Morning comes again
In Zagreb, early morning has come again, men sporting man purses hurry to the tram, women bearing heavy purses, buses, taxis, cars and pedestrians scuttling. A city that wakes up on a Monday morning – the rhythm of the world (except Spain).
Here an octogenarian with a full head of hair tells me that when they took out his thyroid, he applied a garlic paste to his head every night for two months. Another octogenarian shows me her muscles from carrying grocery bags to and fro.
We arrive late at night and find Tin covered in Plum Brandy to stop the mosquito bites from itching.
There is a tea for everything from constipation to arthritis. And now honey is the panacea.
I sit outside on the terrace enjoying the fresh morning air and listening to the sounds of groggy Monday life and see in the sunshine one blonde hair on my arm.
Morning has broken.