again that it’s always quicker returning on a long journey. Since I was a kid it has always been like this which I am normally happy with, but on this day I would have been nice to stretch it out that bit longer... How could I not with perfect weather, little traffic, great views and awesome roads. I had to stop to take in more of the day and chose a spot overlooking Dubrovacko-Neretvanska Lake where I sat back and enjoyed my packed lunch.
Onwards past Makarska again the traffic began to thicken and it was decision time once again. Take the twisting road from Split through to Zadar (another three hours), or take the motorway. Opting for the latter, mainly as I had to get back to a meeting later in the evening, but also as I had experienced the motorways before there was one other experience I wanted to take in.
If you have ever ridden on the autobahns you may know what its like to really push a bike. If you were like me however you would have found it busier than expected and unwilling to push it too hard for fear of that car ahead not spotting you and moving into your lane forcing you to jump on the brakes. Personally I found it frustratingly annoying and a little risky from time to time.
The Croatian motorways are speed limited to 130kmph, but they have to be some of the newest and smoothest tarmac surfaces in the world. As they are also toll-roads the locals tend to avoid them and they are almost empty with the occasional tourist moving at pace on their way back to Germany. They are one of the only roads I have ridden on where you can look down and the surface shimmers in the distance disappearing as it roles off the horizon.
When I last covered this road the 1.4 litre hire car was pedal flat on the floor and at 160km per hour it was no match to the big German cars that were cruising past at ease. I felt I had a score to settle on this road and most of all I wanted to experience what it was like to push a bike to its top end without the interference and risk of other road users.
The motorway starts with a couple of long tunnels through the coastal mountains. Tunnels are great aren't they – they just make you want you to chop it down a couple of gears to make the engine revs scream up around 16k and bring it back up into 4th and 5th… This sets the scene for the next 150 odd km with the slightest bends on the feeling like wide sweepers.
It would be safe to say the bike is more than capable of its factory top speed although the staying power on this particular model wasn’t the best with the oil light coming on towards the final stages of my run home. Dropping the revs back to their normal operating environment light soon cut back off and I was soon back at the hire shop and glad to be peeling off the leathers and swapping them for shorts, t-shirt and jandals.
Still high on adrenalin from the last stages of the journey I climbed on my bus for the slow ride back to split reflecting back on what had to be some of the most enlivening riding I have experienced. The combination of the bike and scenery was amazing which altogether made chasing the black roads of Croatia an awesome experience. I would highly recommend it, but am unsure if I would like to do it again – only for the fear of not living up to the now higher than ever expectations.
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