Living and Working in Croatia as a Tour Guide

Sharing Paradise

Article and photos by Alexandra Cram

“Just here, among the blueness of the sky and sea, by the God’s love and affection of the Biokovo’s solid stone, all your beauty has been made.” (Author Unknown).

A Handbook For Prospective Tour Guides Aboard Sailing Ships in Croatia

List of items and skills needed for survival:

• Earplugs, vitamins, first aid kit, tweezers, antiseptic, Visine.
• Australian abbreviation phrase book.
• Ability to survive an Australian drinking game.
• Ability to talk like a pirate.
• Pantomime skills when you lose your voice from speaking like a pirate.
• Ability to sneak out of nightclubs without your guests noticing.
• Ability to share information even if you know no one is listening and repeat it many times without losing your mind.
• Ability to conduct tours and organize groups despite losing your mind.
• Ability to find hospitals, dentists, and police stations in a foreign country at unusual hours.
• Negotiating skills (with grumpy captains, police, nightclub security, wait staff, passengers, doctors...)
• Ability to withstand and find humor in absurd behavior.
• An endless sense of humor regarding the human condition.
• Camera to document it all.
• Ability to sleep and live in small hot places with thin walls separating you from others and their activities.
• A strong liver.

Falling in Love with Croatia

I spent every summer in Croatia for six years. Eventually, I moved in with my boyfriend to his ancestral village on the coast in 2007. I put a hold on my busy career in film and television production. I rented out my apartment that looked out onto the traffic jams and sirens of Main Street, Vancouver, Canada. As one who has an elaborate travel history and a restless spirit, I never expected any place to captivate me enough to want to put down roots and ultimately consider changing my career. I always wished I would be dividing my time between Canada and Croatia — or elsewhere. In retrospect, the experience of becoming an expatriate and not a summer visitor set my life on a new path. The expatriate experience allows time for the intricate layers of a place and culture to reveal themselves and become part of one's state of mind. I had to leave for three months after spending my first winter in Croatia to realize this expatriate transformation. I experienced sensations and emotions that took me by surprise upon seeing the harbor of Split at dawn when returning on a ferry from Italy. Then, I realized Croatia, its mountains, sea, and all its complicated past had cast a spell on me. I loved it for all its toughness and the challenges I had been offered as much as I loved its stunning natural beauty.

Working as a Tour Guide in Croatia?

It was not part of my plan to enter the job market as a tour guide. I spent an afternoon in the Berlin airport with a tour guide on his way to Croatia. So impressed was he with my tales of living in Croatia and my passion for the country that I received a call two weeks later, offering me a position as an onboard guide for their island cruises.

I would spend the summer sailing the Dalmatian Coast and its archipelago of 1,100 islands and sparkling coastline aboard vintage wooden boats. I would share my love of everything Croatian with others. I would meet people from around the world. How could such an experience not be great?

Pleasures, Challenges and Lessons Learned Working as Tour Guide

Imagine jumping from the boat roof into the most aquamarine and transparent waters. Our captain would drop anchor in secluded bays only reachable by boat, with no civilization in sight. There was an occasional blissful morning when I had the entire boat's roof to myself (with everyone still sleeping off their hangovers). I would lie watching the massive limestone cliffs of the island of Brac slide by, doze off, and wake up to the terraced olive groves and small Mediterranean fishing villages of the island of Hvar. At night, the opulent spectacle of Hvar'sHvar's harbor never ceased to amaze me as we jockeyed for space amongst unbelievably decadent luxury yachts, their celebrity cargo, and many other boats full of Australians. In Korcula, as swallows dove and lunged around the church bell tower, we would select a cocktail and watch the sun go down from a bastion tower sitting atop medieval walls. Over dinners of fresh grilled fish, calamari, and local wine, I made great lifetime friends with my guests and the Croatians I worked with. I found unforgettable camaraderie with fellow guides. I have walked the medieval walls of the old city of Dubrovnik 60 times during the past two years. I have learned how similar keeping a group of 35 people together is to herd sheep at times. It takes a particular skill to manage large groups and a certain degree of finesse to prevent your groups from feeling like sheep.

I have also visited the hospitals of various ports many times. A Broken rib, food poisoning, ear infection, sinus infection, and a toe crushed by a 100lb suitcase are among my personal afflictions. Extraction of sea urchin spines from various body parts (see tweezers in the above packing list). Earplug stuck in ear, heart palpitations from consumption of 14 Red Bull/vodka cocktails, chipped tooth, lacerated foot, heat rash, swollen feet, bee stings, perpetual nosebleed, emergency birth control, and heatstroke are some of the afflictions belonging to my dear guests.

