Friday, 29 September 2017 to Thursday, 5 October 2017
After our harrowing but most enjoyable day yesterday, 100% up and 50% down, and then 50% up and 100% down the Triglav Mountain, we slept in rather late. I would have thought Adri’s first words would be “Let’s stay put for another day”, but my thoughts must have been tangled, it was “Get up, let’s go to Croatia”. We got up and we went to Croatia.

It was around 12:00 that we said our interim farewells to Steve and Marina. Our vignette had expired and we were not keen to get a €2000 fine. We stopped off at the local post office for a shiny new vignette but this particular one did not do vignettes. We finally found a garage that stocked such after which we headed out onto the highway in a southerly direction towards Croatia, safe in the knowledge that we are legal on the road.

Most EU countries being signatories to the Schengen agreement have no border controls between them. Croatia had not yet signed up to that agreement thus border controls there are still firmly in place. We stopped at the Slovenia border control and a friendly lady accepted and stamped our passports, handed them back to me through the car window, no need to even get out of the car.

Proceeding to the Croatian border, I went through the same passport ritual and the guy noted “South Africa, that’s a very long way away”. I nodded in agreement while he paged through the passport, probably looking for a Croatian visa which he obviously did not find. He did however find our French Visa and residency details, stamped away and handed our passports back with a smile and well wishes.

Our goal for the few days that we would spend in Croatia was to see as much as possible of the Istria region and also the Island of Krk. Yes Krk, the Croatians tend to use vowels sparingly.

We followed a winding road that led us to Umag, a town that is famed for its lovely white beaches but we had no time to search for them beaches although we did make time for our first beer in Croatia.

After exploring Umag for a while on foot we settled down at a little place I’ve found down by the quay called Delizia which of course reminded me of the Chris de Burgh song called Patricia the Stripper, who calls herself Delicia, as per the lyrics below:

I’m going out to dinner, with a gorgeous singer, To a little place I’ve found down by the quay; Her name is Patricia, she calls herself Delicia, And the reason isn’t very hard to see…

I was very happy to be reacquainted with a Karlovačko, a beer that was cold and close to Marc and my hearts during our sailing trip in Croatia many years ago. The waiter wanted to know where we were from and his reaction was the same as the border guy “South Africa, that’s a very long way away”. Yes it is, now how about that beer, I thought. When he heard Adri and I speak Afrikaans he was surprised that he could understand us. He had spent time as a waiter in Brugge in Belgium and spoke fluent Flemish, thus easy to understand Afrikaans. The conversation from there on was in Afrikaans/Flemish. I can hear Renata saying “Now isn’t that something”.

He refused to listen to my order saying “I know what you want”. I shot him a questioning look to which he replied “Karlovačko”, exactly what I was about to order. I shot him another questioning look to which he replied “We’re men, we know what we like”. I liked this guy.

I wanted to take the scenic route down the coast to our home in Rovinj but alas, time was mean to us, we were forced to take the toll road to our destination to ensure that the room we had booked wasn’t auctioned off prematurely.

Arriving in Rovinj we battled for a while to find our accommodation but after a few false starts going around in square circles, we found, what was to be our new home for the next two nights. But, there was no one there to meet us. A call to the number provided by booking.com went unanswered. Oh no, not again, not another cancellation!? On my second attempt I however found a helpful voice on the other side who advised that our apartment was indeed ready and waiting for us… it’s the one with the key in the door! Trusting people.

After yesterday and today’s excessive driving we were tired and an early night was called for. We spotted a Konzum Supermarket on our way in and decided it would provide supper for the night. Supper was not great; fish and chips and salads and chicken wings… which may sound pretty good but when bought from a supermarket deli and you have no way of warming it up…

The best of the above ensemble was the accompaniment, an ice cold Weisenberger, a white beer closely resembling my favourite Hoegaarden. The wifi was not great but bearable. Adri shut down at 21:30, I soldiered on until 23:00.

Saturday morning we slept like babes but were woken up with a gentle tap on the door. Breakfast in bed! There were orange juice, yogurt, croissant with a jam filling, salami and cheese with a roll, toast as well as a magnificent omelette with ham and cheese. And of course there was a cappuccino lurking on that tray as well.

