Day 29. Second time lucky

In June 2008 we did a day trip from Rome and intended to visit Pompeii and Naples. The day did not go according to plan. A strike meant that the Pompeii site was closed and after a trip to Mt Vesuvius we ran out of both time and energy and never made it to Naples. You can read about that day here. We were determined to try again.

We arrived at Pompeii early, checked our bags into our hotel and entered the huge archeological site before 10am. The Roman city captured in time by the volcanic eruptions of 79AD was worth coming back to see. The city was tragically covered with metres of ash and lava and lay buried for fifteen centuries. Exploration and investigation, particularly over the last 250 years, has revealed the size, scope, artistry and humanity of the first century Roman world. Most poignant are the plaster casts of the victims, which have been created by filling the voids in the ash left by human bodies. They represent the exact position of these people at the time of their death. Fountains, temples, villas and shops can all be viewed and compared with contemporary counterparts today.

By 1.20pm we were on a local train and on our way to Naples, Italy’s third largest city. The humble and rather dilapidated local train winds through the outer suburbs of Naples, delivering stunning views of Naples Harbour on our left and Mt Vesuvius on the right. This gritty, bustling and complex city lived up to our expectations. We enjoyed walking down an incredibly narrow street running east to west and dividing the city. Huge crowds of locals create a carnival-like atmosphere. People of all ages are enjoying the sun, the shops and the food on a balmy Saturday afternoon. To get to Naples early we had postponed lunch and that proved to be a good decision. We knew that Naples has a reputation for great pizza and ice- cream but our surprise treat was a different local fast food specialty. From a creatively decorated shop called il Cuoppo we ordered a wicked fry-up of deep fried zucchini, zucchini flowers, dumplings, polenta and ‘potate’ all served in a cardboard cone. We followed a crowd of tourists into a large but rather drab looking church, Gesu Nuove.  We were amazed to see that from the inside the church was one of the finest and most elegant churches we had ever seen. Our day ended with a quick look around the harbour, a tram ride back to the station and a train back to Pompeii.

In 2008 Pompeii and Naples defeated us. Today we returned in triumph, albeit rather weary after 26,000 Fitbit steps (14kms of walking).

Day 28. The road less travelled.

‘What about a walk?’ asked Richard.

‘Why not’ replied Wendy, trustingly.

What Richard had in mind was Il Sentiero degli Dei, a 4km walk from the Amalfi Coast hilltop towns of Agerola to Nocelle.

‘The good news is that the track is mostly downhill’, added Richard, not exactly explaining all the details.  

After a forty minute bus ride from Amalfi, the walk begins in the picturesque town of Agerola about 650 metres above sea level. The purchase of a couple of bread rolls and some prusciutto was Wendy’s clever idea to fuel the walkers. The track was subtly, but quite consistently marked, beginning in the village and then heading out through small farms.

As the walk unfolds the warning on the website, that the track was unsuitable for those suffering with vertigo, begins to make sense. The view is indeed panoramic, breathtaking and quite extraordinary. It is a rocky path, with some uneven steps and although mostly downhill, there are several uphill climbs as well. The track winds around the mountains, slowly descending towards the village of Nocelle.

Il Sentiero degli Dei translates as the ‘Path of the Gods’. The name indicates that even the locals recognise that this track is something very special. We have done many walks in many wonderful places around the world, and this track is definitely amongst the best we have ever enjoyed. Although mystically divine, humans deserve credit for engineering and maintaining the historic path, still used by farmers, woodsmen and shepherds. Vineyards, olive groves, vegetable gardens, chooks, goats and donkeys cling to the almost vertical cliffs with the ingenious use of stone terraces.

Arriving at the town of Nocelle about two hours later the choice is to either catch the bus or walk down the steps to Positano. Walking seems the best option. 1500 steps and 90 minutes later we arrive in the quintessential seaside town of Positano, as the descent was about 450 metres, we enjoy what is possibly the finest ice-cream in the history of hiking.  

