Nine more Places to See in Split
Introduction
Here are nine more places to see in Split, not ranked in any particular order, and they range from typical touristy locations to otherwise ordinary parts. Some of the texts are longer so I have added a TL;DR section. Click the arrow symbol to skip ahead.
Pjaca, officially known as Narodni Trg or The People’s Square, is named after the Italian word “piazza” and is precisely what its name implies - a square. For five hundred years, this area was the center point of Split’s life and government. Formerly known as the “Gentleman’s Square”, it was the gathering place of Split’s intellectuals, politicians, and artists, and a place where the local gentry indulged in thought-provoking discussions and gossip.
Before its removal in the 19th century, the northern part of the square was almost entirely made up of the city council’s, mayor’s, and city government buildings, of which only the old City Hall remains. Its late Gothic design points to Venetian influences, particularly from the 15th and 16th centuries. Much of the old town’s appearance is the result of Venetian rule in Split and its dominant influence on design and architecture.
The hotel building across from it, and especially the Nakić House on the western end of the square, showcases the Central European influence in Split, a result of over a century of Austro-Hungarian rule. The Nakić House is a beautiful example of the Vienna Secessionist art movement, which influenced the design of many public buildings in Split at the turn of the 20th century.
The most unique building on the square is located at its southeastern corner. Known as the Benedetti-Ciprianis Palace, the house was built in 1394 by a wealthy nobleman and it is a rare example of Romanesque housing in Split. The statue on the corner portrays Saint Anthony the Great, the founder of organized monasticism. What stands out in this portrayal is the sculpture of a small man kneeling beside the saint, clutching his robes. The small figure represents the owner of the house, demonstrating his piety by portraying himself as small relative to the large sculpture of the saint.
Above the statue of the saint, left of the arcade window is a relief depicting a man and a woman who appear to be in some sort of argument. According to one interpretation, the man is holding a ball used for casting votes during city council sessions. Council members would drop such balls in boxes to vote for or against a proposal. Here, the wife is the one giving instructions to her husband on what to vote for, thereby showing who is the real boss in the house.
In another interpretation, the relief depicts Adam and Eve. He is holding the apple, and his shocked face reflects his realization of the loss of life in the Garden of Eden. The big twist here comes from the hand gesture Eve is showing to Adam. It is known as a “figa”, and it is made by placing your thumb between your index and middle finger. In Slavic countries, this hand gesture was the old way of giving someone the middle finger. It is said that in earlier times, women wronged by their husbands would leave flowers and burn candles on the corner of the street as a tribute to Eve’s defiance.
In the cafe across from the Benedetti-Ciprianis house, the first rules of the local football club Hajduk were laid out. The nearby Morpurgo bookstore was the first in Split and a critical publisher and supplier of books and newspapers in the Croatian language during the second half of the 20th century. Vid Morpurgo, the founder of the bookstore, was a key figure in the pitched battle for political supremacy in Split in the 19th century and in the struggle of local nationalists for the use of the Croatian language in public services. In front of the bookstore is a small monument to a grim event in Split’s history. In 1942, a group of fascists devastated the Jewish synagogue and nearby Jewish shops, creating a huge pyre of their inventory in the place where a small bronze book now serves as a reminder of the event.
It is one of Split’s most beautiful squares with some of the nicest architecture, exhibiting the influences of various art movements. From the Romanesque house on the southeastern corner the late-Gothic town hall on the north, the Renaissance house Pavlović on the southwest, the historicist building of the hotel on the south, to finally the Vienna secessionist house Nakić to the west.
People in Split can be divided into two categories: those who enjoy parading on the Riva and those who prefer the intimacy of the old town’s narrow alleys and cafes. This is true for most of the year until something important happens, such as the city day celebration, New Year's Eve welcome, Split’s teams winning competitions, or athletes winning Olympic medals. Then, the Riva becomes the place where all life in Split converges. One of the highlights of the year is the massive open-air bingo played for cash prizes during the city day celebration (7th of May), a tradition that goes back a century in Split.
