CROATIA!!

From eye-popping Slovenia, we squeezed back into our car and set sail for the sunny shores of Croatia.

By this stage, it was my 'un-birthday', a tradition which is held very close in our family. So the day was set up for my general enjoyment, with the plan to camp in a beachside campsite and to set ourselves up to have a beach birthday.

The drive took us from lush, verdant forests of Slovenia southeast to the warmer, drier flats of Northern Croatia. The landscape went from being focused on trees, waterfalls and dramatic mountains to stony low hills, bright summer blue sky and equally jewel-blue water of the Adriatic.

The scene of our first few nights' stay was to be a small town called Medulin, which is just south of Pula (in the far North of Croatia). We arrived at our campsite, which turned out to be comprised of an entire peninsula of land, thrusting out into the Adriatic the spaces for camper vans and tent campers. We found ourselves one such small spot for our tent ('the coffin'), fantastically located within 15 meters of a beach (albeit a stony one).

The next morning, we awoke and immediately went for a swim to help us to wake up. Accosting a small, wandering bread-selling man, we came into the possession of some chocolate and apple pastries for breakfast, and set about planning the remainder of my birthday.

Planning on hiring a kayak and paddling around the island and peninsula of our campsite, we were disappointed to find all of the boats already been beset upon by the seemingly avid kayaking Croatians. I was willing to be defeated and to resort to simply swimming and lying around all day. However, my small friend was not to be defeated, and she (accompanied by a grim look of determination) marched me up to a shop which sold inflatable novelty boats. Somewhat overwhelmed with simply the range and grandeur of the inflatable boats on offer, I somehow managed to keep it together and point to a nice orange number.

It was large enough for me by myself, so it was decided that we would both cram ourselves and our bags into its secure inflatable plastic environs, with a view to paddling across a large stretch of water. A few elements hampered our progress, including the element I often encounter whereby I make the mistake of believing that distances are not as large as they actually are (the planned route would have been multiple kilometres), the fact that the crossing was crammed with large boats with large motors and bow waves, and the fact that the boat was incredibly difficult to paddle when two people and a bag are squeezed into it.

Complicating things further was the fact that Nicola was at the front of the boat facing backwards, and that I was in the back of the boat, playing the role of rudder and 'engine room'. The boat sat down quite a bit at the back, and water slipped over into the 'hull' (essentially, onto me). Whenever I required a rest from paddling, I would stick my oar in the water, and Nicola would continue paddling, causing us to spin in tight anti-clockwise circles (putting truth to the homage that 'rowing with one oar' means you're not getting too far).

Eventually, we gave up on our quest and settled instead for paddling a safe distance to a jetty above which a restaurant was set, overlooking the water. This would do for lunch. Once we had negotiated the challenge of dismounting the fair vessel (which I had dubbed the HMAS 'Shithouse'), I looked up to see another boat pulled up to the same jetty as us - it was quite a grand large cruiser, and it looked interesting as a contrast next to ours (a point which was not lost on other bystanders, who couldn't hide their judgemental snickering and pointing).

The rest of the day was beautiful, and was crowned by the consumption of a massive fish platter for dinner!

Following this, our trip took us to Split and Dubrovnik, as we made our way down the Croatian coast. The weather was baking hot as we drove along the coast, and the towns by which we drove gleamed chalky white and steadfast from their perches along the shoreline. It appeared as though rain had not bothered to call by these areas for some months, as though every drop which was meant for Croatia went to Slovenia instead.

As a result, the beach provided a refuge from the heat. The beach also provided us with more than our fair share of exposure to what appears to be a European 'institution' at beaches - toplessness. Rampant would be a word I'd use to describe the frequency with which I observed (shall we say 'mature'? and shall we say 'larger'?) ladies who had bought into the philosophy of 'brown nipples are a MUST'.

I even spotted a curious natural phenomenon (click the link) quite uncommon for these seas… No veterinary intervention could right this grand old queen of the sea, and sadly all seemed lost as I regained enough of my senses to leave the beach.

From Split, we also caught a ferry over to an island for the evening (Hvar Island), which is known for its small old town, its high class visitors (excluding us with our orange boat clearly), and its continuous cropping of olives since pre-biblical times.

Dubrovnik was our final destination, and was the one we had anticipated most keenly based on our pre-trip research. We found a campsite nearby to town, and set aside a full day for the beach and a full day for investigating town and the city walls.

The books and websites were right about the warm water, the beautiful city walls and the intricate old town, and we thoroughly enjoyed our equal doses of both lazing and wandering.

However, what we were failed to be informed of (but what we discovered almost immediately) was the overly high proliferation of 23 year old bogan tradesmen Australians and New Zealanders who fouled the place up. It was just enchanting to hear shouts of 'oi bazza ya dickhead, come over here and lets get pissed' from the top of the city walls at around 3pm. It really did add an extra little bit of something 'special' I simply couldn't get by wandering down a street in Altona Meadows.

It set my mind pondering the causes behind this curious phenomenon. For those who invest belief in the theory that life is all about wading through oceans full of dickheads, Dubrovnik has been turned into your 'holy land'. What has caused this? Croatia has beaches, but so does Australia… Or is it the draw of the views from the ancient city walls, which generously endow the participant walker to take in views of the rust-coloured roofs of houses along visibly 'scribble-like' alleyways, merging into the deep azure blue of the horizon beyond? But no, our good Australian and NZ bogans were more likely to be looking at the inside of the local bars and clubs.

