Layla (Ploče - Mostar, Bosnia & Herzegovina, - Korčula, Croatia)

Hello, dear reader, now where did I leave you? Ah, yes, the "traditional Croatian dinner".What to say? No surprises for guessing meat and potatoes. The traditional beef broth to commence the meal contained alphabet noodles. I kid you not. Not the handmade pasta we had a few days ago. The main was slow cooked lamb and potatoes, oh, and I think there was one lonely carrot on the platter. Dessert was chocolate cake.  

The physical backdrop to this inauspicious meal was a weird decor of a statue made out of oversized lime green crocs (yes those shoes), juxtaposed with religious shrines, a crucifix and a shop mannequin dressed like a traditional Croatian. The sound backdrop was some live entertainment  by a man on a keyboard who eventually decided to give the live part away and resorted to a playlist that featured YMCA, Sweet Caroline (so good, so good, so good, um no), the Macarena and some ABBA to cap it all off.

I will be suggesting to APT that this meal was a) superfluous, given we'd visited Radošic Village, b) inferior to the other traditional fare, and c) not worth the drive. If the intention was to give the chef the night off, we would have been better eating at a restaurant in town.

As I said in the last post, we ended up in Ploče because of the rain. We had over 60 mm in a day and the rising river level meant the ship would not be able to pass under the bridge to get upriver to Opuzen. While Ploče was industrial, there were parts that were quite pretty, overlooking the bay beyond the working port area.

The rain continued in the morning although it was intermittent and less heavy. It followed us all the way to Mostar in Bosnia and Herzegovina; a trip that was defined by heavy rain, a rock fall on one section of road and customs clearance. We needed to have our passports stamped as we left Croatia. As Nora, our Cruise Director organised this, we sat and waited on the bus for over 30 minutes. About 500 metres down the road we stopped to have our passports processed once again, for entry into Bosnia and Herzegovina. They were much more efficient and only soaked up 15 minutes. Apparently we went the back way to a smaller customs outpost because they were "nicer". I can't imagine what the main customs stop on the highway would be like.

The drive saw us travelling near Medjugorje, a Catholic pilgrimage site where some girl had a vision that entailed a chat with Mary. It also took us to the top of the mountain and down the other side, the drive, not the vision. The road was very narrow with a lot of switchbacks and a rail that would not stop a car going over the sheer edge, let alone a bus. Despite our driver's excellent skills, I was not comfortable.

Some buildings are still waiting for renovation.

It was still raining as we arrived in Mostar, home to the famous old bridge where the diving competition is held. Made famous in Australia by Hamish and Andy on one of their gap year programs, I think. The bridge links the two sides of the old town across the Neretva River and made international news when it was destroyed during the Balkan War in 1993.  It has subsequently been rebuilt with limestone from the original source.

The old bridge.

We all donned our protective gear to avoid the rain and then it promptly stopped. Nice. We were able to walk to the bridge with our guide without umbrellas. As with many of the areas we have visited, the limestone surface of the bridge proved a challenge to walk on comfortably, not just because of the potential to slip but because of the incredible numbers of tourists. It was packed and the moronic selfie brigade did not help the situation. 

Tourist shop in the old town.

The shops that lined the streets of the old town sold aladdin style oil lamps, jewellery and copper items like cups and Turkish coffee requisites. There were also cafés and restaurants. Sadly, no Pandora. I know, Bosnia and Herzegovina will go unrecognised on the Jayne's bracelet. There are also a number of mosques as well as the usual array of churches. About 50 % of B & H's population is Muslim.

Political comment on the flood channel.

The bridge is quite an attraction and it was impossible to find a café with a free table in the shade. After we'd walked both ends of town, we headed back towards the Cathedral and the bus to find a café where we could sit in relative peace and enjoy an espresso.

The bullet riddled side wall of café building.

The drive to Mostar should have taken around 80 minutes, plus time at the customs check. The return journey was a little quicker with time at the border crossing halved in Bosnia and Herzegovina and reduced to 20 minutes in Croatia.

