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Leaving Crete

If getting to Crete proved to be harder than we anticipated, as we shared here, getting off the island was a breeze. The good people at Cretan Transfers were waiting for us in the hotel lobby at 6.30am and by 7.30am we had wheeled our bags up the large ramp, to the SeaJet Super Runner. The boat that was to carry us from Heraklion in Crete to Fira on the island of Santorini.

And it was all going so well. We pulled away from the dock on time. Settled into our comfortable seats, and got our books out. About two thirds of the way into our two hour journey to Santorini, I checked my watch, and blissfully thought of that first cold bottle of Mythos. It won’t be long now. Or so I thought. Then came the announcement.

Adrift in the Sea of Crete

“Due to a direction from the coastguard, we have to change course and go help a boat in distress”.

We waited. And waited. And nothing else came. It seems this was the only update we were getting. Looking around the boat there were a lot of confused faces.

“What is going on”, I asked a recalcitrant staff member on the boat, “How long until we get to Santorni?”

“We don’t know”, was the rather unhelpful reply, followed by a shrug of the shoulders before they walked off.

This left us not knowing how close we were to our destination, nor how long the detour would be. It did not help that the sea was getting rather choppy and my stomach started to feel rather crappy. 

The Ghost Boat

What felt like an age later I could see people start to stand up and move over to the boat’s windows on the left. And then I saw what they were looking for. A solitary boat bobbing about in the water. This was our “boat in distress”. Tied up behind it, in the water, was the dinghy the owners must use to access the boat. The captain of our vessel sounded the horn. We started circling the boat. And yet, nobody appeared. It was like a ghost boat. Very eerie. As we were in the middle of the ocean the owners obviously hadn’t just jumped in for a swim. Something was amiss.

Circling the boat numerous times, each time bouncing up and down in the waves, I started to feel worse and worse. All around me I could hear people heave into sick bags. I took a few large breaths. Then a few more. We can get through this.

And we did. Eventually. After what felt like an age, we got another announcement that told us we could leave the boat and continue on to Santorini. The “ghost boat” would forever remain a mystery. Some four hours after we left Crete we spotted the island of Santorini. I would have preferred the scheduled two hour trip but after seeing the abandoned boat, I had a worry that somebody had had a much worse day than us. We had a lot to be grateful for.

Santorini

Santorini is a beautiful island. Without doubt one of the most scenic of the Greek Isles. It is blessed with charm and a coastline that has no rival. Unfortunately, this charm brings a side that drives me mad. Queues and queues of camera phone wielding Instagrammers. Some even bring bags for a change of clothes for each shot. Give me strength. We were last on the island three years ago and things were bad then. I even had a person ask that I move, in the street, as my “shadow was in their photo”. Correct, I didn’t move. Granted, three years ago we stayed in Oia which is particularly infested with these people.

We hadn’t planned to return to Santorini so soon, yet it made perfect sense when looking at options whilst we were on Crete. So here we were, although this time we spent three nights in Fira, the main town on the island. The views across the caldera are still breathtaking, but Fira attracts less of the annoying types than its beautiful sister, Oia.

One morning in Fira we got talking to an elderly Greek lady. Typical of the Greek islands she was dressed head to toe in black. And she was gazing out over the clifftops, and the water.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”, she asked. “I was born here and return once a year for this view. Each time it is like the first time I have ever seen it”.

“Yes”, we immediately agreed, “it is truly beautiful.”

The look of peace and serenity on the old lady’s face was something that stayed with me for a long time afterwards. 

How to spend your days on Santorini

Our days on Santorini were spent finding the best gyros. Finding the cheapest moussaka. Squeezing in another long lunch down at Amoudi Bay. And doing our laundry. It is not all three star hotels and carafes of house wine when we travel. We also have to do the quotidian. Laundry being the one task we most look forward to. After wearing my socks for multiple days on the trot, there comes a time when if I didn’t take them to be washed, I think they would walk themselves there.