On the bus back to Amalfi we can finally enjoy the view from the road, as we are not driving. Ankles, knees and legs feel their advancing age but ‘the road less traveled’ produces the greatest blessing.

Day 27. The roads to Amalfi

Some of the challenges of driving in Italy are the mountains, there are lots of mountains. The roads around and though these mountains show off some pretty amazing Italian engineering. Our drive from the south to the Amalfi Coast is long and mountainous and quite dramatic at the finish.

It is no easy feat to build fast freeways through mountains. The road from Sicily to Naples is stunning. It is a series of tunnels and bridges. A tunnel through a mountain followed by a bridge over a valley, followed by another tunnel through a mountain followed by another huge bridge over a valley. And so it goes for hundreds of kilometres. The tunnels are up to two kilometres long and the bridges are often hundreds of metres high, yet the road barely undulates.

Deciding to detour, off the highway to the seaside for lunch seems like a good idea. The sun is shining, the surf is up and the sand is black. The secondary road adds another couple of hours to an already long trip. The road is good but winds around the mountains and as there are no overtaking lanes so it’s a slow journey stuck behind three very large trucks.

Twenty kilometres from our destination we relax feeling we have almost arrived when we encounter another engineering marvel, The Amalfi Coast Road. Again the problem is the mountains, which literally descend into the sea. The road is carved into the side of the cliff and is incredibly picturesque, apparently. Enjoying the scenery is not an option as we try desperately not to scrape the little brown frog (Citroen C4) on a cliff or a passing car, or both at the same time. It is breathtakingly narrow and includes many blind corners. In theory the speed limit is 30km/h and overtaking is not an option. In practice the cars, vans, trucks and buses are traveling fast and overtaking regularly and aggressively. Cars are parked in non-parking zones, motorcyclists talk on their mobile phones while riding, a group of cyclists take up a whole lane and pedestrians meander along the road, there is no footpath. At one point we are overtaken on a blind corner, a car appears around the bend, we screech to a halt allowing the guy on the wrong side to zoom back into our lane, the driver coming in the other direction is nonchalantly talking on his mobile phone. We age ten years. Strangely, if you are driving cautiously you often get an unmerciful blast on the horn from the car behind, but when someone overtakes on the wrong side and almost causes a head on collision, the response seems to be…respect!

After a long day in the car we make it to Amalfi, which at first glance seems to be worth all the effort. However, if we ever decide to come back… we might catch the bus!.  

           

Day 26. A taste of Sicily.

Sicily is not a travel destination for the faint hearted. It is not the simplest place to get to from the mainland of Italy and is a little undersupplied with infrastructure. It’s reputation for corruption and the mafia does not encourage the timid traveler. Finally, it’s drivers make the mainland drivers seem calm, cautious and civil and that is saying something. Most however would agree that there is one very good reason to make the ferry trip worthwhile... the food.  So this blog is dedicated to a our favourite tastes of Sicily.

Lets begin with pasta. Lunch at a highly recommended trattoria in the backstreets of Taormina is pasta perfection. It begins with a complimentary entrée of bruschetta, rich with tomato and dripping in the finest olive oil. Richard’s main course choice is handmade macaroni, cheese, tomato and eggplant. The macaroni is  about 10 cm long, cooked al dente and the sauce is  rich and smooth with just a hint of pepper. It is  topped with grilled eggplant, breadcrumbs and a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese. Wendy’s choice is fresh ravioli filed with salmon and served in a rich cheese and pistachio sauce. Bread is supplied for cleaning up the plate in true Italian style – but water, as always, is bottled and added to the tab.

In Sicily we are spoilt for choice with desserts, but again it is in the small shops at the edge of town that we find wonderful handmade examples of the local delicacies. Cannoli we have enjoyed in the past from the North Ryde Italian Deli but here the shells are crisper and more like a biscuit, not too sweet and very crunchy. The filling is abundant and sweet and only added after we have ordered. Filling options are pistachio cream, vanilla cream or ricotta cream- what a burden to have to choose.

