Split to Taunton

Up with the dawn is better than 4am. Even our local bakery was open enabling one to pop out to gather fresh crussoints whilst the other continued to struggle with trying to squeeze our belongings into the crowded bags. These seem to getting more tightly packed each time we do it. Probably due to that fridge magnet. It was with regret we leave Croatia behind.

Whilst it is steeped in living history (which is mostly what the invading hordes come to consume) it also shows signs of being a modern urbanised progressive society. Whilst the memory of the homeland war is fresh in their souls they seem to be keener than most to accept differences and move forward. Lest we forget. Can't quite understand why influencial figures in the worlds leading nations don't see this. Just because you're in power doesn't stop you from being stupid one supposes. Split airport is everything those in the UK aren't: small, relaxed and efficient. Almost makes travel worthwhile. We had an empty seat next to us on the flight to Gatwick which made it pretty comfortable.

Flying over the Swiss Alps was quite spectacular. Another destination to put on the futures list. For the rest of the trip Europe was blanketed by clouds as thus we decended into to UK to see (yet again) the small green fields defined by a network of hedgerows. Gloomy and green. The sun was trying to get through. But not fooling anyone. Entry through Gatwick was seamless due to an apparent lack of concurrent arrivals which was pure luck. Brexit will easily fix this. Getting our wheels took quite a while but we were not stressed so all was good. Luckily it has a very effective navigation system which helped reduce previously experienced stress levels to zero. Our vehicles bright red colour seemed to glow under the light cast by the dull grey skies as we zoomed confidently along the motorways. It took 4 1/2 hours to get to Taunton with one brief coffee stop .

The weather slowly regressed to rain whilst we had a surprise flash past Stonehenge. Been there. Done that. Been ticked already but we did try to snap a view just to prove the point. It was great to catch up with Polly and Paul again and looking forward to spending a quiet couple of days in their company. Their new house in the new estate is very nicely appointed.

Not too sure about the lack of privacy in the back yard though. Surprisingly everyone knows each other quite well in this estate.

A day to the falls

Up earlier than we would've liked considering the state we were in didn't really seem as bad as it should have. Seemed to be the only people awake as we walked back into the palace looking for our tour group. Managed to find them just in time and delayed them by a minute waiting for some really bad takeaway coffee. The tour group walked back through the square of last night's revallry. All the spilt wine had been cleaned up. It was empty and quiet. No doubt patiently awaiting a new crowd. It's hard to imagine that every night they get such a highly charged group from downunder that took control as effectively as the night before. However we can only assume that the place has special qualities and magical things happen there all the time. Our small group tour bus looked fancy unfortunately the suspension was failing and the seats were more cramped than a Ryanair jet (which is really saying something). Our guide was quite witty and insightful. It was comforting that most of the items and highlights that he mentioned that Croatia has to offer we had already sampled over the last week. It took 3 hours drive to get to the Plitvice National Park. In doing so we passed into another region which is predominantly rural and as such doesn't have the luxury of the tourist dollars flowing in. Apart from the lakes of course. This is well set up to cater for 20,000 visitors a day. They can either be bussed from one end to the other, take a slow boat across key points and or do what we did and walk around. Closely followed by a snuffling gentleman who couriously looked and sounded like a pug we emerged from the bus immediately realising that once again we'd failed to do our homework. In this case it was the fact that this is a different climate.

Significantly colder. So whilst we'd bought swimming gear, everyone had bought warm clothing. 40,000 legs. 4 in shorts. Oh well. Being the tough downunderers we are we grinned and beared it. Hopefully no one noticed when the grins turned into grimaces.

The park has a very unusual geology where algy and calcium build up to create a series of natural walls which invariably create waterfalls. Lots of them. With crystal clear water lakes behind them. So what would normally be a valley with a river flowing at the base is now a significant tourist destination. To cater for the mass of humanity that need to capture every angle, perspective, light change, water colour shift, tree type and duck so they can either show the folks back home how clever their devices are or make them jealous about the fact that they are yet to join the touring juggernaut, they have constructed a network of interconnecting wooden pathways. At times these looked extremely dodgy however they did seem to hold up OK. Some were astutely placed to have the cascading torrents flow directly below the creaking planks. Needless to say, we took heaps of photos during a our 4 hour, 7 km hike around the main areas.

The trip back got very interesting as we stopped for lunch between 3 & 4. This meant that not only did the coughing in the seat close behind increase, the alcoholic restocked his beer supply, the snorting pug up front kept on regurgitating his phlem, someone else's goulash was boiling away and building pressure - creating a delightful aromatic effect though their escape valve. Then the seat in front of the blogger somehow found a recline button. Prompting a startled yell, and a sarcastic remark. As the seat was not put back, a war of attrition ensued with the recipient in the seat continuously being kneed in the back...for the next 2 hours. Some people are either just plain dumb, ignorant, rude, purposefully obnoxious or possibly all combined. On the bright side the blog got written during the journey. Even if it did take sore knees to achieve it. Just hope that coughing is not contagious as I'm sure obnoxiousness isn't. Back to the roof top den after sunset for packup (including bringing the washing in off the complicated series of pulleys), dinner of the lunch we purchased but didn't need (another lapse in research), wind down, blog construction and getting ready for the next leg of the journey.

Spilt in Split

Packing up our comfy cabin was quite sad in a way . It was also surreal to be getting updates of what was eventually the Tigers win. For the first time on this venture there was a pang of regret about being away from home. At least it is comforting to know that their diehard fans will be celebrating and finally having as much fun as we are. Leaving the luggage on the vessel for a couple of hours the four Musketeers headed off up the nearby hill to catch a view and a coffee. We also heard about seashell horn blowing from a local who told us about the tradition of doing this every morning to greet the sun.