The official name of the Riva shall not be mentioned here, since it is absurdly long and pointless, and many people in Split would not even recognize the place by that name. It has been expanded significantly from its starting point in front of the palace. The largest expansion was during the brief French rule of Split at the beginning of the 19th century (thanks to Napoleon’s conquests). The old Venetian fortress outside the southwestern corner of the palace was torn down (although two of its towers are still visible on the Fruit Square), and the space between the palace and the church of St. Francis was filled in.
Part of its iconic look comes from the 1920s when the mulberry trees were replaced by palm trees, which did not soil the ground like the fruit of the mulberry. Until the late 1990s, cars could still drive across the Riva, but the most radical change came in 2007 when the Riva was remade in today’s modern style. Many locals to this day despise the new look of the Riva, claiming that the ultra-modern design and modern materials used do not fit in with the old city in the background. Personal tastes aside, Riva’s transformation points to an intrinsic characteristic of Split’s existence, which is the constant change through which each generation and era has left its unique imprint on the city’s fabric.
Its new look personified the wishes of the late 2000s: the idea of a modern city looking to bridge its ancient core with the coming future. At that time, Split was also a city on the brink of the tourist revolution, just before the disaster of the 2008/2009 global financial crisis that decimated the already wounded city industry, leading to a massive shift in the city’s economy throughout the 2010s. This resulted in an overreliance on tourism and an astronomical rise in the cost of living.
Even with all of the changes, Riva embodies the lifestyle of Split like no other place. It is the amalgamation of the laid-back, take-it-easy lifestyle usually associated with a Split mentality, countless hours spent drinking coffee, incessant gossip, and a non-stop vanity fair that nonetheless carries with itself that irresistible Mediterranean charm.
Whatever opinion one has on the Riva, the old living room of Split remains at its core—unavoidable.
The Riva is the center of life in Split. It is where the New Year’s Eve celebration takes place, as well as the city day celebration, concerts, athlete’s welcomes, and all other kinds of events. It is where the vane in Split come to show off their branded clothes, and where locals spend hours incessantly gossiping while sipping their small espresso.
The 19th century is often seen as the age of progress. The scientific and industrial revolutions were in full swing, and new ideas of citizenship, nationality, capitalism, and socialism had taken root in the European mind. Split’s experience of the 19th century was far from an industrial wonder seen throughout Central and Western Europe, but modern ideas did not altogether bypass its shores. The new city gentry, the bureaucrats, the highly educated, and the industrialists sought to fashion the city like the great European capitals.
The first large-scale modernizing works in Split came with the brief but influential French rule during Napoleon’s conquests. Large parts of the former bastion defense system, built in the mid-17th century to protect the city against the Ottoman Empire, were removed to open up the city, laying the groundwork for future expansion. Burials inside the city were forbidden, and a rule was passed that future cemeteries needed to be outside the city. The Riva was expanded when the old Venetian castle was torn down, and a bold but completely mad idea was proposed that Diocletian’s Palace should be stripped of all its later construction, leaving behind only the Roman infrastructure. Luckily, this idea never materialized.
The most iconic symbol of French rule in Split has always been Marmontova Street, a new wide street built on the western end of the old city, separating the historic core from the fishermen's and farmers' neighborhood of Veli Varoš on the slopes of Marjan Hill. Named after Napoleon’s marshal Auguste Marmont, who governed the region in Napoleon’s name, the new street was radically different from the narrow alleys of Medieval and Early Modern times. The old streets formed organically as the city population huddled inside the city walls, curving, bending, and meandering like furrows left by gushing streams. Marmontova was the first planned, straight-built street in Split since the construction of the palace!
Later in the 19th century, when Split was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, on a nearby plot of land, the hugely popular but controversial mayor of Split, Antonio Bajamonti, initiated the building of a new city square, the Prokurative. Bordering Marmontova Street with its eastern wing, Prokurative Square was modeled after the prokurative buildings on Saint Mark’s Square in Venice. This was not just a random stylistic choice. Bajamonti was the leader of the Dalmatian Autonomous Party, the local sympathizers of Italian culture, and his grand new square was designed to point to the almost 400-year-long Venetian rule over the city of Split.
