Bouncing Around the Balkans

Since Terri and Drew left us a few weeks ago a lot has happened. We plan to spend some of the winter with my relatives inland in Croatia and some of the winter travelling in Europe. In order to leave the boat unattended for that long, I would feel better leaving it on the hard, so we had to make arrangements to do so at the ACI Dubrovnik Marina. The cost is about the same as we paid in Almerimar last year, but the facilities and scenery are much, much nicer. For starters, there is a pool and showers with hot water. The grounds are clean and the equipment is all new and well maintained.

The pool, and Maggie

View from our boat-on land

 The marina is located at the start of the Dubrovacka River, which runs in a valley between two small mountains. The location is a few kilometres from Dubrovnik with buses running frequently between them. Just beyond the start of the river around the bend in the mountain is a huge valley that extends some kilometres to the south and contains a few small villages and countryside; it is all quite beautiful and pastoral.

While waiting to haul out on October 1^st, we anchored in the river in front of the marina (at no charge) for a week, and we rode out a couple of boras and otherwise took it easy. During one of the boras, a gust of wind flipped the dinghy over and the outboard spent some undetermined amount of time submerged. We don't have an anemometer, so I don't know how strong the gust was, but we have ridden at anchor in winds close to forty knots and never had any trouble with the dinghy. We suspect that perhaps we had the dinghy on too much rode whereas normally it is in closer to the mothership.

The outboard wouldn't start when we tried it, and we were literally up the river without a paddle, since we don't have paddles nor oars for the dinghy. Fortunately, our new friends Helmut and Monica loaned us their dinghy, so we could bring our motor to the mechanic who was conveniently located in the ACI yard. The next day after dropping it off we were up and running with it again – better than new.

H2OBO was expertly hauled out by a crew of about a dozen and placed onto the sturdiest and best cradle I have ever seen. There are eight pads, two at each corner of the stand, so that when it comes time to apply the anti-fouling (which we can do ourselves) there won't be any problems coating under the pads. The yard is well lit and guarded by cameras and a security guard.

H2obo anchored in river

Yard, ACI Marina

View from marina

We spent a few days winterizing the boat and packing for our extended stay away from our now landed home. We had rented a car (for approximately 20 euros a day for three days) from the Dubrovnik airport to drop it off at the Zagreb airport. My folks live in a little town called Palesnik, which is about seventy kilometres from Zagreb. The trip from Dubrovnik to Palesnik is about 700 kms., and there are two routes: one stays within Croatia and the other crosses through the country of Bosnia and Hercegovina (B&H). The former is longer since you basically have to drive around B&H. We chose the latter since we were promised that it was very scenic but were warned repeatedly about the rabid and abundant police.

While passing through the town of Jablanica, stopped at a red light, I turned right; this is a no-no in B&H, as well as in Croatia. I was immediately pulled over by a friendly cop who began shaking me down by telling me of the cost and hassle of a ticket I could avoid by paying him something directly. I gave him 5 euros and we were on our way again. On the way back to Dubronvik (I will get to that part of the story) through this same town, we were pulled over by cops while proceeding down an inclined part of the hill. Apparently, the speed limit was 40 km. and we were doing 67; however, both Maggie and I doubt that strongly. The police had radar and it showed that number but for all we know it ONLY shows that number. Anyway, after the same shake-down speech, I ended up giving them 40 kunas (about eight CAD) and we were on our way again – fuming. Our strategy from now on when getting stopped by the police in B&H will be to strictly speak English with the police while pretending not to understand anything they are saying; have only 10 kunas in my wallet; and insist that the police come back to the police station with us where we can pay the fine and, thereby, deprive them of their bribe. Maybe if they have to work for the money, they won't bother with us. I will let you know how that works because we will be returning to Palesnik again (wait for it....), and we will likely get a ticket again no matter how hard we try not to.

When foreigners enter Croatia they can travel on a tourist visa for three months within a six month period; like the Schengen Treaty rules in the EU. One can request an extension for up to 6 months, but there are some hoops to jump through first. One must get a tax number in order to open a bank account in which there is enough money to support oneself (2000 kunas/ month). After that, you must provide evidence of health insurance, an invoice to prove that accommodations have been paid for, passport photos, etc. Most of this happens at the local police station; both my cousins in Palesnik are policemen and we all thought that it would be far easier to fill out all this paperwork in their town. We were wrong. I suppose because no tourists have ever come to Palesnik and asked to stay for an extra six months, the local administrators had not a clue how to process us and refused to do so. We had to come back to Dubrovnik. It was October 9^th when we borrowed my cousin Daniela's car and drove back to Dubrovnik. Our three month visa expires on Oct 28^th, and it is not certain that the paperwork will be processed in time. In that case, we would drive back to Palesnik to return the car and then leave Croatia from Zagreb for three months before we could return again. What galls me is that we could have done all this while we were sitting on our hands in Dubrovnik for two months, and the fact that there seem to be different rules in different parts of the country that apply to foreigners. Fortunately, B&H is absolutely beautiful to drive through – despite the police.

