{"id":5255,"date":"2026-03-20T06:37:55","date_gmt":"2026-03-20T05:37:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/snckvrebac.hr\/?post_type=artikl&p=5255"},"modified":"2026-08-15T06:43:13","modified_gmt":"2026-08-15T04:43:13","slug":"vrebac-stories-journey-to-lika-1","status":"publish","type":"artikl","link":"https:\/\/snckvrebac.hr\/en\/artikl\/vrebac-stories-journey-to-lika-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Vrebac Stories \u2013 Journey to Lika (1)"},"content":{"rendered":"

In several installments, I will publish my memories of staying at my grandfather\u2019s farm in Vrebac in the early 1960s. These stories were written thirteen years ago for my grandchildren, to remind them of life in Vrebac in times gone by\u2014as I experienced it, subjectively, through my own eyes\u2014and this is their first public publication.<\/em><\/p>\n

I believe that many people will recognize themselves in these stories.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n

As long as I can remember, I have loved Lika. It has always been an unconditional love, a love filled with warmth for a region that, when I was a child, seemed far away and somehow unreal to me. Whenever I thought of Lika, I felt a warmth inside me, and my heart and soul would fill with a joy and happiness I could not explain. Everything in Lika was beautiful and unique to me. I loved everything, and everything felt dear and familiar. I loved the trees, the meadows, even the thorny bushes, the wildflowers, and the distant views. I loved Lika and its scents\u2014the smell of the earth, the dew, the smell of the village.<\/p>\n

Velebit gave its distinctive mark to all of it. A great, austere mountain whose end could not be seen, rising in the near distance, inspired respect, and I felt small before it. Its dark, steep slopes, covered with gnarled trees, seemed mysterious and cautionary. Looking up toward the mountain, enormous bare rocks stood out, harsh and forbidding, made magnificent only by the sunlight shimmering across them.<\/p>\n

That was the Lika I remember!<\/p>\n

A village in the fields, houses surrounded by plum and ash trees, the smell of sheep and the ringing of cowbells, broad and spacious fields, the river, lots of children, and above all, Velebit.<\/p>\n

Only today do I realize how deeply Lika has marked me. And although I am already well advanced in years, memories of that beloved region often, quite unexpectedly, bring a tear to my eye.<\/p>\n

I love Lika. I love the memories that bind me to that dear land. But I do not know whether there are more beautiful memories or more beautiful anticipation than the moment when we knew we were going to travel to Lika.<\/p>\n

The memories would come flooding back, and the excitement would grow. We could hardly wait for the moment of departure. And there was preparation to be done. What would we take? What would we do? What if we forgot something?<\/p>\n

Every one of those ten or so days before departure was filled with excitement.<\/p>\n

We were going away!<\/p>\n

Summer. Annual vacation.<\/p>\n

We travelled by train. It was a long journey, and it took a long time. It was important to know when the train was leaving. So, a few days before departure, I would go with my father to the railway station. Everything had to be checked, and we had to decide which train we would take.<\/p>\n

And the journey lasted almost the entire night.<\/p>\n

Travelling by train was like an adventure. Father bought the tickets, but we would not leave the station until we had seen at least one train depart.<\/p>\n

Now the journey was certain.<\/p>\n

We would go through the luggage, already half-packed, once again to make sure nothing had been forgotten, while playing with the neighborhood children in the yard somehow became less important. There was no time anymore. All the games faded into the background before the anticipated event and were postponed until our return, which seemed far away and somewhat unreal.<\/p>\n

And it was important not to think about that either. It was as though thinking about the return might spoil the beautiful picture that had formed in my mind and before my eyes.<\/p>\n

With such images in my mind, I would go to bed, but sleep would not come. The thought that tomorrow would bring the day of departure closer excited me and would not let my eyes close. I tossed and turned in bed, trying to fall asleep, but thoughts of what awaited me\u2014games, visits to beloved places, all those mysteries that made village life so fascinating and that had yet to be discovered, everything that had remained unexplored since the previous summer\u2014did not help.<\/p>\n

Eventually, however, fatigue did its work, and my eyes finally closed.<\/p>\n

Morning came, our last morning before departure. It was sunny. The sun was already high in the sky, its rays calling us to get up. Only then did I become aware that today was the day we would be getting ready to leave.<\/p>\n

My heart leapt with sudden excitement, and a wave of warmth spread across my cheeks. I must never have dressed so quickly. From the kitchen came the pleasant smell of fried chicken that Mother was preparing for the journey.<\/p>\n

There it was\u2014today we were leaving.<\/p>\n

All that remained was to prepare the last few things and arrange with the neighbors what they would look after and how they would do it.<\/p>\n

