After crisscrossing over each others itineraries and catching up for quick beers and cheap eats in Marrakech, Fes, Lisbon and Sarajevo we though it was time for something more substantial. More booze and more food pretty much. Dubrovnik was chosen as the meeting point.
Instead it was expensive beers in a bar just brimming with atmosphere and decent pizzas at a place around the corner from us. We ended up fairly merry, all's well that ends well hey.
The next morning never really was and it was early arvo when we were heading into the Old Town for a much hyped sandwich at Buffet Skola. A simple pršut with cheese and salad wrapped in a thick, cake-like thickness focaccia.
It delivered on what it said it would do. In the company of a true sandwich aficionado, we did not have a sandwich moment.
After filling our tums it was time to wander Dubrovnik's famous walls, the very walls where Ned Stark was beheaded (#GoTreference). A lot of Game of Thrones is filmed in Dubrovnik for those of you playing (watching?) at home.
The views from the top of the walls, the standard to which they've been restored/up kept and the social ineptitude of too many people - all breathtaking.
We were a bit parched after that so the brains trust decided that beers back at the apartment and Nix putting the chef's hat on was the best next move.
Move over average sandwich, a calamari and chorizo pasta in ajvar (a spicy SE European capsicum/eggplant based sauce) is where it is at. The chef killed it, not without the masterful input of her cooking consultant though.
The next day was the pinnacle of the catch up. A cruise to three of the Elafiti Islands with unlimited wine. Yes, unlimited wine.
Things got a bit messy. On the way back from the final island a very noticeable division existed down the middle of the boat - drinkers on one side and non-drinkers (sorry what?) on the other.
The day culminated in Kate and Mike* leaving us stranded on the wrong side of the port as they cruised back to the other and me, quite literally, dragging home and pouring into bed a very inebriated Nicola.
The three of us drank more beer and ate more pizza (by which point "Lazarus" had risen from the dead) and the night ended with Mike and I sat up against the fridge (that's some efficient drunks right there) enjoying an ice cold Brennivin before staggering off to bed.
It goes without saying that the next day was a non-event. That was until Kate and Mike dusted off the chef's whites and knocked up pork burittos that went a long, long way to shaking those lovely wine/beer/Brennivin hangovers that were sticking around.
And before we knew it Big Mike embraced me like a bear would embrace its cub and our time with the guys was up.
Živjeli!! Račun!!
*notice the sequence of which I mention 'Kate and Mike' as Kate and Mike and not Mike and Kate. This is because Kate very much wears the pants. Sometime back in the early eighties it was decided that Mike was incapable of going out in public with anything that resembles a valuable and it has now digressed to a point where Mike doesn't even own a wallet or have a bank account of his own and must make a weekly application to the Bank of Kate for a few measly pounds. "Sorry guys, I've only got a quid on me, just a half for me today thanks".
Ston
Prior to Dubrovnik we had a v enjoyable couple of days in a little Croatian town called Ston.
What brought us to Ston you ask? The world's second longest, still intact ancient wall? Ha, nope. We only learnt that fact after getting to Ston.
What about Ston oysters and mussels that are world famous? Well of course, we are the hungry travellers after all. Ha, so gay.
We had two meals in Ston. One at Stagnum and one at Konoba Bakus, both renowned for the quality of the seafood that they churn out.
The feed at Stagnum killed it. First up were some of the oysters that were more meaty and quite unlike any other oysters that we'd had before.
Then for mains we shared a kilo of the local speciality Buzara mussels and a squid ink risotto.
That squid ink risotto, holy sh*t balls. We'd had a few of these leading up to this one but this one was next level. It came out with a sleek black glaze to it and where the olive oil had split the risotto it was ringed with a firey orange ooze. The risotto tasted like the bounty of the sea and not a single grain of rice was left on that plate. A real show stealer and it's earned a place in the top five meals of the trip. So good.
However, leaving Ston wasn't quite as enjoyable.
On the day before we left, we'd checked with the girl at our accommodation what time the bus left to Dubrovnik, 12 midday she said.
The next day we were ready and waiting at the bus stop where a bus was sitting that had a sign on it indicating that it was going to Dubrovnik. After 30 minutes of waiting and no bus driver I went for a walk to find the tourist info only to discover that the 12 midday bus doesn't run on Sundays and we'd have to wait until 7pm.
Stuff that we thought. We made a paper sign saying Dubrovnik and set off on the five km walk back to the main road thinking that surely someone would pick us up.
Five minutes in, the torrential downpour commenced and before we knew it we were walking through ankle deep water as car after car passed us and we became resigned to the idea that no one wanted to pick up two smelly, wet backpackers.
We made it to the main road (and somehow Nicola was still smiling) as the rain eased up and then 45 minutes later, after car upon car turned their nose up at us, a local pulled over and we jumped in.
Fifty minutes later, after an extremely broken English/Croatian conversation and learning that the man is married with two boys (and seeing photos of each of them as we almost drove over a cliff) and is a mechanic (thankfully mechanic in Croatian is very close to mechanic in English), and after him repeating countless times, whilst laughing wildly "Australie! Australie! So far!!", we'd finally made it to Dubrovnik. It's a good story, if anything...