Mostar brudge

Mostar

Old town, Mostar

Maggie,  on the Mostar bridge

B&H is mountainous and the highway that we have to travel runs beside a river in a deep gorge between steep mountains. The people are poor, but the villages are idyllically set throughout the mountains. It is best to stay away from the big cities as they have a distinct soviet-era ambiance about them. This includes Mostar, except for the old historical centre that contains the famous bridge. The last Balkan war pretty much levelled the old town, but it is mostly rebuilt and looks fantastically medieval. Three religions collide in B&H: Islam, Catholicism, and the orthodox church. The drive through the country takes us through distinct regions in which one of the three dominates. So as you cross the border into B&H from the coast, you see catholic churches with some minarets interspersed among them. As you continue into the heartland, the churches disappear and mosques predominate. Then as you continue north back toward Croatia (Croatia is shaped like a comma that is wrapped around B&H), you enter a region that is pro-Serbia and the churches and mosques have largely disappeared. There are still tensions among these three groups and seems that they will not be resolved any time soon.

Sophie, in the back seat

All this has been stressful on Sophie, too. When she moved into our house as an uninvited guest fourteen years ago, she had the run of a modestly large two-storey house. Then three years ago, we moved her onto a forty foot boat and she had never left it – intentionally. Then she found herself packed like baggage in a small rental car and a room in Mostar over the next three days, to which she adapted reluctantly. My cousin Branko (there are a lot them in Croatia) and his wife Sania, graciously provided Sophie with her very own room in one of the buildings on their property and she lived there for a few days before she was packed back into a car for the return trip to Dubrovnik. Soon she will be back in the car on her way back to her “suite” in Palesnik. I wonder what she thinks about all this.

Lamb roast

Branko, Dora and Branko

Borna and Domi

Tetak - Branko's uncle

During our brief stay in Palesnik, we attended the dismemberment of a pig; early morning hikes through the nearby forest to pick mushrooms and acorns with my cousins Daniela and Ankica; a party in honour of Croatian Independence day; a trip to visit nearby thousand year old ruins; another dismemberment – this time of a lamb that used to live in the back yard; a feast consisting of the spit-roasted aforementioned lamb; Maggie made a trip to Bosnia with Daniela and some of her friends to attend the chestnut festival that was taking place there; and lots of playing with Dora, Domagoj and Borna, my cousins' kids. It was an action-packed and fun few days.

Mushroom hunting

Eureka!

Mushroom at home...

Acorns, 40 kilos

We have already made some progress with the paper work in Dubrovnik and hope to get everything sorted out so that we can return to Palesnik and be there with the gang over Christmas and New Year. It would be a blast. After that we are hoping to return for a visit to Spain for a couple of months to visit our friends there. Then it would be back to Croatia to continue cruising north along this beautiful coast.

That's the plan, at least. We will see how far we stray from it over the next few months.

Branko

Živjeli!!! Terri and Drew and Croatia.

We arrived in Dubrovnik just after sunset, and after quickly clearing customs, took a fast, twisting taxi ride to Cavtat. Even in the dark, the hint of the jewels of Croatia, the mountains rising on one side, with the hills sparkling with lights, promised of many villages to explore. Our reunion, as always, was joyous and happy as we caught up over delicious food and drink.

anchored in Cvatat

Sbrenno

Branko and Sophie

Sipanski Luka

In the morning, still bleary-eyed with jet-lag, Maggie and I were chatting down in the salon, when all of a sudden the view outside caught my eye. White houses with red roofs dotted the countryside, and cypress trees rose like spires all around. What gorgeous countryside to wake up to! There is nothing in the world that can compare to jumping down into the Adriatic Sea for a refreshing wake-up swim. We frolicked around in the water, and were revitalized and ready for the adventures ahead.

We weighed anchor and motored up the coast a short distance to Srebreno to provision and spend the evening. Quaint little villages like this one are found all along the coast. Later in the afternoon, Maggie and I swam to shore while Branko and Drew cleaned the hull using handy Canadian ice scrapers. The next day we set off for our next destination, Sipanski Luka, making water along the way. It’s quite amazing to consider how self-sufficient a sailboat can be. The water maker desalinates ocean water and wind generator and solar panels provide electricity.

