Oatia. It's Not the Same Without the CR

For our last dinner in Zagreb, we find (oddly) a Croatian-Asian fusion restaurant.  Try saying that five times fast.  Since Croatian-Asian fusion is too much of a tongue twister, I take to calling it "Cro-Asian."  The meal is just "Cr-OK-tian," however.  Anthony rolls his eyes at my punny critique.

We are driving away from Zagreb, through much of Croatia, in our little rental car, our wheelchair returned to the hotel and an old stroller taken in its place and jammed into the trunk.  The roads are well marked and relatively fast, other than the inexplicable traffic jam that has us literally parked and walking around on the superhighway and adds about 2 extra hours to what should have been a 2 hour drive.  The girls think it is a highlight of the trip to walk around on a highway.  G takes a photo:

On the radio station, we find Croatian country, which I immediately dub "Crountry."  Anthony is enertained neither by the term I've coined, nor by the actual music, so he changes stations and finds rock, which I, of course, dub "Crock."   This makes the endless tech music we've been hearing, especially in restaurants at night, "Crisco."  And that brings us to all of the hip-hop, which becomes -- naturally --  "Crap."  Anthony wants to "Crill" me right about now.