So where are all the Dalmatians?

The last few days have been a flurry of medieval towns, bad food and hot weather. Here are the highlights……..

A night in Zadar wandering the tiny streets stumbling across Roman ruins, that our guide book seems to not bother telling us about. Leaving our all inclusive (it has never been the same since the 70's) hotel we drove the stunning Dalmatian coast. Massive mountains plunging into the turquoise Adriatic, tiny villages clinging to the sides.

After the 5 hour drive along the winding single lane highway, we picked the first accomodation we found that looked clean. Don’t judge a book as they say… the rooms were run by an elderly bachelor, and they certainly could use a woman's touch... or a healthy dose of Lysol, perhaps it was his failing eyesight that made him miss the grunge and stains we uncovered… enough said.

The magnificently fortified city of Dubrovnik has recovered from a siege that occurred during the war, (amazing to think these ancient walls were used just 10 years ago to protect its residents). The mortar craters are gone and waves of tourists jump off buses every 4 seconds. We did a brisk walk around the ramparts and the limestone paved streets (buffed to a shine by the numerous shuffling feet that pass through daily) before the heat of day set in. During our stroll we happened across an American couple that we could hear blocks away. "HENNNNRY sit on the step so I can take a picture" "HEEENNNRRY...." "HENRY look at that" HENR--EEEEY, why do you think they built all this?" At that point we grabbed an icecream and spent the rest of the day on the beach.

Early next morning we escaped the tourists as we headed towards our final Croatian towns of Trogir & Split. All was fine until Jen decided to drive like a local. It seems the police didn’t appreciate that, and pulled us over. We had precious little cash on us; fortunately the ticket price seemed negotiable and we managed to pinch together enough in a mish mash of currencies to save Adam from certain execution. A coffee was needed to make things right. We decided to stop in Bosnia for a coffee since we happened to be passing through (a coastal section of Bosnia/ Herzegovenia divides the Dalmation coast). Not only did the Croats end up with the better part of the coastline, but they also clearly made clean with the best barristas... the cup of coffee in Bosnia made 7-11 coffee look good.

With bad coffee and a speeding fine, needless to say, the day was challenging, but we arrived safe in Trogir where beer and fries soon put the world right again.