Another dessert classic in the south is cassata, which we thought meant (like Mr. Pisa Gelato) ice cream. How wrong we were! Traditional Sicilian cassata is a layered sponge cake, filled with a flavorsome, but not too rich, ricotta cream and topped with green marzipan icing and a glazed cherry. We are encouraged to try a modern adaption of the traditional cassata. It is more like a ricotta cake with a firm base and just the hint of rum.  All these desserts are made locally and cost only a couple of euro ($3 AUD).

We also enjoy having a kitchen at our hostel and dine like kings with food from the vegetable barrow man and the local supermarket for about $8 AUD.  Our creative menu is a spiraled Italian sausage, frozen vegetable patties, a fresh salad of tomato, lettuce, red cabbage and grated carrot and of course pane di casa. Squisito!

           

Day 25. By faith not by sight.

One of the world’s great views is afforded to the residents and visitors of the elevated Sicilian town of Taormina. Below is the rugged and yet beautiful Ionian Sea. In the distance is the mainland of Italy. Inland is the ferocious and tempestuous Mt Etna, a live volcano, towering more than 3000 metres above the town. We accept the wonder of this view by faith because today a cloud has literally descended on the town and the only sight we have is of a rather moody mist.

Even by faith Taormina is an interesting place. A surprisingly busy old town is bustling with locals and tourists. One of the largest Greek theatres in the world is still in use (in the summer).  While some streets do house the sort of tourist kitsch to be avoided at all costs, there are also many shops exhibiting local, traditional and hand made treasures. The city is busy with locals and families going about their business. Richard enjoys kicking a soccer ball in the Piazza with some local kids, while their mother worries that the ball might end up in a restaurant. As we wonder through the back streets on a leisurely afternoon walk we watch in amazement as a local man drops his daughter off for her dance class. The father accelerates down a steep, narrow, one-way street for about 400 meters …backwards… displaying incredible precision and speed.

Our accommodation is the only hostel in town. We have our own trendy little studio apartment- complete with an ensuite and kitchen. We meet a group of middle aged English tourists who are shocked that we are staying in a hostel, but at $75 AUD a night and with the manager Francesco giving us great advice about things to do and the best places to buy our food we are convinced by sight and not just faith that Taormina and its hostel are great options.

Day 24. Was that a ship or a sheep?

St Peter considered it a good place for stopover (legend has it) and Cicero described it as his favourite beach in the entire Roman Empire, so we thought Pizzo would make a good place to break our journey on the way to Sicily. We arrived at Pizzo to find the old city perched like a bird’s nest on top of the cliff overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea with…wait for it…a white sandy beach. A rare thing in Italy.

Problem Number 1: our accommodation address did not appear to exist on our Navlady’s map, nor on the town map we found in the main square.

Problem Number 2: attempting to negotiate a narrow cobbled street in the old town. Fortunately an old man gave us the cutting your throat charade indicating we were actually going the wrong way up a one-way street.

Problem Number 3: trying to back out without hitting numerous pot plants, café tables or a huge white Mercedes 4WD.

Our first bit of good luck was showing the address of our accommodation to an ice-cream seller in the main Piazza. After a great deal of hand waving he indicated (Richard heard) that we needed  to drive down the hill as our B&B was near a restaurant built in the shape of a ship. Wendy, however believed the same conversation was indicating that the B&B was near a restaurant in the shape of a sheep. ‘Ship’ or ‘sheep’ sound very similar when chatting with a very enthusiastic man dressed in an ice cream jacket (S2s for Navy friends) with English about as good as our Italian. Getting down the hill was a challenge of significant driving dexterity and was only achieved, on a couple of tight spots, by folding in the mirrors to avoid contact with parked cars or brick walls.

Finally, we found our very funky B&B ($88 a night) which was right next to a restaurant called La Nave formed in the shape of a ship (not a sheep). Cicero was right, Pizzo is an unusual, timeworn but loveable Italian seaside city.