It was envisioned initially as a series of buildings that would house public and commercial offices, while the central part was reserved for the new grand theatre as the foremost cultural institution in the city. Following the theme of the place, the new theatre performed only works in Italian or by Italian artists.
From its inception, the construction of the Prokurative complex was riddled with controversies, lawsuits, accusations of fraud, money laundering, and irresponsible management of city funds. It became a political battleground between the two main political factions in the city and an opportunity for Bajamonti’s rivals to discredit his reputation.
His opposition was the Croatian nationalists, gathered in the People’s Party, who were finally able to wrest control of the city from Bajamonti and the Autonomists towards the end of the 19th century. When the short-lived theatre on Prokurative burned down in a fire, the new city government, led by Gajo Bulat, commissioned the building of the HNK, the Croatian National Theatre in Split on the far end of Marmontova Street. Its construction was a landmark moment, signaling the change in which Croatian culture finally came into its rightful place. The Croatian National Theatre is still in function today, while Prokurative remains one of Split’s most beautiful squares.
The 19th century was a time of great improvement for the city, and these three locations are most symbolic of the whole period. The Prokurative Square is now one of the most beautiful squares in the city, Marmontova Street is the nicest street in the old part of town, and the Croatian National Theatre has been the premier cultural institution in Split since its opening in 1893.
A true treasure of Split, a walk through Marjan Hill’s nature is the best way to escape the hectic city life. Nicknamed “the city lungs,” it is a protected nature reserve, important for its diverse plant life, and dotted with historical landmarks. The whole hill is surrounded by beaches and coves where many locals seek shelter from the overcrowded, touristy beaches in the summer months. Like Split itself, the name of Marjan comes from ancient Roman times, derived from the family name Marulianus, which owned large portions of the hill.
The best view of the entire city is from “Prva vidilica” or “The First Viewpoint,” which sits atop the Veli Varoš neighborhood and can easily be reached via a staircase from the waterfront. Behind the viewpoint is the Old Jewish Cemetery, founded in 1573. The path along the southern side of the hill offers scenic views of the Adriatic Sea and the nearby islands. The trail passes by old churches such as the Church of Saint Nicholas, built in 1219, Our Lady of Bethlehem, and Saint Jerome, where Split’s hermits once lived in the caves above the church. In the Church of Our Lady of Bethlehem, Christmas Eve mass begins at 15:00, a tradition that dates back to a time before artificial lighting, when mass was celebrated early so that people could find their way back to the city before dark.
On the far side of the hill, and one of the best places in Split to watch the sunset, is the Church of Saint George. In ancient times, a temple to the Roman goddess Diana was located on the spot of the present-day church. The highest point of Marjan is Telegrin Peak, 178 meters above sea level, offering a wonderful view of the entire surrounding area.
The northern side of the hill is popular for its deep shade, ideal during the summer for a respite from the heat, and bays like Bene, Lubinski Porat, and Prva Voda are perfect locations for swimmers. The most popular beach on Marjan is Kašjuni, located on its southern side. Although it is a bit further from the old town, it is the most versatile beach in Split. Its central part is ideal for typical sea activities; a small, separate section to the south is a dog beach; the farthest point to the right is the only nudist beach in Split, and further along the hill are rocks perfect for cliff jumping. Above Kašjuni Beach, in a locality known as Bembina Glavica, are the oldest prehistoric remains of human life found on Split’s soil.
Whichever way one decides to explore Marjan Hill, it provides a necessary refreshment from the strenuous city asphalt and a fresh perspective on the 1700-year-old city.
Marjan hill is the city’s green oasis. A place to escape the hectic city life and enjoy nature, great panoramic views, or a swim in some of its many coves and beaches.
Bačvice Beach is neither the prettiest, nor the largest, nor the most pleasant beach in Split, yet it has become a part of the city's identity. The reason for this is a special game played on the beach called Picigin.
