Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Trstenik back to Split

...Part 3 the Final Installment.

After walking the streets of Dubrovnik in search of an elusive Samsung battery charger part, Mills and I eventually concluded that the salesman had lied to us. Samsung is NOT widely available globally. Every camera shop had Olympus, Sony and Canon. Of course, we would’ve made our lives so much easier by not misplacing the actual battery part in the first place – but that’s another story entirely.

The camera went flat and I was forced to either commit each place to memory (which meant I was actually paying attention instead of snapping away like a happy Jappy), or I stole other people’s cameras… some may be in for a surprise when they view their pics.

It was also around this time of the week that the Pirates of the Adriatic started to come into play… slowly but surely we were ‘procuring’ more lilos from the surrounding boats each night. Whether or not this had anything to do with the fact that our boat had the largest number of Africans on it is not up for discussion. Stopping at every new spot to swim, we’d happily wave at our fellow travellers while they stood on their boats, hands on hips, trying to figure out whether they had a legal standing on international waters.

Our next stop after Dubrovnik was Trstenik. This was another remote island with a grand total of 3 restaurants playing host to our armada of boats. This was also the island where I had my first taste of lobster. First I got to see the poor critter flailing its feelers like an orchestra conductor as the restaurateur prodded it to prove just how fresh it was… but we didn’t let that put us off.

Goddamn, that is some good pink flesh. I only got half a mouthful because technically it was Corporate Whore’s meal and technically he was paying a bucketload for it. And technically, I wouldn’t have shared either.

The next day, our captain pulled over for yet another splash around in the tranquil waters. While lowering the ladder (a vital part of my swimming process), he managed to drop it into the ocean. Whoops.

Despite Always assuring us a few days earlier that he couldn’t swim (he refused to swim each time we stopped), he was quick to dive in after the fast-sinking ladder – but to no avail. Much to our amusement, even the captain had to take a dip in an attempt to retrieve the heavy ladder. A few hours – and a few ingenuity awards – later, we had our ladder back and I was able to delicately place my tush in the middle of a floating tube for yet another granny paddle.


More old buildings, more cocktails in the sun, more good seafood. It was indeed a tough holiday. Our waiter for the evening fancied himself as a bit of a David Copperfield. This resulted in Koekie number 2 getting her hand slammed into a pile of squishy butter and me being left sitting with a glass of wine balancing on top of my hands and a teaspoon in my mouth.


As you might have noticed, each island is getting less and less said about it… the memories are fading already! Hvar was the place of pizza, more cocktails, getting lost in the dark on a dingy forest trail and waiting in an empty club until 2am.

It was also the island where I bumped into an old Rhodes mate. We really are all over the place. He’s living in London, has quit his job and is now travelling through Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia and Montenegro for the next month and a half. Of all the 926 islands off Croatia, he found the group of Rhodents sailing the Dalmatian coast. Bizarre.

Our second last night was the night of retaliation. At 6am, I was woken to hear a bunch of loud Australian baboons clambering all over our boat. The sheep-lovers had launched a surprise attack and stolen all our lilos. Every last one – including the arm bands and Eel boy’s waterpolo ball. They left us with no floatation devices. How was I supposed to swim in those conditions??

We tried to swap our only two Australians on the boat in return for some of the lilos, but the bandits weren’t interested. And they could outrun us, because we were the chugboat of the group. Damn convicts.

Back to Split and Diocletian’s Palace to celebrate the Munchkin’s 21st (she turned 21 on the 7th of the 7th 2007. 7x7x7 = 21. Get it?) Our evening of cocktails ended at an unenthusiastic Christian concert. We think.

To sum it up:

Speedos and nudity (viewing, not doing)
Good company

Good holiday.


Pic1: random Croatian flag
Pic2: Trstenik by moonlight
Pic3: Lobster - after squealing and before being devoured
Pic4: Korcula
Pic5: Hvar at sunset
Pic6: One of the many swan dives


Peaches said...

Awesome, awesome, awesome!

So jealous Koeksuster!!

fuzzy logic said...

I did the same route just over a month ago - you just made me realise (again) how much I enjoyed that holiday! (and how shitty the weather is here. Damn.)

Ross said...

wow, you crack me up... only you can dream up the antics you manage to achieve, ladder dropping etc...

ps, because I am a nerd, you might wanna check what 7x7x7 actually does equal to, cause it aint 21!

kop said...

Another fine example of your lack of understanding of the mathematical world, stick to telling stories that don't involve numbers!

Koekie said...

Goddamn, no wonder people were looking at me funny when I explained that 7x7x7 thing before... oh well. BA brain.

Genetics said...

Wow, what an awesome holiday Koeks! But where are the photos of the topless bathers?

Koekie said...

Sorry Genetics: by that stage, our camera's batteries had run dead. But if you're really interested, scroll through my postings in June for some pale topless tanning in the North Sea coast...