From Korcula Town to the tip of Mljet

Wednesday, October 07, 2015

Pomena, Dalmatia, Croatia

While swimming in the Adriatic the other day I swallowed a bit of water and noticed that it didn't taste particularly salty.

Elenka's pretty, multi-coloured hiking dress

Puzzled, I went up to the apartment, whipped out my device and went googling. Turns out the Adriatic collects a full third of the fresh water flowing into the Mediterranean group of seas. This in turn causes much of the salt to be washed downward, out of the Adriatic and into the Mediterranean. This may or may not account for the Adriatic's pristine clarity.

When Elenka and I travel I often feel the need for adventure and human adversity. India, Turkey, Morocco and a few other kooky countries spark this in me. After more than two weeks of travelling amongst the genuinely friendly, helpful people of Croatia I was becoming antsy, bored. Then we met the friendly man who owns the hotel, or apartment building where we're now staying in the village of Pomena on Mljet Island. We were soon to learn however, that he's almost never here and there are no other guests. He doesn't speak a word of English and I have doubts about his Croatian. Generally, Elenka, with her Slovak language skills, can express basic needs in other Slavic languages but not this time around. Sign language doesn't even work - like when I rather vulgarly attempted to express our need for a fresh roll of toilet paper. (There's a list of what's not quite right at this place in the attached terrace photo)

Elenka wanted to negotiate a lower rate with the man because of the lack of basic amenities. I asked her how she was planning on conducting something as complex as room rate negotiation with a man who can't clue into the fact that our bums occasionally need wiping. She gave up on the idea. We'd have already been gone from this place, but it does have a fabulous private terrace, it's right on the sea, and the sun sets in front of us every evening. For those three pleasures Elenka would happily sleep on a chair in the cold. And it's okay with me too; dealing with this man has made me feel kind of real again. The man has no Turkish characteristics, but I can see a sort of Indian/Moroccan hybrid in him.

Yesterday, we went for a hike in Mljet National Park. We took a boat to an island where we had an entire 12th century monastery to ourselves. There were a pair of beautiful asses (photos provided) outside the vacant monastery that we both stroked at length. At the end of our hike, as we walked toward the park exit we encountered a group of 30 - 40 hikers who were mostly dressed in Tilley-type, safari-gear. I casually watched as four safari-garbed hikers looked at Elenka who was wearing a pretty multi-coloured dress, and then down at what they themselves were wearing. This scene won out over the 12th century edifice by a nose. Soon we'll be in Montenegro; if I can find just one nasty bastard I'll be back at the top of my game.