The rules of Picigin are very simple. Five people form a circle in shallow water and attempt to keep a small ball in the air for as long as possible by striking it with an open palm, without letting it touch the water. (Ideally, Picigin is played by five people, but any number can honestly play the game). Traditionally, the ball for Picigin is made by peeling the outer layer of a tennis ball and then sanding the rubber core until it is thin enough so that it does not hurt when struck.
And basically, that is it. There is no score, and there are no winners or losers in this game. There have been attempts at competitions where the winner was determined by how long they were able to keep the ball in the air, combined with judges' scores of how impressive the players’ saves and acrobatics were. What gives the game its special flare are the saves the players need to make in order to keep the ball in the air. Experienced Picigin players will intentionally hit the ball “u for,” meaning ahead of the receiving player so that they need to run and jump for the ball to reach it.
This is where most of the fun of playing Picigin comes from, the joy of catching up to a difficult ball and striking it back to the other players. Since the game is played in the shallow, the fine sand and the water cushion the impact when diving for the ball, and injuries are extremely rare. Some people in Split are known to play Picigin even in their seventies and eighties.
Being a sandy beach is another reason for Bačvice’s popularity. Most of the Dalmatian coastline is rocky, and sand is an exception. It was also the first public beach in Split when the modern idea of swimming for leisure came about in the 19th century. As strange as it sounds to us today, a few generations ago, even those who lived on the islands never went to the sea to swim, and many never even learned how to swim!
The best time to go to Bačvice is early in the morning before most tourists who spent the previous night in clubs and bars arrive and decide to cure their hangover with a swim. The morning is when the sea is usually the calmest and the tide is low, which creates perfect conditions for a game of Picigin. Go to the Pazar in Split, buy a small ball, and join the fun.
Bačvice Beach is Split’s most iconic beach where locals go to play a special game called picigin. It is a game played in shallow water where a group of players must keep a small ball in the air for as long as possible by striking it with their palm, without letting it touch the sea. Might not sound much at first but it is great fun and very popular.
Split is one of those cities that are obsessed with sports. This passion is ingrained in the minds of most from an early age. Children are pushed to play sports because the pervading wisdom is that it is necessary for proper physical development. Successful athletes are just as big celebrities as musicians and actors and are given organized welcomes when they win competitions.
Of course, not everyone in Split is a die-hard fan, and many could care less about the numerous sports achievements, but a disproportionately large number care deeply.
Of all the sports, nothing comes even remotely close to the fanaticism for the local football team Hajduk. Founded in 1911, the team has become nearly synonymous with the city itself, and its players are as a rule the city’s biggest superstars. Older generations still tell stories of Hajduk’s old stadium “Stari Plac,” and some swear that Poljud, the new stadium, never had as good of an atmosphere.
Personal opinions aside, Poljud Stadium is undeniably an architectural beauty. It was built in 1979 when Split hosted the Mediterranean Games and the stadium’s capacity is currently around 33,000. The idea behind its design was to look like an open clam, reflecting the maritime nature of Split and the Mediterranean. The games hugely modernized the city, sparking the construction of new sports arenas and residential neighborhoods. Like the stadium, other venues followed the same maritime guiding principle, such as the closed swimming pools behind the stadium whose building was designed in the shape of waves.
Anyone wishing to buy a souvenir can visit the official Hajduk fan shop below the stadium’s western stands. There is also the option of a stadium tour and even a zip line along the roof. For the less adventurous, a simple walk around the stadium should suffice. Poljud Stadium is nicknamed the “Poljud beauty”. However, walk by close enough and the signs of wear and tear and neglect by the city and the club are plainly visible. The stadium is no longer the awe-striking, cutting-edge design wonder that it was in the late 1970s, but she’s still a beauty, our stadium, like actresses from the golden age of Hollywood, who have lost their youth, but none of their grace and charm.
The stadium of the local football team Hajduk Split, which is a quasi-religion in the city. When it was first built in 1979, the stadium was considered one of the most beautiful football stadiums in the entire world.
The main reason for visiting Fortress Gripe is usually for parking, as it is the closest free parking zone to the old town. Locals take advantage of this daily, but for those who find driving into the fortress daunting, there is a more convenient option of paid parking in front of the city’s basketball arena.