We stayed at Spinaski Luka for a couple of days, intending on taking advantage of a 5K walk across to Sudurad. Wednesday morning, the skies opened up in a marvelous thunderstorm, resulting in a terrific opportunity to clean off the stainless and swab the deck, so everyone pitched in. The skies cleared for our walk to Sudurad. On our way to the road, Branko and Drew took some time to enjoy the local playground! Along our walk, we discovered side trails of 200m to nowhere as we followed some local signs that said 200m to sights such as a small estate and a fresh spring. Each time were sadly disappointed! We did enjoy fresh figs, grapes and apples right from the trees along the way, so at least there was that!

Sudarad

Terri and Drew, Sudarad

Sipanski Luka

Branko and Drew

In Sudurad, a big St Bernard cooled himself in the water nearby. We enjoyed a beer by the water, and then decided to catch the bus back. Its arrival coincided with the local ferry. Some local kids were swimming nearby in the water near the ferry dock. After the ferry landed, the ferry captain obligingly activated the reverse engines, allowing one young swimmer to swim against the flow, seemingly stuck in one spot! Adventures abound – our bus got stuck on the way back to Sipanski Luka. A tractor-trailer from the ferry did not negotiate a turn well, and got hung up on a corner. So there we were in a Croatian traffic jam….the truck, one car, and our bus! Eventually we cleared off to get back to dinner and relax. That night, the rain came down again, causing a flurry of activity to close hatches and check around to make sure that there was no risk of being hit by other boats. You learn early on when cruising that it’s other boaters unsafe anchoring that you have to be watchful of.

Ston, view of Mali Ston

Slano, relaxing - Drew & Branko

Ston, fort

View from Ston fort

Thursday morning brought more thunderstorms which cleared by late morning, and we set off again, bound for Ston, farther up the coast. The passage into Ston is a long narrow channel with rock formations, so we were on the lookout all the way in. We anchored, and were quickly greeted (aka yelled at!) by Mario, a cross-eyed man on a bicycle. He had a somewhat questionable ID tag, and advised Branko that we could not anchor, but had to moor on the wall at a rather hefty price of 150 kuna, or around $25, and that was after come negotiation!! At first, the anchorage looked a little disappointing, as the water was not swim able, and the immediate vicinity was not very appealing. A brief walk into town dispelled any of those thoughts. We wandered through a series of charming narrow streets, and local vendors lined the sidewalks. A small art gallery had children creating a collage, which they began by using their painted palms, and then finished using a variety of media. We enjoyed a drink and locally caught mussels in a café, and then it was back to the boat for another fun evening. Since the days were still very hot, we decided to rise early the next morning for the walk across the protective wall of Ston.

Friday morning, we woke up at 7:00 to polka music, courtesy of Branko, who was making sure we were true to the commitment – thanks Branko! By 7:30, we were on our way to the wall, only to discover that we couldn’t enter until 8:30. So we walked the town road to Mali Ston, which was all of 20 minutes to the other side, and after wandering around yet another pretty seaside town, were on our way to the wall to walk back. It was wise to start out early, as the sun began to beat down making for a hot climb. Also, because we were so early, we were spared the difficulty of dealing with lots of tourists trying to navigate the wall – we had it to ourselves for almost the entire time. The views were incredible, and when you walk along such a structure, built in the 1300’s, it’s amazing to imagine what it took to create. We had a great view of the Ston salt flats, where reputedly the purest salt in the Mediterranean is created. After a short visit to market, we set off again, this time for Slano.

Slano is another pretty seaside time, geared towards the resort/tourist industry. After the customary anchoring/beer, Maggie and I swam to shore and walked around the town. We found the church as well as an open-air museum that had artifacts dating back to about the 1500’s. We liked this anchorage so much for its simplicity and peacefulness that we stayed on for another day. That is the beauty of this type of trip – there is no hard agenda, making it relaxed and easy to make such decisions. The next day, Maggie and I walked farther afield to a small town called Banja, passing camping sites and small swimming areas all along the way. After returning, the afternoon was spent swimming and swinging in the hammocks on the deck, followed by a delicious dinner cooked by Branko, and assisted by sous-chef Drew!

Dubrovnik

Dubrovnik & Terri

Already it was Sunday morning, and we were on the move again, this time to the walled city of Dubrovnik. We anchored in the harbour, with a perfect view. Drew and I swam to shore, navigating a bit of swelly seas, and walked around the old town. It was quite busy compared to our other spots, as this is a much larger tourist location. Back on the boat that evening, we experienced the feel of the katabatic winds that we have read about in other blog entries. It was a very active and rolly night, and we were all waking to check and make sure that the anchor was holding and that we had not dragged at all. The next morning, Drew and I went back to the old city and walked around the entire protective wall – well worth the price of admission! The city inside has been preserved in many ways, and now it has been turned into a tourist mecca of shops, cafes as well as an outdoor vendors market. Later that day, we motored the short distance back to Srebreno for a quieter anchorage and swimming. Maggie and I swam to shore and walked to the nearby town of Mlini. The name means “mill”, and they have a replica of the mill that was used to crush olives to make olive oil. Also in the middle of town there was an old stone tub on display that was used to store the olive oil. Back on the boat, we relaxed and enjoyed another sunny day.

