Kotor, Kotor, Kotor...

We're on a nice roll of stunning places at the moment and Kotor might just be the pick of the bunch. My words can't do it justice, the photos might.

Consider yourself lucky that some of those photos are in sunshine.  In four days in Kotor we managed to get just a couple of hours of sunshine and fluked them as we climbed the steps of the fortifications. The rest of the time we endured one of those storms where the locals go, "oh this never happens in June, normally sun, sun, sun".

An honourable mention to the guys at Evergreen for keeping us lubricated and Mesara Taniga for providing us a roast chicken feast to remember which included mind-blowingly good potatoes that sit in the juices of rotisseried chicken and lamb all day. Omnomnom.

Korcula, it's Croatian for 'take it easy'

Korcula is an island off the Croatian coast that pretty much fulfils any vision you could have had about how you'd expect the perfect Croatian island to feel and look.

The pace of life is slow (and real Croatians actually live there), the water is the most inviting blue that you have ever seen and there are enough concrete slabs to go round for everyone to sunbathe on and dive in off.

Apart from waking up and wandering down to one of the slabs and then heading back to our guesthouse for beers, we didn't really get up to a whole lot else.

We did however squeeze in cocktails and then an awesome seafood feast at Konoba Adio Mare for someones birthday.

And we also managed to pick a bar to watch the opening game of the World Cup that lost reception at the exact moment that Croatia scored the opener.  Apart from that little blemish, life was pretty sweet on Korcula.

Dropping Fat Meets in Dubtown with Kate an' Dean

A few months ago in Mirleft we met these guys.

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.

Night one started with Nix cooking up a storm and us all getting stuck into a fridge full of beer.  Night one started with empty cupboards and a fridge with no beer as we once again feel victim to the shops closing early on a Sunday.

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...

A Cevapi a Day Keeps the Hangover at Bay in Bosnia and Hercegovina (yes this is the longest post title that has ever been attempted)

Mostar is beautiful on the inside but ugly on the outside.

At its centre is probably my pick for the nicest, most interesting old town that we've seen on this trip and the world famous Stari Most - a 20 metre bridge that's a reconstruction of a 16th century Ottoman bridge that was destroyed (rather symbolically) during the Croat-Bosniak War and is the sole reason that a heap of people make the day trip from centres that are up to 4-5 hours drive away.

Those day trippers have made a sound decision because Stari Most and its setting against the beautiful old buildings that surround it with the emerald green river that flows underneath it make it a worthwhile jaunt.  However what they miss out on seeing is the real Mostar, the ugly Mostar.

The scars of the Croat-Bosniak War are still starkly prominent just outside of the old town in what are now (once again) peaceful residential streets.  Those scars provide a poignant introduction to a country and wars that a lot of us unfortunately know little about.

Scars from the greater Bosnian War are also still apparent in the nation's capital, Sarajevo, and buildings that remain as shells, after having been bombed during the war, provide a daily reminder of the atrocities that people who are now our age had to grow up through.

A visit to the History Museum (which is essentially a Bosnian War museum) left us exhausted and upon leaving we sat on a bench outside of the museum, unable to comprehend and reconcile what we'd just learned.  B&H, and that museum in particular, gave us an insight into a world that is unrecognisable to the one that we're fortunate enough to live in.

Sarajevo's other key historical point of interest is the Latin Bridge, where Franz Ferdinand and his wife were murdered, an event which many believe was the straw that broke the camels back when World War 1 kicked off.

However, it isn't all doom and gloom in The 'Jevo.

Cevapi is a grilled minced meat dish that's like the southeastern European take on a kebab.  Up until Kastel we didn't really understand it.  After Kastel, we got cevapi.  To be fair, we'd never had it like this.

Kastel takes four of the small skinless sausage like things, seasons them a bit a bit more than usual and then squeezes them together to make a little pattie.  The result is an exceptionally moist little bundle of joy that joins three other friends in a well greased traditional flat bread along with some chopped onions, a couple of pickled chillies and a drinking yoghurt on the side.  The result is a thing of rare beauty.  We were very satisfied customers three times over.

The best coffee in Sarajevo is surely found at Cajdzinica Dzirlo.

Instead of watching people like us fail pathetically at attempting to drink coffee the Bosnian way, the owner sits down with you and talks you through what is a very particular process.  Whilst that may look like a Turkish coffee, the desired result is quite different.  Bosnians prefer a much cleaner coffee and the steps that you must follow to drink coffee the Bosnian way reflect that.

The freshly brewed coffee is brought to your table and firstly you must stir in any grounds that remain on the top of the coffee to wet them enough to ensure that they sink to the bottom of the džezva (pot).  After leaving the coffee to sit for another 30 seconds you then pour it carefully into your cup, ensuring that you don't kick up any of the grounds that should now be resting on the bottom of the džezva.

Next comes the other key difference, how sugar is incorporated into the coffee.  Instead of it being dissolved in the dzezva when it's brewed, you must take your sugar cube and dunk it into your coffee, suck the sugar cube and then take a small sip while some of the sugar granules are still hanging around in your mouth.  Or alternatively you have a glass of serbe on the side which is a highly sugared, cinnamon spiced beverage that plays off nicely against the bitterness of the coffee.  In my case, I go for the sugar and the serbe.  There is no such thing as 'too sweet'.

The owner also knocked us up a salep - a milk and flower based hot drink made of wild orchid powder.  What a great drink that would be in the depths of winter.  One for our ever growing list of things to replicate once we get home.

The other highlight of Sarajevo was 'One Night in the 'Jevo' with these guys.

Inebriated being the operative word.  But what did I enjoy most about hanging out with those three?  Look at how brown I look in comparison.

And that was the very worst and the very best of B&H.

Split, it's far from sh*t...

Split was supposed to suffer the effects of a horrendous Icelandic hangover.

But with a lovely old city that looks something like this.

Burek from Ivan Ivić that rivals that of Belgrade.

A day trip to Hvar - one of Croatia's, if not the world's, most beautiful islands.

Deep fried prawns from Buffet Zlatna Ribica that shatter their prawny goodness around your tongue upon crunching into them, heads and all.

Mercury that actually passes 20° Celsius.

Some of Croatia's most famous beaches.

And views like this every night from the balcony of the best accommodation that we've stayed at during this trip, that hangover didn't stick around for too long.