I must never have been more obedient. Nothing seemed difficult; I was willing to do everything.<\/p>\n

But still, we could not leave just yet. The day was long, a long summer day, and the train did not depart until evening. The journey to Lika took about ten hours, and we had to arrive in Gospi\u0107 in the morning. We could sleep on the train, and Grandpa Bo\u017eo would be waiting for us at the station in the morning with his horse and cart.<\/p>\n

Finally, we gathered our things, locked the door behind us and set off for the railway station. Suitcases in our hands and the road beneath our feet, we slowly made our way to the station two kilometers away.<\/p>\n

But nothing was difficult.<\/p>\n

We were not walking\u2014we were flying.<\/p>\n

Step by step, and there we were.<\/p>\n

All that remained was for the train to arrive. Even if it was late, which was not unusual. I strained my eyes into the darkness, looking in the direction from which the train should appear. I paced impatiently along the platform, but it did no good.<\/p>\n

Then, suddenly, in the distance along the tracks, a light appeared.<\/p>\n

There it was\u2014the train!<\/p>\n

A sound, and then two more lights appeared a little later.<\/p>\n

The train was entering the station.<\/p>\n

A steam locomotive.<\/p>\n

That first light high on the locomotive looked frightening. Like the eye of a Cyclops. Smoke enveloped the locomotive, roaring from its great smokestack, accompanied by the shrill sounds of steam escaping from somewhere as though from the mouth of a terrifying dragon.<\/p>\n

With a squeal, the train stopped.<\/p>\n

Doors and windows began opening along the row of illuminated carriages. Few people got off, but there were plenty of curious faces at the windows.<\/p>\n

The conductor shouted: \u201cJastrebarsko!\u201d<\/p>\n

We boarded the train. We had not even found an empty compartment when the train began to move.<\/p>\n

First came the sharp whistle of the locomotive, the closing of the carriage doors, and then the slow, heavy movement accompanied by sharp sounds:<\/p>\n

whoo\u2026 whoo\u2026 whoo\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

Then faster and faster, until there was only the steady rhythm of the wheels crossing the rails:<\/p>\n

dum\u2026 dum\u2026 dum\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

We entered a compartment and arranged our suitcases and other luggage on the racks above the seats.<\/p>\n

I immediately moved toward the window and pressed my nose against the glass, watching the last lights of the station disappear into the darkness.<\/p>\n

Soon we left even those last lights behind and sank into the darkness that the powerful locomotive cut through as it carried us toward Lika, releasing fiery sparks that flickered in the starry night like fireflies.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, I felt terribly hungry.<\/p>\n

It was time for a second dinner.<\/p>\n

Mother took out the food she had packed. There was fried chicken, sandwiches, cakes and juice.<\/p>\n

A real feast.<\/p>\n

Is there anything more wonderful than having dinner on a speeding train taking us to Lika?<\/p>\n

The stations passed.<\/p>\n

One, two, three\u2026<\/p>\n

At some places we would stop and wait for another train to pass us. Those waits were agonizing.<\/p>\n

Is it coming?<\/p>\n

When will that train arrive?<\/p>\n

Eventually, sooner or later, we would continue on our way.<\/p>\n

All the way to O\u0161tarije.<\/p>\n

There we would usually change trains or wait for a replacement locomotive. It could feel like an eternity before we departed again.<\/p>\n

By the time we finally left, I would already be exhausted. The excitement and fatigue would overcome me, and I would fall asleep in my mother\u2019s lap, lulled by the steady clatter of the train:<\/p>\n

dum\u2026 dum\u2026 dum\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

Early in the morning, they would wake me when we reached Vrhovine. I never wanted to miss the view of the Gacka Valley from the train.<\/p>\n

A magnificent, almost unreal sight.<\/p>\n

Strands of mist lay across the valley, with cultivated fields through which the Gacka River wound slowly along.<\/p>\n

That view was worth getting up early for.<\/p>\n

I felt filled with the beauty of the scene, looking and absorbing everything I could, knowing that the train would soon disappear behind the hills and that another chance would not come until the following year.<\/p>\n

Even today, when I travel through the Gacka Valley, I look at it from the mountain roads and remember the nostalgia I felt when that view of paradise slipped away from me.<\/p>\n

Gospi\u0107 was getting closer, where we would get off.<\/p>\n

Although it was early\u2014we usually arrived at around six in the morning\u2014the sun was already well above the horizon.<\/p>\n

I counted the final moments on the train, overcome by a new wave of excitement.<\/p>\n

Grandpa was waiting for us with the horse and cart at the railway station.<\/p>\n