It was very poignant which lost a bit of its magic when he strolled off down the hill with his wife on his arm and his loose pants heading southwards. After a stroll through the Jewish cemetery we headed back down to the boat collect our bags and say goodbye for the umpteenth time. It was bit difficult winding our way through the crowds around the palace fully loaded but we managed. As it happens we went past the fish market which is renowned for not having any flies due to the smell of sulphur in the air. According to the guides it's a "No Fly Zone" which is apparently absolutely hilarious to all the tourists. Regardless of how many times you hear it. Like the limestone pavements out the front, the line has been extremely well polished over the years. Didn't see a T-Shirt with it on but that is due to the fact T-shirts were not looked at here. Surprisingly it was not on fridge magnet. Give 'em time. Suspicions are running high about the sulphur story anyway as later on we were having travel intersection meeting drinks down at the harbour and the sewage smell was pretty nasty. So were the flies. The locals reckon that smell is sulphur. Given the flies the blogger reckons it's sewage. So we ticked off the fish market without even trying. Split is like that. A short wait for our accommodation and we were in. Really happy with this one as well. Self contained appartment. Top story so we have aspects to peer at. The architecture here is the same as Spain in that the windows are offset so people have privacy (sort of). After a few weeks of taking photos of people's laundry hanging outside for all to see we now get the chance to do the same. So whilst the girls went of shopping, the blogger played the role of a European house wife by doing the laundry and then putting out the smalls on display. There is an art to this. No accidents this time but it must happen. Surely motor cyclists have been thrown off course by a wayward thong being set free in high wind and wrapping around thier face. With sea legs the vertigo was a bit of a challenge being so far up. The sun was shining, the area is alive with the sound of laughter and music. We are surrounded by bars, popular burger joints, a plethora of restaurants, wine bars, supermarkets, bakeries. We really could stay here a week. Or a year. Pity it's only 2 nights.

As the second load was being hung out the new BFF's arrived below. Timing is the art of comedy (so they say). After a bit of cheek from up high they were let in and we then demolished the bottle we'd cunningly purchased a few days earlier on the excursion to Ston. And then we hit the town. Not quite sure it will ever be the same. We won't be - that's for sure. The previously mentioned smelly drinks with added flies was with a few of the boat crew who were heading their separate ways. Four stayed together and sweet talked their way into one of the really trendy restaurants which had great food, fun service, the inevitable red wines and slogans on the wall. Gotta love a slogan. Fave of the blogger was "Life is too short for self hatred and celery sticks". Probably more relevant though was "Every empty bottle is filled with stories" Possibly an omen of things to come. The burgers were great and the laughs many and thus in high spirits we wandered into town expecting nothing and quickly came across the main square called Peristil. Towering over is the imposing bell tower rapped in Roman ruins of columns, plinths, and one of 12 Sphinx - stolen from Egypt thousands of years ago. The emperor who built the palace in the first place used to parade himself to his minions every day here. There has been something on every night since. Without a doubt it holds a certain resonance in the human psyche. All that come and stay a while are captivated. Sometimes captured. We sat down on the comfy cushions lining the stone steps (which are obviously designed for sitting) perfectly positioned opposite the guitarist (amplified with microphone) and slowly but surely helped build up his audience. Groups would come in. We'd analyse and pounce - offering group photos. They'd order drinks and thus stay. Songs would be sung along to. Arms would be waved. Toddlers would be resoundingly appluaded for their efforts. Squeals of joy eruptting when the Irish couple from the cruise snuk up behind us. This stopped the entertainment in his tracks - one of many funny and interactive moments. We got people to get up and dance ( and then let have the floor to them selves).

So we didn't dominate, we just got everyone to participate. One guy, 3 gorgious gals and quite a bit of wine flowing. Even spilt. Spilt in Split...sounds like a title. Deciding that a wave would be a good idea didn't quite work however it did get everyones attention and as the song at the time was Imagine (thank you very much Mr Lennon) the girls started a stampede. They rushed in from every angle and formed a circle that expanded and filled the square and when the song finished they all came together in the middle for a huge group hug. People from all over the world. Come together as one. In the Peristil in Split. The positive vibe was palpable and the ancient stone work soaked up some more karma to resonate down through the ages.

The happiness continued for quite some time, we had people from Norway to South Africa thanking us for our contribution to the evening. Unfortunately we had to leave around midnight and we said a warm goodbye to our Kiwi lasses under the vacated (yet well lit) majestic North gate of the old palace. With Cooee's echoing throughout the old stonework the parties from down under parted.

Getting to split

For some strange reason we slept in a bit longer than we should have but still made it to breakfast in time. Feeling a little seedy from the previous nights festivities we berthed at port on the mainland called Omis. This place belonged to pirates at some point in time and they built some pretty clever fortifications.

The river enters the sea through a spectacular gap in the high cliffs. We all piled into a little noisy boat and wound our way up the river fighting strong cool winds, the river currents and hangovers. Slowly the river got shallower as the vegitation thickened. This was starting to look like the Amazon and feel like the never ending journey when we finally arrived at our destination. In the middle of nowhere is the last state owned restaurant. A relic of the communist era where it has seemingly been transformed into a place that can cater for hundreds of visitors all at the same time. It particularly seems to be able to cater for groups of visitors. It seems really coincidental that there were a lot of tourists there as well. The idea of the place is to let people sample local produce such as cheese, olives, ham and course - red wine. The timing of this excursion could've been better as the impact of comsuming wine in such a state for morning tea is not such a great idea. Soldiering on though we did our derndest and then had a look at the still working kitchens which use wood fired charcoal spread over concrete to create oven like environments for slow cooking methods such as those required to make bread.

The people doing the cooking looked as excited as the whole country would have been when under communist rule. Our OH&S folk at home would've had field day (maybe even a week). The cruise back down the river was much more pleasant. Tail winds, a helpful current and the effects of the red helping somewhat. Our schedule then took a hit due to a fuel tanker which was due to fill us up catching fire and thus the juice in the vessels tanks was as low as that in a significant number of the passengers. Therefore we saw a rare sight of the boat sitting beside an unattractive landing while a back up tanker eventually arrived. Pumped it full of juice (as did the aforementioned passengers by having a siesta) we shot away from the mainland over to the town of stonemasons. Pucisa is where they quarry and work the limestone which is used widely here and sometimes elsewhere, such as the Whitehouse in W.D.C. the've been using the stuff since Roman times so by now they're pretty good at it. Some went to have a look at the local school. But as the mine tour itself was cancelled due to late running' so we walked around town instead admiring all things built from stone (including WC signs), statues and the church. A quick impromptu dip in the town beach by the girls preceded our final cruise into the famous town of Split. The walking tour of the old palace was really insightful as our tour guide (who we knew quite well by now) grew up playing here as a kid before the homeland war and subsequent invasion of the tourist hordes. It is a real shame to see the locals who have been living here for many generations being squeezed out due to UNESCO heritage listing. Interesting that once they've left then the place could loose the listing as the culture has been squeezed out of it. Call someplace paradise - kiss it goodbye.

