Note: certain names and places have been changed to protect authenticity.
“I hate kite flying.”
– Bear, to no one in particular, after the kite festival in O.
You know when you love something so much you want to show it to everyone? When you are so excited, jumping up and down when you are getting closer to your special place with friends that have never been there – and are just about to see the magic for the first time? When you look at them as their eyes grow ever wider and their mouths twist into an (appropriate) O, you can actually see that special first time feeling overwhelm them …
That’s why we want to bring everyone to the festival in O.
Just imagine … the serenity of an old town by the river …
… the bizarre beauty of its murals …
… the incredibly emerald green river delta stretching from the town to the sea …
… the magnificent flying sculptures at the beach …
… and the utter craziness of the townspeople and their antics.
But, alas! – we can’t, because the town and its people don’t want to be attacked by the hordes of tourists. Reasonable, we say, as so many towns and places in Dalmatia are literally being overrun – and disfigured – by tourism.
So we brought some bears to attack them instead.
And a philosopher (or at least someone who really looks like one) to boot.
“Why?“
– Romek the Polish philosopher, when asked to throw a cup of coffee into the river
Well, that was a royal “we” – actually it was Žuža and Žare of the Croatian Kite Association who invited a bear from England to the festival, and he brought another one with him. And to enhance the terror of the beasts, a Polish philosopher was added.
And us, kite flying jokers from Slovenia. So at last the kite festival of O. became a true IKF: Zen O….. International Kite Festival!
We were based in a fantastic old house in the centre of the Medieval Venetian town that sits at the very apex of the Neretva delta, courtesy of Milton who generously let the kiters use his home during the festival. We instantly renamed it the Villa Actinidia, as the courtyard was covered with thick foliage of four old kiwi plants, creating a perfect shade.
And shade was needed badly: the temperature soared to barely manageable 38 degrees!
The festival itself was held on the beach, a stretch of fine sand gently deposited by the many branches of Neretva where they meet the sea. It is a river delta, after all. The shallow sea was warm, but still did a great job at cooling overheated kiters.
And overheated they were, for the show they put on was … amazing.
The first day of the Zen O. International Kite Festival started slowly … the wind was moody and wallowing, and the kites barely left the sand.
As the ride from Slovenia to Southern Dalmatia takes its time, we arrived just in time for the larger beasts to rise above the beach – and to enjoy a spectacular sunset, typical for this part of the Adriatic.
Then it was time for dinner – Josip took charge of the barbecue, and we started to thoroughly cool ourselves from the inside … with Union, of course 😉
An International kite festival featuring eight people from four countries is on the smaller side of festivals as they go, but it is huge regarding the work needed for it be as spectacular as possible.
At a large festival one can hide in the crowd, and one kite less or more among hundreds of them is not really an issue. But here we had to have at least two kites in the air per kiter, and with enormous flying bears and other monsters it was far from easy.
Took a lot of coordination and teamwork – putting up the tent and the flags; filling the anchor bags with sand (huge kites need huge anchors with huge amounts of sand!) and place them strategically to cover as much of the beach as possible; preparing the flying monsters to fly (untangling the lines and sorting out the bridles is very zen), and then letting them catch the wind (a big pilot kite or a manta pulls too much for one pair of hands, and in a strong maestral wind even three kiters can have hilarious problems with a barely controllable beast) …
And when the kites are up there, you can’t just leave them be and go for a swim in the warm Adriatic. Even in the most stable wind unpleasant things can happen, and on a crowded beach a crashing giant kite can do a lot of damage … not to mention all the kids there who are in awe of the aerial spectacle and are eager to “try” a kite – a kite with enough pull to cut through fingers like through butter.
So constant vigilance is a must, which can be hard when one wants to put as many kites in the air, but not too many to be unable to watch them all. For eight kiters twenty kites in the air is on the upper limit: each kiter is responsible for two flying monsters, and a couple of smaller kites can dance by themselves, requiring only an occasional glance.
So we were quite busy: watching the kites, always ready to run straight into the battle when one of the kites starts to behave badly, helping the others putting their kite up or pulling it down, moving the anchors to a better place, rolling the lines, hydrating, cooling off in the sea, catching a breath slumped on a chair in the shade of our tent …
Luckily Ivica of the Neretva kiteboarding was there, plying us with cold b…, ehm, drinks, and taking great care of us! (The beach where the kite festival was held is one of the best spots for kitesurfing in the whole of the Adriatic. The Mala Neretva point with more gentle winds is perfect for learning to kitesurf, and further out by the main mouth of Neretva river there is strong winds for the real masters.)
When the sun started to drop into the sea, we were dead tired. The sun, the wind, the kites … packing all the gear, driving back to O., … When we came back to Villa Actinidia, we couldn’t even think straight.
