Venezia

Siamo in italia

Yesterday we were in three countries, passing from Croatia to Slovenia
and into Italy, covering a little over 200km.

At one point Jesse's leaking tire was a cause for major concern, and
he was starting to think a bus would be in order; fortunately we met
an Italian with a pump dispensing "magic air" that kept the thing
inflated for the rest of the day. It also allowed us to reach the
Italian border, where Jesse amused the drivers with his displays of
love and affection for the Italia sign - when he peeled himself away
we were able to roll across into his promised land.

Today: victory laps in St Mark's square.

--
Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Croatian charity

I am typing this from a cot in a Franciscan monastery on the island of
Cres, where we were able to take shelter from a vicious thunderstorm
that prevented us reaching our destination for the day.

Having disembarked from our ferry, we were making good time when the
sky turned black, the rain started bucketing, and the wind started
blowing over the road signs. Thinking discretion the better form of
valour, we sought shelter in town instead of pressing on into the
gathering dark of the evening. However, not only was there no room at
any of the inns, but several people looked at the two desperate
travellers and laughed, or suggested we head out into the tempest for
the next town. This would be less disconcerting were it not the latest
in a long line of generally rude and unhelpful Croatians in hotels,
tourist offices and restaurants, making it instead the final straw.
(Jesse wants me to add that although this morning we were in a four
star hotel, he found people in Zadar so awful that he's far happier on
a stone floor this evening).

Our last resort tonight was an old barn with the door ajar; the
penultimate resort was this monastery where, after some coaxing
(involving Jesse waving his crucifix around) and some displays of
appropriate desperation, we have received some "caritas" (food and pot
of pasta) for which we are extremely grateful. It is nevertheless
still worth noting that none of the people who took us in are
Croatians; in one of life's nice little ironies the most helpful
people we've found in Croatia are a bunch of Germans...

Must go, monk giving me dirty look for playing with phone after lights
out. Ciao.

--
Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Hvar

After spending the morning on ferries hopping from Korcula to mainland
and back out to the islands, we rode the length of the island of Hvar,
a distance of some 80km. This ride offered, especially at the
relatively deserted eastern end, some of the best vistas we've yet
seen, but was let down in the overall rankings by the often dodgy road
quality.

Arriving at Hvar - a pretty little fishing port now glitzed up with
five star hotels - we set about the usual task of locating
accommodation. For most of Croatia so far this has been a matter of
spotting someone offering "sobe - zimmer - camere - apartamani" and
asking them for the room in their house. These places tend to lack
some of the creature comforts of the hotels (phones, TVs, breakfast)
but they are also not outrageously over-priced. At the end of the
day's riding all we really need is a shower and a bed, though over the
last couple of days we seem to have neglected the former in favor of
jumping into the sea with the locals. Needless to say, we are perhaps
not as clean as we should be...

The evening in Hvar passed without incident, occupied mainly by a big
dinner and some people-watching. We established that of all the
fabulous people promenading around the place, we were certainly the
only ones with beards, and most likely the scruffiest. Then again, we
were also the only ones who'd arrived in town by bicycle, so at least
we had that excuse...

--
Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Korcula and Dubrovnik

We arrived in Dubrovnik on Monday evening, and are currently on a
ferry from the island of Korcula, heading for the island of Hvar,
kepping away from the busy coastal road by island-hopping instead.

Dubrovnik was great, a very Venetian old town surrounded by sea walls
that we ended up clambering around in search of what Jesse assured me
would be a better place to swim. After some rock climbing and the old
"swimming / keeping valuables dry with one arm in the air" trick, we
made an amphibious landing at a secret bar tucked into the rocks
between the walls and the sea. Several sundowners and some excellent
banter with the Aussies later, it was time to return to the convent
where we had secured rooms for the night (yes, you read that right,
the convent).

Yesterday we rode 130km out from Dubrovnik along the coastal road,
then a peninsula heading out to the islands. Beautiful riding through
vineyards, mountains, all with glorious views of the Adriatic in the
background. Eventually we rolled into a small ferry-port, taking a
boat across the strait to Korcula, which turned out to be a slightly
dubious backpacker haven and also where two old friends from Oxford
were on holiday. Small world...

--
Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Dubrovnik at last

Andrew refuelling in Croatia