With a laundry bag of freshly washed clothes, we packed up for the last time and headed to the port. It was a travel day. And today, we were headed somewhere new for both of us. The island of Mykonos. An island with a reputation for partying. Not the reason we were headed there, I can assure you. At the port, we overheard one of these tourists that you encounter rather regularly. One that seems to know everything. Been everywhere. And is full of advice.

Mykonos is closed, apparently

It wasn’t advice we needed and when we heard her tell some fellow travellers that “Mykonos is closed”, we looked at each rather sceptically. She carried on. Saying that “everything has shut up for the season”, having been on the island and hearing all the fireworks for the various “closing for the season” parties that bars and clubs were holding.

What we found for our three nights on Mykonos was the opposite. Restaurants were open, and at capacity. Cruise ships were coming in daily and until they stopped docking in Mykonos I very much doubt that the restaurant owners would prematurely choose to close. Staying in a hotel just a 5 minute walk to the town, and the famous windmills, was a masterstroke. Visiting family tavernas, we both managed to get our fix of traditional Greek food. Kleftiko and moussaka topped the list. Would we ever tire of this cuisine? A rhetorical question I always ask myself.

It was to meet one of the cruise ships that had us walking to the port on a beautiful, if somewhat windy day. Little did I know that Mykonos is renowned for the wind that whips through the streets. Off the Norwegian Gem cruise ship came Victoria’s brother and family. We were going to spend the day with them. The timing had worked out perfectly as they were on a cruise between Croatia, Montenegro, and Greece. Having been on the road for a while it was great to catch up with family again.

Athens bound

With James back on the cruise ship, and our time on Mykonos coming to a close, we headed back to the hotel. We were to spend the afternoon around the hotel pool, considering where to go next. As we were nearing November, the smaller islands were closing up for the season. Very few hotels remained open. So we made a plan to head to the capital. The seat of European civilization.

We were headed to Athens.

Leaving Dubrovnik

The taxi from Dubrovnik old town to the airport was on time. A good start to a long travel day. Thirty minutes and we were at the airport. A little early for check in so I had a burek and coffee for breakfast. The burek was traditionally a Yugoslavian breakfast and you can still buy them all over Croatia. I had taken a particular liking to the cheese version. 

Going to Greece

We were here for a flight to Crete. An island in Greece that I had not been to previously. As with most trips to the Greek islands via plane we were to transit through Athens airport. Easy enough, I thought, as this is a transfer we have done often, on previous trips.

Just like clockwork, our flight from Dubrovnik to Athens left on time, having us in Athens early enough for me to stop worrying that our bags might not make the transfer. Athens airport feels like familiar ground now, having transited through so many times. I know where the gyros is. And where the beer is. Just as importantly, I know where the departure gates are

And we got to gate 28 slightly early. All looked good. This was until we crept closer to our departure time. And then nothing. No announcements. No movement at the gate. Just an ominous silence. 

The silence was eventually broken, with an announcement that we would not be departing at the specified time and that we would get “further news” in a couple of hours. What? Did we hear that right? I wandered to the counter and enquired. 

An anxious wait

Yes we heard right. Due to the bad weather conditions on the island of Crete, our flight was delayed and we would have more news later. When the news came, it was worse. Heraklion airport on Crete was currently closed. It had flooded and they had staff frantically trying to clear it. Until they did, there would be no flights in or out of the island. 

My thoughts immediately turned to the start of this long trip overseas. Back to Hamilton Island and our eventual flight cancellation. A bit of drama ensured that day and I did not want a repeat. It was an anxious wait. We did the best thing we could. Took ourselves off for a cold beer.

Later in the day, I was killing time by reading a couple of chapters of my book. Not really paying attention to the muffled announcement. The subsequent round of applause brought me back into the present. I looked at Mrs C expectantly. 

“We are flying to Crete and boarding immediately,” she said. 

A wave of relief flooded over me as we boarded and took our seats, albeit a few hours later than planned. We would be going to Crete today. With the long delay I very much doubted our pre-booked transfer from the airport to the hotel would still be waiting. 