The tower on the bridge.

On the way back, boxes of Turkish Delight were passed around, in case we were unable to last till our next meal time. We perused our passports since they had actually been stamped, unlike other countries we have visited. Jayne had 3 stamps indicating the passage to and from but mine only had two stamps - would this mean I would be recorded as overstaying my welcome in Bosnia and Herzegovina so I could never return? I inquired of our cruise director if this omission was a problem. She maintained no because the customs officer chose only to stamp some passports. Weird.

The mosque at the end of the old town.

By the time we reached Ploče the rain had gone completely and blue sky had returned. Lunch today was actually dinner because we had a late engagement this evening. The sailing today was smoother than yesterday and the Captain set a course for Korčula. 

The view as we docked in Korčula.

Korčula is both the name of the town we visited as well as the island. It is one of those special places, as was Rovinj, you just feel comfortable as soon as you arrive. Like the other towns it has an interesting history of invasion and occupation and the old town is a fortress. Originally it had twelve towers, there are seven remaining.

The Cathedral Tower in the distance.

Our engagement tonight was to view the traditional sword dancing, Moreska. Due to the recent weather, the performance had been moved indoors. Now I have seen this previously on travel programs, or so I thought. We were welcomed into a theatre. There were several short swords on the floor near the performance space. Interesting. Crowd participation perhaps? Prior to the commencement, however, we were asked to vacate the front row seats.The curtains parted to reveal an orchestra; that was unexpected.

The scene opened with a young girl in chains and an angry man wearing a crown shouting at her. She was apparently the King's fiancé. The couple were soon joined by other people, one tribe dressed in red, the other in black. Without Google translator, it appeared to be a Romeo and Juliet situation. The crown wearing man on the red team wanted the girl and the man in black did not want her to go, hence the chains.

The subject of the sword dance.

Lots of sword interplay then occurred until the red team triumphed and he got the girl. The sword dance, although obviously choreographed, was no simple disco dance. The short swords were very heavy and each participant carried two of them. The pace was fast and at times furious and sparks flew, literally, from the swords. The performance lasted around 30 minutes or so, although I believe had John Wick been there, it would have over in 30 seconds. Tops.

Is it really a fight if you're dancing?

We wandered past numerous restaurants and boutiques as we returned to the ship for dinner. Yep more food. I'd already decided I wasn't eating, and then ... spring rolls, crumbed prawns in sweet chilli sauce. I caved in. Delicious.

Sunset in Korčula.

In the morning, talk turned to the ship that was moored next to us. It was fancy and not quite as big as our ship. I'd watched as one of the crew delivered a very large lobster to their chef last evening.  It turns out that Va Bene is owned by Eric Clapton. He purchased it in 2005 for £9 million before shelling out more money for a refit. It is available for charter, up to €160,000 per week plus VAT in peak season. Interested? It does sleep 12 people if you need to defray costs a little.

The title today was a no brainer, Layla by Derek and the Dominos, probably one of Eric Clapton's best known songs, written about George Harrison's wife Pattie Boyd.

The Golden Stairs.

Anyway, back on land many of the old buildings, even a church or two have been repurposed into museums and restaurants and bars. There is a relaxed atmosphere and there are beautiful views over the water. There are numerous places to stop, drink and enjoy the view or people watch.

The view from the wall.

The streets are narrow but set out like the skeleton of a fish, with a central street, on one side run narrow straight streets and on the opposite side run narrow curved streets. The curvature is to mitigate the strength of the strong Bora winds as they blow in. The opposite side allowed the summer breeze to blow in cooling the area and removing any unsavoury smells from the fishing area. There is a Cathedral that tops the old town with a bell tower that you can climb if you are energetic enough. I'm sure the view would have been worth it, but I decided to pass this time.

One of the many towers in the old town wall.

Korčula also claims to be the birthplace of Marco Polo even though Venice also makes this assertion. Part of the tour included a wander past his reported house. 