Of course, we went back to thank the ice-cream seller by purchasing two servings of the wicked local ice-cream delicacy – tartufo.

Day 23. Cone shaped tax havens.

After three weeks in Europe the inevitable happened…it rained! We have been incredibly blessed by great weather to date, so we try not to let a little drizzle slow us down…until it becomes a sodden gale.

We get up early and walk around Locorotondo as the town is beginning to stir and the Sunday church bells call people to worship. With its white limestone walls and smooth ivory-coloured stone streets we understand why Lonely Planet described Locorotondo as one of the prettiest towns in Italy. We are staying in a ‘diffused hotel’, a hotel with lots of rooms spread throughout the old city. Our room has stone walls, floor and ceiling and this along with the kitchen is typical of the stone buildings that make up the town. It comes with a stone balcony as a bonus.

The other unusual feature of this area are the gnome like Trulli homes, dry stone walled houses with cone-shaped stone roofs. In the day (700 years or so ago) the way to beat the land tax (actually a house tax) was to dismantle your dry stone hut when the taxman came to town, only to reassemble it again after he had left town. Some of the trulli are now used for shops, restaurants and accommodation but many are still family homes. These houses dot the rural landscape and are often surrounded by fields divided by beautiful dry stone walls.

The other big achievement of today is that Richard (using only Italian) successfully booked a table at a ristorante.  On a very wet, chilly night we are glad we had booked because we are the only people in the restaurant and we guess that they may not have bothered opening up had we not made the reservation. We feel a bit guilty, but the family is very friendly and sits down to eat their own meal as we are finishing ours. Needless to say the service is very quick (a five course degustation menu in less than ninety minutes) and the food is the best we have eaten in Italy.

Day 22. Saved by Pizza

Independent travel has many advantages, but things don’t always go exactly to plan. Today we planned to drive from the back of the knee of Italy (Abruzzo) to the top of the heel of the boot (Puglia). That should take 3-4 hours. If you look carefully at a map of Italy there is a section above the heel, that some refer to as the spur. This section includes a national park and some wonderful coastal vistas. So why not add that little section to our itinerary, we reasoned – it can’t be that far.

Unfortunately, it was a very slow and winding road for 200 km. It meant our 3-4 hours of driving became about 8 hours. We did see a couple of beautiful coastal cities (Peschici and Vieste) but Italy is not big on lookouts or picnic areas so there were not many opportunities to stop and take in the view.

Along the way we also saw some of Italy’s seedier side. Highway prostitutes flaunting their scantily clothed bodies at midday, on a road where cars are doing at least 110km/h, defies explanation and logic. Poker machines and their male patrons next to the grotty toilets in petrol station don’t make for a pleasant stop. Piles of garbage strewn along the beaches and visual pollution on a grand scale are not endearing.

We thought things had improved when, after winding around narrow roads for hours, our Navlady led us onto a different road. It looked wide and straight and we picked up a bit of speed until a road sign indicated that the road was narrowing. Suddenly we hit a section of unfinished road covered with a type of very coarse road base basically made up of huge rocks and boulders. Five kilometres driving over that type of surface could have easily penetrated our delicate French tyres. Finally we came to the end and another sign indicated that the road was closed. We proceeded hesitantly and unexpectedly found that this section of the road was actually finished. We traveled happily for the next 10kms until suddenly without warning the road turned into a virtual goat track. Eventually we returned to a reasonable road and were able to make some good progress towards our destination.

 

Despite the set backs and the long day in the car, the day was saved by two terrific pizzas when we arrived in Locorotondo. Richard had a white pizza – cheese, sausage and cabbage (no tomato). Bellisimo! Wendy had a bread pizza – base cooked then drizzled with local olive oil and sprinkled with salt before cherry tomatoes, slices of mozzarella cheese and basil added. Equisito

Day 21. 100 inches of snow

In the first couple of draft plans for this trip we intended to stay in the mountain village of Pescocostanzo. We changed our minds after we received an email from the hotel, which reminded us to carry snow chains. After a bit more research we realized that the town’s elevation was 1440 metres, so we abandoned the historic mountain town and decided to stay somewhere further down the slopes. Last week, when we were in Croatia, we saw a BBC World Service weather update reporting that Italy had received a huge amount of snow and a group of towns, including Pescocostanzo, had broken the existing record for the greatest amount of snow to fall in the shortest period of time. 100 inches (2.5 m) of snow had fallen in eighteen hours. We were relieved that we had decided to abandon the mountain village.