Chaotic Crete

Heraklion airport on Crete was chaotic. Pure bedlam. Greek airports are not the best. Often old and lacking the right infrastructure for the number of visitors they get. The baggage reclaim hall was a mass of people. A mass. People everywhere. We couldn’t work out where the luggage carousels were such were the numbers of people crammed in. 

I had a creeping sense this was not to be our day. When we worked out where our bags should arrive I heard some Americans nearby say that they had already received a text from the airline. Their bags would not be joining them today. Off they traipsed to the lost luggage desk. Joining a very long, and lengthening queue. Oh great, I ruminated, that’s bound to be us, too. 

Except it wasn’t. And things kept going our way. Collecting our bags and forcing our way through the crowds to leave the airport I kept scanning all the handwritten signs for our names. Nothing. We exited on to the street. In pools of water and streets now turning to a morass of mud. The storm had really hit. Our bags quickly became wet, and were getting caked in mud. My spirits lifted when I caught sight of my name. Yes! Our driver was still here and waiting. I resolved to break my rule of not tipping. He definitely deserved a couple of quid. 

Now time to embrace the Greek lifestyle

So it was, late, dark, and still very wet, we made it to our hotel. We had decided to slow down a little and had booked a week in the town of Agios Nikolaos. A week we were really looking forward to. How much gyros could I eat in a week? And is there such a thing as too much lamb kleftico?

Greece really is food heaven

I only had a couple of gyros, but the one above might rank as the best I have ever had. Ever. It was huge. Stuffed with delicious meat. And was under 4 euros. If you find yourself in Agios Nikolaos, you must eat at Karnagio Pita. Unless you are a vegetarian. Hmm. Then I would recommend you stay well clear. We came back later in the week and had the gyros plate. Oh. My. Word.

Local tavernas

If anything makes a Greece holiday authentic for us, it is the unassuming, simple, Greek taverna. And in Agios Nikolaos we were spoiled for choice. We were on the island quite late in the season and it was obvious that tourist numbers were down. Thankfully, we had enough local restaurants to work through our Greek “wish list”. We had lots of halloumi. And when I could convince Victoria that we needed a change, saganaki was next up.

Two of the tavernas we chose did lamb kleftiko, another absolute favourite. A local tradition that we enjoyed on Crete, and did not see again whilst island hopping in Greece, is the bringing out of a free dessert, and a small bottle of raki to share. The Greeks are very partial to raki, and for those of you not familiar with it, just imagine drinking pure alcohol. This is how it feels. But, as the waiter drinks with you, you really feel a need to imbibe. Yamas!

Time to move on

As our first week in Greece drew to a close, the waistline on my jeans felt noticeably tighter. We are managing to do a lot of walking still, but Greek food is not conducive to moderation. At least, not for me. So, I am a few pounds heavier, and happy for it. We are leaving Crete by boat today, headed to Santorini. I have already been researching where I can get my next lamb kleftiko. And if need be, a new pair of pants.

Docking in Dubrovnik

We docked in Dubrovnik and left the boat, arriving in a throng of taxi drivers. Not knowing where we were going, but knowing we couldn’t afford luxuries such as taxi cabs, we marched out of the dock and along the main road. My hypothesis was that we would find a bus stop. Eventually. 

Why all the Game of Thrones merchandise

And we did. A short while later we were paying the 15 Kuna each for the ride to the Old Town. Stopping at Pile Gate, the entrance, we dug out the directions for our accommodation. Dominus Little Palace. As we negotiated the cobbled streets of the Old Town I couldn’t help noticing all the shops selling Game of Thrones merchandise. I wondered what it was all about. 

Dubrovnik has steps. Many of them. Over 5000 in the Old Town alone according to the receptionist at the hotel. We had just lugged our bags up almost a hundred of them to reach our room. Never did that first cold beer taste so good. 

Dubrovnik old town is a fortified town. And indeed it does resemble Korčula in its layout and how they both cling to the water. The fortified walls that encircle the old town are some of the best preserved in the world. The 250 kuna to climb, and walk the walls, is expensive, but we soon realised that everything is expensive in Dubrovnik. And so we found ourselves taking in the best views of the city.

