When Zmajoljupci call, we ride.
The summons arrived on Friday: Žuža and Žare, ever faithful disciples of those lying meteorologists, chose to believe the forecast – and by Saturday morning we were already in the car, reasonably well stocked with kites, pointing ourselves towards the Croatian capital.
The day turned out splendidly. Spring at her absolute finest: sun, warmth – and wind! A perfect stage for… well, yet another IKF by definition, as there were at least two people from at least two different countries flying kites, with at least two entirely unrelated individuals observing them.
So… welcome to the traditional 379th IKF Zagreb 2026!
And there were certainly more than two spectators. The bank of the Sava near a club rather poetically named The Swamp is prime territory for strolling, cycling, running, or simply collapsing gracefully into the grass and appreciating spring in all its perfection.
The thing is, however, that all this exaggeration and bragging about yet another “IKF” is largely beside the point. What actually matters is whether the moment – that fleeting stretch of time spent out on the kite field – is pleasant.
It was.
Kites, as it happens, are rather good at advertising themselves. They soar high, ambush the gaze of unsuspecting burghers, and generally refuse to be ignored. Children, in particular, are highly susceptible to their charms; their gloriously unspoilt curiosity makes them expert detectors of strange things in the sky.
“What’s that, Dad?”
“Er… no idea…”
“Let’s go and investigate!”
They drove to The Swamp … in droves.
“We came because the kid spotted it from the car.”
“I saw something flying from Novi Zagreb and simply had to find out what it was.”
“We noticed something odd in the sky all the way from Trešnjevka…”
“It’s so amazing… wow…”
“Mom, I really need a kite …”
And the kids, always slightly to the side at first, a bit shy, but eyes wide … The moment one of them is handed a line and told, “You’re a pilot now!” – everything changes. For they become pilots for real. And the running and screaming, the fun and joy all seem endless.
We had a table and a couple of chairs, some rather decent cheese and salami, and a selection of cold cans. We even ordered pizzas, and the delivery chap was so mesmerised by the flying beasts that he lingered far longer than logistics would normally permit, his phone ringing insistently, other hungry customers needing him and his pizzas … but look! Kites! It can wait!
The wind, meanwhile, was in one of its moods – the kites rose, danced, sulked, and occasionally threatened a dramatic retirement into the Sava, only to change their minds at the last possible moment and climb again, splashing colour across the sky above The Swamp.
And then, quite suddenly, it was late afternoon. The sun dipped lower, the wind lost interest …
Only the trilobite held its post in the sky like a stubborn punctuation mark.
And it was over.
A quick, ahem, “coffee” (or three) – with Antonia and Vlado from Prvić! – and it was time to head home.
A perfect kite day in Zagreb. More to come!
379. IKF Zagreb 🤣🤣.. jako!
😀