Besides the practical aspect, Gripe Fortress might not seem like much at first glance. It is hidden away among surrounding houses and is horribly neglected by the city government. However, if one can look past its shortcomings, one will see a stellar example of 17th-century military fortifications. Facing the threat of the Ottoman invasion, the Republic of Venice debated whether to let the city of Split fall or defend it. Luckily, they decided on the latter, and Split joined Venice’s fortification system in the Adriatic. It was an infrastructural project on a scale not seen since the 6th century when the Byzantine emperor Justinian erected a line of fortifications along the east Adriatic as protection against the Goths.
Situated on a critical hill overlooking the city, Gripe Fortress was built according to the latest demands in military technology. As cannons began to dominate European battlefields, old Medieval walls were insufficient to protect the city against cannon fire. This led to the development of the bastion defense system, in which fortifications were built in star-like shapes with protruding “bastions,” creating chokepoints to trap attackers and forward cannon emplacements for defenders. The walls of these new fortifications were built thick and filled with dirt to withstand repeated cannon fire. Also, the outside of the wall was slanted to minimize the impact of cannonballs.
Gripe was designed by Venetian architect Allesandro Magli, who predated the more famous Louis XIV’s military architect Marquis of Vauban, who later perfected this design. This system of fortifications is often named after Vauban.
Today, Gripe houses the Maritime Museum of Split in the building of the former barracks. The outside exhibits around the fortress can be freely explored. Its largest exhibit is the bow of the ship Bakar. During WWII, Bakar was used by the Partisan resistance movement for transporting refugees from the Dalmatian coast to Allied-controlled territories. It made most of its voyages under the cover of darkness. During the day, the crew would find a secluded cove and camouflage the ship with tree branches to avoid detection by German reconnaissance planes. After the war, the ship was decorated with a medal for its services. After it was decommissioned, its bow became part of the museum and the fortress.
Finally, when exploring Gripe, you might come across a strange encounter. The area around the fortress is today home to around 20 peacocks. Originally brought by soldiers stationed in the fortress to be kept as pets, the peacocks spread to the surrounding neighborhood once the army left. Some love them, while others hate them because of how loud they are, and how freely they often decide to walk across parked cars or fly up to the surrounding balconies. In any case, they are now protected by law, and the neighborhood is unimaginable without them.
Gripe fortress was built in the 17th century to protect the city against the Ottoman invasion. It is a great example of military architecture of the early modern period. Today, it is the location of the Maritime Museum of Split and where a band of peacocks freely roams the neighborhood.
The main stories tourists hear in Split are all about the grand narratives of the Roman Empire, the megalomania of its emperors, gods, and saints, centuries of conflict with the Ottomans, or the injustices suffered throughout the long years spent as part of various foreign empires and kingdoms.
Beneath the fancy tales and legends, the true heart and soul of Split have always been its people and their honest, lively, witty, and teasing character, whose irresistible charm has made more people fall in love with Split than all the grandeur of Diocletian’s Palace.
The Veli Varoš neighborhood has in recent years become a hub of Airbnb rentals, but its narrow streets and stone houses still keep the memory of a bygone era. These houses were once populated by Split’s fishermen and farmers, who day after day performed backbreaking work just to make ends meet. Their houses are a great example of traditional Dalmatian architecture. Mainly built of local limestone, their simple design reflected their inhabitants' needs. The ground floor was usually the storage room of a house, also known as a “konoba” (this is why many restaurants have “konoba” in their name since people converted their storage rooms into taverns). Then there is often a “balatura,” a staircase with a balcony leading to the first floor, where the main living areas were. To allow for more light and space in their attics, “luminari” were incorporated into roofs, which were built as protruding windows with a roof of their own. Windows had either “grilje,” grille-style shutters, or solid shutters known as “škure.” The small streets of such old neighborhoods are called “kale”, and there were usually several of them which were intersected with smaller “kalete”, and if one was particularly larger and more significant than others then it was called “kalelarga”.