At least we'll still be able to take postcard type pictures when there is no culture left that hasn't been touristised. With our new BFF's we eventually found a restaurant with good wine, food and ambience. More laughs and good times although somewhat subdued to the exhaustive effort of the previous day So it was an early evening back to the port to sleep in our berths for the last time with all views blocked by abutting ships.

Dinner with the captain

Departure at 7:00 from Sibenik for a short stint along a fiord to the very small town of Skradin at which we saw the dock before being herded onto another boat to go to the Krka National Park.

There is history everywhere around these parts. Coatians are very proud of their famous ancestors and rightly so. In this case Tesla is the man. He invented AC electricity and came up with the idea of hydro power and this where they built the first plant. At the same time as Niagra apparently. The falls are spectacular and yet another very popular tourist trap. In this case it is indeed a trap as once you're in you have to wait for tourist boat to escape. The queues were extensive in getting back but it all flowed eventually. Not quite as fast as the water flowing away from the base of the falls where the blogger had a dip in after circumnavigating the park. The Agape Rose then took us back out through the fortressed channel and into the high seas where the party on deck got underway. This was pre-dinner pre's. Well maybe before that... seemed like a good idea at the time. We even managed to convince the Captain to stop for an ad-hoc swim. The currents were pretty strong around the boat, however the crew had no trouble dragging the castaways back with a bouy on rope.

We docked at the tiny town of Trogir and had a quick walking tour as the setting sun turned every aspect into a photographers delight and then had proper pre dinner drinks at a quiet alleyway burger joint. The tour guide had some difficulty in explaining why the church bells were ringing. Something to do with mice. It would take a lot of trained critters to make that much noise. Eventually we realised she meant mass. Lots more laughs and general gossip over the drinks.

The Captains dinner was a fine dining experience where the captain kept as all entertained for hours with hilarious and enthralling stories of his adventures on the seas over his long and illustrious career. Well that's what we expected. Instead he sat at one table and our tour guide had to translate everyword as he only speaks Croatian. Regardless we pressed on. Once the girls invaded the bar, things started to get a bit messy. And loud. Once the grappa started flowing the night quickly decended into chaos. Everyone had a good time. Some tried some boat hopping manouvers however the fun police stamped that out pretty quickly. So it was just up to us to try pole dancing and generally assuming our selves with the music blaring out across the quiet waters of the harbour. Glad I wasn't trying to sleep through it.

Where the Hvar we?

Once again the drum of the engines firing up heralded the beginning of the new day. In a short amount of time we were steaming out of port with a view of a beautiful large 3 mast old style crusier running next to us with the golden hills of the island behind them. This was the view out of our 3 large portholes and (possibly memorably) through the large window in the en-suite. There seems to be no hurry to stand up when the view is so enticing. We love our cabin. Feeling very lucky and somewhat spoilt. Even the berth at the end of the day has a view over the harbour instead of on the starboard side where they have to have the blinds closed due to people peering in whilst walking past on the dock.

It took a couple of hours to get to Hvar. The ship docked and threw us off and then went and lurked nearby whilst we did a walking tour of the town. Yet another interesting place with the obligatory fortress, cathedral, harbour and history as written in the architecture. The Venetians had a significant role to play here as did the local fishermen who have been very wealthy in those long forgotten times of conquest. Thus they had more fun and success than other downtrodden masses enjoying a bit of decapitation and heads of the hierarchy on pole waving parades. Where have all the good times gone?

Deciding to do a bit of dividing and conquering ourselves, the blogger went trekking up the hill whilst the non-blogger went shopping with her new BFF's. Dangerous stuff. The heights of the fortress up top were quite precarious whilst the potential impact of a significant fall on the account balance even more so. The fortress was very impressive. No idea of the history because of a general malaise when it comes to reading the pamphlet, however given the location, design and construction it's hard to imagine it ever falling to invading forces. It even had a really cool prison with 6 cells that would've been horrible to be locked in but did have nice views of the town far below. This place apparently turns into a bit of a chaotic and potentially dangerous party spot after hours so much to the annoyance of the ravers im the team we then got back on our boat and steamed away - for another great luncheon feast before a prolonged sesh on the deck (there was much excitement when dolphins were spotted swimming about the front of the craft) as we wound ourselves up for a swim in a secluded spot out of the strong wind but with a bit of sun left in the sky.

The captain then took us to the isolated town of Sibenik. This has a fantastic harbour entrance which is a long canyon between two peninsulas, making the place really easy to defend. As well as creating fabulous photo opportunities many centuries later. This town prides itself on the fact that locals founded it, not any of the typical Greeks, Romans, Ottomans, Venetians, French, German, Spanish, Portuguese...come to think of pretty much everyone has had their turn around these parts. Hopefully the Tourist Age will see a new golden era for all countries and the entire race in general. We can only hope. Doing out bit to help the cause we started of on walking tour of the old town and quietly slipped away halfway through when a decent wine bar was spotted. They did a really good job of letting all four of us taste and decide which bottle to purchase and then consume. By retracing the steps of the walk we found a recommended restaurant in which a very tasty salad of mussels, olives, potato, cherry tomatoes and other bits etc. was a great starter to some wonderful mains. The hilarity continued over yet another great red and an enthusiastic waiter who took as many shots as possible when holding the camera.

Heading off to bed after am appertifs of a local cheery liquor we had to leave the blinds and curtains open as the view across the harbour was simply awesome. It even had white swans cruising around - keeping guard as we sank into a blissful slumber.

Vistas of Vis

The throbbing engines of the vessel woke all inside early again.

