Going backwards; or up the creek without a paddle

There is something magical about canoeing; the gentle plap-plap over the waves, the swirl of the water under the paddles, and the light fizzing around like pop on a hot day. Leaning over to look in to the deep blue-turquoise water is as close to heaven as I can get. So this is why on Thursday after an obligatory trip to Pomena for some cash, I popped in to our local Little Heaven and asked for paddles. The sensible one had gone to get water and put her money in the apartment; mine would have just got saltily damp in the event of an emergency landing. My water would have just got wet.

More of that later.

So we had a vessel each (I don't do sharing), appropriate clothing, everything stowed in the wrong place (me), and were ready for launch. We shoved the first one into the water, then the other...luckily one had a leading rein so we could stop it making a bid for freedom. Being chivalrous, I assisted the careful one to clamber elegantly aboard, and off she went proudly displaying walking boots as figurehead. Astonishingly I got myself settled without mishap.

Although having my rucksack - containing phone and bottle of water - utterly out of reach was annoying.

Off we went, boldly striking out into the blue. There was no longer a gale blowing but the stiff breeze was still making paddling a challenge. My shoulders were pre-emptively groaning in anticipation of the next morning's physical effort. The athletic one was already miles away and heading for open sea; I was happy to let the wind guide me and I gently drifted to the other side of the lake. The goal was to get to Veliki Most and possibly to moor up for a swim.

The Big lake for the most part is more like canoeing on the open sea, though we had already noted that there was unlikely to be a contretemps between us and a high-speed catamaran. My 40-something birthday canoeing trip to Lopud for tea and a bun had obviously stayed in our memories... But this was a far more peaceful experience; paddle, stop, paddle, drift, stop, paddle, ooo swat wasp. I was getting a little thirsty but the bridge was coming into view.

I have wanted to paddle under the perfectly elegant bridge for a while. It marks the change from Big Lake into Solinski Kanal and the direction of water flowing underneath changes depending on the tide. In this case, we shot through without need for a paddle. You emerge into the calmest aquamarine pool of perfection - it is this colour simply because it's sandy underneath and not too deep. The long nosed fish which I have just failed to identify were happy to mill around beneath me.

The highlight of the trip was the flash of copper and deep iridescent blue...a busy kingfisher was taking advantage of the stillness and was catching his lunch. He flitted between the foliage and disappeared into the undergrowth. Stunning and a moment to cherish forever.

The moment of calm turned into something else as suddenly the wasps decided that they wanted to come canoeing too. Whether it was the warmth, lack of wind, or moisture on my skin, there was an increasing annoyance of them. And it got worse. I was following the speedy one to the channel's barrier and there looked to be a sensible spot to pull up and retrieve my water - which as you recall was inaccessible, stowed in the back of my vessel.

Never before have I had such a tussle of wasp v dehydration. I was in a swarm. I grabbed my water bottle, not caring if anything was re-waterproofed and leapt back in to the canoe in a complete cloud of the evil ones. Inevitably I was stung. Shaking, I paddled away as fast as possible, eager to escape back on to the water. It wasn't the most pleasant of experiences but it could have been worse.

We headed back through the channel and under the bridge. We waved to the people above us as they were the lovely couple who would be sharing a taxi to Sobra the following morning. As quickly as they appeared, the wasps ceased to trouble us - they must dislike the wide open deep water. We paddled back towards home, and hysterically disembarked. There was much slipping on the rocks, and a paddle splooshed into the sea. Oh. There was no quick way to retrieve it and it just floated there, taunting us. Out of reach.

We stood there, doubled up laughing, unable to move . Finally I yanked on one of the dry canoes as it was in the way, having forgotten that it was tied to one of ours, safely bobbing about. Dithering, some wise-spark yelled to get my shoes back on. In this way I could negotiate the rocks to retrieve the still-in-the-sea one's figurehead boots. Ah yes. She was getting impatient with my continuing hysterical giggles. We hauled one of the canoes ashore, and fished out the errant paddle. Finally everything was out, and bags were safe and dry.

Unlike my bum. I think at this point it resembled a prune. A salted one, with an extra sprinkling of salt.

We retired to our favourite bar, hot, sweaty, wet and the older man laughed at my mokra guzica... With this hilarity in mind, I had to attend my company's annual meeting. So it was a very swift beer before heading back to make myself respectable and serious. Work over, I rejoined the sunny one, and was more than ready for the goat pekar. Kakve dan je bio!!

Up the creek with a paddle.

The plan.

Go to town. Get cash. Hire a pair of kayaks. Try not to drown. Eat goat.

So, confession time. It's really difficult writing about things that have happened a few days ago, especially when the most reliable dataz is in the Mali Raj. Where there iz booze. The confession is I got my days wrong, we didn't have goat last night, it was something that would happen tonight. How could I forget that? Easy... Airhead.

Anyhoo. Kayaks.

The last time I was in a kayak was for Missy's birthday two years ago. Now that was a fab day. Getting up at how early and then borrowing some of Marija's kayaks to head to Lopud for tea and doughnuts. All before returning before the fee paying tourists turned up. Amazingly I didn't write about the night before at the time. Maybe one best kept for my posthumous memoirs. All I'll say is that rumours of me dancing in Teo's bar in my nightie are entirely true...

