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Exploring the East Coast of Tasmania

Launceston was over way too soon. I had found a city that I felt a connection with. So much historic and interesting architecture, natural beauty, and food to keep me happy for a very long time. The Tamar Valley alone could fill our weekends for a whole year. Did I mention there is also a very good whisky distillery? What I hadn’t known at the time, but found out since is that Launceston is also home to a tram. Despite the last official line closing in 1952, there is still a tram you can board for short tours, courtesy of the Launceston Tramway Museum, set up to keep the history alive from the days when trams criss crossed this beautiful city.

We were travelling a little further than a tram could take us today, heading east of Launceston to our next destination of Bicheno. Taking the scenic route, is there any alternative whilst travelling in Tasmania, and going via the Bay of Fires. We packed up the backpacks, loaded the bullet, and bid a fond farewell to the Red Feather Inn. Somewhere we would definitely return to.

Today was about arriving, rather than returning, and we were headed for Bicheno (pronounced Bish-u-No), on the east coast. As luck would have it, our visit to the east coast of Tasmania was coinciding with the Great Eastern Wine Week. Who knew? What started out as a long weekend to celebrate the wine growers of the region became so popular that there is a whole week dedicated to it. And, as you may have heard, we have always enjoyed celebrating wine.

Lunch stop in St Helens

Before wine there is coffee and I had my second of the day with a good eggs and bacon lunch at the Life Buoy café in St Helens, a small village just a few kilometres shy of Binalong Bay. Binalong Bay is the heart of the “Bay of Fires”, the area so called for the fires of the Aboriginals that were spotted from the passing ships of early European explorers. We called in at Binalong Bay for the views. Dramatic wind swept coastal views right across the bay. And some excellent beaches too that would need a warner day than we had to fully enjoy.

Back in the car, and warm again, we drove an hour south, along the coast, to Bicheno, a small coastal town with a population of just over 800 people. I was immediately taken by how much this reminded me of some of the villages on the west coast of New Zealand. A friendly feel as soon as you arrived. Taking a walk later in the day, the dark clouds drew in and brought the rain. Perfect fish and chips weather. Although, I have used that excuse on a glorious sunny day in summer too!

Where to get fish and chips in Bicheno

When it comes to fish and chips you have two options right on the coast in Bicheno. The Lobster Shack and the rather more rustic (scruffy) looking Tasmanian Coastal Seafoods. We chose the latter and Mrs C’s face was a picture when we ordered at the front counter. The small space looked like a dilapidated kitchen and there were more dead flies in the counter then there were fish.

However, we had read the reviews, trusted our instincts, ordered the food, and bought a couple of beers to while away the 30 minute wait. Yes, they were busy, despite the decor. I think the waiting room was actually the indoor restaurant area. In the cold wet evening it looked derelict but for the other patrons hunched over in their padded jackets and woolly hats.

Some 40 minutes later our takeaway arrived and we were back in the car, driving through the rain, the short drive back to the apartment. And the verdict? Very good fish and chips. Not quite the quality of Blakeley’s in Brighouse, but this is Australia. When it comes to fish and chips you have to lower your standards a little.

Time to sample the Great Eastern Wine Week

As the sun shone brightly on our second day in Bicheno we drove out to visit a couple of vineyards to celebrate Great Eastern Wine Week. First up, Devil’s Corner, in the midst of a large renovation that will bring a large new restaurant, outdoor seating area and enhanced cellar door experience. For now we opted for a flight of 3 wines to sample in the makeshift tent, doing a great job shielding us from the cold wind whipping off the sea.

Craigie Knowe vineyard, a little further along the road, had a ticketed event and we (Mrs C) had the foresight to get tickets. There was a live band, food truck, pop up patisserie, local beer stall, and all the Craigie Knowe wines to sample. This time we simply opted for a glass each. We picked up a chocolate éclair and a cheesecake (small, obviously), standing in the sun listening to the music. 

There was a great turnout and I am always pleased to see small local businesses doing well in a time when 70% of their tourism has dropped off. These tourists come from the state of Victoria, of which Melbourne is the state capital. They are currently doing it very tough in COVID and are unable to travel outside the state. I am sure West Australians alone are not making up the difference in tourist numbers to Tasmania but we are doing all we can to help.