This time though it wasn't as headachy as the day prior. The bad weather had definitely passed on and the old town of Korcula was resplendent in the early morning light as we slipped past on our way to more adventures. Whilst all on board were lamenting not seeing the town in dry conditions very few bothered to look out and see it painted in the yellow and golds as the blogger did. It was very pleasant to fall back into the comfort of the bed before eventually appearing in the mess hall later than most and suffering a choice selection as a result. We were heading to the remote island of Vis and the longest stretch of cruising for the entire week. 3 hours across a calm sea on crystal clear day. Even the plethora of jets in the sky seemed to vanish behind us. A warm breeze drifted over the bow as we sliced our way through the sapphire waters. It was very peaceful and relaxing watching the significantly high islands with all their intricacies of steep hillside agricultural techniques on full display. Needed binoculars to get the details. Forethought had this one covered.

After a self indulgent lie in down in the cabin we finally got to the island and dropped anchor in a remote little inlet and the inmates jumped in for a splash around in the warm waters squealing and laughing like school kids whilst the locals watched over us like teachers thankful they didn't have to behave so indignantly. Not a great deal to see underneath. Rocks, small fish and the deep dark unobtainable blue of the depths far below. Refreshed and thankful that even the non blogger could tick that one off we cruised into the port town of Vis for a poke around. This is yachty heaven. Here the well off come to slide around on the smooth seas in the consistent c warm breezes in middle of the day and then come and party in town until the wee small hours. The boats are all lined up with their afts butting the restaurant strip so they can sit on their crafts and practice their crafts of consumption, people watching and woof whistling the pretty maids as they sell their wares to the tourists, who's boats are all tied together at the other end of the quay. So whilst one refreshed the other hopped on a mountain bike and went up the nearby mountain with the aim of reaching the prominent ruins at the top. This was achieved - even though the steep rocky path had to be negotiated by carrying the bike in some spots. The views from the top were well worth it. Not just for the 360 panorama but also for the uniqueness of being there. Millions of people would see this from distance - very few will ever make it up here. The old fortress walls had no indication of how old they were but it was certainly significant. Seeing an even higher hill nearby with better looking tracks that was attempted as well to see if a different view of recent military establishments could be captured.

Nothing to see over the ridge as the tracks turned out to be driveways. It was still fascinating to see more old stone ruins, stone fences/ walkways running everywhere through the low scrub. No doubt mankind has been here for a long time. Spotting another fort lower down the bike managed the terrain back to smooth roads nicely. Fort George surprised by being a trendy bar. Having a time limit of one hour was a constraint which unfortumately inhibited consumption. So it was back on the wheels to fly back down the smooth tarmac into town in 5 minutes in time to watch the sunset from the back of the Rose. Good fun in a strange land.

Dinner out with a retired UK couple in a local seafood restaurant was sublime. Chargrilled Octopus and sordfish washed down by a superb local red. A nightcap back on board with the blinds drawn ( as you never know who is wandering around on the vessel next door) led to a perfect sleep after a perfect holiday type day.

Island hopping

The cabin was invaded by flashes of light in the middle of night. When peering out across the still waters to the islands of the Dalmatian coast in the distance the sky was alive. Lit up by dancing lightning bolts - a far off light show that was briefly exposing an eerie landscape of sea, islands, high cumulus clouds with powerful threads ripping through the sky. Each flash a different view, becoming an instant memory - and nothing more as the desire to try and capture it forever was beyond the ability of the viewer to perform. Just to make the effort to look out the port hole and observe it at all was significant given the previous evenings revallry. It did not bode well that those storms were over the islands we were heading towards next morning. And right on time at 5:00am the vessel shuddered to life.

The vibration of the powerful engines rippled through its solid infrastructure and thus awkwardly resonating into the aching heads of last night revellers. Leaving the port behind we headed west with the rising sun in our wake and the entire ecosphere charged with power, anticipation and possibilities. We were the first vessel into the port of Polema on the Island of Mljet, certainly not the last. Within an hour there were 9 large vessels all tied up next to each other. People on boat nine had to negotiate their way through the maze of 8 others just to get on solid land. It was controlled chaos later on when we were the first to want to leave. Before that though we had an island to explore. This place is well attuned to reaping the benefits of the tourist age. This was obvious by the amount of push bike hire places and the sheer volume of wheels available for rent. If they were all consumed at once the town would be a tangle of steel, rubber, hats, towels and cameras with no flowing movement and just the general hum of tourists saying how much fun they were having via their devices to distant recipients. Luckily for us this is off season and as such we were the first of only a few to mount the aluminium steeds and head of into the national Park. This was a fun exercise and possibly the only we'll get for the week. The lakes have an underlying green tinge which we spent the entire time trying to capture (via device of course), there is an old monastery on an island which we thankfully did not have to be forced to visit.

We were taking selfies across the serene waters towards it when a boatload arrived there completely disrupting the ambience. Happy to get on our bikes and treadle away from the obnoxious accents as they echoed across the still water. The place is a swimming paradise and we possibly missed a great opportunity to try it out the grey skies, coolish air and thoughts of good coffee stopped us from considering using our swimming gear that was in the basket. In hindsight we should've as we had the whole place pretty much to ourselves. After circumnavigating the lakes and getting back to port we effected some shopping and back on the boat headed off to the island of Korcula with storms chasing us in a race to get there. It was a tight finish. Just as we arrived the heavens opened up, lightning, immediate thunder and walls of water cascading down. Spectacular stuff.

This place is often the highlight of the tour. In this case we spent the whole time dodging rain, in and out of churches and doorways and eventually, wine bars and restaurants. It would be well worth visiting on a nice day. So we might come back even though there are no complaints from today. We had a very entertaining guided walking tour providing history, insights and useful tips. Another old town - well preserved with a history that goes back to the bronze age. Like everyone else they've been invaded, overrun, controlled by others, deceived, deprived and generally pissed off. They have two saving graces : one was an English commander in WW2 who ignored orders and didn't destroy the place and now tourism. I hope they can survive this invading horde as the old city walls seem pretty ineffective now. Having hooked up with some delightful kiwis there has been lots of laughs, consumption and most importantly good will flying around all over the place.

As the sun decided to leave this side of the orb there were positive signs the skies may clear tomorrow. Certainly won't be able to check in the middle of the night as we are sandwiched between other ships and the view out is of another vessels port hole.