One last bend, and we entered the station.<\/p>\n

I remember the old grain silo, a sure sign that we had arrived.<\/p>\n

The locomotive whistled, steam enveloped the train, and the sound of braking could be heard. The train began to slow. The brakes squealed and\u2014<\/p>\n

we stopped.<\/p>\n

I looked through the window.<\/p>\n

Grandpa, \u017duja and the cart were waiting for us.<\/p>\n

We got off and approached Grandpa to greet him.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook how much you\u2019ve grown, boy,\u201d Grandpa marveled, as he did every year.<\/p>\n

He was a strong man, respected in the village, but he did not spend much time with children, except when he found an opportunity for a joke. So there was a little bit of everything in that expression of astonishment.<\/p>\n

We climbed into the cart and set off for Vrebac.<\/p>\n

It was pleasant riding, sitting on the colorful woven blanket and covered with a woolen blanket, because this was Lika, after all, and the mornings were cool.<\/p>\n

I absorbed the landscape, so different and unusual from the one where I lived and which I knew so well\u2014harsh, rugged and rocky.<\/p>\n

And yet, I always found it more beautiful here. I felt as though I had become one with it.<\/p>\n

Only Velebit, which here seemed almost close enough to touch, gave the landscape its solemnity and, in a childish way, inspired a certain fear because of its inaccessibility and grandeur.<\/p>\n

\u017duja trotted slowly.<\/p>\n

There was no hurry.<\/p>\n

The conversation always followed the same ordinary path: how people were living, what was new, who among the acquaintances had died, who had had a child, what kind of year it was, whether the crops had yielded well\u2026<\/p>\n

The road slowly disappeared behind us.<\/p>\n

We passed through the villages of Bilaj and Barlete and crossed the Jadova River, which at this point still had some water in it.<\/p>\n

The river immediately caught my attention.<\/p>\n

Clear and bright, with huge rocks protruding from the water, steep and rocky banks, and reeds still tangled with the morning mist, it was inviting and full of mystery.<\/p>\n

The old wooden bridge was not high above the water, and down below one could see schools of fish swimming peacefully, seemingly unaware that they were disturbing the morning silence.<\/p>\n

At this very spot, one winter, \u017duja\u2014frightened by something\u2014pulled the cart past the bridge, and Grandpa accidentally ended up taking a bath.<\/p>\n

Everything turned out well, but \u017duja’s skittish nature certainly surprised Grandpa that day.<\/p>\n

We continued on and reached the first Vrebac houses.<\/p>\n

We crossed the Tunjevac stream, whose bed was dry at this time of year.<\/p>\n

We continued along the road, and there we were at the Naran\u010di\u0107 stream, also dry and without water.<\/p>\n

In the distance, we could see the Vrebac school, then full of pupils.<\/p>\n

We passed the main village cistern, turned below Gradina, and there we were at the final ascent.<\/p>\n

\u017duja came to life.<\/p>\n

She gently picked up speed as she descended from the little hill and turned left onto the first side road.<\/p>\n

She trotted cheerfully and easily, and there we were in the yard.<\/p>\n

We had arrived.<\/p>\n

Grandma Koka came out of the house, and we greeted each other.<\/p>\n

She looked at me in amazement too: \u201cLook at him, how much he\u2019s grown!\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked around.<\/p>\n

Everything was still there.<\/p>\n

The house and barn covered with thatch, the hayrack, the underground storage pit, the threshing floor in the yard.<\/p>\n

Chickens in the yard, cows in the field, and \u010ceno, tied up, welcoming us with his barking.<\/p>\n

From the neighboring houses came the voices of Du\u0161ko and Milan, my summer companions.<\/p>\n

The adventure could begin.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u017deljko Naran\u010di\u0107<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"inline_featured_image":false},"atribut":[30],"class_list":["post-5255","artikl","type-artikl","status-publish","hentry","atribut-poems"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nVrebac Stories \u2013 Journey to Lika (1) - Srpska narodna \u010ditaonica i knji\u017enica u Vrepcu<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/snckvrebac.hr\/en\/artikl\/vrebac-stories-journey-to-lika-1\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Vrebac Stories \u2013 Journey to Lika (1) - Srpska narodna \u010ditaonica i knji\u017enica u Vrepcu\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"\u017deljko Naran\u010di\u0107\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/snckvrebac.hr\/en\/artikl\/vrebac-stories-journey-to-lika-1\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Srpska narodna \u010ditaonica i knji\u017enica u Vrepcu\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2026-08-15T04:43:13+00:00\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"13 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/snckvrebac.hr\\\/en\\\/artikl\\\/vrebac-stories-journey-to-lika-1\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/snckvrebac.hr\\\/en\\\/artikl\\\/vrebac-stories-journey-to-lika-1\\\/\",\"name\":\"Vrebac Stories \u2013 Journey to Lika (1) - 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