Bicheno Beams

The small town of Bicheno was doing well in attracting people despite it being the end of winter and the fact there is a pandemic. And winter here in Tasmania is cold. Despite the cold, each night the locals put on a laser and music show at 6.45pm. This evening there was also a sausage sizzle in aid of the local kids raising funds to build a skate park. We bypassed the sausage sizzle and picked up a couple of pizzas whilst walking home from the laser show. Slowly sipping tonight’s choice of Tasmanian whisky nightcap I was left to reflect on another great day, sadly a day closer to the end of the trip.

Time for Triabunna

Our last night in Tasmania was to be spent in Triabunna, small coastal town with a population of 874. Our accommodation was a tiny renovated cottage on an old orchard, Rostrevor. A book in the cottage provided a fascinating potted history of the orchard and the people who worked there over the years.

From what I had read about Triabunna there were two things worth doing. One was get the boat over to Maria Island, for which we had no time, and the other was to visit the Fish Van. I kid you not. The Fish Van is fast becoming a tourist attraction in its own right. Whilst having a whisky and gin tasting at the excellent Spring Bay distillery, it was recommended to us for dinner. It seems we were having our second fish and chips of the holiday.

Now, let me manage your expectations. This really is a van. Selling fish. And chips. So, this is what we had for dinner. And were they as good as the ones in Bicheno? Well, the fish was bigger. This always gets extra marks from me. The chips were similar. Typical Aussie chips. More like French fries than what I get served up in the UK. All up, a very good dinner, for $12 each, which was a lot cheaper than the ones a couple of nights ago.

Dinner finished, we spent the rest of the evening keeping warm in the cottage, finishing the bottle of Pinot Gris that we had started with dinner. My nightcap, the final one of the trip, was from Fannys Bay, back up on the North East coast. I added a couple of drops of water to bring out the flavour. This was one of the nicest whiskies I had had. And I had a few. Not peaty, yet I could taste something coming through. Maybe a hint of smoke. I just wish I had bought a bigger bottle.

The Final Day of the Tasmanian Road Trip

Thankful this morning that I hadn’t drunk a whole bottle of whisky, we had breakfast in the cottage. Simple vegemite on toast and a couple of strong coffees before hitting the road again. We opted for a light breakfast knowing that we had lunch booked for 12pm at Frogmore Creek Estate on the outskirts of Hobart. We broke up the journey in Sorrel with a coffee at the excellent Uncle Alby’s. Only open for the last 6 months, the barista told me they had built up quite a local clientele. Thankfully, the lack of interstate tourists wasn’t hitting them too hard. With coffee this good, I sense a good future for this little local business. 

Lunch was a little more grand. Sat in the restaurant at Frogmore Creek, over looking the vines, with the sun hitting the windows, we were served with some delicious food. We shared a portion of the scallops and then shared a couple of main dishes, splitting the beautiful pork belly and lamb back strap between us. A glass of Cabernet Sauvignon finished things off perfectly.

And back to Hobart

Then, the holiday was finished off. We dropped the bullet back off at Bargain Rentals with Amit refusing to check the car over and telling Mrs C that he would “be in touch if there was anything wrong”. He was dealing with the wrong woman, people. She told him, in no uncertain terms that there was nothing wrong and that she did NOT expect to be hearing from him. I hid outside, minding the bags.

A pint in the Customs House pub on the the waterfront, killed a little time before jumping in an Uber to the airport. We managed a short visit to the business class lounge (it only opens 1 hour ahead of your flight departing), and then we were on our way home. With a time difference of -2 hours in Perth, we landed at 10.30pm And tomorrow? Back to work and a check of the calendar for when we can next get away.

Have you tried floating yet?

And then it went dark. And I mean very dark. Pitch black. Never could I remember it being quite this dark. Even in the remotest parts of Australia, there is the moon. And the stars. Planes flickering across the skies. Satellites. Now, nothing. Then the soft, soothing music stopped. 

Is this the loudest I have ever heard silence? What does silence sound like? It is not often we get the chance to experience it this purely. We go about our lives bombarded by a cacophony of sound. Whether we realise it or not. When all this disappears, it can be deafening. All I could do was embrace it. I was going to be here for some time.

