Another Day, Another Scooter

Our grandfather was born in Gornje Tucepi and left when he was in his mid teens in the early 1900's to join his brother in New Zealand, digging for kauri gum in the Far North. Men (and some women as 'mail brides') were leaving in droves to try to make money to support their families. The diaspora from that time is wide spread - Australia, Argentina, USA and New Zealand - the production of wine had become profitable on the Dalmatian cost as  bacteria phylloxera ravaged the grapevines in France, opening up a lucrative market for wine sales for Dalmatia. Twenty or so years later, the grapevines between Korcula and Makarska were destroyed by the same bacteria, leaving many families with no income and outstanding debt. The poverty was unbelievable. I'm not sure whether my grandfather's family was involved in the wine growing industry, but the family origin story is that he was avoiding being drafted into the Austrian Hungarian Army, given that at the time the country was governed by Austria. Imagine - so young, boarding a ship for New Zealand, leaving his family and country, to which he never returned. I kind of feel I'm doing the returning for him. My daughter has the steel chests that he packed his things in to take the journey. I always like to take the time to go up to Gornje Tucepi when I'm in Makarska. 

There is a walking track to get you up to Tucepi, but it was too hot for mountaineering so  I rented a nice new shiny Peugeot scooter and took the narrow and very steep road up there. 

The walking track takes you through villages like Simici and Covici  - these are familiar surnames in NZ, slightly anglicised to Simich and Covich. - chances are that if you know a Covich or Simich they came from these villages.

I just love to wander around up there and try to take artsy photos, but what I cannot capture is the pure pine smell, the air laden with the sweet smell of ripe figs, the cicadas doing their insistent thing - its a multi sensory overload. 

There is a lot of new building going on with people renovating the old houses. I've been banging on about Biokovo but what I haven't mentioned is that in 1962 in January, there were two huge earthquakes above the mountain villages between Makar and Podgora which killed six people and culminated in many of the villages being deserted, many houses and buildings destroyed - the people 'upstairs' tumbled down the mountain, and the newer towns were created by the sea. The memory of the potres must have faded for those buying land up there and renovating. I still see alotalot of rock. Looking at some of the old places with the mountain as a backdrop, it's hard to see where the mountain ends and the house starts, it's all the same grey.

 This is the remainder of our grandfather's house - someone has cleared the vines away on this side - it looks as though it was to clear a parking space - more on parking later, it's a Big Subject.

This blog was going to be something different when I sat down, but this is where we have arrived.  More on Gornje (upper or just 'upstairs') Tucepi later. It's my favourite place - would be amazing to have an old place up there!