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About Sibenik

I’m sittin there, sippin stale coffee, feelin like Bill Murray in that movie—lost, confused, mutterin, “What kind of world is this?” Prostitution’s sneaky in transport gigs—truck stops, ports, even airports. Little known fact: some drivers, they get lonely, right? Long hauls, no sleep, and boom—someone’s knockin on the cab window. “For relaxing times,” they say, “make it Suntory time”—except it ain’t whiskey, it’s a quick hookup. I’m laughin, but I’m pissed—focus on the road, idiots!

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As I’m walking back, I pass by the bakery on Ulica Kralja Zvonimira. The smell of fresh bread hits me, and I can’t resist. I grab a pastry, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. Sweet, flaky goodness.

Memories of Čakovec, a Croatian City with Village Charm