Rijeka

After my skipper training course, Alexandra and I are taking turns in Rijeka. This week it’s Alexandra’s turn to do her ASA 101,103,104 courses, while I can chill and take care of the dog.

I really need to chill. Even though I took it easy and became a bit of a joke in the group because I insisted on my nap: I am really exhausted now. I think I can feel the 25 years of work in my bones. Even though any manual worker can only laugh at me, an office rubber: Sitting 8-9 hours a day and staring at a screen is inhuman in the true sense of the word: We were made to roam savannas and keep our brains in energy-saving mode as much as possible.

Anyway, there’s not much to say about Rijeka. Rijeka is an industrial city, with a port, shipyards, refineries. Rijeka is also home to the first Croatian punk rock band, which is still a source of pride today.

And so Rijeka has remained true to itself and is somehow still gloriously fucked up.

What I must say: I experience the Croatians here differently than in the tourist spots. They all speak excellent English and are always up for a chat. Charly is the superstar and the key to people’s hearts, especially the ladies. I get to hear several life stories. Really sweet.

Nevertheless, I find Rijeka not livable, it’s just too dirty, too shabby, too noisy, and too car-oriented. I guess I’ve become too old and square for punk rock, too old to die young.

*This blog post has been automatically translated by a Large Language Model.