It was around midday that the Peugeot nosed its way out of Rovinj, first inland, then back towards the coast where we stopped off at a lookout point towards Limski Zaljev or Lim bay. The Lim valley is a 35 km long valley of the river Pazinčica, which transforms into the Limski zaljev, a 10 kilometre long estuary.

From there it was on to Vrsar which we found delightful with its old town and marina living side by side. There was a general pleasant and friendly atmosphere in the air, we really liked this place.

We then drove past Funtana and on to Porec where we wanted to spend a while, maybe a coffee, maybe a beer. We found parking in a blue zone which meant money had to change hands but I simply could not get that parking meter to cooperate, never seen one like this. In the EU everything is standardised, they love their bloody standards, now I wish they would standardise their bloody parking meters, rules and regulations.

A German bloke then tried and came to the same conclusion. I decided to risk a ticket, what could I do. Adri had in the meantime walked on to another parking meter which I attempted to operate, and this one was kinder to me. I pumped all my Kuna coins into that puppy, more than was required, got a slip and placed it on the dashboard; 50 metres back… one hour and 15 minutes we could spend here.

We walked up and down the nice enough promenade and soon found out that this town resembled a little Germany, that was the only language we encountered, and the Germans seemed to be having a whole lot of fun. However, this town seemed to be so touristy that we decided to hold our thirst for another while yet. We had 45 minutes left on our parking ticket but we did not care much for Porec, we moved on.

We then drove through Spadici, in a roundabout away through Cervar and ended up at Cervar-Porat which has a smallish port and marina, more our kinda place. We have noticed that, it being end September, some businesses had already closed for the winter season. In Vrsar we saw a restaurant closing for the season with all the plants and outside furniture being moved inside the restaurant, waiting for warmer weather. In Cervar-Porat we noticed that most of the restaurants around the port area were already all locked up, there were only about four still doing lacklustre business.

We chose the one at the far end of the harbour, run by a German, no surprise there. A big Karlovačko for me and a cappuccino for Adri and a plate of chips to share were ordered. We stared out over the port and over the sea and yachts and… so relaxing, so we did some of that for a long while.

It was around 16:30 that we left. We lived in Rovinj but have not even looked around our own old town yet, we needed to rectify that. It was just past 17:00 that we parked near the old town and walked up and down the streets and alleyways of this lovely area. We watched the sun set over the sea, it was just wonderful.

We wandered around wondering whether we should have supper after having had a hefty late breakfast and a large plate of chips not too many minutes ago. We decided to skip supper and had ice cream instead. We made it home to an internet-less apartment… Don’t mess with my internet, you know how I get when you mess with my internet.

I contacted our landlord and soon enough he arrived, tested the wifi and he concurred with my finding. The apartment below us happened to be open, its internet was working fine, so we moved there in the middle of the night, like thieves in the night. We of course had the landlord’s blessing.

We woke up to our new surroundings just before breakfast was served at 08:30. This new apartment was a spacious studio, very comfortable indeed. We were offered the option of sitting outside in the garden for breakfast which was a refreshing treat in the cool morning air.

Our first stop this morning, on our way to Pula, was supposed to be Peroj but we got sidetracked on a side road and ended up at the Mon Perin camping ground. There are two separate parts to this beautiful camping ground situated right there on by the sea. They have spots for auto villas, caravans, tents and there are also wonderful permanent mobile homes for rent, beautifully furnished, all situated under large old trees.

We then arrived in Peroj and found a disjointed town, there seemed to be no business district and no promenade by the sea, maybe we missed it, maybe it missed us, but we did not care for this town, we moved on.

We drove further south along the coast and arrived at Fazana and what a great place this turned out to be. A lovely port area ringed with many restaurants, lovely little streets with more restaurants, little shops and apartments. This place has a lovely relaxing feel to it; here I had to have a beer.

Who would have thought that Pivo Bezalkoholno meant alcohol free beer? But now that I look at it again, hmm… there is an “alkohol no” in there somewhere, it must be the bezal that threw me off course. Turns out it was a Karlovačko 0.0%… Ouch! I did not care for the smell of it so I perfected my drinking style by holding my breath while taking a swig, and breathing while the golden syrup rushed down my throat. It tasted better than it smelt, only just though.

