Our final week in Croatia was spent in the nether regions, exploring Dubrovnik and the Pelješac Peninsula, along with just a few more islands in Southern Dalmatia.  As we rejoined the mainland and headed south from Brač, we had a brief stop over in Zaostrog, a long narrow shingle beach with astonishing sunsets, but which has been rather over-run with holiday apartments.  Every  single apartment must have been full to the brim with Bosnian summer sun seekers (judging by the number plates) because each day the beach was so tightly packed that the towels were about 10cm apart and all had to face the same direction (I kid you not).  If one person wanted to turn over there was a collective rendition of ‘roll over, roll over’ and all the sardines flipped over to fry the other side.

Just before hitting Dubrovnick, where we were to be joined by Deane’s mum, we stopped off in Ston at the start of the Pelješac Peninsula.  With impressive medieval inner and outer city walls which are remarkably intact, Ston (and Mali Ston) is also famous for mariculture (that’s just a clever word for farming seafood to eat) so when we stopped for lunch, I had no choice but to order a kilo of mussels and then to wash them down with a lovely glass of local wine (the peninsula is well known for two delightful reds – pelješac and plavac – we sampled both several times of course).   We came back to the Peninsula a few days later, but for now, we had an extra passenger to collect.

After some reorganisation in the van and the addition of a little pop up tent as a spare room, Deane and Will headed down to Dubrovnik airport to collect Cassy.  What a joy to see her – despite the fact she had packed English drizzle in her suitcase, and Will was the happiest of us all as she arrived just in time to celebrate his 9^th birthday.  It was to be a lovely week with Mama Cass on board.

Will’s birthday had actually already been celebrated twice earlier in the year, once with his mates in the UK before we left and again in Albufeira with Dolphin Day.  Of course we had to mark the actual day as well, so after opening gifts we had bacon butties for breakfast made with centimetre thick slices of local pig (Will’s choice).  One of Will’s gifts from his Nan was a kite with which we have invented a new sport – kite throwing.  This soon to be Olympic discipline involves three demented travellers sneaking into a various farmers fields and proceeding to throw the kite into the ploughed field for half an hour before sneaking back out again.  We are working hard to perfect our skills in this arena, no doubt much to the amusement of many Italian villagers.

The next couple of days were spent exploring the old town of Dubrovnik.  When you see so many pictures and hear so many stories about the beauty of a place I always worry that reality won’t live up to the hype.  Not with Dubrovnik.  Sheltered from harm by its strong walls, the inhabitants of Dubrovnik live within a surprisingly orderly patchwork of sand coloured alleys, squares and churches (unlike many old towns where ‘higgledy piggledy’ was the favoured layout).  Apparently this is because the city was rebuilt after a fire in the 13^th century, a piece of ancient history that was matched by the very recent and very live history of rebuilding after the seven month siege by the Yugoslav  People’s Army in 1991.   How sad it must have been for those that live in and love their slice of history to see it crumbling.  Still – new red roofs abound and the city is alive and well again!

Our first day in the city was almost crowded out by the many summer visitors – going down some alleys felt like being in a Disneyland queue (without a Peter Pan ride at the end), but the moments of peace we sought out in the backstreets, churches and quieter squares (with their ornate water fountains) allowed the city’s charm to shine through.  Walking the walls the next day was an absolute joy (a very hot joy in 33°) and my camera seemed to be on automatic as we looked down on scene after scene of jumbled roofs, tangled alleys and secret gardens of seclusion, backed by the ever gorgeous Adriatic sparkling invitingly (note to self – pack swimming stuff next time in the old town so that we can jump off the rocks by the old port).  A delicious lunch near the city gates set us up for a trip up the hill on the cable car where we all oohed and aahed at the views yet again before heading back to camp for a dip in the neighbouring hotel pool (where Cassy was taken on a delightful spin of the pool in an inflatable tyre by Master Will).