Under way.. eventually

Waking up on board was equivalent to waking up off board. The only difference was knowing a vessel was surounding the bed ( as compared to a building). Still beside another boat which is beside another boat which is tied up to the dock. Not going anywhere. It was nice to be lying underneath fully extended doonas which we'd only come to the realisation that they were so half way through the night. Before that the half folded items were seen to be suitable for midgets and the was serious consideration for those greater than 5 1/2 feet in height. LOL. Keeping the blinds closed purely for protection of the wandering public and passing sailors we got ready for our first full day of incarceration and headed up to the mess where the offerings for breakfast were far beyond any slops that the ancient mariners would have had to endure whilst port bound in this harbour. It was actually really exciting when they fired up the engines, cast off and we headed down the harbour, alas it was only to release a vessel between us and the warf and as such we promptly returned to where we came from still lamenting the fact that we'd spent heaps just to sit on a boat and not actually go anywhere. True to the vibe so far we all now got off the boat and got on a bus. Headcounted and herded like the millions before us and undoubtedly the millions to follow we found ourselves caught up in the livestock like logistical machine which enables the tourist age.

Dubrovnik has been involved mankind's evolution almost all the way through. Our walking tour of the old town was insightful in that we learnt about its history, the good times and the bad.. Jews picked on seems to be a common theme in these parts, as does the rise and fall of Islam and then of Catholicism and before all that were the ancient Greeks and somewhere in there were the Romans (obviously - I mean ..where would we be without the Romans?). Now finally the age of enlightenment has come to pass at it with be known as the age of tourism. And tourists will conquer the world. And so for the fourth straight day in a row we found ourselves walking across the drawbridge, into the marshalling courtyard and finally being spat out into the old town like a couple of drops in a continuous flow from a nozzle feeding a jacuzzi. The only difference this time is we were well and truly part of the manipulated hordes. We've become what we've most dreaded all this time. We are controlled, counted, taxed for the privallege of being here and spending our hard earned and charged extra if you need to take a wee. On the bright side the seats on the coach are very comfortable. Cast adrift in the old town by our guide (as she happily dropped her high map holding hand, flashed one last cheeky grin and flicked her golden locks over her shoulder and disappeared into the swarming throngs) was no issue for we town weary yet locally astute folk. A relaxing cafe at stupendous prices and we local bussed it to the new port to catch up with our vessel that was now a significant way through the time and money spent (1/7th) and had not actually moved one iota. As we indulged in a delicious lunch (the chefs so far have produced great outcomes) the captain finally decided it was time to hit the high seas and vamoose. Just to run the whole Dubrovnik thing well and truly up our noses they headed down south ( instead of planned north) on the pretence of letting us take photos of the fortress from the water

This was appreciated. We got to traverse the waters we'd been overlooking for the the last few days, saw our "beach" and got attacked by a Pirate ship. Well they fired a very loud round at as us which prompted a very loud "Bloody Pirates !" to be returned across the exceedingly calm waters in an Aussie accent. Highseas highjinks aside the wiley old sea dog spun the wheel around and we headed northwards finally in cruise mode. The sun was streaming down and the sea was a shimmering turquoise fading off in the distance to merge in a indefinable point with the blue sky.

Thus we cruised into the port of Slano - where there were people enjoying nice cold beverages, underneath cool awnings looking across the pristine waters reflecting the ancient hills beyond creating a perfect, memorable occasion. In the middle of nowhere. A quiet and quaint excotic harborside town ... and then we storm in - park our boat, blocking their view, and laughing raucously jump on a waiting bus as disappear. Leaving the view blocked. Brilliant! Yay for the age of tourism.Let's see who else we can piss off whilst we're running around in large groups....power to the people! ...more so to those that have wifii. The excursion on the bus to the wine tasting was much quieter that the return trip. Go figure. Nice wines and a very insightful use of walnuts and grappa which needs to be explored by all walnut growers back home. We stopped off at a town on a peninsula which is historically important for its salt mines, resulting fortress like walls which seamlessly extend to the top of the significantly high hill for no reason apart from creating a great wall of China experience for the pending explotation of the tourist age. Being time constrained and suitably charged from the previous stop, and the fact that we were with co-minded players we sat and had a couple of refreshments whilst watching the fading sun pick up the variety of colours the nearby hills tend to resonate with at this time of day.

The 30 minute bus trip back was punctuated by loud Ockerisms (just fullfilling the destiny). Dinner at a restaurant next to the local swanky marina was very funny and subsequently most headed off to bed early as they know the boat leaves at 5:30 am and they don't want to miss out on that event...

On board the Agape

As checkout time was 10:00 am we planned the morning's activities to the minute E.g. alarm at 8:15. Hit snooze twice. Arise have breakfast of croissants, juice and coffee on the balcony overlooking calm sea whilst sun slowly moves in general direction of zenith. All was quiet in the burb this morning as school was not in. The place is really peaceful without those partying noisy troublemakers creating their usual racus as they hang about the school doing all that conversing and communication things that the young around the world are renowned for. We were fully packed and the sound of the the last zip was drowned out by the knock on the door right on 10:00 am. Leaving the bags in the safe confines of the community kitchen we walked into town with the specific intent of enjoying our last 3 hours of freedom. The sea was amazingly calm all day today. A great day for being out on the water..(!)...The town looks exactly the same.

Still can't move quickly. People packed in everywhere all doing the same thing day after day. The only difference is (I guess) the individuals change over on a daily basis. Collectively it's the same. We managed to find coffee in an alleyway so tight the chairs individually line up against the walls and partook in a yummy cup of fresh berries whilst sitting on the edge of the harbour. They manage to keep the water of this harbour miraculously clean. Even managed to purchase as new pair of specs - replacing last night's broken set on the groin invasive bus ride. We found it interesting that you can purchase a nice little glasses case for less than a price of going for a wee just around the corner. Note: you may get away with going the wrong way along a pedestrian path. You will not get away with a free wee in this town. Taking the walking option back to base camp we caught our breath and then through the sheer generosity of our host who kindly drove us to the real harbour where ships of all varieties abound. They generally have very picturesque boats in these parts. All sorts of configurations. Many with fine woodwork and masts - some even used for real sails. After waiting around a bit we finally made it on board to our vessel - appropriately called the "Rose Agape" .