Many, or maybe most accommodations in Croatia on booking.com are in apartments. One thing we should have learned yesterday but definitely did today, was to once you’ve booked, to make a specific arrangement with your landlord as to your expected arrival time. Yesterday we arrived at dead man’s door, today would be no different.

Actually, it was different… it was worse, on the way to Pula today I received an SMS from Orange stating that I had just run out of roaming talk time and 3G, so we could not phone our landlord when we arrived at dead man’s door. To rectify the situation we had to have a cappuccino and espresso, against our will at a local coffee shop in order to use their wifi. A Skype call later and all was sorted. Lesson finally learned. Oh and that reminds me, never run out of airtime when travelling, it is most inconvenient.

Sandra met us, showed us around the apartment and left us to our own devices. A small but very comfortable little place it was indeed. Feeling tired we decided to stay in for the evening so did a spot of grocery shopping, got ourselves beer and red wine and salad stuff and breakfast stuff… and a lasagne dish.

We knew it but we did not register… our new home had a stove but no microwave nor oven, so how the hell were we supposed to warm up our lasagne supper? Have you ever had cooked lasagne? Me neither but stupid mistakes need to be rectified with stupidity, what could we do? Adri placed that lasagne in a pot on the stove to warm it up, and way above and beyond expectations, the cooked lasagne was great! Sometimes you just have to make do with the cards you’re dealt. A fresh garden salad with feta cheese accompanied the abused dish of lasagne. Dessert was a creamy type of a custard slice that was a perfect end to a rather strange but lovely supper.

To keep my mind distracted from the abuse I streamed a local Croatian music channel hoping to hear some of their traditional folk music. What I heard surprised me, Move Up from that great South African band Mango Groove came on, as if handpicked for us.

We had a bad night… but I’m running ahead of myself.

There was a noise somewhere in our immediate vicinity, probably a disco or something, I was too tired to care and fell asleep straight away. Adri kept vigil but finally succumbed to sleep at around 00:30.

I woke up at 04:25 on Monday morning with a doef-doef-doef battering my brain. I got up disorientated and tried to identify where this noise was coming from. As I opened the window Adri opened her eyes, there was nothing out there, neither in Adri’s eyes. I concluded that the sound must emanate from somewhere within the building.

Like a regular inspector Clouseau I shuffled down the stairs to investigate. My by now fine-tuned ears led me to the unit directly below us. The door was bulging from the boom-boom-boom bass which was interlaced with streaks of some ill sounding whines, which was possibly music. I had found the culprit whom I was about to confront.

A crowd had in the meantime gathered one level up, there was Adri and… and… her crowd sounding cries from above urged me to refrain from tapping on that door. In a loud hushed voice she warned “They may be on drugs and stuff!” Sanity prevailed; she may have had a point. I shuffled back upstairs and channelled my fury into the email I sent to the landlady. Now I’m not one to complain… no really, but I could not survive another night like that, nerves were frayed, I’m afraid I’ll do some damage one fine day. (Thanks for letting me use your line, Paul). It was 04:55 that the email left the premises.

The music stopped at 05:06 but 17 minutes later it started up yet again, softer this time but as annoying… this was insane! I managed to catch another few winks; Adri was pissed so stayed up to do her admin.

It was around midday that we left home with still frail and frayed nerves. “Please don’t let anyone look at me askew today”, I pleaded and prayed. Our first stop was the Pula Verudela which lies to the south of Pula and is a basin almost filled to capacity with yachts, a wonderful sight, but not particularly awesome. We had no yacht so did not linger and continued on to Prementura which is a pretty enough place by the sea with a rather nice camping area that also looked pretty good, nothing spectacular though.

Next up was Pomer which sounded like a cool place but on closer inspection it was rather ordinary. It was here that I was driving along, minding my own business, when a female bat out of hell nearly launched into me. This crazy lady appeared out of nowhere, zipped past a stop street, over the main road, the one I was on, and just as suddenly disappeared into the winding road to my right. Had I not applied excessive and sudden pressure on that brake pedal I would surely have hit that bat. Ditto for another few cars in the vicinity.