But then Ana and Josip came bringing a huge pot of something incredibly tasty, made with love by Josip’s mother. Pasta with ragout. Stuffed peppers. Assorted meats and cheese. Fruits and vegetables straight from the paradise that is the delta of Neretva.
The shining green triangle set among the white scorched mountains is a veritable paradise. Once a forbidding marsh, covered in mal aria, bad air, it was first tackled in the late 19th Century by the Austria-Hungary. The intrepid engineers straightened the meandering channels, fortified the river banks, and started to dig an immense mesh of canals that was expanded and perfected through the decades – and is still being improved, year after year.
The emerald is filled with gardens and vineyards, pomegranates and figs, but mainly with mandarines and other citrus trees. The mandarines of Neretva valley are among the best in the world, and the juices made by Josip under his GUUC brand are to die for!
The delta of Neretva is under attack though – the climate changed and less snow falls on the mountains of Bosnia, so less fresh water reaches the delta. This means that the sea is slowly creeping upstream (Neretva is a funny river, fresh at the surface, salty deeper down), and when the salt reaches the soil, all will be lost. Don’t let the mandarines of Neretva be among the first victims of climate change!
After the magic of the mother of Josip put us back in action, we commandeered the Old Bridge of O. to fly some monsters in the evening breeze above the town – and master Bear showed us how urban kite aerial photography should be done (the photos are amazing, and you shall be admiring them when the next article is ready).
What a way to end the day!
During one of the frantic kite changes – one monster down, another monster up – that took all hands on deck, our human Bear said something strange, at least to us.
“Wow, how beautiful this is, everyone doing everything together, always ready to give a hand, assisting in every way … one does not even have to call for help, as at least two of you are already running!”
We kinda looked at each other, puzzled. Isn’t that the normal state of affairs at kite festivals?
Turns out – not really. At least at the festivals Barry was a part of … People flying each for themselves, stealing the wind and anchors and places, laughing when a fellow kiter is in trouble …
Sure, we laugh too – there is no funnier thing than a friend in trouble – but … really?
Kite flying is (or at least should be) a team sport; even more – a social event, when everyone is a part of the whole festival, not just the king of their bouquet of kites, fending and flying alone. We are not monads, said Romek philosophically, no man is an island, and particularly no kiter.
We fly together, we crash together, we laugh together. That’s why kite festivals are for!
But as crazy and funny our IKF in O. was, and as many outlandish practical jokes we did to each other, it was nothing compared to what the good (and completely insane) people of O. did on a hot and humid Saturday evening …
“Prepare thy aged eyes to weep!”
– Sergeja, to the good people of O., just before she threw a coffee cup into the river really really far
Čikarijada is a local word deriving from čikara, meaning a coffee cup. Namely, one day years ago Giovanni and the crew were bored, and someone simply went and threw his čikara into the river. Seeing that, another of the guys stood up and threw his čikara too – just farther.
Of course a competition was born. A world championship of throwing coffee cups into the river.
This year it was the eighteenth (!) edition of Čikarijada, and the event, bizarre as it is, ticks off everything a true world championship has to have.
International competitors. Judges and jury. A measuring tape stretching out into the river for a hundred meters. Divers for precise measurement of the distance. Čikara boys in the boat collecting thrown cups. Two MCs, a powerful sound system, a lightshow, and decoration of the bridge from where the čikaras are thrown.
And hundreds of spectators!
An opening ceremony – and a closing fireworks show.
And a huge – huuuge – pot of mussels on buzara, prepared by the chefs of Pivčeva kala. So big is the pot they stir the buzara with … an oar.
Every competitor has two throws to make, and the top five have another two attempts. This year the overall winner was Roko Butigan – his čikara flew astonishing 61,133 meters! – and we made a good impression too: a new overall Slovenian record (39,00 meters!), a new women record of Slovenia, a new British record (hurrah for Bear!) …
… a successful night of sport and partying …
… that ended at the break of dawn.
The next day we had to leave for Slovenia – and even the sky started to cry.
And thus endeth the 2024 Zen O. International Kite Festival.
It was … beyond amazing.
Big thanks to … so many people. Žuža and Žare and Barry and Roman, of course. Milton, Ana and Giovanni, and David. Ana and Josip, and Josip’s mother, and Ivica. The organizers, the MCs, the judges, and the competitors of Čikarijada. The master chefs of Pivčeva kala and their mussels. The cat that watched our kites in awe, and the cat that works as vice president in charge of security at GUUC. The town of O. and its fantastic people.
All of you made yet again a fantastic, incredible, unforgettable kite festival – and more.
You made it impossible for us not to came back next year.
Thank you.
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