The walking tour over, we found a café and settled into a couple of chairs in the shade and enjoyed an espresso and some people watching. Caffeine need satisfied, we explored some parts of the old town we hadn't covered in our walk before returning to the ship.

We sailed for the rest of the morning, had lunch and then pulled into the lee of a small island for a swim. It was the best yet. I'm unsure if the water was warmer, but many people commented on how good it was. It was obviously a popular spot with 10 other boats in the area. The water was clear, the sea floor was covered in sea grass, there were a few fish, less than we've seen and some sea urchins.

Swim over, we sailed for our next destination Šipan.

Until tomorrow.

Rock Lobster (Split - Omis - Makarska - Bol - Ploče)

We were on board overnight in Split, Croatia's second largest city, before boarding a coach for an hour's drive to the Cetina River. The river is quite picturesque and winds its way through the limestone cliffs. The colours of the water are as intense as the Adriatic Sea and change with the sun and depth of the water.

Amazing engineering.

Upriver before we left the wharf.

The Cetina is quite the playground and, although we were ferried up river, there were many people in canoes. Activities were not just confined to the enjoying the water or fishing from one of the shacks. There was also some serious zipline action on the side of one of the mountains as well as numerous rock climbing cliff faces.

The only shack that was being utilised.

Picture perfect.

There were plenty of large black trout in the water as well as turtles. Coots abounded, many with young, and there was a sole grey heron. The slow boat up the river ended at Radmanove Mlinice or Radman's Mills, established 1772. It is now the site of a restaurant and bar. They are famous for their bread and we were there to try some.

The Grey Heron.

The only turtle that posed for a photo.

Well, that was the plan, dear reader, but the best plans can go awry. Despite our guide having confirmed that we would be able to taste the bread, that did not turn out to be the case. They appeared to be totally focussed on a large group booking (120 people) and would not even allow us to sit at the tables that were not set. We were unceremoniously dispatched to an uncovered area where there were some seats and tables, for drinks only - no food.

From the pier at the mill.

As there was to be no breaking of the bread, I thought an espresso might be in order and walked over to the bar where one of our group had just been served. I was there only a few seconds before a waitress barked something at me in Croatian and walked off. Fortunately Nora, our guide was next me and translated the curt message. "There is only table service here, you are unable to order at the counter", she said. This was on top of the extremely rude 'welcome' we received from one of the other staff. I would not be spending my money here.

Nora continued negotiations to try and obtain the special bread, all to no avail. She was upset, none of the group was concerned. How special can bread really be? To appease us, Nora ordered a round of local spirits. As I have noted previously, they start drinking early in Croatia. Spirits before 11am? Why not. Mine was made from green hazelnuts but all I could really taste was the lemon floating in the glass. Jayne had a cherry schnapps and there was also herbal variety and another I can't remember.

It was pleasant enough sitting in the sun, watching more and more people arrive to be told "no bread for you".  When it was time to walk out to the coach rendezvous, we were amused to see an array of the now infamous bread loaves, sitting on display along a shelf. Really not sure who they were keeping it for but hopefully they were stuck with it all at the end of the day.

The forbidden bread.

We boarded the coach at 12pm and were back on board the ship at 1pm for lunch. We did not return to Split but drove to Makarska, the Croatian Riviera. It was free time in the afternoon so we walked to the beach. The sharp, rocky nature of the shore kept us out of the water; reef shoes were an essential. The boardwalk hugged the shoreline providing many places for people to lie in the sun and bake themselves. We saw many people who would be looking for the aloe vera lotion in the morning. They were as red as cooked lobsters. Hence today's title, Rock Lobster by the B-52s from 1978.

Looking back to the beach.

On the harbour, there were several party boats that looked decidedly overcrowded, with music pumping out across the water for us all to enjoy ... while on the boardwalk, there were many, many men wandering around shirtless, presumably hoping that their (significantly unattractive) naked physiques would attract the nubile young ladies who were also promenading around the foreshore. Definitely the place to be seen. Fully clothed.

