The morning after my birthday, I’ve reached the half-way point of my trip. I am doing my utmost to savour every moment, not to think of the inevitable return to reality. Time flies as it always does.
I have a very early start that Friday morning. I’ve booked myself on a one-day cruise around the three Elafiti islands - with lunch and drinks – for a nifty price. The only downside is, with my accommodation being so far from the main action, I have limited options for reaching the departure point on time. The buses into town aren’t regular before 9am. Either, I wake up at the crack of dawn to catch the first bus and reach Dubrovnik two hours ahead of setting sail. Or, I pay an exorbitant price for a taxi. Heck, if I lose out on a few hours kip to save 50-100 euros, so be it. I can always catch up on sleep during the bus ride.
The evening prior, I pass out very late after a full day of activity. That is, despite the raucous singing late into the night by some excitable gents out on the bay. So afraid of sleeping through the alarm, I wake up frequently nonetheless, eventually finding it too hard to return to slumber. I still find myself running to catch the bus with mere minutes to spare.
I’ve pre-arranged with the boat captain to be picked up from the main bus station in Dubrovnik. I kill time before calling him, knowing there’s no great rush.
He’s a jovial sort in that direct way that seems to be a trademark of the region. He drops me near the boat, not far from some German shops that have made their way to Croatia. I’ve missed DM and Muller’s since relocating from the Franco-German border. Being Dubrovnik, these shops are not as cheap as in their homeland but still better value than the rest of the region.
On the boat I make conversation with a camp and affable Irish-American named Ciaran. We’re born two years apart almost to the day. We swap pandemic anecdotes. A seasoned world traveller, Ciaran recounts how he took advantage of compulsory teleworking to travel around the US. We discuss COVID-management strategies across the globe, trans debates, colonialism past and present and whether communism could ever be truly realised. We have a lengthy conversation about the role of Christianity in imperialism as well as faith and sexuality. It's true platonic kismet. Ciaran is respectful and considerate. I welcome the chance to have a thoughtful discussion about challenging issues.
Each island is more picturesque than the last. Ciaran says the Croatian coastline has become his favourite. It really is a piece of paradise. At our final stop off, after a tasty and nutritious lunch, adventurous Ciaran goes for a hike. I grab some ice cream, catch up on my writing and head to a lovely stone church. A woman comes in with a small bikini riding up her buttocks. She plants her virtually nude behind on the wooden pews. I wonder how many bare bum cheeks have previously sat in my very seat.
After some quiet time, I walk towards the other end of the beach. If the water proves too irresistible, I don’t want anyone from the boat to see me in my bikini. I still have a long way to go feeling at ease with my body on the beach.
Sure enough, the call of the Adriatic is too strong. I see that one can go quite far with minimal swimming ability. I find a discreet corner to slip on my two-piece. I ask a kindly stranger to watch my stuff. I wade in to the sea as far as possible before removing my skirt. The water is surprisingly cool. I squat to avoid exposing my thighs and rear end. I feel somewhat liberated and pleased with the contrast of cold water and the heat.
Ciaran and I reconnect later, exchanging about our afternoon adventure. Back on the boat we continue a conversation with a couple who've met on that very holiday. Neither are proficient English speakers but it’s the sole language they have in common. Ciaran tries to draw them into our own discussion but there’s only so much they can follow. The nearly-eight hour excursion wizzes by. I tell Ciaran of my plans to ride the cable car to Mount Srd before sunset. He asks if I’d like to join him for dinner later. It would be a pleasure except there’s no time before the last bus. We settle for more in-depth conversation over late afternoon smoothies. Ciaran treats me for the second time. By the end of our chat, we’re already discussing him coming to visit me in Brussels later in the year.
I head back to town with apprehension, not certain I’ll be able to visit Mt. Srd and make it back in time for the bus. At the ticket office I’m told it’s an eight minute round trip. Great. My initial plan is go up and come straight back down.
I’m pretty nervous on the ascent. I look at the rocky terrain and laugh inwardly at prior plans to trek back down by foot.
Hell, no.
At the top, the view of the Old City below, distant hills and islands is so captivating, it puts paid to the idea of a swift return.
I came at the right time. The air is cooling and the sun is slowly beginning its descent. Only the call of the last bus to Slano pulls me away. Once again, coming full circle, I arrive at Dubrovnik just in time to catch my ride back.
At night, after dinner at the guesthouse, I watch shoals of diverse fish dance around the lights of a small ferry docked at the bay.
Soundtrack: All'n'All + That's the Way of the World by Earth, Wind & Fire
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