Having touched down at the small airport in Split after a nice flight with magnificent views over the rocky Adriatic coastline with its numerous wooded islands dotting the blue sea, and being herded onto a bus for mere 50m journey from the plane to the terminal, we found ourselves queuing for one of the two immigration desks along with at least two other flight loads of people. Chaotic scenes ensued as British and Norwegian tourists were swamped by a plane load of Russians with apparently no understanding of the concept of queuing. Having negotiated the passport control, and splashing out on an expensive taxi ride in to Split due to the fact that it was evening and we were starving, we were dropped off at the edge of a maze of pedestrian streets and marched off into them thankfully finding our hostel almost straight away. We were met by the hostel’s ultra friendly host, given a map of the city with various highlighted recommendations, and so the bags were dumped and off we headed.
