Hrvoje Šalković was born on 29 September 1973, at the Petrova Hospital in Zagreb.

He was conceived nine months before, on Christmas Eve 1972. The story tells that as Mrs. Mom was decorating the Christmas tree, she dropped one ornament. She bent over to pick it up...

Šalković has received a degree in Journalism from the College of Political Science at the University of Zagreb, after which he left for London for a few weeks, hoping to improve his English.
He stayed for three years.

He enrolled into a postgraduate course at the University of Westminster, where he published a number of papers, receiving his Master's Degree in 2000.

Šalković then returned to Zagreb, dedicating himself to writing and travelling.

During his studies, both in Zagreb and London, he amassed a solid collection of previous jobs. He polled for the Institute of Applied Research, he travelled as a salesman for a firm named Opremanje, professionally raced cars for the Delta and Siget Autoclubs, he washed carpets, drove generals (Petković, Šlopar), edited the transportation division bulletin, bounced at concerts, helped run a warehouse at London's East End, drove a supply truck for the Army & Navy company, sold hardware at London's Elephant & Castle market with a partner (a Turk), and worked as a journalist, a London correspondent, a representative of the Canadian telecom company TIW in Croatia, and the PR manager of the Status Grupa marketing agency, a CEO of the Vulkan d.o.o. iron casting company. Today he is employed by the Institute for Action, where he holds the position of authority as The Gonzo Issues Chairman.

From 1997, Šalković has changed many addresses, from Mikulići, to Gredice, Hrgovići, Knežija, Poljanice, Chiswick, Seven Sisters Road, Stamford Hill, Masarykova street... He moved fifteen times. In case that he finally writes something good, and the city fathers decide to put commemorative plaques on the buildings in which Šalković has lived, all this could seriously damage the city budget.

Šalković has been to seventy-two countries, visiting some in the conventional way, and some in a peculiar, gonzo way.

He rode Greyhounds from coast to coast of the United States. He rode trains from end to end of Australia. He travelled through all internationally recognised European countries (alongside two defected territories - Transdniester and Northern Cyprus) from Russia, Belarus and Ukraine in the east to Lisbon in the west; from Scotland, Norway and Finland in the north all the way down to the south of Greece. He did it all by bus, train, boat, driving on his own, or hitch-hiking.

He fired RPGs and bombed the jungles of Cambodia. He gambled in Vegas. He wandered the beaches of Brasil. He emptied bars in Miami and New York. He dove with dolphins in Mexico. He skied down the slopes of the Rocky Mountains. He debauched at the New Orleans carnival.

He speed-boated down Vietnam. He rode elephants in the jungles of Laos. He danced with Cuban girls in Havana. He run with bulls in Pamplona. He got into trouble... got arrested at the Melbourne airport. A hostel owner in New Orleans banished him into the night at gunpoint... He has travelled across South America, from Caracas in the North all the way to Patagonia at the Southern tip. He entered the ranchos of Caracas, rode around Bolivia and Peru by bus, climbed the ancient walls of Machu Picchu, visited the national parks of Patagonia. He danced tango in Buenos Aires, and basked in the sun on the piers of Uruguay. In India he rode with the bedouin across the desert of Rajasthan, celebrated New Year's Eve in the town of Jaipur, crashed weddings in Varanasi, attended a ritual cremation on the banks of the Ganges. In Nepal he partied with musicians, in Bangladesh he wandered around the local markets.
In his car, he zipped through Syria, Jordan, and Lebanon, wandered through Damascus, climbed the ancient town of Petra, watched the sun setting in the Wadi Rum desert. H