I have decided to put more time and effort into my writings rather than just state my thoughts as they blurt into my head (unlike me, I know). One thing that I am becoming aware of is that the longer I progress on this journey the more belief I have that it will change my perception on life and consequently change me as a person.
Since my last entry four days ago I feel I have accomplished a vast amount. I suppose the reasoning behind that lies in the planning. Once in Croatia I was going to take some time to myself and use the time as a 'holiday'. It turned out that I had itchy feet.
I spent four nights in Strobeč with regular visits to the UNESCO sites in Split. Split is a very historical place with fantastically-preserved architecture, Diocletian's Palace is quite rightly the jewel in the crown. The Old Town, well-publicised for being quaint and steeped in history, is hardly an eyesore although tourism has left its mark. Tourism is a major business in Split and therefore every square metre seems to have been thought about for one purpose - money. Which, to me, has meant that Split lost some of its charm. I am aware that I am there as a tourist and stating that it is too touristy is irony but still I want my bread buttered on both sides!
This is why my bags are packed and Suzi is good to go. That and the stones I had been sleeping on were starting to play havoc on my back, it was like having a massage from a butcher wielding a meat tenderiser.
My good old time keeping meant I got to the ferry 30 minutes after the first ferry left - two and a half hours before the intended ferry was due to depart.
As I walked away from Suzi precariously poised on the centre stand with a bit of rope tethered to her, acting as an anchor, I could not help but feel slightly scared for her safety.
After 2 hours with my heart in my mouth as we rode every wave, I returned to find Suzi standing up right and all bits intact.
On arrival in Hvar Town I stumble fortuitously on the information point. I am less fortunate to be accosted by 10 locals, all brandishing paper advertising different apartments. A quick scramble through and I make it to the information point with wallet intact. The girl behind the desk suggested the best accommodation was with the one of the gang members. Wallet in hand I venture out like a lamb to the slaughter.
5 minutes of renegotiating and I am following Andrej to his block of apartments situated on the main road in.
Two English ladies are my neighbours, Ginny and Errol. On more than one occasion we spoke at lengths about travelling, politics and generally putting the world to rights. We had lots in common, so much so that I start to think that we are from the same generation, although 35 years separate our births. I attribute this to them being young at heart rather than the reverse!
The girls leave me sat on the balcony reflecting my true age. Just before thinking about counting the rings around my trunk I come up with a better idea, alcohol, that's what young people do on Friday nights (so they tell me). A quick chat with a Brit and she raves about a Full Moon Party on one of the nearby uninhabited islands.
As I deliberate with a €4 bottle of Becks in hand, a saying drifts through my head on the harbour breeze. 'Regret the things you do, not the things you don't.' Next thing I know I have the ocean spray in my face as I sit with 30 people on a boat made for 20 heading for some neon lights on the horizon.
3am... I decide this is the appropriate time for someone who is trying to prove their age is less than 60, but not trying to compete with the gap-year uni students. I also lost my company for the evening, Megan and Geoff, a Brit/Oz couple currently living in London. So I soberly head back to the awaiting taxi boat.
I drive the length of Otok Hvar to catch the ferry from the small port of Sućuraj. In Micheal Palin's New Europe, he writes about the size of the port. The road forks one way to the centre and the other to the ferry. Within 200 metres I am faced with a dead end with a ferry waiting to sail.
Palin talks of Hvar and the famous lavender and herb smells. I expect a constant barrage of smells to be wafting over me. I feel slightly disappointed to get only a faint whiff. My clothes could do with a good airing!
Since my last entry four days ago I feel I have accomplished a vast amount. I suppose the reasoning behind that lies in the planning. Once in Croatia I was going to take some time to myself and use the time as a 'holiday'. It turned out that I had itchy feet.
I spent four nights in Strobeč with regular visits to the UNESCO sites in Split. Split is a very historical place with fantastically-preserved architecture, Diocletian's Palace is quite rightly the jewel in the crown. The Old Town, well-publicised for being quaint and steeped in history, is hardly an eyesore although tourism has left its mark. Tourism is a major business in Split and therefore every square metre seems to have been thought about for one purpose - money. Which, to me, has meant that Split lost some of its charm. I am aware that I am there as a tourist and stating that it is too touristy is irony but still I want my bread buttered on both sides!
This is why my bags are packed and Suzi is good to go. That and the stones I had been sleeping on were starting to play havoc on my back, it was like having a massage from a butcher wielding a meat tenderiser.
My good old time keeping meant I got to the ferry 30 minutes after the first ferry left - two and a half hours before the intended ferry was due to depart.
As I walked away from Suzi precariously poised on the centre stand with a bit of rope tethered to her, acting as an anchor, I could not help but feel slightly scared for her safety.
After 2 hours with my heart in my mouth as we rode every wave, I returned to find Suzi standing up right and all bits intact.
On arrival in Hvar Town I stumble fortuitously on the information point. I am less fortunate to be accosted by 10 locals, all brandishing paper advertising different apartments. A quick scramble through and I make it to the information point with wallet intact. The girl behind the desk suggested the best accommodation was with the one of the gang members. Wallet in hand I venture out like a lamb to the slaughter.
5 minutes of renegotiating and I am following Andrej to his block of apartments situated on the main road in.
Two English ladies are my neighbours, Ginny and Errol. On more than one occasion we spoke at lengths about travelling, politics and generally putting the world to rights. We had lots in common, so much so that I start to think that we are from the same generation, although 35 years separate our births. I attribute this to them being young at heart rather than the reverse!
The girls leave me sat on the balcony reflecting my true age. Just before thinking about counting the rings around my trunk I come up with a better idea, alcohol, that's what young people do on Friday nights (so they tell me). A quick chat with a Brit and she raves about a Full Moon Party on one of the nearby uninhabited islands.
As I deliberate with a €4 bottle of Becks in hand, a saying drifts through my head on the harbour breeze. 'Regret the things you do, not the things you don't.' Next thing I know I have the ocean spray in my face as I sit with 30 people on a boat made for 20 heading for some neon lights on the horizon.
3am... I decide this is the appropriate time for someone who is trying to prove their age is less than 60, but not trying to compete with the gap-year uni students. I also lost my company for the evening, Megan and Geoff, a Brit/Oz couple currently living in London. So I soberly head back to the awaiting taxi boat.
I drive the length of Otok Hvar to catch the ferry from the small port of Sućuraj. In Micheal Palin's New Europe, he writes about the size of the port. The road forks one way to the centre and the other to the ferry. Within 200 metres I am faced with a dead end with a ferry waiting to sail.
Palin talks of Hvar and the famous lavender and herb smells. I expect a constant barrage of smells to be wafting over me. I feel slightly disappointed to get only a faint whiff. My clothes could do with a good airing!
1 comment:
Question - why the hell is your hair falling out??
How was the full moon party? How were the bars in Hvar on Fri you texted me about and who did you go with? Good to hear you are mingling well with the ladies..even if they are 30 yrs plus your senior!
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