We continued along the coast to Medulin, a largish town with also not much going for it. We walked along the promenade looking for a beer but most of the places had already closed for the winter and there were none that tickled our fancy. One of the store owners tried to sell us some items before he closes his shop for the winter. He advised that he would be closing up shop in two day’s time and will only open again in April, a full six months of rest… now that’s a job I could handle, six months on, six months off!

We then continued our daytrip inland to Liznjan (what my mom used to say to my dad… “Listen Jan…”) and Sisan, but there was also not much to see there, folks.

We got home after a daytrip that was most enjoyable and scenic even though we did not meet up with any special places, for us at least… or maybe it was because that doef-doef-doef that was still shaking my soul.

After a quick nap we sauntered into Pula town for supper. We walked up to and around the Pula Arena, an amazing structure, but it had already closed, not for the winter though, only for the day. This must be one of the best preserved Roman amphitheatres and was constructed between 27 BC and 68 AD. It is now often used for concerts – a wonderful setting with the ocean in the background – and it was here that Steve and Marina saw Tom Jones perform not too long ago. According to them, one of the best live performers they had ever seen.

We then walked to the Twin Gates and the Gate of Hercules and from there marvelled at the Monastery and Church of St. Francis. We were planning on watching the famous light show on the cranes in the harbour but found it had taken a breather for the winter months, it also needed a rest. Below is what we missed. Slide the slider in the video below to around two minutes to see something happening, it is rather unique.

We then went for supper; Adri had grilled mackerel with soft potato and spinach, a really great dish. I had the grilled fruits form the sea; hake, calamari, mussels and small fishes and chips. It was a great meal but I was once again reminded that I should never eat fried seafood but rather go for the grilled variety. I had forgotten that my stomach cannot stomach so much oil…

While catching up on the news for the day I was appalled to read about the 59 people that were killed with another 527 injured in a mass shooting at a Las Vegas concert. When is this madness ever going to end? When will the US vote for stricter gun control laws? But sadly, it ain’t gonna happen; there are too many corrupt politicians there that make too much money from the NRA (National Rifle Association). Pity.

And then there was more sad news for me, one of my all-time favourite performers Tom Petty died of a heart attack today at 66 years of age. What sad news…

Tuesday we got a late start and finally left home at 11:30 heading for the island of Krk. In hindsight, had we known what lay in store for us we would have left much earlier.

Our first waypoint on the GPS was Labin which turned out to be an easygoing kinda place, a place where one immediately feels comfortable. We then took a drive up the hill to its old town and what a revelation that was. Maybe not in the same vein as many hilltop towns that we’ve seen, but it had a personality all of its own, a wonderful place with its winding cobble stone streets and beautiful views towards Rabac on the coast, our next destination.

Down the hill and down a winding road for a few kilometres we reached Rabac, another gem on the Adriatic. Standing at the harbour front looking back up towards the hill with the apartments and houses climbing up there as if it was an amphitheatre, one got the distinct feel of Positano on Italy’s Amalfi coast. Not quite as dramatic as Positano, but special in its own way.

From here we headed to the island of Krk which is joined to the mainland by a bridge just below the large town of Rijeka. We decided to take the winding coastal road to Krk rather than the faster direct inland one, and what an amazing choice this turned out to be. With lush green mountains to one’s left and the wide open ocean to one’s right, again reminiscent of Italy’s Amalfi coast. But, unlike the amazing Amalfi coast, it was still wild and untamed, just beautiful.

After yesterday’s sublime sunshine, the weather had turned rainy today which was a pity. We saw some amazing vistas dressed up in clouds and mist, the sea a dull grey. I knew that I have to come back here to see these vistas in its total nakedness, with the seas pure blue as I have seen the Adriatic many times before. I could not wait to return one day.

We passed through Rijeka, a large city with a charm of its own. Going south past Rijeka we turned right and finally crossed the bridge onto Krk island. At some point we turned left along a wildly winding road on the east coast of Krk until we reached our new hometown of Vrbnik. These Croatians must really employ more vowels. Marina had raved about Vrbnik and we were not disappointed.

Arriving in Vrbnik we took a wrong turn in the old town, of course, and motored down a narrow street that got narrower by the metre to the point that I was forced to stop. The GPS said go, I said no. I looked around in anguish; it was a long way to reverse out of this narrow situation. Two old ladies in their late eighties approached us and confirmed we’d be fine; they probably did this trip in their Hummer just yesterday. They advised that I fold the rear-view mirrors down after which we passed through the eye if that needle without even one scratch. I was wondering what these old folks must think about these dim-witted tourists.

