Wednesday 26 September 2018

Writing. Beer. Perfection

It is a truth universally acknowledged that being in possession of a regular income is a 'good thing'. Since February I have enjoyed a full time job with all the benefits that brings. Like being able to afford cocktails, cars, dinner out, or even the odd vacation. Contrary to popular belief when you spend two-thirds of your time working from your place abroad, it doesn't always mean that you are on the beach.

Oh. Well not all the time. Sometimes you have to do your chores like a normal person.

Anyway after a relentless few months of 40 hours per week, I was exhausted. Taking a few days off was probably best for all concerned. My 4 weeks in the UK were pretty bloody awful and I needed space. But where to go in late September? I live part of my time in one of the most beautiful parts of the world, so it is tempting just to stay put. However island life remains in my blood, so I booked a week in a green and blue paradise. I have been to Mljet before; it had been late Summer and comically bad weather meant I got stranded.

What could go wrong, I thought, as the Split summer seemed to drag on endlessly?

A drunken evening meant that the Quiet One finally caved, and booked return flights to Split. She'd never actually seen my VaroŇ° eyrie and hasn't had a holiday in about a million years (she never mentions that). Although I don't mind spending time alone, where I had booked for my week of quiet was truly special and it needed sharing. She would appreciate it, and I really want her to rediscover the writing mojo.

So a few weeks later and here we are sat by the stunning lakes of Mljet's National Park. Writing. Beer. Perfection.

Writing. Beer. Perfection.
My holiday had already started with a perfect weekend; sun, sea, strolls in the forest park. Saturday lunch time had been an exquisite meal of light salads in my local restaurant. The semifreddo which arrived gratis was clearly calorie-free. It was inevitable given my general levels of tiredness that some timings would go to pot. I thought the Essex one would arrive midnight on Sunday. Turns out she was leaving at midday Sunday, arriving at 4pm.

Ooops. The Melting One arrived off the aeroplane dressed for autumn. Split was 20 degrees warmer than in the UK.

Some other friends from the UK were here and given the balmy evening we dressed up and hit the bars. Espresso martinis, plum liqueurs, laughter, and a very cute gentleman made the Sunday evening fly by. The early wake up was interesting, as was the holiday packing and repacking. Did anyone remind me that I had left watermelon in the fridge? The forecast was showing promises of inclemency, but Monday morning continued with the sweltering theme. We dashed sweatily to the 7.40am catamaran, and enjoyed the aircon. Ok, to be fair I enjoyed the heat and vroominess of its rather large engines as we scooted across the perfect blue.

Tiny golden Korcula made me nostalgic, and the ominously cloud-topped majestic mountains of Peljesac left me speechless.

We arrived on Mljet and had no idea where we were going. Crying with laughter, she resembled the newly appointed, overtly English detective from Death in Paradise; complete with posh little wheeled suitcase and a lost, sweaty look. We did the only thing possible, we stopped at the first bar, had a beer and checked the map. I contacted the AirBnB people to confirm where they were in the park. We continued to marvel at the astonishing high definition colour, and noted the big white clouds coming from the north.


We set up off the road and turned off to enter the national park. There were steep steps, a crazy paving path, and the first major incline caused minor consternation. The wheelie case got an entire quarriful of pebbles in its wheels and protested as much as the Visiting one. Once on tarmac, we proceeded a-pace and found the Mali Raj konobar in Babina Kuce. Our little place was obviously up more stairs, and our hosts were happy to see us. We abandoned our stuff - including the sulking dusty wheelie case - in favour of a slab of plum-cake and some refreshing mountain tea.

We both changed into something more summery and set off for a gentle walk into Pomena, ostensibly for something to eat. By the time we got into the village, we realised that the clouds had really meant business. We scuttled into the Studenac for supplies and Bura blew us back home.

Looks like the Mljet weather has struck again!

1 comment:

  1. Reading your blog makes me feel hot, sweaty and sunburned, and refreshed too. London reality is something else entirely though, autumn is arriving here even if we're not ready to say farewell to our great summer. Could do with some of that chilled watermelon.