My dog Mika, my goofy, playful puppy, an explosion of energy that knows no such thing as “slow down.”
With her, there’s no long observing or quietly taking in the scenery. With her, everything is action. Running, jumping, fetching sticks. And her gaze - always fixed on me. As if asking: what’s next?
A German shepherd. A dog that craves tasks, play, and connection. Mika absolutely loves the Krka river. For her, Krka is Disneyland, and every location is a new attraction and another “ride.”
The upper course of the Krka can technically be explored in a single day. Realistically yes, it can. But there’s no point. This is a place to experience more slowly, over two or three days, with enough time to fully enjoy every stop. Because Mika doesn’t believe in “just a quick visit.”
We start in Skradin. If we catch the early morning, it’s the perfect place for the first coffee of the day. The view of the bridge and marina, the city slowly waking up, and Mika already circling the table because she knows this isn’t the final destination, just the warm-up. Skradin is always a good idea, both at the beginning and at the end.
Bribirska Glavica is one of those places people often skip. Yet it actually offers everything. History that doesn’t impose itself, but quietly surrounds you.
Ancient walls, remains of churches, traces of thousands of years of life layered upon one another. And all of it immersed in wide green open spaces. For Mika, perfect. Freshly cut meadows, a light breeze, and views stretching in all four directions. A place where she can run endlessly. This is where sticks are thrown one after another, with no plan and no end in sight.
Krka Monastery is the place where everything comes together. Vast green areas, shade, water and plenty of space to play. Mika gets everything she wants here: running through the grass, leaping into the water, then sniffing around and exploring all over again. The fishpond beside the walking path creates a rhythm, a bit of play, a bit of swimming, a bit of rest. And then all over again.
From the monastery to Trošenj, the drive takes about ten minutes, followed by a hike. We enter the landscape of the Dalmatian hinterland, dry-stone walls, olive groves, stone beneath our feet. The traces of livestock along the trail awaken that instinct in a shepherd dog that never truly disappears. Mika becomes focused there sniffing, tracking, pausing. The walk itself isn’t demanding, but the sight of two fortresses facing each other across the canyon gives this stretch a unique feeling. It’s not a spectacle, but it’s an important part of the story.
Manojlovac waterfalls are the highest waterfalls in Croatia. And that’s a fact I appreciate far more than Mika does. She’ll take in the view, but she’s really waiting for what comes next, the descent toward the old watermills. That’s where her territory begins. Narrow paths, hidden passages, a “secret” trail leading to an emerald-green pool. And water. Jump, swim, climb out, and then all over again. Happiness in motion.
Bilušića Buk may be the most complete stop for a dog like Mika. The walking trail that winds through the forest, over stone crossings, and alongside the water constantly offers something new. One moment she’s running, the next she’s exploring, the third she’s leaping into the water. The waterfall doesn’t reveal itself all at once, but gradually, through the sound and moisture in the air. Mika never stops here. There’s always one more stick to fetch, one more splash into the water, one more lap around the trail.
And in the end, as always - the reward
Gostionica kod Pere, Tavern at Pere. Roast suckling pig after a day full of movement has a special meaning. It’s not just lunch — it’s the closing of the circle. By then, Mika finally calms down. She lies somewhere in the shade, still wet, but peaceful. Tired in the best possible way.
The drive back toward Šibenik passes in silence. She falls asleep almost immediately, curled up on the back seat. After everything, finally at peace.
And maybe that’s the only moment of the day when Mika asks for nothing at all.