Croatia and the cost of living

When looking at where we might travel when we left Australia, we envisaged that whilst Europe would undoubtably be expensive, we thought costs would drop significantly when we reached certain countries.  Croatia was one of these countries. And, boy, were we wrong. When we first arrived from Barcelona, into Split, we immediately saw our cost of living rise. When I say “cost of living”, the benchmark we have is, how much is a beer or wine. And how much is a main course for dinner. This tells us whether it will be a “one glass of wine night”, or two.

Beer with a view

There are some great places to grab that wine, or beer, whilst in Dubrovnik, and none more stunning than Bard Mala Buza. Reached through an unmarked door in the city walls, you descend down stone steps, literally on the edge of the water. The views are stunning. And the price of drinks eye watering. But, this is one experinece that you must have whilst in Dubrovnik. You will forget the price long before you forget the memory.

The Walk of Shame

Strolling around the old town, and being within earshot of the many, many tour guides, we soon discovered what all the fuss with Game of Thrones was about. And if you are a fan, you will already know. If you are like us, and not seen the TV show, it turns out that much of it was filmed right here, in Dubrovnik. This explained why the staircase we tried to get a picture of was so popular. Something to do with a walk of shame.

The steps of Dubrovnik

If you need to walk, Dubrovnik is your place. From a flat centre, the “fish bone” spikes off into the alleyways, each a steep set of stairs. This has the effect of the town being on multiple levels. Up a flight of stairs, you find a new set of streets, lined with shops and restaurants. By the end of three days the 5000 steps seemed a stroll in the park to the step count we had accumulated.

Dubrovnik Beer Company

All this exercise is a great excuse for a beer. And a reason to leave the old town for a bit, showing that there is more to Dubrovnik than the tourist filled centre. We walked the 40 minutes back towards the port where we had arrived a couple of days earlier. Our destination was the Dubrovnik Beer Company, an unassuming brewery crafting some great beers. Yes, we paid way more than we would for the local beers we had happily been drinking, but it was great to try a couple of real craft beers. And they were good, especially the pale ale. We did think about getting food but alas, the BBQ truck wasn’t open.

Crossing the border into Montenegro

A short drive down the coast from Croatia and you are in the country of Montenegro, a place we had never visited. So we took the opportunity of a day trip, starting out from Dubrovnik at 6.30am and crossing the border, visiting both Kotor and Budva, in Montenegro. I am always up to add a new country to my list, I just wish the formalities at the border didn’t take quite so long. 

You have to cross two borders, with two kilometers of no mans land in between. By design. Leaving Croatia, the customs officer wanted to see the passport of every single passenger on the bus. Long and laborious. Two kilometers down the road, the Montenegran officer just needed a list of the passengers. Common sense.

Montenegro and the Euro

Once we had our passports stamped, on the way in, we stopped for coffee and the chance to get some money. In a quirk that is hard to explain, whilst Montenegro is not in the EU, the national currency is the Euro. Back in 1999 the local currency became so devalued that the government started accepting the German Mark. And in 2002 this changed again when people started accepting the Euro. Whilst never really being offically adopted, it has become the national currency.

Perast

Caffeinated, and with cash, we continued our drive along to the little town of Perast. A drive that was nothing short of spectacular. The road winds through a large bay, encircled by mountains on all sides. In Perast we got up even closer to the scenery, taking a short boat trip to the Our Lady of the Rocks island. 

Cats in Kotor

Back on the bus, our next stop was in the old town of Kotor. Not as large, or as visually appealing as Dubrovnik, but impressive all the same. The first thing you notice, walking around the old town is the number of cats. Dozens and dozens of them. The reason, apparently, is that there was a plague of rats in the 15th century and cats came to the rescue. They have been revered ever since. Never have I seen so many cat influenced souvenirs.

