The envelope had been sitting within easy reach in Angie’s backpack for days.
Written on it: “Kuna 522,43”.
Angie had received it from her father. Inside were the last Croatian banknotes and a few coins. About seventy euros’ worth. Before the trip, she had found out that you could still exchange the old currency for euros at the Croatian National Bank in Zagreb. But only there.
The question was: was it worth a detour at all?
As we drove from Ljubljana towards Croatia, we kept discussing it. We even asked ChatGPT. In purely economic terms, probably not. Seventy euros did not justify half a day of travelling.
In the end, we went with our instinct: we were going to Zagreb.
Mission: central bank
We parked in a car park in the Upper Town. Just right for us with the bicycles on the rear carrier: spacious, uncomplicated and close enough to the centre.
First, a cheese roll.
Then Google Maps.
The route took us through the busy streets of the city centre, across Ban Jelačić Square, past Dolac Market to the Croatian National Bank.
An imposing building stood before us. Exactly how we had imagined a central bank.
Only no currency was being exchanged there.
Large signs outside the entrance politely explained that exchanges now took place at a different address. So we retraced part of our route. There, instead of monumental state architecture, we found a rather unassuming courtyard entrance.
We checked in at reception. A friendly security guard showed us the way. Behind a glass frontage was a small counter office. They sold gold coins there too.
Then it was Angie’s turn.
A few minutes later, the exchange was complete: the 520 kuna in banknotes had become 69 euros and 2 cents. The 2 kuna and 43 lipa in coins could no longer be exchanged.
The amount was neatly receipted. The euro banknotes Angie received were brand new. The coins shone. Of course. When money comes straight from the central bank, it looks the part.
More than an exchange
The kuna coins were not exchanged. They had finally lost their value and ended up in the bin. Throwing money away felt strange.
Perhaps that is precisely where something interesting lies.
Being able to exchange old banknotes years after the introduction of the euro is more than a service. It is a quiet promise: this money was once valid. So its value will be preserved.
A day in Zagreb
After our little mission, the day was not over.
We drank coffee and ate štrukli from the bakery. Then we walked up alongside the funicular, only 66 metres long, to the Upper Town and arrived just in time for the cannon shot from Lotrščak Tower.
We realised that Zagreb was different from the other places we visited on this journey. Less postcard scene. More capital city.
Of course we could have let the seventy euros go. But then we would never have gone to Zagreb.
The old currency had given us back not only its monetary value, but a day of travelling — and the memory of a small, very personal mission.