Writing this from a freezing cold train back in Blighty and the need to jump into a cold lake is indeed a distant memory. But my continuing journey through the warm balkans allowed plenty of opportunity to fulfil such needs. And with the addition of good friends by my side this was arguably the most holiday-like part of my trip.
From Bosnia I arrived into Kotor - Montenegro's version of Dubrovnik complete with a walled old-town with perfectly preserved cobbled streets. It's situated at the end of a fjord, with a backdrop of dusty mountains and a fortress built up one such slope. As I waited for Clelia to arrive - my travel buddy for the next 5 days - I treated myself to mussels - my first seafood in a long time and appropriate for the location as I later found mussel farms in the fjord. The Jazz saxophonist serenaded my romantic dinner for one and my diary writing attracted attention from the well-to-do couple at the next table who thought I might be a restaurant reviewer - fortunately for the restaurant I am not as the unwashed, overpriced mussels left much to be desired.
The next morning, when Clelia had found her way through the maze of the old town to the hostel, we went in search of our first 'beach'. After a confusing bus journey guessing at the alighting point we found ourselves sneaking into an exclusive resort and finding a patch of pebbles between the sun-loungers to lay our towels and take a quick dip in the clear blue waters. The next day saw us roaming around northern Montenegro by minibus - the heat was unbearable at times but the zipline over Tara gorge and swimming in the cool water of the black lake (once you'd conquered the sinking sand at its edges) in Dormitor national park made up for it.
We made our way from Kotor to Croatia, crossing the fjord on a tiny ferry as a huge cruise ship cut through the mountainous landscape ahead of us. Our next hostel just outside of Dubrovnik was situated on a beautiful river inlet with sparkling yachts moored all along it and a handy pier on which we could practice floating yoga and mess about in kayaks in the mornings whilst the rest of the hostel inhabitants slept off their hangovers. The old town itself was just as grand and overcrowded as I imagined after all the 'Game of Thrones' hype but the steep washing-lined backstreets with porthole views out to sea made for a pleasant contrast in pace and atmosphere. Walking around the outside of the walls brought us to the 'swimmers beach' - some jagged rocks with a set of steps that allowed you to slip into the water. I marvelled at the 2 little girls, jumping in from vast heights with pure confidence as I struggled to keep myself from bashing into rocks every time a boat went past.
As I continued my journey up the sparkling blue coast of Croatia there were plenty more swimming opportunities, mostly brought to me by my very own holiday rep Char. Not only did she sneak me into her hotel room, dinner buffet and bring me breakfast in bed but she organised the most action packed few days around Makarska. The highlight of my time with her was definitely the private stand-up paddle boarding tour around Bacina lakes as she expertly navigated through the reed-lined canals into secret lakes where we could practice some SUP yoga and topless sunbathe with only mountains to overlook us. In the 3 hour trip I managed not to fall in, only ever deliberately dunking myself in the water to keep cool. The next day our boat trip also gave ample time for swimming and sunbathing though with much less space as we fought to keep our places at the bow of the crowded ship and to find shade on one of Brac island's most famous beaches.
As I continued my quest North, as a solo traveller once more, I stopped off in the historic naval towns of Split and Pula (just a night bus separated the two). I spent a full day in each meandering between spectacular Roman ruins, including an amphitheatre, temple and stunning mosaic floor hidden behind a shop, and eating many an ice cream or pizza slice on the well-manicured waterfronts whilst watching the ships roll in, wasting time in the most enjoyable fashion. My last morning in Pula saw me boarding the ferry to hop over the Adriatic to see Venice 'rise out of the sea' as my mum once possibly imagined.
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