The next morning saw us out bright and early to catch a boat out to the Elaphite Islands – a sweet little group of islands off Dubrovnik.  Although the boat was crowded, the islands were lovely and our stops on Šipan, Lopud and Koločep all had their charm (swimming, mini botanical gardens, laid back beers in the sun, snorkelling and leaping off the boat).  All three islands are working hard to reinstate their tourist trade following the recent conflicts and undoubtedly when we return in the future we will find these quiet islands have twice the population and not quite twice the charm.  Still, a lovely day out on the water.

Leaving the hub bub of Dubrovnik behind, we headed back up the Pelješac Peninsula, this time taking the perilous road all the way to Orebić – a 15^th century town with a rich maritime history of both a naval and commercial nature.  Sea captains from days gone by built grand homes along the narrow waterfront and many of these remain today, looking suitably full of pride if renovated to create high class holiday homes, and delightfully moody if left to weather in the weather.

We camped just outside Orebić in a delightful campsite (Nevio) with a panoramic view across the bay to the island of Korčula, where we headed the next day.  As we waited on the quay for the regular water taxi, the clouds were gathering and darkening and it was with some trepidation that we boarded the little craft.  Korčula Town is often described as a mini Dubrovnik, and with its protective sea walls hugging the enchanting 13^th century old town it is easy to see why.  For us, the island location and the symmetrical but mainly low level spread of the new town gives Korčula the edge and we were all really quite taken by this gem.

By the time we reached Korčula it was raining quite heavily so we sought shelter for a coffee before doing our best to explore the herringbone pattern alleys and squares, churches and arty shops.  As we hit the main square the heavens really opened, throwing rain, thunder and lightning at us with gusto.  We had no choice but to seek shelter and while St Mark’s Cathedral was quite lovely to look at, it didn’t serve food so along with every other tourist on the island we headed across the square to dine on traditional Croatian fare – pizza.  As we headed back to the port to catch the boat back, we literally had to go barefoot as rivers of water ran down the steps and through the Land Gate.

The next evening, after spending a few hours on the beach, we were back to Korčula for a sunset dinner and a performance of Moreska Sword Dancing.  This 400yr old traditional dance about the fate of a young woman loved by two men who are willing to fight for her is lauded as one of Korčula’s leading cultural events (cue cringe).  The school orchestra playing show tunes didn’t fill us with delight but who can’t love a couple of dozen men in pleats and frills clashing swords in carefully executed and perfectly timed ‘dances’ with sparks flying and biceps pumping in a tiny moonlit arena.  As the white king reigned victorious, winning the maiden (who loved him anyway), the black king and we headed home to bed.

As we left the peninsula, time had come to return Cassy to the airport for her return to the UK.  We camped south of Dubrovnik and after being turned away from the first site, stayed just shy of the Montenegro border at Molunat where we enjoyed a final seafood (and spag bol) dinner overlooking the Adriatic.  It was with some sadness that we waved good bye to Cassy in the morning but we had thoroughly enjoyed having her join our journey and our nomadic way of life.

Croatia must have known we were about to depart and our last night before catching the ferry to Italy saw perhaps one of the most dramatic storms to date.  We were wrapped up snug as bugs in rugs in the van with not so much as a flip flop outside, but as we watched streak after streak of lightning tear the sky in half, another family wasn’t so lucky, losing one of their big van windows.  Deane donned the ever present pac-a-mac and helped secure the van from the worst of the weather for which we were very kindly rewarded later that night with a bottle of Serbian schnapps.  What a lovely gesture and I can assure you, it warms every cockle chilled by every storm!  Thank you!

The following morning saw us head to the port in Dubrovnik and onto the ferry to Italy.  Croatia was an unexpected joy – an absolutely beautiful land, with an incredible history, an unassuming air and incredible promise – spending time there makes you feel part of  both the rich past and the promising future.  We will undoubtedly be back very soon!    Zbogom i hvala puno Croatia.