Iva’s three beautiful young daughters aged eight, six and five were eagerly awaiting our arrival, it was the first time they ever had visitors from South Africa, or Africa for that matter. As we approached you could see the instant disappointment on their faces, their smiles dropped… they were expecting black people. They were so looking forward to seeing and meeting black people for the first time in their lives. I apologized profusely for not being black… such sweet girls.

Iva was a wonderfully chatty landlady and told us all we needed to know to make our two day stay here comfortable and interesting. Many years ago Iva worked as an au pair in the UK so her English was almost faultless. She and her husband make their income from the rooms they rent out as well as from the various patches of land in the area where they grow grapes and feed their sheep. They seem to keep busy throughout the year with not much time left for taking a holiday. Now that the main tourist season was over, they harvest the grapes, then its Christmas, and January the sheep lamb and soon after that the tourist season starts again. Never-ending, but they would not have it any other way.

It was just past 19:00 that we left for Pizzeria Gospoja, a mere 80 metres away from where we stayed. Iva had suggested the place and when I asked whether the pizzas were any good I could hear the honesty in her reply when she said “Yes, very, very good”. Just at that moment the persistent drizzle turned into a pelting rain but armed with umbrellas and all we made it dry-ish to the pizza parlour.

Adri ordered the Sezam and I the Picante pizza. The glass of white wine from the area that Adri had was surprisingly dry for the fruity flavour it presented to the nose and all, it was great. I had a big bottle of Karlovačko, this time I made sure it was not the Pivo Bezalkoholno variety.

The pizzas were presented to us on large plates, they were peering over the side of that plate, perfectly done in a wood burning oven. The pizzas were not sliced, you had to decide how big a chunk you wanted and slice it up yourself. I tried a modest slice, but when I picked that puppy up it bent over backwards from the weight, this thing was loaded. I tucked into it, my mouth filled with the most awesome taste, each ingredient that was purported to be in there made itself known in no uncertain terms. Now let me be clear… this was the best pizza I have ever had in my life, hands down, no question about it. This thing was amazing! This is the standard I will measure pizzas against henceforth… but I’m afraid I will be left wanting.

When complimenting the owner on his “best pizza ever” he accepted the compliment with grace and gratitude, but I suspect he’s heard it many times before.

Now normally Adri and I would finish two pizzas off, this time around we truly stuffed ourselves to the gills but more than half a pizza was still stuffed in that doggy box. I was already looking forward to breakfast.

Wednesday we criss-crossed Krk… With the rain gone we set out to explore Vrbnik first thing in the morning. We walked down to the waterfront where the winery is also located. We checked out the pebbly beach, then took a walk through the old town where we came upon the narrowest street in the world. I’m sure those old ladies from yesterday won’t pass through here in their Hummer anytime soon.

After having our leftover pizza with a cappuccino at the Caffe Bar Dubravka across the road from where we stayed, we sat for a while watching the locals sipping their coffees, them watching some tourists struggle up the street with their luggage, how peaceful.

It was just past 11:00 that we left Vrbnik on the east coast and headed to Njivice on the northwest coast, a lovely little town with a nice waterfront. From there we headed south along the coast through Malinska, Milčetići, Vantačići until we reached Porat. In each little town we’d drive to the centre of town and to its waterfront, stopping in some of the towns to walk the streets and feel the place. Mesmerising.

From Porat we backtracked a bit to the road that heads towards the town of Krk, the main town on the island of Krk. We drove through wonderfully green countryside and reached Krk at no time at all, the villages and towns here are in close proximity to each other.

Krk has a lovely waterfront and we quickly got comfortable at the Konoba Corsaro Restaurant with a cappuccino and a beer. The sun was shining in all its splendour; it was a beautiful day to be out. We watched as a yacht slowly inched its way into the harbour, stopped, checked around for a parking space and, having finally decided on a spot, ever so gently started to back up towards the quay. Someone on the hard handed them the lazy line which they tied to the cleat at the bow of the boat, stern lines were passed to the man on the quay and in no time they were securely tied. I guessed the crew and captain could not wait to break out their gins and tonic. Oh what wonderful sailing memories that brought back.

