Adventure Day 1 - Portland to Zagreb Croatia

Today kicks off the grand journey from Portland to Croatia, and morale is… complicated. I’m excited. Yara, meanwhile, has already promoted herself to “Director of International Operations” and is treating my carry‑on like a private suite. She demanded a window seat and attempted to order champagne before we even left the driveway.

The first leg takes us from Portland to Heathrow, where Yara claims she has “unfinished business” in Terminal 3. I didn’t ask for details, but security definitely recognized her. The moment her porcelain silhouette slid through the X‑ray machine, the agent paused, leaned in, and asked if she was “the one from last time.” Yara refused to comment. I’m starting to think she actually does have a file somewhere.

After Heathrow, it’s onward to Zagreb, where I’ll trade airplanes for a city bus into town. Yara announced that buses are “beneath her,” but since she can’t walk, she doesn’t get a vote. The real chaos started once we boarded: she immediately tried to commandeer the vehicle. She pointed at the driver, declared herself “Captain of Ground Transport,” and — in flawless, absolutely flawless Croatian — began giving him alternate directions for a “more scenic route.”

The driver glanced at her, then at me, then back at her, and decided the safest option was to pretend none of this was happening. Honestly, I respect his professionalism.

Despite my whole “no reservations, no plan” philosophy for this trip, I did book a hotel for the first night. Mostly because after a transatlantic haul, I don’t trust myself — or Yara — to wander Zagreb looking for a place to sleep. She’d probably start negotiating with pedestrians.

Once we check in, the real adventure begins. New country, new rhythm, and a porcelain travel companion who is absolutely going to get us into trouble.

If you want, I can also add a moment where the bus driver responds to her in Croatian, or where Yara insists she should have her own transit card.