We headed back to Cavtat for our final night in Croatia, and after a scenic walk around the waterfront, enjoyed dinner out together. All too quickly, our time together was over – another fantastic vacation aboard Water Hobo, thanks to Maggie and Branko! Živjeli!!!   

Terri &; Drew

The Intrepid Voyage of Elizabeth and John

View, swimming to the beach

Ivan in Croatia

Dubrovnik, Ivan working....

We arrived in Dubronik late at night, and after a frantic drive through the winding streets of croatia, our cabby dropped us off abruptly at the Cvetat bus station.  We knew we'd have a good time because the local restaurant bore John's Ukrainian name.  Branko appeared within minutes of our arrival, we loaded onto the dinghy, and motored off to our  beloved mistress of the sea, the H2obo.  

The next day, we woke up and after taking in the crystal clear water, we set off to explore Cvetat on foot.  I think it's fairly safe to say that all Croatian men are giants;  Branko and John were of average height next to them.  Must be all the cevapcici. That afternoon, we left Cvetat, and began our adventure on the Adriatic, motoring to Mlini, just up the coast. We reloaded on supplies at the local grocery store and then began a spirited game of Bucket.  The boys tossed, sat on, and explored the various aquatic uses of a red bucket all the while speaking in eastern european accents that all sounded vaguely sleezy.  Must be a guy thing.

Branko drove us to the little harbor in Mlini to catch the bus to Dubrovnik the following day.  "The bus stop is just at the top of the stairs." he said.  We might've been climbing up to base camp.  Thank god we're both endurance athletes.  Dubrovnik, sadly, was as overrun with tourists as Mag and Branko predicted.  We wove our way around the walled old city for a while, and then took the gondola up to see a better vista of the city.  It was hot, so we took the opportunity to further sample and critique the various croatian alcoholic beverages on offer.  The wine is lovely, but our favorite, by far, was the ubiquitous "Pivo" brand of lager, AKA "Beer".  I love self-explanatory branding.  No pretentious images of white capped mountains or a coat of arms with a latin slogan, no, just "beer".   

By the time we swam back to the boat that evening, Branko and Mag were just sitting down to the Croatian delight of potato salad.  Before I go any further, a quick word about the highlights of the gastronomy offered by our epicurean hosts: cheeses and sardines from spain, croatian speck, a red pepper puree that burst with the unadulterated flavor of red pepper (this was no North American pickled and roasted red pepper, no, this was the thing in all its purity, the essence of red pepper, sun ripened and hand picked, having matured in the warm buzzing fields of Croatia).  We added the chips.  

This is a perfect segue to the next day's adventure, when a fishing boat sidled up to harbour not far from where we were anchored.  We promptly leapt into our dinghy, no waiting for us, and purchased a bag of squid and four amberjack.  They were still pliant and clear-eyed from the morning's swim!  We cleaned them on the boat, then swabbed the deck, like true mariners, while John deep fried the calamari.  Chip fried calamari washed down with Pivo.  Life was good.  I think I celebrated with a swim to the point and back.

Our next adventure was to Sunj, where we truly came into our own as intrepid adventurers.  When we arrived, John and I swam to shore with our clothes in a dry pack, then explored the island.  After our adventure, we swam back to the boat, only to find that Branko had spied the nudist beach and we had missed out.  The next day, Maggie and I swam to the nearby caves, and began our ethnographic research into the sunbathing population of Sunj beach.  Maggie was momentarily blinded by a phallus on display.  After taking a precise and scientific survey of our population, we swam back to the boat, where the men were conducting thier own research on the female population from afar, using the binoculars.  They criticized our methods, as they insisted that we should have more fully immersed ourselves in a cultural relativist approach on the nudist beach.

We motored back to Cvetat the next morning to wait out the Bora.  While Branko taught John the nuances of Schnaps, Maggie and I, the intrepid explorers, infiltrated the nearby Iberostar resort.  We sampled the local beer, not Pivo, but another brand.  Maggie needed a bigger sample size to complete her analysis, and went back for a second glass.  The bartender caught us out, though, so we made a leisurely retreat.  That night, Branko and Maggie prepared for the bora by carefully setting the anchor.  Our Captains then spent most of the night awake to make sure that the anchor didn't drag.

Our last day and night was spent on one final wander through Cvetat, where we enjoyed some cevapcici and fed the feral cats.  Pivo, card games, and chips.  We took turns that night staying up to make sure the anchor didn't drag, and listening to the crooning singers at the Iberostar mutilate the pop hits of the 90s.  

The day we left was too bright for such a sad day.  

Elizabeth

p.s. more pics to follow