split to dubrovnic.

Day 37

we woke to HEAVY rain and a thunderstorm. not wishing to venture out before we had to we had a lazy morning in our appartment, that was until our pesky host turned up to boot us out ten minutes early. ollie was still in the shower and was virtually chased out. we had various supplies to pick up before our boat sailed to vela luka, on the island of korcula. We got soaked in the process but whilst ollie was fetching food i was invited to take shelter in the tent of a market seller. from behind the counter of her place mat stall i watched the hustle and bustle of the market. it was dominated by women selling everything from pigs heads to succulent figues and their rauccaus shouting across the rainy street amused me as much as the cackles they gave off to the jokes i assumed they were telling. one old woman in particular caught my eye. she was dressed in a plastic bag and addidas football shoes that looked 10 sizes too big for her. i suspect that rather than being on her way to the local park for a kick about she had decided in good sense to wear her grandsons shoes to get soaked in.

our 3 hour sailing was rough as hell! i speak for myself in saying i didnt chunder and the other 4 guys claimed not to have thrown up but i did notice they all spent rather alot of time tooing and throwing from the vomit stenched toilet area. we arrived in the dark and the rain and with no one to ask where was free of landmines and safe to camp we (perhaps foolishly) put our tents down on the nearest bit of flat ground we could find.

Day 38

the tent flapped in my face all night as a storm raged outside but by the time morning arrived the weather had cleared enough to take breakfast outside. we rode on through the beautiful island, which was lush and green, and arrived in good time to catch our ferry from korcula to the mainland. apparrently marco polo was born in korcula so it felt right that our roaming adventure should pass through his home town.

Once back on the mainland we followed a scenic coastal road that petered out into a path that led to a tiny fishing village, called podbuce, where the route through seemed to stop on the harbour beach. Mr Villach was fishing from the tiny harbour walls and offered his assistance. he was an officer in the croatian navy and knew and loved devon from his days at dartmouth naval college. Of course i immediately took a liking to him! he found us a cracking place to put our tents. penned in by pine trees it was the only bit of flat ground for miles and had a cracking view over the sea. he told me the village was typically adriatic in its appearance and that many of the building had not changed for centurys. he then pointed to a series of smuggerlers caves in the cliffs behind the village in which he said the villagers used to hide their valubles from roaming pirates. it was certainly a special place.

Day 39

having packed up the tents ollie and i legged it down to the beach for a swim. the villagers looked at us like we were nutters but the water was beautifully warm. mr villach turned up in a camoflage wetsuit with the biggest spear gun ive ever seen (he was trully a creature of the sea i thought). he explained that to get out of the village and avoid retracing our steps we would have to push the bikes up an incredibally steep path to a track, which would remain a track for a few miles before becoming a road again! i might have been annoyed with yan's gps for leading us on this route but Podbuce is not a place i would have wanted to miss. ollie and i were joined in the water by bill and yan who both took great pleasure in diving off the habour walls. yan was particularly ellegent with his perfectly formed swan dives.

the riding was hard to start and sweat stung my eyes. The warm weather and vistas over the glistening sea towards the islands more than made up for the hard graft though. we hit the main road again which was a relief as my buttocks and bike wouldn't have taken much more of the tracks we were on.

we passed through Ston. a medievil with impressive walls that rolled on back into the hills like the great wall of china.

i came the closest ive been to a serious accident that afternoon. caught out by nasty pot hole the back end of my bike was thrown into the air. i stayed on but the pannier containg my tent went flying across the road towards oncoming traffic. Noble bill was quick to come to my assistance and grabbed the pannier but almost got hit by a bus in the process. the incident has shaken my confidence on the roads and i dare'nt travel too fast anymore.

That night we camped on the out skirts of Dubrovnick where our party of five gained a new member. MY DAD! he had come for adventure and was to be riding with ollie and me for the next 12 days.

Day 40

Rode early into dubrovnic. i felt strangely paternal watching dad. i was very worried about him on the exceptionaly hectic road. i told him to keep tighter to the side but he said he needed "wobble space". this concerned me. a lot!

Dubrovnic was increddible. the baroque buildings and marble streets had been all but completely destroyed by Yugolsav bombing but the city's inhabitants have painstakingly rebuilt it to former glory.

we rented another appartment which was refreshingly easy to do and russian free. we took our lunch down to the town beach and i was quick to get into the water. after swimming 20 meteres from the shore i turned and was shocked at what i saw. Now, i consider mysely almost too old to get embarrased by my parents but as dad strut down the beach in his y-fronts i couldn't help but begin to blush. in a rage a yelled at him to get at least waist deep immediately! then i just had to deal with him getting back out of the water.

That night our family of cyclists sat down to a feast complete with apple crumble, walnut lecure and a dad. afterwards, half cut, we wandered the streets of dubrovnic which were virtually tourist free. good times!