So, I just got back from Split, and I can't stop thinking about all the wild little moments that filled my days. You know how they say travel opens your eyes? Well, this trip opened mine wide enough to catch a fly. Seriously, I wasn't expecting much from Split. I mean, I've heard of the place, sure, but I didn't think it would turn out to be such a gem.
This spot? Total surprise.
On the first day, I somehow found myself wandering in and out of the cobblestone streets, which, let me tell you, are way more impressive than they sound. I totally took the wrong turn and ended up in this tiny square—I don't even remember its name. Just a handful of locals seated at a few weathered tables outside a café that looked like it had been there for centuries.
I sat down, half-expecting a tourist trap. But the moment I tasted their espresso, it seriously flipped my world upside down. It was thick and rich, with a flavor that made me feel like I was drinking a piece of Italy. The locals around me were animated, but I was too busy diving into the cup to catch much of their chatter.
Out of nowhere, an old man at the next table leaned over and asked if I was a tourist. I nodded, thinking, “Oh no, here come the clichés.” Instead, he started sharing stories about Split's past—how it used to be a trading hub, a melting pot of cultures. His eyes sparkled as he spoke, and I felt like I was part of something bigger. It was one of those serendipitous moments that just happen when you least expect them.
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
And then there was the afternoon that turned my whole mood around. I decided to hit the waterfront, a place that seemed overrated from all the Instagram posts I'd seen. But, man, stepping onto Riva was magical. The sun was setting, and the colors in the sky looked so surreal I half-expected someone to break out a paintbrush.
I plonked down on a bench, and as I watched the boats bobbing quietly in the water, a distant band started playing. I had no idea where they were, but the sound filled the space like warm honey. I felt this wave of joy rushing over me. It dawned on me that this was the kind of place where I could simply exist, without rushing to tick off all the “best things to do in Split."
I ended up sitting there longer than I intended, a sandwich in hand from some little deli I stumbled upon. It wasn't the best I've ever had, but it somehow tasted like freedom. I can't put my finger on why, but that moment became a little treasure I tucked away in my mind.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
You would think I would have learned from my earlier navigational mishaps, but nope! I almost missed Diocletian's Palace. I was meandering around, utterly confused and thinking it was just another tourist trap. One wrong turn led to another, and then I found myself in a shaded alley that seemed to lead nowhere.
Honestly, I wasn't expecting to find much behind those crumbling walls. I thought, “This place better not be a letdown.” But when I finally stumbled upon the palace, I was just blown away. It's like stepping into another era entirely; the stone looked ancient and alive at the same time. There were vibrant markets tucked into the corners, and I found myself lost among artisans and local vendors.
As I wandered deeper, I came across a little shop selling traditional crafts. The owner, a sweet lady with kind eyes, started chatting with me and told me about her family's history with the craft. I could see the passion in her voice as she spoke about each piece, and I ended up buying a tiny hand-painted plate. It wasn't a planned stop, but every bit of it felt meant to happen.
Getting lost has its perks
I will say this: getting lost has its perks. I mean, how else would I have discovered that charming little bakery tucked into the shadows? I was just roaming around looking for an exit to get back to my hotel when the smell of fresh pastries wafted toward me. I followed my nose and found the cutest bakery ever. The woman behind the counter was so sweet; she offered me a piece of this flaky pastry that had a filling I couldn't even identify.
It was unreal. I think my brain short-circuited with happiness. I later learned it was a traditional pastry called a "kremšnita," and it was like tasting clouds—if clouds were rich and creamy with a hint of vanilla. I sat outside with my pastry, observing the world go by, and for a moment everything just felt right.
Reflecting on the non-plan
Looking back, everything just worked out, didn't it? Each little oversight, whether it was getting lost or misreading a sign, led me to unexpected treasures. I've found that sometimes the best things—like a perfect coffee or an impromptu conversation—don't come packaged in a neat little box with a label on it. They come from wandering down branches of streets you didn't mean to take, finding live music when you were just searching for a place to sit, or cooling off in a hidden café that seemed ordinary at first.
While I came searching for some of the best things to do in Split, what really stood out were the moments that caught me off-guard. I guess that's the real beauty of travel. You plan, and yet, it's those little surprises that shape the experience. They linger longer in your heart, and I'm still sipping on them, one memory at a time, like that last drops of coffee in my cup.