She's only a year old so quite well appointed. A crew of 8 plus the tour director. The captain looks like an old Croatian sea dog, two general sea hands, two chefs, two serving staff and a cabin cleaner. 39 passengers. Mostly Aus, Kiwi, and a few UK, Irish, and Yanks thrown in (maybe - maybe not as we haven't heard any yet). The strict routine started at 6:00pm (sharp) with an introduction of the crew and an outline of the rules, expected behaviours (e.g. you must shower before entering the jacuzzi or you will be harangued), known costs and expect the unexpected costs. And you must pay in cash. It seems piracy on the high seas has come of age. The age demographic seems reasonably spread - with us in the middle. So we should get along o.k. without rubbing too many people up the wrong way. Will try our best though as it's obviously our duty to uphold the Ocker reputation wherever we go. So here we are - paid a small fortune to be on a boat which has the capability of going anywhere we want and so far we are staying firmly attached to the port with no intention of going anywhere for a long time. Ship board life is hoot. Everyone is in bed by 9:30. We are locked in our twin bed cabin with no open windows and the sound of the aircon whirling away as it picks up the fumes of smokers somewhere nearby and pumps them in. The blinds are firmly drawn as our view out is into the wall of an adjoining vessel with their deck lights blaring in through the darkness. Tomorrow morning we pick up the ships routine in earnest.

Above on the deck the lights of the harbour twinkle across the waters in picturesque leading lines to places of unattainable freedom and joyousness whilst below the sound of nearby cabins flushing their cisterns resonates through the white linen enclosed pillows.

Diving and dining in Dubrovnik

Old habits return quickly (when given the opportunity) and so we slept through a perfectly good sunrise to awaken when all the colours had been washed away by the high in the sky location of the sun. Perfect day weather wise though so it's really great to be here appreciating the picture perfect location in fabulous conditions. The aim of the morning was to get as many clothes washed prior to our incarceration over the next week. So loaded up with our dirty laundry we jumped on a hot crowded bus into town duly creating more. It's a never ending cycle. Thinking that maybe the crowds would be less in town today was totally wishful. If anything it was worse.

Yesterday we heard there were 5000 people off a cruise ship. Today there could have easily been two in port. Tomorrow we'll know more about this. In the meantime we behaved like locals (or Led Zeppelin) and walked in through the out door. After all we weren't there to do touristy stuff. We were doing laundry. So totally self justified in our outlandish behaviour we weaved through the milling millions on our sacred quest for a case of clean clothes. Stopping ever so briefly for a quick purchase of art work (oh .. and some clothes fittings ..but nothing else as we're not really like all those tourist hordes). Snapping a shot (or sixty) of the fortress walls and harbour beyond an the way, the laundromat was conveniently located next to a restaurant.

So we could admire the view, the aforementioned artwork whilst keeping an eye on tumbling linen. Once that was all sorted we headed back to base camp (yep it's pretty high up the hill) to catch a rare opportunity to speak to K1 and K2 via Skype and learn that they're doing Ok without us. Super...or maybe we're superfluous. Something like that. We then headed down to the local beach. Which was something of a misnomer. All there was was rocks and water. That's a good thing about traveling, you're constantly challenged to consider the world from outside the perspective of your own thinking. E.g. Beach equals sand + water. No. ..Beach equals land + water. Land can be sand. Land can be rocks. The good thing about this beach was the locals had smoothed over the rough rocks with concrete, put steps in and even mounted a nice new stainless steel ladder to get in and out of the water. Every piece of sand beach we have seen around here is covered in deck chairs, umbrellas, waiters and portable EFTPOS devices. This just had a few people lazing about on the rocks (emulating seals) and enjoying the peace and harmony (and the harmonics overhead from a persistent helicopter).

The water was warm and extraordinarily clear. Thanks to advice, we had swimming goggles so we could also see the teaming fish underneath. We'll the blogger did. Non blogger will require more encouraging before venturing in. Swimming in the Adriatic Sea..tick!. After climbing the plethora of steps back up the hill. A clean up and grooming was in order before heading off to our extremely salubrious dinner at the most prestigious table in town. The harbour in the old town is defined by 3 large arches.

Under one of these we sat and watched the busy scene of boats coming and going with people wandering past (all obviously extremely jealous of our exhalted position - as were the people further back in the restaurant) as we wined and dined whilst the colours changed from blue to yellow to red to brown and then into black as the lights then took over in their twinkling reflections over the harbour. The chirping flocks of darting sparrows overhead were probably repeating the same dance that they'd be doing for many centuries at this time of the day in this place. Well.. practice makes perfect so they say. Apart from forgetting a pin number on a credit card (key pads are upside down in this part of the world ... A trap for the tipsy traveller) it was a fantastic evening. Yet another highlight event. Another local bus home up the hill. It's far better than walking and it's also nice to be able to experience travel using your own nouse... and under the smelly armpits (or groins in this case...yeech) of the locals instead of being bundled around in a group via luxury coaches being chauffeured from one location to another under the protective gaze of an official tour guide like the daily hordes of 5000 people who do that from all the cruise ships that come into town via the main commercial harbour. Hang me up if it ever comes to that....

Hidden treasures of Dubrovnik

Making up for lost sleep ins today we slumbered well into mid morning before peeking out through the shutters at the sea view. By this time the kids were in school ( the activities of the students - senior secondary from all accounts - dominate the cultural resonance of this locality). Breakfast on the balcony - thanks to astute pre-planning by the non-blogger and the fact our accommodation has a community kitchen - was thoroughly enjoyable. Highlighted by the aspect of course. The Adriatic Sea was resplendent in the mid morning light - a miriad of sparkles led off towards the horizon. It was a cool breeze which slowly faded over the course of the day. We then hopped onto our feet and took the long 15 minute trek into the old city. This hides behind a hill when viewing from out balcony. As we got closer the volume of people thickened.