After our drinks were depleted we moseyed back to the old town of Krk which turned out to be a wonderfully polished affair, well maintained buildings and walkways with a myriad of little shops dotting those very same walkways; a truly pleasant experience.

As we completed our walk Adri chanced her luck with a “There are two churches that I just have to see before we leave…” I have seen and been into so many churches over the last few years, but this one broke this camel’s back. I made my misgivings known with a “Do we have to, I’m all churched out”. I think Adri understood but still insisted that we give these a visit. Now I am even more churched out.

We would have loved to have spent more time in Krk town but it was getting late and we still had places to go. Our next destination was Punat which has a large marina with a really pretty waterfront. We drove through it, marvelling at it all, but there was now no time to slow down, we had one more stop to make for the day.

We drove all the way to the southernmost outpost on the island to a town called Baška, we did not know what to expect, but we were most pleasantly surprised. As we neared the town from up high in the mountains we could make out the bare white limestone hills of the northern shore of Prvic Island, beautiful in it bareness.

Baška quickly crept into the inner reaches of our hearts. It has a most pleasant waterfront with lovely restaurants and shops going on seemingly forever. Wow, this is truly a place I would want to spend more time at, but it was getting dark and late, we did not even have time for a beer… we certainly will come back here again sometime.

Back in Vrbnik we went back to Pizzeria Gospoja for a pizza dinner, we had to be certain that they kept to the high standards they had instilled in us. We got chatting to a German couple who was in town… without prompting they declared that they had just had the best pizzas ever… as expected, we were not alone in our praise for these pizzas.

Last night we went to bed tired, we woke up tired, it was time to take a breather. On Tuesday I said “I could not wait to return one day” to the east coast of Istria, so we decided that one day would be today, and that was where we were going to take our breather. As they say, there is no better time than the present.

We got a reasonably early start on Thursday and after loading the car we rang the bell to return the keys. The bell went unanswered. We left the keys in the door and went up the road for our kick of coffee at Caffe Bar Dubravka, naturally. Connected to the internet with strong cappuccino at the ready and leftover pizza from last night in hand, life was better than good… and this was how our landlady found us.

We noticed a harassed looking Iva pounding up and down the streets. We motioned her over to join us for a coffee. The relief on her face was palpable. Fact is, she was frantically searching for us around town for good reason… we had apparently not yet paid her! When booking through booking.com one supplies credit card details and this is always taken to automatically effect payment of the room. Unbeknownst to us, Iva does not have a credit card facility and thus expected cash payment. Oops, nearly got away with that one!

We sat at the coffee shop chatting away with Iva long after we had planned to leave; Emma and Martha, two of her daughters, joined us on their way back from school. It was not yet that late, school was out early. Iva told us about the trials and tribulations with booking.com, we learned about how difficult it was to build a house in Croatia, even for locals, we learned more about her family, we really had a most enjoyable time. But, we had to press on, we had to rest.

We arrived back in the Istria region’s east coast just past 13:00 and checked into our hotel situated just south of Lovran. The room we chose had the most awesome sea view, even though it was cloudy, it was incredible, the water flat as a pancake with a fishing boat silently sailing upon it in the distance, creating a faint ripple as she went. This was bliss.

We took a power nap, or rather an hour nap, then drove to Lovran to purchase supper at the Konzum supermarket. We did not dare go out for supper, we had to utilise this sea view to its full potential. After supper and a beer and a glass of cheap white wine we sat there contemplating, nothing in particular, just contemplating, staring out onto that wonderful sea below us. I could not help but think that this was about as perfect as a sea view can get, the perfect distance and elevation from the sea. Yes, I could certainly live here, in a place with exactly this view!

I could not find any English news channels amongst the multitude of available channels so commanded up the AppleTV and watched Sky News. Not sure whether you ever watched Sky News but really, their unmanned weather forecasts that run again and again, over and over with the insanely and incredibly irritating vomit inducing jingle that goes on and on and…and they’ve had this tune for as long as I can remember. Wow, this stuff is soul scratching, soul numbing, soul destroying… take a listen below…

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