The Tour Guests

Cycling the fringe of trails that line the two beautiful lakes of Mljet Island'sIsland's national park, my guests were stunned into a respectful silence by the beauty and the buzz of cicadas in the green pine trees. We swam in the waters at night.

Guests have astounded me, drinking beer from their shoes and passing up my offer to see the historical sights of Dubrovnik's Old Town. Others astonished me with their curiosity and willingness to follow me up a steep hillside in the early hours after a night of partying. At the end of the tour, goodbyes were always a mix of tears, some relief that we all survived, and trepidation about what the next week would bring. I have been carried through towns on my guests' shoulders and given gifts of handmade cards full of praise for making them love Croatia as much as I do. I have mastered the basics of the Croatian language, Australian hyphenation of words, making history fascinating, and the dangers of drinking games.

As a tour guide, I expected to meet people from many countries. Still, to my surprise, I am now Facebook friends with a baffling percentage of Australians living in London and a small handful of other nationalities. The company that employs me markets its tours predominantly to young Australians spending their "Gap year" in Europe. These tours are extremely popular with this demographic because droves of young Aussies flock to Croatia every summer just as they do in London.

On Saturday mornings, weary guides have a few precious hours in Split to escape our boats and responsibilities. We would sit at an out-of-the-way cafe, swapping the tales of the week. We shared disasters and hilarious events while relishing our moments of peace and examining our upcoming passengers. For some, it was either a horror or a gift if they had an unbalanced ratio of girls to boys or which boat they were to be placed upon. I began to see each boat and each week as a social experiment.

Tour Guiding as a Profession

Tour guiding requires a lot of energy, people skills, and patience, but it is also fulfilling when you are appreciated. It is a way to see a country's highlights and make some money while doing so. My employment as a guide was only a small percentage of what Croatia offers regarding tourism and work options. An Internet search for Croatia will bring up endless travel and tour sites. Whether looking for a deluxe luxury yacht with seven crew members to sail the islands, an opportunity to pick olives with the locals, donkey tours, or diving, there is a tour for everyone and possible job opportunities with these companies. Many companies appreciate people who can speak English, German, and Italian. Croatians begin hiring in earnest in late February or March after they wake up from the winter doldrums. International companies hire much further in advance, even a year prior, and many have training programs before season opening. I am fostering my love for walking the mountains and ancestral network of trails of Croatia for what I believe to be a budding niche in the tourism industry.

Living in Split and the Expatriate Experience

It is now January, and I am living in Split, in the center of what was once the retirement palace of the Roman Emperor, Diocletian. I wake in the mornings to the sounds of church bells. My stonewall apartment is so cold I can see my breath. Cell phones ring out personalized tunes in the narrow alley below my window as the shops begin opening up for the day. A train whistle, Abba, a cuckoo clock. I listened to the morning banter, finally able to understand conversational Croatian after two years. A language that even Croatians say is a katastrof! (catastrophe).

This is my second winter in Croatia. Winters here are not easy or for the faint of heart. Old stone buildings hold no heat, and Croatians have now worn out their hospitality that must go full tilt for the four months of the tourist season from May to October. Since I live alone, there are just a few social calls and favors I can only draw from carefully and respectfully. I am not a local, yet I am not a tourist — that is, at times, the essence of an expat experience. As many locals do, I am also an expat trying to build a new life. In winter, when the going gets tough for locals, everyone is for themselves, and the same goes for expats. I rented my first apartment in Split only to discover that my landlord had disappeared, all 6'' of him, and the three mobile phone numbers, none of which he was answering. Leaving me without Internet, he had also removed the television, sofa, and the remote for the heater was nowhere to be found.

There is no work in the winter for many, and tourist towns and cities are empty of tourists, seemingly overnight, in October. The village population drops from a booming 3,000 in peak season to ghost towns of 300 in winter. I walk through Split late in January, with my only company being the odd cat sneaking around the edges of the piaca (square). Many regard me with curiosity, being a female, living here alone. The little lady I buy vegetables from always asks, "Are you still living alone?" with a worried look on her face, sneaking a lemon or a few carrots into my bag.

The expatriate experience requires one to become in tune with the rhythms of a place. I spent my first winter in a small seaside village. Locals in Split shake their heads in wonder when I tell them where I was living. And then the inevitable question followed. "But what did you do there?"