They became our dock neighbours for the night.

Dinner tonight was veal tomahawk and was the first major failure. Unfortunately we were at the table closest to the kitchen and the first steaks to table were uncooked closer to the tomahawk bone. After a partly consumed dinner, we walked back into town for a gelato and then retreated from the main strip to the old town behind it. This was obviously where the locals go. It was much quieter and there were numerous restaurants, cafés, gardens and of course, a church.

A statue dedicated to tourists.

Our plans for tomorrow were quite fluid at present because the wind had changed direction and turned into a Jugo or Sirocco. We would be weighing anchor at 6am to get ahead of the weather. Hopefully.

The weather rolling down the mountain at Makarska.

We did indeed set sail at 6am. One of the ships beside us started their pumps at 4am and I was well aware of our sailors making preparations at 5am. The wind was already strong and the choppy water enssured we rolled our way toward Bol on the island of Brač.

One of the many statues.

Despite the dire warnings, the conditions were not that bad and shortly after breakfast, we docked. Bol is the home of Zlatni Rat or the Golden Cape. It is purported to be one of the most beautiful beaches on the Mediterranean. Prevailing weather conditions did not do it any favours and we did not see the Golden Cape in its full glory.

A side beach leading up to the Golden Cape.

There is a tourist train from the dock that runs to the cape. We opted to walk the 1800 metres along the boardwalk. The initial area is populated with small market stalls, all selling various products carved from Brač limestone. The limestone that was not used to build any part of the White House in the US, contrary to stories related by every guide.

Wine storage at a restaurant on the boardwalk.

Further along the boardwalk there were numerous hotels and restaurants. I imagine it would be packed during peak season. As we made our way toward the beach, we passed Darrell Eastlake (no photo, sorry) an Australian TV presenter and the man most responsible for the current style of football commentary. (And so, Apparently Darrell Eastlake is no longer with us. Whoever it was certainly looked like him. Thank you eagle-eyed reader for letting me know).

A Chaff Finch.

You may remember the cat man of Rovinj, dear reader. He would be out of a job here as the restaurant staff leave food out for the cats. There were cats everywhere you looked. Regardless of this there were numerous doves and finches feeding on the ground. I guess the cats were too content to even bother chasing a bird. So much for chasing rats.

The things you see when you don't have a gun.

A European Turtle Dove.

The path to the Cape is popular for walkers and cyclists. There are numerous sculptures, all from Brač limestone. The beach itself is also Brač limestone, but much smaller pieces. It was not showing its best side and the wind ensured that any locals were on the leeward side. The water was still warm and the temperature, out of the wind, was around 24°. I could imagine it in on a still summer's day packed with people who don't know what melanoma means. Baking themselves red raw in the sun, well, cloud.

Ok, so I may have removed a couple of people.

As European beaches go, it ticked all the boxes. There were beach beds with umbrellas, comfortable chairs, all for hire, a massage suite, café, kids playground (somewhere amongst the trees). I snapped a few photos and returned to the boardwalk where we commenced the journey back to town. The number of people had increased and there were more cafés and stalls open; the cats were still disdainful.

A nice day for a swim.

Back in town we went in search of coffee. We saw a café on the other side of the dock and made a beeline for it. Happily the ship's captain and some of the crew were there. Double win; we know it's ok and the ship can't leave while they are in our sight. The espresso was good and it was a great people watching zone. The waves were smacking against the seawall and spewing upwards, often on to unsuspecting passersby. Excellent viewing until a passing shower forced us to return to the ship.

Incoming!!

The anchor was weighed at 11:30am and our new destination is Ploče, replacing Opuzen because of the forecast storms and resulting rainfall which will cause a significant rise in river levels and preclude us travelling safely under the bridge.

An afternoon of lunch and blogging and reading followed. The Lady Eleganza rocked and rolled her way faithfully toward Polče where we are being picked up and conveyed to our 'traditional Croatian' restaurant.

Until tomorrow.