Crabs, More Crabs and Tropical Disease Symptoms

There is no greater travel reality check than leaving paradise (link) and arriving in Sihanoukville. We had two hours in Sinville before our ferry to Koh Rong Samloem departed and that was two hours too many. Enter fat Poms strutting around with their shirts off, women offering us pamphlets to join their full moon party (definitely misjudged her audience there), Khmer youths that had been corrupted by attempting to imitate the knobbish Westerners that hang out there and puppies, that were too young to even know what they were doing, humping other puppies (we also blame the Westerners for this).

So after two hours that felt like ten we were on our way to Koh Rong Samloem, another picturesque island off the Cambodian coast.

Koh Rong Samloem

Apart from taking in a bit of island village life and soaking up some more sun, I was on KRS to complete my Advanced Open Water Dive ticket. I nailed it, naturally.

Highlights of the course were:

• underwater rodeo which involves taking off your tank and BCD and riding it like a bucking bull;
• seeing three seahorses and setting a new AOW record in the process;
• a night dive on Papa's Boat which was crawling with fish and a myriad of crabs; and
• playing ping pong with an egg yolk at 29 metres that doesn't break up due to the pressure that's exerted on it at that depth. Mind = blown

Highlights of Nix's time on KRS were:

• hanging out with SparkleD*ck and Bobo;

• reaffirming her title as Gecko Queen spending her days with a family of seven Giant Geckos (all at different stages of their development ranging from tiny to foot long); and

• getting some quiet time away from me.

But the most interesting observations from KRS were the things our gecko friends would get up to at night:

• we watched the big daddy shed his skin by peeling it off with his mouth and eating it;
• we witnessed gecko sex which was surprisingly consensual; and
• saw two geckos fall off the roof in an attempt to get an insect and live to tell the tale of their four metre plunge.

Kampot

We dropped in to Kampot to visit one of their famous pepper plantations and chow down on all things pepper. We spent four nights holed up in our room whilst Nix suffered through what appeared to be the onset of Dengue. We had one decent meal of pepper squid, saw the giant durian roundabout and I had some Cambodia-wide famous but ultimately disappointing ribs. Nix's symptoms cleared up after a few days (clearly only the best of us get the real dengue) and it was time to move on.

Looks like someone made a full recovery.

Kep

Pretty little seaside Kep. It has a white sandy beach, is small and peaceful and is a popular hangout for Cambodians. Oh, and it had crabs. F*CKLOADS of crabs. More crabs than you can poke a claw at. Crab shells litter every corner of the beaches, streets and parks.

There are two main ways for you to acquire your crabs.

The first is at the Crab Market where the ladies down by the water's edge haul their crab pots out of the ocean and you barter your way to what seems like a reasonable price for a kilo. We read a "guide" before we went on how to barter for you crabs. Don't bother reading that guide. People throw numbers and laughs and quizzical looks at you in rapid succession and anything you've read that says "make sure you select your own crabs", "you a should never pay more than X amount", "the optimal size for a crab is three and a quarter inches". Forget it.

Get in there, don't get ripped off, get stuck into your bag of steaming hot crabs.

As long as you keep a smile on your face the Khmer people will pretty much take them from the pot and put them in your mouth. For less than a tenner you'll get a kilo of crabs, half a kilo of prawns, lime and pepper dipping sauce, and two sugar cane juices. You can't beat that for a feed.

The other option is one of the crab shacks complete with menu and a tenth of the crab for the same price. Nahhhh...

Rabbit Island

Before leaving Cambodia we slummed it for a couple of nights on Koh Tonsai in a $6 a night bungalow.

The wind blew its arse off, the sun never really appeared and on both boat crossings everyone got drenched but hanging out in a hammock and being adopted by the local dog pack (to the point that we'd get de-flead like the puppies by mama pooch) made leaving the little island paradise very, very tough.

But now it's time for Viet Nom!!

Here's our Cambodian journey in map form.

The Recap - The Balkans (Part I)

As I've stated previously, Croatia and the rest of the Balkans were going to be a massive flop after having such a great time in Iceland. However the region continues to surprise us and given it's managed to provide us some much needed respite from this strenuous travelling game, it's a region that we can wholeheartedly recommend for people to go and see and relax in. 

What We'll Miss
  

• Concrete sunbathing/diving-in-off platforms
• Croatian Prsut... Other countries in the region do their take on this but don't deliver like the Croatians do
• Croatian islands that are actually more spectacular than any pictures could ever have you believe 
• The Bay of Kotor and Kotor in particular - just stunning 
• Meeting up with THE Michael J Clarke in Dubrovnik 
• The friendliness and hospitality of people throughout the region - like guesthouses that will pick you up and and drop you off at the bus station free of charge and barmen that share their chips with you
• The haunting beauty of Mostar and Sarajevo

What We Won't Miss

• Judgement Cat in Split. Everyday we would walk past this particular cat and ignoring our smooching and psswsswsswssss noises it would just stare back at us and judge harder than you've ever seen any other cat judge
• Sea urchins that sit in the shallows ready to drive their needles deep inside your heel
• Gypsy kids in Kotor that stroke your face and hug you in an attempt to get money and food out of you 
• Ulcinj in Montenegro, what a sh*t of a place... 
• Week long thunderstorms. We like a good bit of lightning as much as the next person but not for an entire week. This is our summer. We'd done winter for an entire year, we don't need to be reminded of it..... 
• Those 16° C water temps in Split, what's up with that... 

The Food

THAT squid ink risotto for sure. Nicola rattled off about five other strong contenders when I threw the question out there but you'd come back to Ston for that squid ink risotto alone. 

The Drink

Cheap wine by the litre, even cheaper beer by the litre, powerful and potent raki... All very good but walnut and fig grappas in Split win the chicken dinner. You know when something says that it is aged with, aged on, flavoured with x and you only get a hint of what it says it will taste like and you only think it tastes like that because you know that it should? No risk of that here. The walnut and fig aromas and flavours invade your nostrils and palate immediately and have you calling the waiter over for another. 

Barrie-ometer of "Feel" - oooooooweeeeeee, what's up with that?

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...

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.