Speeding down a motorway beside an industrial estate, heavens pouring and no umbrella in the bag was not the Euro-summer I had in pictured.
Usually, I like the rain. Even when I’m travelling, a grey day never dampens my spirits. But the fact that I had only 24 hours to see Zagreb made the bad weather sting.
One step out of the Uber and my Birkenstocks were soggier than tea-dunked Digestives.
And after spending more than I should on a rip-off Šestine...


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