When we hit the drawbridge that leads into the old city and then into the marshalling courtyard prior to actually entering the place the crowds were simply extraordinary. A sea of tourists was flooding into the town like an invading horde of Venetians intent on conquest and plunder. If this place was an island it would've sunk today, and the last thing to be heard as it disappeared below the waters would have been the concophany of camera clicks capturing every moment (and perspective). Alas this place is extremely well built. Incredibly so on closer inspection. Assuming dollars have been spent recently the walls look impenetrable. There are only 3 gates to the city. 2 of them look like they have perfectly functional draw bridges, which I must say was very tempting to activate. Just to stop more of the marauding hordes coming in. It was bedlam. Never seen such a throng of hat wearing, camera wielding, short-pants and short-shirt sleeve wearing mass of people anywhere. And I reckon this blogger has seen a few. The best form of camoflauge is to blend in. So that's exactly what we did. Looked and behaved just like all the rest of them. We even spent money on overly priced coffee, food and attractions just keep the the image up. Our main aim of booking dinner at the best seat in town (as recommended by the Ellis's) was deftly dealt with. Next was sussing out washing facilities. This happened eventually but we got distracted along the way by roadside jewellery stalls and coffee where the consumption price is view based. The ramparts of the fort have a walking trail around them whick looks extremely similar to the great wall in China (less wide but the same amount of steps). We chose not to do this and instead took the cable car to the top of the hill overlooking the area. Blending in with the throngs beautifully we waited patiently in the queue before being whisked to the top of the mountain in a swinging gondola.

The views were worth the trip. Inland the stark mountains disappeared into the hazy distance whilst below the old fort town lay resplendent in its armoured glory. Perfectly protecting its harbour in the prime position along the coastline, that when looking northwards showed the miriad of islands and waterways that we'll be heading into shortly. Taking a punt we wandered away from the masses and their manicured environments (which cost just to enter) and walked 50 meters across gravel pathways, around the old fort, up some old ruins and onto an unobstructed view of the entire coast with only couple of other adventurous souls to share it with. Just goes to show that sometimes it's worth walking away from the crowd. After a few happy snaps and a quick lament at the grave at the top we rode the glass car back down to the fortress and eventually caught the local bus home. This was more fun and challenging than simply walking for 15 mins. Because we can, stocked with local goodies from the local convenience store, we returned to the balcony for a pre dinner sesh - which rolled into pizzas for T as the sun set towards the west and the Terminator slowly encased the sky in darkness from the east.

And then a bonus... Figuring backs were sore due to the age of the mattress and with two more nights to sleep on it it was determined that the best course of action was to flip it over. That we did and lo-and-behold! What better parcel to find stuffed underneath but a plastic bag stuffed with cash! Given the state of the never turned mattress this could've been there for many years. Pay Day comes to those who think outside the norm. Chinese Yuan. Obviously being secreted away from the government to avoid taxes. Feeling pretty happy with our new found wealth we are looking forward to spending all $23 Aus equivalent on something really worthwhile. Like maybe a Croatian fridge magnet.. or maybe (really getting excited now) a T-shirt that says "I went to Dabrovnik and all I bought was this lousy T-Shirt". Priceless. Just can't wait to hit the old town again just to while away the hours deciding what to purchase.

Too close for comfort

The restless night was punctuated by the listness anticipation of having to get up at 4 am for yet another airport excursion. Really surprised with the amount of people leaving a relatively small locale early in the morning. We dodged a bullet by gliding straight through customs when the rest of the port was clogged up in their section. Still don't know why UK gets special treatment there. No complaints though as they passed us through the gate early, bundled as all into a bus and then had wait outside the plane on the tarmac for an overly long time packed like sardines in a tin and rapidly starting to smell the same. Flight delayed by 40 minutes so the stress levels about meeting connections starts to rise as does the anxiety about feeding a plane load of people eggs. Maybe this is Portuguese humour or substitution for in-flight entertainment. Or both. Green Fields, defined by hedgerows, slate roofs and grey skies. Nothing ever changes in England. The transfer at Manchester was a close call. As we had to go in and out of customs and bag handling the queues at each step of the process seemed to be set up to seeing us fail. What was a seamless entry 3 weeks ago at arrivals was absolutely choc a block with about 300 people in view and they stretched off behind us into the distance and around mirage obcucured corners. 3 people manually processing them. Would have easily missed the connection if we hadn't put our hand up and they very nicely bumped us up to the front. But the nightmare continued with the most rediculous, insecure (people get stuff stolen), inefficient security checking process on the planet. Maybe Brexit will fix it. Lesson to be learnt - follow instructions to the letter or suffer big delays. More chaos and confusion finding the gate and then great long wait to actually get on the plane (could see others getting off it!) And then delays in taking off. Not the we care that much so long as the pre-paid transfer is still waiting. No time for shopping. No time to update the blog. No time for lunch. A rushed takeaway coffee on the run. At least we got on the plane. A classic case of too close for comfort. The flight to Dubrovnik was OK. Enough room to move in the seat (take that Ryanair - you tight cheapskates) and it only took 2 and a bit hours to cross over multiple countries (and cultures) and land in such a diverse and interesting place. At home we'd get to Adelaide....

We have landed on our feet. Croatia has been the entire focus of the trip. Everything up to now was the build up to here. The views from the private transfer van were through clean windows and bordering on being mind-blowing. Every angle, every vista was picture post card stuff. Pity the blogger was using the other camera at the time. Being a rain god is a difficult gig. Little did we know that transiting via the UK would also incur picking up a pocket of their crappy weather and have it erupt out of our luggage as soon as we opened it. Oh well. Whatever - at least we got here in one days travel. On the bright side it created some fab images of a rain soaked sky catching the calm sea over a coast line that has been inhabited by humans for eons. Our acommodation on the hill overlooking the Adriatic Sea is fabulous.

We did a count back over the years. This wins. Excotic rating 10/10. Wandering just out of visible eyesight from the room we found the ability to stock a pantry, have a great dinner (at Melbourne prices but we had no choice) and wander home to write blogs etc.

Day trippin to Cascais

Being creatures of habit (albeit somewhat constricted by continuos location changes) we headed back into the main drag in the centre of town for coffee and pastries in the same joint as yesterday. All very pleasant while surrounded by the busy inner city morning life of Lisbon. Generally there is a very happy vibe to the place. So good on 'em. We then wandered down to the port area and eventually found the train station that funnels the hordes along the river bank to the coast. There is definitely a mentality by the tourist throngs that queuing is ok. Queuing is good. Queuing is what you travel for. Yesterday we skipped the queuing hordes at a different station all patiently waiting in line to buy tickets to get to Sintra. Today they were all waiting in line to buy tickets to get to to Belem and/or Cascais. We could've saved a couple of minutes by going to queue-less machines in the levels in the Met below but had already missed the waiting service so it didn't really make any difference. What was really surprising was the queues in Belen we noticed as we shot past. There were thousands of them lined up along the river just to see a memorial to the "Age of discovery" (aka "Conquest") and a bit further on a small (almost toy) castle built on the water line. We'd had the rap from a fellow traveler yesterday and so knew better than to stop there and kept going up to the end of the line.