Floating at the Swan Valley Retreat

I was staying at the Swan Valley Retreat, 30 minutes from the Perth CBD, and finally got to “float”. Having read numerous reports about the benefits of floating, I figured it was time to get undressed, and try it for myself.

A float tank, sometimes called a sensory deprivation tank, is a large, sci-fi looking pod, filled with enough salt water, at a temperature perfectly matched to your body, to allow you to float and give your body the sensation of zero gravity. You climb inside, close the lid on top of you, and lie on your back, gently floating. For the first few minutes there is soft music to accompany you, and then nothing until one hour later when the soft music returns to signal your time is up.

Claustraphobia Whilst Floating?

It is a strange sensation. No sound. No light. Just you, floating, with your thoughts. It sounds a little bit daunting, doesn’t it? And I did find myself wondering how long I had been in there. Whether I should meditate. Or just breathe and be mindful.

“Your mind will run away with you”, I was advised, as I was being shown around. Just relax, and let it. Maybe my meditation practice will come in handy for the next 60 minutes.

Hopefully, mediatating may help me stop worrying whether I would get claustrophobic. I once had to make a hasty exit out of the tunnels of Cu Chi in Ho Chi Minh city, Vietnam. Would I be hastily looking for the lid of the float tank to let in some light?

Thankfully, I was not claustrophobic. I opened my eyes. Everything black. I closed them, same outcome. I let my eyes adjust to the dark, and well, it was just dark. All light is completely shut off.

As it turns out, I did meditate. And it did help. I also did some mindful breathing. I let my mind wander wherever it wanted to go. Always coming back to the breath. Then, I heard the music come back on. One hour has passed already? Couldn’t I stay in just a little longer? I was just getting comfortable.

I honestly felt a lot more relaxed, and chilled, even after just one float. I read afterwards that a 60 minute float is equivalent to a full nights sleep. I’m all in. Already I am wondering, when I can next float?

Heading in to France at Lille

I write this as I reflect on what has been a whirlwind few weeks. I am not sure where the time has gone since a) we left home in Perth, and b) since we left family and friends in the UK.

I had promised you that I would write and post shorter, more frequent blogs. My bad. In between exploring new cities, towns, and villages, I have not found time to sit down and compose my thoughts. A bit of downtime, a cold Kronenburg 1664, and a strong wifi connection has me once again sitting at the laptop.

Lille and the old town

We have spent our time since we last spoke, exploring the best of the wine regions, east of Paris. Leaving Belgium we entered France by train, disembarking in Lille at the Gare Lille Flandres. We weren’t in Lille for the wine, but for the culture. The old town is a delight and we had a couple of fabulous days exploring. Lille wasn’t on our radar when back in Australia planning this trip, so thank you Colin for the recommendation. 

It was in Lille that we had our first taste of steak in France. Ordering “saignant”, bloody, we both had the onglet, a speciality of the house. Steak cooked to perfection, with a mountain of frites. Paired with a local red wine, this was the perfect evening.

Talking of radars, we didn’t have much on when we left home in Perth back in mid June. As with the whole trip so far, we are making it up as we go along. As of the last count, since leaving home in Perth, we are up to country number seven. With our trusty guide book, and a sense of adventure, we look at places that may be good to visit, and move on. Leaving Lille, and looking at the map, the answer was obvious. 

Anyone for Champagne?

The Champagne region is famous for, well, champagne. As you will know, there are many pretenders, including Prosecco from Italy, and Cava from Spain, but there is only one champagne. A protected region, only sparkling wine made from grapes grown in Champagne can carry the prestigious moniker. 

Reims was our first port of call. The largest town in the Champagne region. With a population of 184,000 (ish) it keeps its small town feel. The streets surrounding the centre ville are clustered with champagne history. Not to mention the many champagne houses (read mansions) that line the streets. We passed Krug, Veuve Clicquot, and Louis Roederer on one short evening stroll.

It was in Reims that we had our first champagne tour. Booked into the 14.30 tour at GH Mumm. Walking into the air conditioned reception, who would have thought that there are 25kms of tunnels under our very feet?

The Caves of GH Mumm

It was into these tunnels, caves in official parlance, we all walked, following the very informative guide who walked us through the history of this illustrious champagne house. Set up by German brothers (hence the non-French sounding name) in 1827, GH Mumm now produces over 8 million bottles a year, and exports all around the world. The “cordon rouge”, red slash of colour is now recognisable in all corners of the globe. I know the world is round, but you know what I mean!