From the slopes of Abruzzo we bravely decided to go for a drive towards the mountains, in fact towards Pescocostanzo, to see how far we could get. With the sun out and the temperature a balmy 16 degrees we thought that we might get half way. To our enormous surprise we traveled on dry roads, periodically lined by snow, to a sunny and rather beautiful Pensocostanzo arriving at about 1.00pm.

Our only disappointment was that the town was almost deserted. Tourists had obviously read the weather reports and stayed away. Being 1pm the locals had all fled to their homes for their daily siesta. Every shop was closed and the only people we met were an academic couple from Oxford who were in town to do a bit of snowshoe walking. Although the roads were clear, the parks were piled with snow. We ate our prepacked lunch at the only dry seat we could find, across the road from a park covered in at least 60 cms of snow.

Driving back to Limiti we drove around the edge of the Majella National Park, on a rather precarious road. The road clung to the side of the mountain with a steep drop descending into the valley below. It was the type of road that made the Galston Gorge (north-west of Sydney) look like a four lane highway. Exhilarating, picturesque and slightly crazy. Not a bad description of Italy really!

Day 20. Grazie Silvia

Abruzzo is a region of Italy that came to our attention as a result of Silvia Collaca’s cooking show, Made in Italy, broadcast on SBS. Just a few hours drive west of Rome, Abruzzo is a popular holiday destination for Italians. It is an area of great contrasts. There is an alpine region famous for its ski slopes and hiking in the summer. To the east, on the Adriatic, there is a coastal area popular with beachgoers. We chose to stay on the slopes between the mountains and the coast in a tiny rural village called Limiti, near Palombaro, Cheiti, where the first buds of spring are evident. 

Surrounded by grapevines, olive groves and green fields, dotted with charming, crumbling, old stone villas and sitting beneath huge snowy mountains, the view from every window is amazing.

Exploring the region is a little complicated as a result of the heavy rain and snow that preceded our visit. In Australia, after rain, our country roads tend to turn into a series of potholes. In this region the roads actually subside, often closing half of the road or the whole road altogether. Driving on the wrong side of the road is made even more complicated when half the road has been washed down the slope.

 The fascinating old towns and cities tend to be perched high on top of ridges, slopes and mountains. The most unique is Pennapiedimonte. The town is built literally into the side of a huge mountain. Many of the dwellings are actually caves, which have been extended and converted into stone houses. There are quite a few for sale and apparently you can pick up a habitable two-bedroom cave/villa for as little as 17 000 Euro. The views are great but employment options, public transport and easy access to shops, schools and healthcare might be a bit of a challenge.

Breathing the clean rural air, greeting the friendly locals with our poor Italian and walking around the charming village laneways at dusk are some of the many joys of discovering Abruzzo. Grazie Silvia! 

Day 19. Only in Italy

As a couple we share many similar tastes, forged through three decades of marriage. One unusual one is that we generally drink tea and we don’t normally bother with coffee. We are not opposed to coffee…we just prefer tea. However, as a result of this visit to Italy we are reconsidering our relationship with coffee.

After doing some research, we are attempting to comply with some of the important rules of Italian coffee etiquette. We order our cappuccino in the morning, well before the clock strikes midday (to drink a coffee with milk after midday is considered inappropriate by Italians). We follow the local custom of having our coffee standing up at the bar, where it is much cheaper than if we sat down. We remember to pay only after we have finished our coffee. There are no paper cups with plastic lids, and certainly no calling out of your name. The barista simply serves the coffee, in a small china cup placed on a saucer. We do not specify a size, as there is only one size available. The cups are much smaller than at home – with only one shot of coffee and much less milk. The whole exercise is over in minutes, as the coffee temperature is warm so that you can drink it quickly, and be on your way. When you add in a cornetto, a small crescent shaped non-crumbly pastry filled with dark chocolate, morning tea (or should we say morning coffee) is an absolute delight.