With the Russians in Budva

We avoided the cats and had a beer and a snack, planning to get some lunch at our last stop of the day, Budva. However, Budva disappointed. Driving in it looked like a concrete jungle. The tour guide explained that the town has been “developed” by Russians, who have built concrete hotel after concrete hotel. It really does spoil the look and feel of the town. Even the old town looked a little sorry for itself. After a wander through the streets, and along the sea, we still had time before the bus back to Dubrovnik. Beer time, then.

Pushing the Boat Out

The day flew by, and as we had feared, we once again got stuck at the Croatian border for almost an hour. Checking those passports again. As it was, we were still back in good time for a final dinner. At times on this trip, we have decided to treat ourselves. “Push the boat out”. Our final night in Croatia was one of these nights and we had a sensational dinner at Bota Sare Oyster and Sushi Bar. The wine was delicious and we toasted to a really good three weeks touring Croatia. A country that we have enjoyed and would highly recommend.

Goodbye Croatia

At the hotel, our alarm was set, and taxi booked to Dubrovnik airport for 6.30am. Time to head on to country number 12 since leaving Perth, and bed number 43. But, where will it be?

A Nervous Wait

So there we were, in the blazing sun, 30 minutes early for the bus back to Split. I had checked the bus ticket numerous times and verified where the bus stop was. Why did I feel so uneasy? It was probably due to the fact that this was the only bus today passing through Podgora, heading north. 

Nervously checking my watch I saw that it was 14.13, a minute before our scheduled bus service. As I glanced up I saw our bus. Relief turned to panic as the driver didn’t slow down, but wildly gesticulated something. But what? He certainly wasn’t stopping. Maybe the bus stop was further along the road and the driver was trying to tell me this. 

I chased after the bus, around the next bend in the road and glimpsed the bus heading off into the distance. Definitely not stopping. As my adrenaline subsided my emotions turned to anger and frustration. What are we supposed to do now?

So do we Have a Plan B?

Despondently, trudging back slowly to the bus stop, where Victoria still was, I wracked my brain. Had I got the right bus stop? Had the driver been distracted and going too fast to stop so he just ploughed on? Either way, we needed a new plan. And fast. We had a night booked in Split and a boat to Hvar tomorrow. 

With a creeping sense of deja vu we dragged our bags back the way we had only recently come from. Back to the hotel reception. They looked a little surprised to see us again and perhaps they wondered why we were checking back in so soon after leaving. Believe me, the food wasn’t quite that good.

Explaining the situation, our plan quickly took shape. A taxi from the hotel to the next big village, Makarska. From there, hopefully we could board a bus to Split. As the hotel called for a taxi I could feel my optimism rising. The rather exhorbitant taxi fee felt a small price to pay. As did the two hours sat in a desolate Makarska bus station, waiting for the next bus to Split. Perhaps we would be on that boat tomorrow. 

Back to Split

And we were. It felt good to spend another night in Split. Exploring the palace and having a great (second) final dinner in the city. We had booked a night in a simple, (read: no kettle), apartment, that was very central, and close to a laundrette. We would have clean underwear for the next part of our journey. As much as we enjoyed spending time in Split, we had places to be and at 11.30am the next day our boat pushed out of the harbour. Next stop, the island of Hvar. 

Hvar Island 

Hvar is one of the most well known of the Croatian islands. With a reputation as a party island. This wasn’t why we were going. It was October, the low season, and hopefully we would get to enjoy the beauty of the island without the rigmarole that comes with a place that is now “famous” on Instagram. 

We weren’t disappointed. Our 4 days on Hvar were fabulous. Staying in a great little apartment a short walk from the centre we had a great base to see much of the island. 

A day trip to the old town of Stari Grad (stari grad actually translates to old town), showed us a quieter side of Hvar. Narrow cobbled streets housing shops and restaurants. With few visitors, and much now closed for the season, it really felt as though time slowed down for the day.

Clothes Optional

Back in Hvar town the following day we jumped on a taxi boat and headed out to one of the only small islands still open, Jerolim. A tiny spot that reminded me of small islands in Thailand. Very reminiscent of what you may have seen in the movie, “The Beach”. Jumping off the boat and wandering through the trees we came to the beach. 