The walking was definitely getting easier, though I still arrived in Pomena looking a little like somebody had thrown a bucket of water over me. It's never good being a fat lass. Funds secured we headed back to Babine Kuće. Our intention was to hire from our local favourite bar. The fact that it was our only bar was quite academic. As we approached I decided to nip back to base to collect my water bottle because I'm an idiot and I'd forgotten it earlier.

By the time I returned the nautical one was standing with two paddles and her best confused face. She wasn't sure where the kayaks were. Fortunately, in a rare moment of being observant, I'd noticed them earlier so off we trotted to chose our rides.

Yet again I was reminded that I really ought to get some of those whizzy shoes you can wear in water as frankly my Gore-Tex hiking boots weren't exactly the ideal thing for plodging. Which was why they were redeployed as a figure head on the newly named "VJS Old Boot". A fine vessel. Shame I hadn't noticed that I was sitting on a buckle. More on this later.

Missy paddled off like a duck to water as I faffed putting things in to a sealed bag. By the time I finally started moving I realised she was a duck to water that likes going backwards. I don't think she'd read the manual.

It really was a horrible way to spend the day.

What was also really horrible was that we kept having to share it with wasps. Quite why so many would be wandering around in the middle of a lake was utterly beyond me! Stupid creatures.

We vaguely paddled off in the general direction of Soline so that we could go under the lovely bridge and through the Solinski kanal - not a euphemism. Normally we would be taking many photographs but the constant swatting of the wasps made this a precarious thing to do. Every now and then we'd get a fabulous breeze which would make things difficult for wasps so there would be a little relief. Trouble was, it was also difficult for the dainty one, she'd given up fighting the breeze and was now a couple of hundred yards away. Oh. Bye!

We regrouped as the bridge loomed passing through in perfect formation, well, perfectish. With swatting. But it seemed to impress people on the banks. The good thing is we could now actually see the bottom. The Veliko Jezera is incredibly clear but also incredibly deep so it was quite a novelty. Unlike the wasps. Which weren't.

In the distance I could see something across the water which looked vaguely like an obstruction, as I approached I could see that it was actually navigable, you just had to do a couple of turns, a bit like the sort of thing you see on paths to stop cycles, only bigger. I at first presumed it was to stop vessels from entering the lakes, which to be honest seemed unlikely as the water was, well, rather shallow. Later I read that it's a mechanism to let rubbish leave the lakes but prevent stuff from getting back in.

Frightfully clever these Croatians.

As I turned I saw that the adventurous one had beached her kayak and was busy pull it higher on to land. It wasn't as I thought so we could go for refreshments at the bar we'd been to a few days earlier, but rather because she'd put her bag with water and phone out of reach in the stern of the boat. Daft mare.

But before I realised this I thought I'd also best beach the kayak only to find she'd discovered every wasp that we'd missed whilst out on the water. And they liked her so much. It was all a bit scary. He pushed me back so I could at least make a get away whilst she desperately tried to get going as quickly as possible. It was not going well.

Amazingly she was only stung the once.

We headed back. Passing under the bridge once more we saw the couple that she'd accosted the other night to share a ride to Sorba. I think they might have by now realised we were a bit mad. Better than being dull.

Somewhere on the Veliko Jezera we found a spot to just sit. Little breeze. No wasps. We nattered. I went to take a picture and saw the boss had messaged me on Skype so I replied and said I wouldn't be able to look at the problem just then as I was not in the best of places. Needless to say I then sent a picture of us on the lake.

I think he now hates me just that little bit more!

Paddling back was a mixture of wasps and no wasps, but still a lovely way to spend time, however we decided enough was enough, navigated back to shore and once we were out and the boats carefuly stowed we scampered off to Mali Raj for much needed refreshment.

Eventually my guilt kicked in so I scampered back to base to collect the iBastard and do a little work. The busy one was going to be working later anyway as she had a company meeting to attend - virtually - so it seemed like good timing.

She had a little time to play though, but one thing puzzled me, she kept wittering on about making herself look presentable. I really couldn't see what the problem was.

Well, okay, maybe her glasses were a little salty.

And her skin. And clothes. Actually, come to think of it, I could probably do with a rinse too.

Of course I didn't at all troll said boss with pictures of Hildebrand's Croatian office. That would have been mean...

As it turned out there wasn't a problem as such but it did highlight something else I need to do to prevent user generated issues. Now this is the point where most people express amazement that I'm working on what is most definitely a holiday. But this is normal, when things happen they have to be dealt with and if I don't I'd only worry about it all.

As the afternoon wore one I did two things, one was practice saying još jedan molim, probably the wrong thing to say, but I didn't have a handy polyglot to check with. And it's important to practice. The other was to write. I'm slowly getting back in to the swing of writing again though I'm still struggling to find my mojo.

As day drifted in to evening and the sun began to set Goaty McDinnerface made its appearance. Of course you will know this if you read yesterday's thrilling instalment, but this time it actually happened. And there were pictures. Brief ones as we positively stuffed our faces.

A meal so good it had to be blogged about twice.

I could have happily had it again, but, y'know, diet...

Now normally this would end with tales of late night cackling as just had one more. And then one on the house. But tonight we had to head to bed early. The ferry would be leaving at jeeeeeez o'clock from Sorba which meant our taxi would be arriving at 5am.

If the doesn't like getting up early one complains even once...