If you can’t spend all your time in champagne houses in Reims, then the next best place to be is the Notre Dame cathedral. Completed in the 14th century, “Our Lady of Reims” cathedral has to be seen to be believed. It is huge. Breathtakingly large. The scale of the place makes one wonder how clever people must have been, in the 14th century, to construct a place of such magnificence. What tools did they use? How did they get to such heights? How did they move such large pieces of stone? The mind boggles.

Epernay, Champagne Capital of the World

Maybe a glass of champagne will help? And after Reims, where do you head? You move to Epernay, of course. Only separated by 29 kilometres, Epernay truly is the capital of the Champagne region. Where else do you have a street called, “Avenue de Champagne”? Described by Sir Winston Churchill as the “most drinkable address in the whole world.” I wouldn’t disagree.

Strolling along the Avenue de Champagne you pass Perrier Jouet, Pol Roger, Moet and Chandon, Mercier, De Castellane, and many others. Champagne you may never have heard of. Produced and sold locally, but with all the quality of the big names you see in your local bars and restaurants. For our next tour of a champagne house, we were going classic.

Moet (pronounced with a hard “t’ as I am sure you all know) and Chandon has been in Epernay since 1743. Originally just Moet, under the control of a family of Dutch origin (hence the hard “t”) brothers, the Chandon was added in 1833 when a brother in law joined the company. A lot has happened in the intervening years and over the next hour and a half we got to hear about it, as we toured the rather chilly cellars.

Moet and Chandon alone has over 28 kilometres of underground tunnels beneath Epernay, surpassing even GH Mumm in Reims. Walking through them you get a sense of the scale of the operation. Cellar after cellar is stocked full of thousands of bottles of champagne. We even got to see some of the workers down there as it is a working production site. As with all good tours, this one ended with us getting to sample the goods. This time we got both a classic, and a rose champagne. Sante.

The Food of France

Drinking is half of the equation. Eating, is the other. And we have had some great food whilst crossing through France. Trying to eat the local dishes, I have had beef bourguignon, Flemish stew, and SO MANY baguettes. I also wanted to try the steak of the day in one town but Mrs C drew the line at me eating horse. Yes, cheval is still very popular in restaurants across France. Maybe I will order it when she isn’t looking. I am very intrigued.

Where next for us?

If you are following our journey through our daily Instagram photos (explore_with_fran), you will know that we are ahead of the blog. By a few towns and cities. For the rest of you, with no idea where we have been so far, watch out for the next update where we will discover amazing Dijon, be very pleasantly surprised by Lyon, and head into the south of France, discovering a little about Vincent Van Gogh.

A bientot!

Van Gogh and Provence

I wrote this as I lay and take in the views of the cypress trees nearby. The same cypress trees that so often inspired Vincent Van Gogh during his stay in 1889.

And when I say stay, his time in the south of France weren’t his happiest moments. After a period in Arles, where his mental health declined, he admitted himself to the nearby asylum, here in St Remy de Provence. You may remember that he cut his own ear off after an argument with his friend, Gaughin. 

In the year that he was in the asylum at St Remy he produced over 150 paintings. One of his most productive periods. And one of his last. Leaving St Remy in May of 1890, he had shot and killed himself in November of the same year.

Swapping the rails for the road

We were in much better spirits as we headed by train from Dijon, via Avignon to pick up a hire car, and into Provence. This part of France is not served well by train so car was our only option. A hefty chunk from our travel budget that almost brought tears to my eyes. Seeing we had a Fiat 500 cheered me up immensely. My second time in a Fiat 500, although my first time was in one of the original, tiny cars, as I drove us both around Florence.

Victoria took the wheel today and not long after leaving Avignon we were rolling into St Remy de Provence. With a population of under 10,000, St Remy sits in the northern Alpilles, in southern France. The birthplace of Nostrodamus, St Remy is also where Princess Caroline of Monaco lived for several years with her children following the death of her second husband.