The total cost of duo cappuccino and uno cornetto is less than 3 euro, which is about the same as one coffee and no pastry in Australia. So in Italy we do as the Italians do.

Next time someone at home questions our tea preference with the incredulous, ‘You don’t drink coffee?’, we will now reply, ‘We do drink coffee…but only in Italy’.

Day 18. All at sea.

One tricky aspect of planning our trip was the uncertainty about how we were going to get from Croatia to Italy. Plan A was to catch a car ferry. There were, however, numerous problems. We were warned repeatedly that ferries operate less frequently, or maybe not at all, in the off-season. At best, they only sail once or twice a week. We had to plan our trip around a rather old, and slightly dodgy Croatian ferry website and then buy a ticket once we arrived on the ground. We did have a plan B (drive right around the top of the Adriatic Sea from Croatia to Central Italy) but that would have been a very long drive.

In the end, everything went perfectly to plan. We were able to secure tickets for ourselves, and the car, on the date we wanted, once we arrived in Europe. We arrived at the ferry port with two hours to spare, ready to drive onto the Marko Polo a Jadrolinija Ferry, leaving at 8pm. We expected the ship to be ‘a roll on/roll off’ ferry.  In fact it was a ‘back on/drive off’ ferry. We waited at the front of the car line for ninety minutes and watched as about twenty full sized semi-trailers backed into the ship –with only centimetres of room at the top and sides. We were full of admiration for the backing skills of the drivers. Finally our turn came and with lots of hand movements and shouting in Croatian from the traffic wardens, Richard backed the little brown frog (Citroen C4) between a truck and a bulkhead. The car was finally secured safely into the big white ship.

The ship was built in 1973 and weighed in at 10154 gross tons – it was 128 m long with a breadth of 19.6m. The sea was, by Richard’s estimate, sea state 1-2 (smooth wavelets 0.1-0.5 metres) and the ride was very smooth. We enjoyed a small cabin, a hearty dinner, a free breakfast and all in all a very pleasant trip. With a good night’s sleep, the eleven-hour voyage from Split (Croatia) to Ancona (Italy) was over in a flash and we are now ready to continue the rest of our adventure, basically doing a loop around the boot (ie Italy).  

Wendy spent several anxious years supporting her sea going children when they served with OM Ships. She continues to support Richard and son Peter in their maritime careers. Wendy’s maiden overnight voyage indicates her sea legs are reliable and all bodes well for future adventures at sea.

             

Day 17. A drowned valley with a baroque feel.

In 2004 our eldest son Tim did a year of voluntary service on the book ship MV Doulos. He joined the ship in Kotor, Montenegro. Today as we visit this beautiful place, we imagine how amazing it must have seemed to an18 year old Aussie on his first overseas adventure.

The walled old city is well described as a smaller version of Dubrovnik. Like Dubrovnik, Kotor has a fort positioned above it, guarding the old town. Unlike Dubrovnik the fort’s walls are linked to the town below. As Tim did eleven years ago, we climb the 1350 stone steps to St Giovanni’s Fort, 255 metres above the town. The view of the man made structures is epic. The view of the natural landscape, deep blue green water framed by rocky snowcapped mountains, is divine.

In the radio comedy the Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy there is a fascinating discussion between Arthur Dent and a guy called Slartibartfast, who was allegedly responsible for designing the fjords in Norway.  Slartibartfast came up with an ingenious idea of adding fjords to Africa because… ‘they give a continent a sort of baroque feel’. The place where Tim sailed, on his first voyage, was once known as Europe’s southernmost fjord. In fact the Bay of Kotor (known as Boka) is a winding bay of the Adriatic Sea and is actually a ria (a drowned river valley), just like Kilindini Harbour in Kenya (Africa) and another famous ria, Sydney Harbour. 