Yes, we had inadvertently (honest) come to a nudist beach for the day. A small inlet surrounded by ramshackle beach beds, we got comfy and tried our best to avert our eyes. There was naked flesh everywhere. Even a chap, who we later learned was from the very strict Dubai, stripped off and had his wife video him walking in and out of the sea, in his birthday suit. He must have felt very liberated. 

Culture Shock in Croatia 

Back on Hvar, and with everyone fully clothed, it was time for drinks. But first, we needed an ATM. Never in my life had I used cash machines so often. Especially in the last few years with many businesses in Australia going “cash free”. Not so in Croatia. It was rare to find places accepting card payments. We often had to check before ordering so we knew whether we had to find a cash machine before we could eat and drink. 

Another frustration was the proliferation of people.smoking inside. Yes. Inside. Like many places in Europe, smoking seems ubiquitous in Croatia. When I first spotted someone smoking in a cafe, as I strolled past, I did a double take. It look so incongruous. After many years of smoking inside being banned in the countries I had been living in. 

Exploring New Foods

That said, it is amazing what you get used to. And before long I had no trouble enjoying some of my new favourite foods. Burek for breakfast. And ćevapćići for lunch. Both delicious. And both filling. Travelling on a budget has a way of introducing you to local foods that ordinarily you may not try. 

As I finished my breakfast burek we headed to the port and our 10.10am boat to Korčula. Our island hopping continues with three nights on Korčula Island, often described as a mini Dubrovnik. Having not (yet) been to Dubrovnik we didn’t know what to expect. 

In keeping with our time in Croatia so far we know we will have good weather. Clear blue waters. And very good wine. Just as long as we can also find an ATM!

Korčula Island

We did find ATMs. Lots of them. We also found a beautiful island. Small. Pretty. And mercifully quiet of the hordes of tourists I expected. Cruise ships and boats do come into Korčula on a daily basis and come the evening the streets mostly clear and become an oasis. Walking along the city’s fortified walls, with a cool evening breeze, selecting a restaurant for dinner. 

Exploring the wine of Korčula 

Korčula is also renowned for its wine. In particular the Pôsip grape that makes very good white wine. We spent a day on a wine tour of the island, just four of us, visiting a number of very rural, and basic, cellar doors. The wine was a better quality than the wineries. That said, service was good and we had a very enjoyable day. 

Korčula old town is built in the fashion of a “fish bone” allowing for the winds to be redirected through the town. Dubrovnik is built on the same design as were to find out a few days later. 

It was in Korčula that I reignited my love affair with the ćevapćići. A meat lovers heaven. The number of sausages determined by whether you get small or large, the resulting sandwich keeps you full for the rest of the day. 

We really enjoyed our time on Korčula and would highly recommend it for a visit. As with all of Croatia there are heaps of accommodation options. Again, we booked a private apartment, being met by the owner Felip at the port with a “Victoria Harper” sign. He walked with us the short distance to what turned out to be an excellent apartment. With our own little courtyard for afternoon glasses of Posip. 

It wasn’t just wine we enjoyed in the courtyard. All travellers will know that your best friend, when it comes to a travelling budget, is the humble picnic. And many times we self catered, stocking up on bread, meats, cheeses, and more importantly, beer or wine. And as frugal as we are, or maybe it is how we have been brought up, we can’t throw anything away. In Korcula, this resulted in Victoria having a sandwich the size of a small football. Yes, for those of you wondering, she did finish it.

Back to the boat, Dubrovnik bound

Checking out, we had a final look around the apartment. Some of the places we stay I can’t wait to see the back of. This place, I could have happily stayed in. Perhaps getting a job selling ćevapćići. However, a rolling stone gathers no moss, and we had a boat to catch. We were leaving “mini Dubrovnik, and heading for the real thing.

After our jaunt across Spain, and up through Portugal, we were finally headed across the Adriatic sea and on to the Dalmatian coast. We had read, and heard, so much about the place that we decided it was time to see what all the fuss was about.