Cascais is another playground for the wealthy. This one is situated where the Tigris River meets the Atlantic ocean and as such has decent beaches, impressive cliffs, clear water, surf and sun. Fun for everyone. Five minutes before arrival we had the thought "what are we going to do when we get there". Luckily the internet gave as a list of ideas via the Trip thingy and we walked straight out of the station , hired a couple of push bikes and we were off. Weaving our way through cobblestone streets, dodging tourists and avoiding cars. Once we got through town, around the impressive fort that is the harbour we hit the very well appointed bike path that runs along the cliffs and heads over to the ocean proper. We didn't go the whole way as that was not the intention. Instead we turned around in the car park of a very swanky looking resturant on the cliff edge and coaxed our creaking single gear hire bikes back up the hill whilst the gleaming luxury cars in the carpark behind gloated to each other in the bright midday sun. Stopping for a very pleasant lunch in a slightly less salubrious establishment (Casa da Guia) we were surrounded by some very well dressed and well behaved locals. Obviously the elite were out for lunch and were in no hurry to go anywhere. Still, the staff fed and watered us which is all we needed before riding off on our trusty steads to stop at the bike side market at a place called Boca do Inferno. This has some awesome rock features carved from wild waters and lots of interwoven staircases and tunnels and bridges carved by mankind into the stone as well. We didn't stop to look at this because there was a market set up to cash in on the tourists who stopped there. Which we did stop at. Got some stuff and treadled on.

Back into town and had the bike hire guy snap us on our transportation, caught the train back into town and walked back through throngs of young people in blue shirts performing chants and strange movements all choriographed and lead by older ones in black and white. It sounded politically motivated. There were swarming all over town. We discovered later this was the first year uni students going through their orientation week and this was a hazing ritual. Dinner was yet another walking tour. This one was called "Tapas Experience" and was quite an adventure. Seven people from a wide variety of cultural backgrounds lead to more interesting conversations than the actual food and drinks which we'd already pretty much experienced over the last days. It was interesting to see the old red light district which still maintains a seedy feel and apparently comes alive at 3am. Way after these old fuddy duddies are in bed.

The students had gone by the time we walked the same route back through the centre of town again, replaced by partying participants in Portugal's politically permissive population. The fancy elevator (aka tourist trap) looked resplendent lit up at night. Back in the room it was time to yet again pack up and have a restless night as poor preparation for the day's hop, skip and jump to the next destination.

Enlightened via a pit

The alarm got us ready in time to stop for breakfast at a joint which offered tables for guests. It seems to be a norm around here to stand at the counter whilst breaking fast. Way to uncomfortable for us heathens. Coffee and croissants went down well before we headed back up the cascading escalators to the tour meeting point. Once we were all organised we set off. A group of 8 intrepid explorers (one of which was our guide - Fred for short) to explore the wild regions and subsequent delights of the nearby mystical hills. A forty minute local train took us from sunny downtown Lisbon, up through drab suburbia, into more suburbia covered in a eery fog, to more drab suburbia looking damp and wet.

By the time we got to the end of the line in Sintra it was raining quite heavily and it was a bit disconcerting to see our fellow travellers pull out coats, jackets, poncho's and umbrellas because we had not done our homework and checked the forecast. After all this is meant to be a summer holiday. Nothing to but suck it up and hopefully it will pass. As the guide helpfully (!) told us on arrival that this place has magical qualities. One of which is it's own unique weather patterns. As we traipsed off into town and through rain sodden gardens it was interesting to note strange turrents and other similar features drifting in and out of vision as the fog swirled around the hills and valleys.. There is of course a long history to this place. It's named after the moon followed by a litany of cultural misinterpretations over the ages. It's been the escape location for many over the years, including the rich hierarchy. Indeed still is as we were shown the place Madge has just bought. She has some work to do because at the moment it looks like an abandoned Moorish squab. So we walked around one residence (aka palace) where royalty had hung out while listening to stories of the links between the Poms and the locals. Touching all the various golden ages of Portuguese world domination. Apparently the 5th is just about to happen. Just watch the world cup next year. Slowly the clouds cleared and the afternoon turned bright and sunny - finally revealing the castle on the hill.

We didn't get up to this because of logistics. Apparently the hills are riddled with tunnels that have been used for all sorts of reasons over the years. After a yummy sweet snack from a tourist ridden shop in a tourist ridden street we then lunched similar to last night's dinner - we went to find some of them. This joint is called Quinta da Regaleira which has a grand old turrented house, lots of adjoining buildings, running water, amazing gardens and a really cool secret. Dan Brown would've loved this. Possibly he'd been here. As had the Knights of the Templar and indeed the Masons and a whole lot of subterfuge, symbolism and strange clues as to what the truth actually is.

The highlight is a journey down a 27 meter depth well which was used to initiate members into their secret societies. We didn't have to actually pass the test as the way through the caves was lit by led lights. We did follow the correct path though - thanks to the directions of our guide. Emerging from the cave we had to walk across water and into enlightenment. At least we now know what the Masons do - well the general theme anyway. Unfortunately we had to cut the tour a bit short in order to catch an earlier train back to the lowlands. No harm done - like every place we visit there is always more to see and do. This is what creates a desire to return. Sintra is definitely one of those locations as is indeed to whole country it seems. After a quick refresher at the strange temporary structure they call a hotel we went out and caught up with Lottie and Peter for a pleasant few hours of drinks on a Rooftop Bar with photogenic views across town and then dinner in a fabulous up market restaurant in a posh area of town we hadn't yet seen.

Pete runs the local Aus embassy here, so there were many interesting conversations had and even yet more insightful information on the local area. This time it was modern politics and world views. A great night out after a great day.