Geography aside,  our wonderful experience is heightened by walking in Tim’s footsteps.

             

Day 16. Intoxicated by slow travel

With our car tucked up in a garage awaiting a new tyre, we spend the day as residents of the old city of Dubrovnik. We awake to the sound of the church bells that ring on the hour, the half hour and other random times. They are always a delight. Our little apartment includes a tiny stove and a small fridge so we have fresh milk, cereal (Muesli Cokolada), fresh bread from the Pakara (bakery), and English Breakfast teabags from home. As we are living in the old city we are in no rush and can have a leisurely breakfast enjoying the view.

Eventually we find ourselves outside in short sleeves in pre-spring sunshine. The one-hour walk around the walls of the old city takes us almost three. We meander, take photos, consider the history and marvel at the colour and beauty of the Adriatic coastline. We laugh (inwardly) at the beautifully dressed tour group that start with us but are obviously in a big hurry. By the time we are two thirds of the way around the wall, we notice that they are already returning from a boat trip to an island after they had completed their walk around the wall. Today we are intoxicated by slow travel. We delight in the ingenious methods that residents use to dry their clothes. We muse over the grapevines, citrus trees and veggie gardens, that are beginning to come to life after their winter slumber. We watch from above as local kids dart up and down narrow streets whose pavements have seen great empires rise and fall. We sit in the sun and enjoy an ice-cream – something we did not imagine doing in March in Europe.  It’s hard to imagine a more complete view of Dubrovnik’s history and beauty, but after lunch to discover another perspective.

A cable car takes us to the top of the mountain above the city, where we explore the remains of a fort build by Napoleon. The fort was more recently used by the Croatian Nationals in their war of independence from Yugoslavia. It includes a museum explaining the devastating destruction that was inflicted on much of Dubrovnik just 24 years ago. We well remember seeing the TV footage at the time, but it is so much more meaningful when we actually see the scars in the walls. The English translation of the exhibits is rather hard to follow, as indeed, is any reading of the conflict.

A perfect day ends with a home cooked meal of frozen peas, tinned corn, ill-defined sausages, a tin of tomatoes and half a packet of Barilla butterfly pasta, at the huge cost of 15 Kuna, a little less than $3 AUD.  No bus tourist ever had it so good!

             

Day 15. Dramatic Adriatic

The toll free road from Split to Dubrovnik is nothing short of dramatic. It literally hugs the coast for 180kms, at times just metres from the ocean. The scenery is like that of The Great Ocean Road on steroids. At times the road departs from the coast and heads across the nearby mountains, but the scenery remains panoramic. We are blessed, yet again, by glorious sunshine.  The Dalmatian Coast’s reputation for having one of the most beautiful coastal vistas in the world, is not overstated. No wonder various national groups have fought over this coast for several millennium. In mid March the road is quiet but we wonder what it must be like when the multitude of apartments and hotels that line the coast are filled with tourists in the peak summer season. The narrow road we enjoy today, must become a traffic nightmare.

The wow moments on our trip keep happening. Half way to Dubrovnik there is a significant noise from beneath our little brown frog (Citroen C4).

Wendy asked, ‘Wow, what was that?’  

Richard nonchalantly replied ‘Nothing to worry about, we just hit a smallish rock.’

Wendy then asked, ‘What’s that noise?’

She was referring to a hissing noise that seemed to last for about 30 seconds and then stop. A red light suddenly flashed on the dashboard. We read the message clearly… tyre pressure warning. We pulled over and sure enough the wall of the tyre had sustained a small gash allowing the air to escape, rather quickly.

In spite of a lack of practice for over 30 years, Richard somehow remembered how to change a tyre. Fortunately the car had a proper spare tyre so we made it in good time to Dubrovnik to be welcomed into a fantastic apartment within the walls of the Old City.

All in all, it was quite a dramatic day.