Adios, Spain, hello, Croatia

Our 6.30am flight from Barcelona landed in Split and we were on Croatian soil. It didn’t take long to see first hand what people mean when they talk about Balkan “customer service”.

As many people boarded the airport shuttle bus they attempted to pay the driver with Euros. A big mistake. The driver yelled at the naive travellers, throwing the euro notes down in apparent disgust, “Kuna! We are in Croatia. We have the kuna, not euro.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that we had the foresight to withdraw some of the beloved kuna in the airport, as we passed through to collect our bags. It was quite amusing to see so many people have the temerity to try and pay the exasperated driver in a currency that will not become fully accepted in Croatia until January 2023. This is when Croatia finally switches over, formally, to the euro as the national currency. Until then, my advice, get your kunas before trying to board a bus in Croatia.

Transport Troubles

Waiting for transport becomes a habit whilst travelling. Waiting longer than you would expect at home becomes second nature. So, stood in the early morning sunshine, outside Spilt airport, for an airport shuttle bus that had no timetable, was to be expected.

When it did finally arrive, there was a huge queue to get on. And as we see the world over, queuing does not seem to be a thing outside of England. People rock up, and trundle their cases past the long line of people obviously waiting for the same bus they intend to get. In fact, the only bus that all of us are getting on. The first few times it happens, we stay polite. And then we learn. When the bus opens its doors, we charge ahead, with the crowd. Arms and elbows everywhere, ensuring that we get on. And get seats together.

Sweet Dreams in Split

All aboard, our drive from the airport to Split city centre was short, and some 30 minutes later we were dragging our bags past the bus station cafes, luggage storage offices, and up a slight incline towards our accommodation for the next three nights. “Sweet Dreams” apartment. Since leaving home in Perth, this was to be bed number 36, in country number 10.

What we soon discovered in all of our travels through Croatia was that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of privately owned accommodation options. From simple rooms (Sobe), to apartments with all mod cons. We even struck gold on occasion, having our own kettle and a small fridge. There were times when the kettle was communal, in the hallway, serving a number of apartments., It became a trick to listen for when the kettle had boiled and someone had their morning brew. After a couple of minutes of silence I knew the coast was clear to go and make my first coffee of the day.

Sweet Dreams apartment in Split was one of the “posh” ones. We had our own kettle. Happy days. And like all the apartments we stayed in, it was more than adequate for our needs. I wouldn’t say we were “doing it in style”, but we had everything we needed. Clean sheets. Comfortable bed. Hot shower. We were well set up for the next three nights, exploring the wonderful city of Split.

Exploring the Diocletian Palace in Split

Split is the second largest city in Croatia and dates back to the 3rd century BC and is now famous for the Roman palace built in 305AD for the emperor Diocletian. The palace has been rebuilt over the years and is now a sight to behold. Dominating the riverfront in Split, you can spend hours losing yourself in the labyrinth of narrow streets and alleys of the palace. Around every corner you will find a restaurant or bar, allowing you respite from the hordes of cruise ship passengers that get disgorged onto the streets of Split every day.

A stroll along the “riva”, or riverfront, allows you to grasp the size and scale of Diocletian’s Palace. And the setting is jaw dropping. With the sun reflecting back off the white stone, contrasting against perfectly blue skies, with the impressive mountain range behind. 

Split is the perfect size to spend two or three days exploring, which is exactly what we did. It is a place that I would highly recommend, and when you are ready to move on, the port is on your doorstep, with ferries to the nearby islands.

Down the coast to Podgora

For us, the boats would be for another day. For today, the well served bus station, across the road from the port was where we were off to. We were headed south, by bus. Wanting to see as many sides of Croatia as we could, our next week was to be spent in a small village one and half hours south of Split. Podgora was somewhere we had discovered when researching “mini holiday” options in Croatia. For the next week we would be based at the Medora Family Hotel.

Thankfully, with it being towards the end of the season, there weren’t too many families. At least families with small people that make lots of noise. We had a great hotel in a small, quiet village that seemed very popular with Germans. Chatting with Vladomir, the hotel entertainment manager, we discovered that Croatia is the number one destination for holidaying Germans.