It is immediately easy to see what would draw people here. A small town of narrow cobbled streets, the sun glancing between the buildings, lighting up small piazzas of people chatting and sipping the famous Provence rose wine. Despite being a place that attracts tourists, it somehow manages to keep its rather sleepy feeling. We sat in the shade of a large tree and ordered two cold drinks.

As we had the luxury of a car we chose to stay some 10 minutes from St Remy, opting for a bed and breakfast in a converted farmhouse. We were spending two nights in the very small village of Maillane. A village of three restaurants and one wine bar. Our bed and breakfast had a small swimming pool and with the temperature in Southern France increasing, it was a welcome relief to go for a cooling dip.

Baux-de-Provence

Having the car afforded us the luxury of being able to go and explore places. One such place was Baux-de-Provence. Somewhere I did not know about and was recommended by Chris at the bed and breakfast. Ten minutes drive, a rather precarious mountainous drive, had us in Baux. And straight away, it grabs you. The dramatic landscape, towering over the village.

With a permanent population of under 400, the tourists easily outnumbered the locals. And it is easy to see what draws the tourists in. A castle that appears to merge with the mountain that it climbs out of. And a village that dates back to the Iron Ages.

A reminder about how precious life is

Chatting with the owner of the B&B, Chris, was a reminder of why we were on this trip of a lifetime. Chris is originally from Belgium, and often spent his holidays down in this part of the world. Ten years ago he suffered a life threatening illness, and spent over a year in hospital. When recovering he realised he had spent his life trying to do too much and wanted to enjoy his life more. So he packed up, moved to southern France, and bought the farmhouse that he now runs as a B&B.

Anyone for Cassoulet?

Two nights of relaxation, and eating with the locals, we were on the move again. Another place neither of us had been to. And I am still not sure I had heard of Carcassonne until recently. For those of you more familiar with it you will know how beautiful the castle and the old fortified cité is. The medieval fortress dates back to Gallo-Roman times and was restored in 1853.

Both evenings in Carcassonne were spent exploring the old city and the castle, roaming amongst the ramparts and strolling the narrow alleyways. Looking for the regional dish I discovered the cassoulet. A dish of duck confit and Toulouse sausage. It is delicious, and very popular.

I am a bit of a geek when it comes to the Camino de Santiago, and one day I know I will do a pilgrimage of my own. I was thrilled to learn that one of the routes to Santiago de Compostela, where all the walks conclude in the cathedral there, actually starts right here, in Carcassonne.

Another capital of wine?

But today, I wasn’t walking. We were dropping the Fiat 500 at Carcassonne train station, and we were destined for the wine capital of France, Bordeaux. Has anybody spotted a theme of our tour through France?

Bordeaux wines are known the world over. It was the Romans that introduced the first vines and Bordeaux has been synonymous with wine ever since. Wanting to promote French wine to the world, Napoleon III insisted on a classification at the 1855 Exposition Universelle de Paris. A classification that has remained in place since. Ranking the wines according to a chateau’s reputation, in order of “cru”, first through to fifth. 

Visiting the Medoc wine region

This, and many other interesting facts about the Bordeaux wine industry we learned on our wine tour to the Medoc region. A region that only produces red wine, we spent a half day exploring both the Château Marquis de Terme and Château Siran. The amount of rules and regulations that wine growers in Bordeaux need to adhere to are mind boggling. We learnt that vineyards are not allowed to irrigate the vines. With a dry summer like we have just had I do wonder how the vintage will turn out.

Falling in love with Bordeaux

Bordeaux is another of those cities that caught me completely by surprise. I fell in love with it. Such a beautiful river front, lined with grand mansions. Another city firmly on the Camino de Santiago. And a nightlife that seems to go for the whole day. Stumbling across square after square, all packed with people enjoying coffee, beer, wine, and plenty of great food. Our three days passed by so quick that I just wanted to press the pause button.

Time to say Au Revoir

However, in life, there is no pause button. We were heading out in the morning. And changing countries. Since leaving Australia, we now had country number eight in our sights. This would be the 28th new bed since we left Perth. I know. It is exhausting. But, I wouldn’t change a thing. 

We head to Spain tomorrow, and somewhere I have wanted to go long before I saw Anthony Bourdain visit. Without a car, or a train ticket, we were taking our first bus ride. Four hours and we will be in San Sebastian, in the Basque country is our next stop.

Au revoir, and hola!

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.

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?