Explore with Fran

Revisiting Italy

Whilst our time in Athens had been a pleasant surprise, with the vibrancy, and cheap cost of living, with Italy, we knew what we were getting. Long a favourite of ours, Italy is a country that we have previously explored at length. I will have blogged about it somewhere, I’m sure.

Heading out of Athens there was only one place to start. The Eternal City. Flying into Rome, and transferring to the Termini railway station I immediately felt a sense of calm. Rome is a city that I have explored many times and I never fail to tire of her beauty. Around every corner is something new to stop you in your tracks. Make you pause. And consider the history, and the people that have come before you.

Rome wasn’t visited in a day

Talking of people, Rome was busier than I have ever seen it. True, you may think this of everywhere you go, but this time it was very noticeable. One of my favourite places in Rome to quietly spend a little time is in the Pantheon. Stood in the middle of the vast structure, and staring up through the circular hole, to the sky. With each previous visit I have just wandered in, and around, and taken my time.

When we got there this time, there were long queues, snaking around and around, just like you see when you arrive at passport control in Manchester. No longer were we able to just stroll in and take a quiet moment. We had thought we were travelling in what used to be known as the “shoulder season”. Coupled with the cost of living crisis I keep reading about in the UK and European news, I hadn’t expected such huge numbers of tourists.

Experiencing life through a lens

Things were just as bad at the Trevi fountain. Always a popular spot, never have I been there when you physically struggle to even make your way from one side of the fountain to the other. And the rather sad thing was that most people weren’t even looking at the fountain. They were looking into their phone, on selfie mode, trying to get the perfect picture. Are the days gone where people can just visit somewhere and enjoy it for what it is? As we travel around the world, the great sights are becoming less like places of pilgrimage, and more like Disneyland. Sigh.

Yes, I realise the irony of having a selfie above the last paragraph 🙂

Give me carbonara, please!

One thing that lifts my spirits, when I visit Rome, is the thought of getting Roman carbonara. Around the world there are few dishes as ruined as the humble spaghetti carbonara. Bacon. Cream. What?! Talk about ways to spoil one of the world’s great dishes. But, here in Rome, I know I am getting what I expect. A dish made only of spaghetti, eggs, pecorino romano, guincale, and black pepper. I am getting hungry even writing about it. I could eat pasta every day, and I could eat Roman carbonara twice a day.

Leaning into Pisa

For the sake of my waistline, we needed to move on from Rome after a couple of days. We were back to Termini train station, and heading for a 4 hour journey to Pisa, famous for perhaps the most photographed tower in history. And like everyone else, we did our best to keep it upstanding. Strolling through the Piazza dei Miracoli never have I seen such imaginative photos being taken. The tower being held up. Being pushed over. The tower coming out of ice cream cones. Out of backpacks. You name it, all day there is someone trying it.

Our accommodation in Pisa was only a 10 minute walk from the Leaning Tower of Pisa. A great bed and breakfast in an old building in the Santa Maria district of Pisa. Pisa itself is always associated with the tower, and less seen on photos are the buildings that share the Piazza with it. The Battista is stunning, as is the cathedral. But, people can’t seem to focus their lenses on anything but the famous leaning tower.

My focus was on a restaurant I had seen earlier in the day. Advertising itself as a Roman restaurant, specialising in carbonara, of all things. Guess where we went for dinner that night. And the menu was very simple. Spaghetti carbonara, or Carbonara Imperial, which is double egg and double guanciale. Very simple and very tasty. 

Cash preferred

When it came to paying it turned out there was a “problem with the card machine”, and would I mind paying cash? Without any cash on us, the waiter walked with me to where the nearest ATM was. On the way he was chatting, explaining the “tax is very high” in Italy and cash is better. Ah, I was now beginng to understand why the card machine wasn’t working. That said, the waiter was exteremly freindly, and only charged us 30 euros for dinner, knocking 3 euros off for the “inconvenience”. 

Far from inconvenient, train travel through Italy is fast, reliable, and very efficient. After a couple of days exploring Pisa, and more importantly, having a laundry day, we were setting off to Florence. A favourite city of ours (we could say that about much of Italy), we had a journey of less than an hour, bringing us into Santa Maria Novella train station. From there a short walk had us at our hotel in the city centre.

If it is Florence, it has to be Bistecca alla Fiorentina

If you have been to Florence you will understand why people flock to it every year. It has been 5 years since we were last here and these cities being what they are, centuries old, you soon get your bearings back. With the Duomo dominating the centre, and streets leading down to the River Arno, everything is accessible on foot. One of Mrs C’s favourite spots in the city is Piazza della Signoria, where she can marvel at the replica statue of David.

Last time we were here a recommendation from the AirBnB host had us having our first Bistecca alla Fiorentina at a local trattoria. And yes, we went back this time. Without a reservation, we were queued at the doors, ready for the 7pm opening. Easy we thought. Not so. We were told that the restaurant was full, unless we could eat, and finish within the hour. Absolutely, I said. I don’t feel Victoria was quite as enthusiastic, yet when the steak arrived, a smile crept onto her face. Just like the first time we visited, we were plied with limoncello at the end of the meal, even being “forced” to have one for the road with the staff.

