07/08/2025
Kupalište Club Boninovo – sjećanja
Bilo je to mjesto koje nije trebalo reklamu. Club Boninovo, naše kupalište, naše utočište, naš dnevni boravak pod vedrim nebom. Nije imalo ulaznica, nije imalo pravila osim jednog: budi čovjek.
Dolazili smo tamo sa svih strana. Neki su dolazili s dekama, drugi s radijem, treći samo s osmijehom i dobrom voljom. I uvijek si nekoga našao. Čak i kad si mislio da si sam – nisi bio. Netko bi ti dobacio: "Đe si, kenova? Ajde sjedi, šta ima nova? " I eto, dan je bio spašen.
Roštilji su cvrčali, more je pjevalo svoju pjesmu, a smijeh – taj iskreni, domaći smijeh – odzvanjao je među stijenama. Feste su se znale protegnuti i do mraka, kad bi svjetla grada, poviše nas, na putu počela bljeskati , a mi bi još uvijek sjedili na betonu, pjevali i plesali.
To je bilo mjesto gdje si znao svakoga, a i onoga koga nisi – upoznao bi ga brzo. Pričalo se o svemu: o politici, o Dinamu i Hajduku, o ribama, o ljubavi. Nitko te nije pitao odakle si – jer si bio "naš".
A danas...
Danas dođeš, a na Boninovu tišina. Nema poznatih lica, nema gitare, nema ćakule. Samo gomila turista s bijelim kremama po nosu, i naš hlad – koji sad više nije naš. Sjede pod stijenama gdje smo nekad mi sjedali, i gledaju u mobitele dok more poziva, a srce šuti.
Mi – ako uopće dođemo – stojimo sa strane. Kao gosti na vlastitom mjestu. Kao podsjetnici da je ovdje nekoć bilo drugačije.
Možda smo se umorili. Možda smo odustali. A možda još negdje tinja ona stara iskra.
Jer Club Boninovo nije samo kupalište – to je osjećaj, to je duh. I dok god ga netko nosi u sebi, nije izgubljeno.
Club Boninovo Beach – Memories
It was a place that didn’t need advertising. Club Boninovo – our beach, our refuge, our living room under the open sky. There were no tickets, no rules – except one: be a decent human being.
We came from all directions. Some brought blankets, others a radio, and some just a smile and good vibes. And you’d always find someone there. Even if you thought you were alone – you weren’t. Someone would shout: “Hey, kenova? Come sit, what’s new?” And just like that, the day was saved.
The grills were sizzling, the sea sang its song, and laughter – that honest, local laughter – echoed through the cliffs. Parties would stretch into the night, when the city lights above us started to twinkle, and we’d still be sitting on the concrete, singing and dancing.
It was a place where you knew everyone, and even if you didn’t – you’d get to know them fast. We talked about everything: politics, Dinamo and Hajduk, fish, and love. No one asked where you were from – because you were “one of us.”
And today...
Today you come to Boninovo – and it’s silent. No familiar faces, no guitar, no chatter. Just a crowd of tourists with white sunscreen on their noses, and our shade – that’s no longer ours. They sit beneath the cliffs where we once sat, staring at their phones while the sea calls, and our hearts remain quiet.
We – if we even come – stand off to the side. Like guests in our own place. Like reminders that once, things were different.
Maybe we got tired. Maybe we gave up. Or maybe that old spark still flickers somewhere.
Because Club Boninovo isn’t just a beach – it’s a feeling, it’s a spirit. And as long as someone still carries it inside them – it’s not lost.