The most famous example of this traditional architecture in Split is Vila Ridulin. It is one of the smallest houses in Split and one that inspired Split’s composer Ivo Tijardović to compose one of his most popular operettas, “Splitski Akvarel.” The aria “O Kućo Mala” was composed with Vila Ridulin in mind. Tijardović was not the only artist to draw inspiration from ordinary people’s lives to create great works of art. Writers such as Miljenko Smoje and Marko Uvodić became famous for their portrayals of local characters. They masterfully showed both life’s hardships and tragedies, as well as the joyous humor and pride with which people carried themselves.
Although Veli Varoš is no longer the noisy and overcrowded place it once was, its stone streets are the city’s unique fingerprint.
The old Split's neighborhood of fishermen and farmers, it is one of the best examples of traditional Dalmatian architecture, and a good place to have lunch.
This part is for true lovers of modern architecture and for all who possess the rare ability to find beauty in otherwise hideous objects.
At the end of the 1970s, Split hosted the Mediterranean Games, sparking the largest infrastructural development of the city since Diocletian built his palace in 305 AD. Besides the brand-new sports arenas like Poljud Stadium, Gripe indoor arena complex, and new Olympic swimming pools, entire residential neighborhoods were planned and built to the east of the city. What makes all of these places stand out is an entirely new way of thinking about socialist architecture.
Since the end of WWII, the communist regime mostly followed the typical Soviet-inspired design, preferring clean shapes of apartment blocks arranged in planned street layouts, altogether rejecting the previous bourgeois tendencies of smaller, individual houses surrounded by gardens, or tightly packed rows of traditional stone houses.
Believing that design should reflect the people’s character, this soulless Soviet trend of the 1950s and 1960s was judged inadequate for a coastal Mediterranean town, forcibly alienating people used to a more communal, open lifestyle. The new neighborhoods of Split 3 and Trstenik had three guiding principles. First, Split’s ancient Roman heritage; second, the traditional lifestyle of a coastal Mediterranean town; and third, the modern, avant-garde working-class town of smoke and steel. The streets of these neighborhoods were laid out in the classic Roman way of cardo and decumani, a system in which streets were laid out along the north-south and the east-west axis.
The best example of such a “cardo” is Ruđera Boškovića Street, which begins at the university campus on the north and finishes in the residential block on the south. This street was envisioned as the new city center of modern Split, a long pedestrian zone filled with shops and offices that would replace the dominance of the old town. It never realized its intended potential, and even just after its construction, a famous Split writer commented on the lack of “soul” when compared to the old neighborhoods.
Apartment blocks were completely reimagined, and buildings like the “Krstarica” were designed to look like large ships, while other blocks sought to recreate the intimate feel of a traditional “kala,” a narrow, stone-paved street of old Dalmatian neighborhoods. In another part of Split, on the hill Gripe, together with the indoor sports arenas, the first shopping center in Former Yugoslavia was built. Again, unlike its Western counterparts which were built in large single-enclosed buildings, Shopping Centar Koteks was designed as an open-space shopping concept, with shops laid out through various levels.
The results of this ambitious project were mixed. Koteks did not stand the test of time as a shopping mall, although its parts are still used for sports purposes, shops, and restaurants. Today, people tend to do most of their shopping in the modern malls which look exactly like the ones in the west. Ruđera Boškovića Street never replaced the old town as the favorite gathering place of locals, while Krstarica now appears more often like a giant concrete monster than the flagship of socialist architecture.
Still, the sports and housing infrastructure proved vital in the city’s development throughout the late 1970s and 1980s, giving Split a second wind before the catastrophic war in the 1990s, followed by years of stagnation and decline in industry and infrastructure. Always a controversial topic, many people remember fondly the period of the late 1970s and 1980s, when the local football team was at its strongest, and Split peaked as a blue-collar, gritty but charismatic harbor city that for a brief moment, leaped to the very frontier of modernity.
A modern neighborhood built in the late 1970s, it is representative of new design ideas in socialist countries, in which an attempt was made to combine socialist modernism with traditional motifs.