With great weather for most of the week, we spent our days with long morning strolls along the sea, followed by lazy days on the sun loungers. Victoria even managed a dip in the sea. The village still had enough beach bars open for our late afternoon beers, before dinner in the hotel. Our deal was half board, and whilst we didn’t go hungry that week, we didn’t get to taste the best of what Croatia has to offer on the dining scene, which is some excellent food. The self serve, drink as much as you want, wine definitely helped.

I will miss the gallons of wine that we consumed that week, but all good things come to an end. We bid our farewells to Vladomir, and the Germans, and were off with our bags again. Whilst most tourists had coaches organised to take them back to Split, we dragged our wheeled bags up to the local bus stop. At least, to where we thought the local bus stop was…

On reflection, I feel that we could have maybe stayed in Portugal a little longer. As with all of this year of adventure, we don’t really know what our plans are one week to the next. And so it was with Portugal.  We did debate starting our Portuguese trip in the Algarve, and thought better of it. Travelling up from Lisbon to Porto, I had looked at Coimbra as a place to visit. It appealed. Yet, we bypassed it.

There was one country we knew we wouldn’t bypass. A country that was up near the top of our “must visit” list when we left home in Perth back in June. And perhaps we fixated on this a little too much and overlooked other towns in Portugal that we could have visited. 

That said, getting to Croatia was easier said than done. Our only route in from Porto was to have a hop in Barcelona. So, that’s what we did. Flying in to Josep Tarradellas Barcelona–El Prat Airport, we had two nights in Catalonia before heading across the Adriatic. 

Barcelona bound

Barcelona is a city I’ve visited a couple of times previously. And had great memories. Who can forget THAT night in May 1999?

“Football, bloody hell.”

This time, dare I say it, it didn’t impress as much as I’d hoped. With the benefit of reflection in the intervening couple of weeks, I’m now wondering whether this is because we had already travelled through Spain, and we had seen some beautiful towns and cities?  Compared with the orange tree lined streets of Seville, Las Ramblas just looked, well, decidedly shabby.

Travel choices

Either way, we played the tourist for a couple of days before our alarm clock woke us at 3.10am for our taxi to the airport. Travelling on a budget sharpens the senses and given a choice between a 6am flight out of the country that is a few hundred dollars cheaper than the one that flies at a more convenient time, the choice is simple. 

And so, we found ourselves, a little bleary eyed, on the early Vueling flight from Barcelona to Split. We were finally headed to Croatia. 

On departure from Barcelona, we had a plan to “get around” the 90/180 days in the Schengen region*. You see, we were leaving the EU to enter Croatia. To avoid giving away how many of our 90 days we had used up in the EU we would switch to our UK passport. 

Alas, we were foiled. The immigration officer at Barcelona looked confused as he flipped through the pages of our passport. Obviously looking for the tell-tale entry stamp, which would allow him to check we hadn’t over stayed our welcome. 

The thing was, there was no entry stamp. It was sitting in our Australian passports. 

“You have another passport?”, he barked. 

Sheepishly, we dug out our Australian passports, and he found our entry details, before heavily stamping our departure. We had used up 44 of our allocated 90 days in the 180 day period. 46 remain and thankfully Croatia is not classed in the EU, so the clock stops ticking.

For now. 

*90/180 Day Rule

As a traveller, you are permitted to travel through the EU for 90 days in a continuous 180 day period. Three months from six. For every day you are in a Schengen country, you use a day of your allowance. Once up to 90 days, you then have to leave and can not return until another 90 days have elapsed.

We got up to 44 days before we “stopped the clock” heading into Croatia. When we next re-enter a country in the Schengen region, our clock starts again and we have the remaining 46 days to use before we need to leave again.

Simple, eh?

Up next

What we hope will be a lot simpler is Croatia. Our plan is to bob around, island hopping for a few weeks, soaking up the late summer/autumn sun. Keep an eye out for the next instalment.