Exploring Croatia as an Outsider

I began walking in the mountains to escape the confines of the village I had moved to, and my boyfriend's mother did not understand or entirely accept me as the new addition to the household. I was embracing everything in my new life, picking olives and helping to clear terraces of olive trees that had been left to grow wild for years. I fell into the Mediterranean way of life quickly.

Whether eating raw vegetables, walking barefoot, or doing laundry when the wind was blowing the wrong way, I began to feel as if everything I did was a mistake. I started keeping a list of local household "superstitions" that got me into hot water. Sweeping the floor following a meal the day before traveling is terrible luck. Driving with the windows of the car open was sure to bring imminent death, which was deserved. My walks up into the hills got a particular shake of the head and fearful eye-rolling at the heavens.

Brela, Baska Voda, Promanja, Krvavica, Makarska, Tucepi, Podgora, Drasnice, Igrane, Zivogosce, Mala Duba, Blato, Drvenik, Zaostrog, Podac, Gradac. These are the charming coastal villages of the Makarska Riviera in Croatia. They dot the 60-kilometer narrow strip of stunning Mediterranean coastline like charms on a bracelet, linked by a spectacular cliff-hugging highway book-ended by the UNESCO heritage sites and cities of Split and Dubrovnik.

Originally, people of this region settled and built their villages high in the hills dwarfed by Biokovo and above the Adriatic for protection from the barrage of invading enemies. Only once the period of marauding Turks and pirates faded, and tourism developed did people migrate down to the coast. Whole villages were left behind as people built new lives by the seaside. Ancestral stone houses, churches, and endless ancient rock walls sit above each modern-day town along this coastline, connected by a network of trails running from Brela to Zaostrog and upwards to the peaks of Biokovo. The dramatic peaks of the Denali mountain range and Biokovo National Park rise directly from the coast, seemingly straight up from the sea to almost 1,800 meters, creating a charming atmosphere. Especially impressive above the bustling town of Makarska, these great massif cliffs tower over you and leave your eyes no choice but to be drawn upwards to watch the clouds rushing over their peaks. I overheard a tourist remark, "I don't know what it is, but I can't help but keep looking up at those mountains!"

I felt vindicated and encouraged that I was not alone in my fascination with these looming mountains that have occupied my conscience and compelled me to pursue a new career path and a life living in Croatia. Soon after my experience, I discovered a strong history and tradition of mountain climbing and hiking in Croatia. I didn't need to wander around alone. The Mountaineering Association, founded in 1874, has active clubs throughout Croatia. Very organized, there are regular outings for members, schools, and well-maintained mountain huts in the many national parks. My life changed after I self-consciously walked into a room primarily full of men in the Spring of 2008, with all eyes on me as I signed up for my membership. I left the village soon after that, realizing I would have to eventually choose between my freedom or resign myself to always being misunderstood. In the town, I would always be "Mali Vrag," an endearing Croatian nickname given to me by my mother-in-law. It means "Little Devil" and sums up how I was perceived.

I walk two minutes to an ATM set into the ancient stone walls of Split and cross the Peristyle where Diocletian would greet his followers, to my favorite bustling cafe that sits directly across from one of the oldest cathedrals in Europe, built initially as his mausoleum. Ironically, Diocletian crusaded against Christianity. I am often lost in thought, wondering what the Roman Emperor would think to witness this irony and modernity amongst the walls of his palace. The contrast between new and old makes the city what it is — a living ruin. The narrow alleys and nooks are full of shoe shops, bakeries, bookstores, and squares with elegant cafes that fill spaces where Diocletian's many servants and workers once inhabited. His waterfront access is now a modern Corso, or Riva, full of bustling cafes, bars, and trendy benches by the seaside. There is wireless access in the cafe, and I am talking on Skype to my friend in Canada. What would Diocletian think of that?

Checking my email daily, I am waiting to hear that I will be employed offering trekking and walking tours throughout Dalmatia for a well-reputed company. I will again be rambling through the abandoned hamlets, pine forests, and olive groves I adore. I will take my guests to local konobas to sample domestic wines, cheeses, and smoked ham. I will be sharing with others what I love most about this country. Taking my experiences and trials of the past three years, I am putting them all to use to create a new career in the country I have decided to call home.

Alexanda Cram has written a book of photography, titled "To stand between the sea and sky," about her experience in Croatia.