Towering above Tuscany

One place that has been on our list for a long time, having missed the opportunity a few years ago, is the famed town of San Gimignano. Known for the many towers that loom over the Tuscan countryside, we were only a short train ride, and then a bus from San Gimignano so we made our way there.

Back in the 12th century, monied landowners would build towers to display how wealthy they were. It became a competition. A medieval “keeping up with the Jones”. Now, there are a lot fewer than the orignal 72 towers left yet San Gimignano remains a draw for the thousands of toursits that visit every year. We ambled through the old centre and had a great pasta lunch (not carbonara this time) with a glass of wine, keeping away from the biting wind as much as feeding our appetites.

Magnificent Milan

Our last stop in Italy was again to be somewhere we have spent time and thoroughly enjoy. Arriving into Central Station in Milan, I had one thing on my mind. Risotto Milanese. Each region in Italy is renowned for a certain cuisine, (did I mention carbonara in Rome?), and in the north, in Lombardy, risotto is king. Although, I wouldn’t get this dish until tomorrow, our last night in Italy.

The first day was all about re-exploring Milan. The hugely impressive Duomo. The exquisite Gallerie Emmanuel. The Castle Sforzi and the surrounding parks. The elegant cobbled streets of Brera. Meandering through Milan I couldn’t help but notice a distinct change in temperature. The colours in the parks were autumnal, but the temperatures were wintry. We were now having to dig out the few winter clothes we had packed back in June when we left Australia. I was very glad to have my woolly hat to keep the morning chill off my ears.

Our apartment was like the one in Athens, in that it was located in a large, nondescript looking residential apartment block. It was in a great location, just a 10 minute walk from the Duomo, and nearby there were a number of supermarkets, a traveller’s best friend. Each morning we were able to pick up a couple of pain au chocolats and a coffee, all for under 5 euros. A perfect way to start the day.

The day, and sadly, our trip through Italy, was coming to an end. We finished at a cosy restaurant not far from the hotel and the canals of Milan. I had Risotto Milanese with osso bucco and Victoria had the pan fried Risotto Milanese, a way of cooking this northern Italian dish that I hadn’t seen before. We toasted another great country and we looked ahead to what were sure to be, colder days in country number 14.

Arriving in Athens

Leaving Mykonos, and our island hopping adventure, we chose the fast boat to Athens. And by fast, I mean the one that only took us four hours to reach Piraeus, the port in the capital. As we sailed into the port, night had fallen, and we traipsed past over eager taxi drivers, and shuffled with our bags to the metro station. A short-ish 20 minutes walk away. It would have been quicker if it wasn’t for all the uneven pavements we had to drag our bags over.

In Athens we were to spend a couple of days staying between Monastriki and Plaka. A couple of trendly neighbourhoods. We had both previously been to Athens, each many years ago. Following the economic woes suffered by Greece, and the subsequent unrest, I had pictured Athens as being run down and rough around the edges. 

Our apartment in Athens

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Our apartment building matched my initial expectations. A building you probably wouldn’t want to go in, unless your room was on the 5th floor, as ours was. Yet, once up where our room was we were pleasantly surprised. A refurb on the floor resulted in a corridor of newly fitted out rooms, branded “Xclusive”. We had a shower and a coffee pod machine. All the mod cons. 

Walking out that first night, in the dark, we soon realised that we were in the middle of a very buzzy neighbourhood. Bars and restaurants spilling out into the streets. Shops selling tourist knick knacks. It was all very welcoming. We found a restaurant in the Plaka neighbourhood and as we sat down to our dinner, lamb kleftiko in front of me and Victoria pouring the 6 euro house wine from the carafe, we reflected how happy we were to have chosen to visit the Greek capital. 

The Acropolis of Athens

Well rested and after my morning coffee, it was time to plan the day. How else do you spend your first full day sightseeing in Athens? You head to the Acropolis, of course. En route we visited Hadrian’s library and the Temple of Hephaestus, before walking up the hill and joining the long queue for the tickets to enter the Acropolis. 

There is evidence dating back to 4BC that the hill the Acropolis sits on was inhabited. Not specific to Athens, an acropolis is a settlement atop Greek cities. The most well known building on the acropolis in Athens is the Parthenon. Visited by thousands of tourists every year I could only speculate on how many people, in history, had walked these paths before me. 

A last supper in Greece

And walk we did, from leaving the apartment in the morning, we covered much of Athens. Our step count was high, and I was tired. A late afternoon nap did wonders and soon we were back out for a cold beer and assessing dinner options. It was to be our last night in Athens, and our last night in Greece. I was determined to sign off with the dish of the Greek trip. Moussaka. 

Like the “cost of living” reports that compare like for like items across the world, to assess the price of living somewhere, moussaka had become one of ours. A quick scan at a menu, anywhere in Greece would quickly tell us if it was to be a one beer day, or two. I was very surprised to get to Athens and see how cheap it was compared to places like Mykonos and Santorini. A breath of fresh air, and great for the travel fund.

Greece had been amazing. Just as we knew it would be. Already big fans, having the opportunity to spend time on the islands cemented what we knew. Laid back. Great weather. Fabulous food. We know we will be back. But, for now, it was time to head to country number 13, and find bed number 47.

Calm my beating heart, we were headed to Rome. 

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.