I came to the conclusion that it must have been on an episode of Getaway. Perhaps Catriona Rowntree sipped lemonade at an overpriced tourist cafe on the walls and spat out some quirky pun such as 'talk about living the high life'. Perhaps she then pretended to 'go out' at one of the town's 'hip and happening' night spots. I'm not sure, but I do know that I do not like Catriona Rowntree. Not one bit. But I digress.

The other somewhat disappointing part of Dubrovnik was the swarm of tourist outlets which appear to have popped up of late and a noted lack of friendliness among the local people (who no doubt also love the proliferation of deadhead southern hemisphere louts), who see tourists as a drain rather than an opportunity to impress. Prices here were not as cheap as they once were, as tourist operators have not been slow in realising the depth of wallets of Electricians from Shepparton, out to cause some mischief in an exotic location.

Regardless of this, I did manage to set aside my introspective wonder and got to enjoying a place which is set up for visitor enjoyment - the seafood was good, the beer cold and the weather beautifully (and non-sunburningly) warm.

Key activities on the trip…

• Beach hopping between Pula (Medulin) in the north, Split, Hvar Island and Dubrovnik
• Taking in the mix of beautiful ancient architecture and stunning beaches
• Trying to avert my eyes from the beach scenery

The people…

This is where the whole 'Croatia' thing gets interesting…

I have read a bit on the history of Croatia through the days of Yugoslavia, its strained (well, not just strained but downright fractured) relations with Serbia as a result, and the legacy of those days. Croatia WAS in a very politically oppressed situation, forced to rely on a Government itself reliant on an autocratic and tyrannical leader (Colonel Tito) as well as the funds generated by the group of nations' only economic powerhouse, Slovenia.

They must have been dark days indeed when, after military oppression of some zones of Croatia which had tried to break away from Yugoslavia, member states (Serbia and Montenegro, Bosnia Herzegovina, Slovenia and Croatia) began talks of more broad separation. And it was the breach of trust and eventual turning on each other in bloody wars and genocide during these times which has driven the wedge in relations between all member countries, but specifically Croatia and Serbia. It gave rise to notable figures such as Slobodan Milosevic, who was only ousted from Serbian Government in 2001 and was only tried in the years since then by the War Tribunal.

As such these events still quite raw and not smoothed by the effects of the good old sands of time.

So the anger among Croatians is still reasonably palpable. The 'passive' part of 'passive aggressive' is wafer thin for Croatians, and you can just sense a simmering depth of emotion behind the eyes of most you meet with. It certainly explains a lot about why the Serbs and the Croats have been known to still fight at the Australian Open Tennis - it's as though they haven't got it all out of their system.

To be honest, it doesn't feel great (and isn't rewarding to) get beyond basic greetings and simple chatter with these folk, who no doubt have had it tough in the very recent past. I'm not saying it's not completely understandable why this is the case, just that it's uncomfortable that it is so.

Sometimes you get a false impression of a place which has come through tough times - our journeys through the Baltic states, to Hungary, to Slovenia, the Czech Republic and even to Poland told us that. The presence of tourist stalls and polished attractions can sometimes blur your view. And no doubt each of these places have come so far from their darkest hours.

I've learnt to judge a place more by my observations of its people (which is something I can't help but do essentially all of the time), and for me, this gave a much deeper view of Croatia than I think would be reported on Getaway.

Highlights…

• Lazing about on beaches can never be bad, and I even managed to get my pasty white office skin up to a 'stucco' colour, which I'm rather pleased with
• Acquisition of a sea-going vessel, the HMAS 'Shithouse' which is as we speak two-thirds deflated in the back of the 'Blue Bolt', accompanied by its two oars. Such daring and brash tales can be told of its destiny-led sojourns across the seas, the pirates and scallywags it encountered and the brave but limited crew at its helm.
• Taking in the Old Towns, especially Dubrovnik which was simply beautiful. To look down on children playing street football amongst a depth of rust-red roofs and sand-coloured walls was quite amazing. Pula was also highly underrated, with a colosseum-style building which although not as big as the colosseum was every bit as well preserved.
• Winning the footy tipping comp I had going with a Richmond supporters forum - 125 tips is nothing to sneeze at for someone overseas and who forgot to enter tips for 2 rounds. I had a celebratory pint on the beach at Dubrovnik to celebrate.

Lowlights…

• The bogans - seriously, just stay in Cranbourne.
• The visibly negative affect of tourists on prices, prevalence of tourist crap-selling stalls and prices.

In summary…

The last thing I want to do is to seem harsh on Croatia - it certainly does provide a mix of beautiful and unique old town architecture and crystal clear and warm blue water. For a beachside holiday in a continental Europe which does tend to want for nice beachside locales, it is certainly idyllic.

Our time there gave us a chance to unwind and prepare for what was to be a frantic Italy.

I suppose the issue we found with Dubrovnik may be more with knowing what the place must have been like even 5 years ago. And that perhaps the charm of recent years has begun to wear and fade in the baking Adriatic sunlight, as the tiring influence of unappreciative and idiotic tourists has taken its toll.

I would liken it to…

A party pie.

It's in general really bloody hot, but you can find quite a nice flavour both in the interior and the fringe areas. You generally find relief from the heat by sticking to the pastry (read: beaches), but you never really know what you're going to get with the filling (the people and the tourists). It's not always pretty to ask too many questions about what's in there or you could find out all to well about the filling.