No way... we're in Norway!

14 August 2017 - 25 August 2017

A significant birthday for Scott made the perfect excuse for the Gilmour family to all meet up in Norway for a hiking trip together. We flew into Bergen from our various corners of the world and arrived at a beautiful hotel near the historic Bryggen part of town. The first highlight (after catching up with the family) was the breakfast - walking into the huge breakfast room was overwhelming. Imagine every type of breakfast from any corner of the world and it was probably there. We wandered around stunned for the first ten minutes before diving in and eating far too much. 

Sufficiently fuelled up we headed into town to join the free walking tour and then had a great hike up to the top of Ulriken, one of the seven mountains surrounding Bergen. Other than our flight in this was our first real taste of Norwegian scenery. In each direction you were seeing a variation of mountain ranges and sea views, all mixed in with fjords. It was stunning.

 

But why have a photo of Norwegian scenery when you can have a photo of Mark instead

The real reason for our trip to Norway was hiking so after another massive breakfast we met up with the tour guides who would be taking us around Norway. What followed was nine days wandering through the beautiful Norwegian scenery. The tour company we used had organised a great itinerary with a good mixture of hikes. We would be transported to a fabulous hotel and each day go on a hike in the area near the hotel before heading back to enjoy the local hospitality. 

 

The kids on tour in Norway.

The first hotel we stayed at on the hiking trip, the Walaker Hotel, is the oldest hotel in Norway and has been managed by the same family for nine generations. Each evening at the hotel there was a four course dinner, with ingredients sourced from the local area - including reindeer! The very enthusiastic owner gave a talk about the history of the hotel and surrounding area. It completely blows your mind as a New Zealander when he just casually mentions the Viking swords that they found on the property when they were doing renovations. 

We hiked up to the hut at the Flatbre glacier. It was warm enough for sunbathing while we had lunch up at the hut.  The views were just amazing. We were able to see right out over the fjord for miles. And the glacier was the most incredible colour of blue. The boys decided to do an extra hike to a rocky outcrop with a viewpoint in the middle of the glacier. The hiking was perfectly complemented with the blueberries and raspberries on the side of the track that we all gorged ourselves on.

Ian at a lake en-route.

And Mark at the glacier

After three nights at the Walaker hotel we had a bit of a walk on the Old Kings road and stopped off at a stave church at Borgund which was built around 1180.  Our next stop was a viewing platform. Its hard to describe how amazing this was. The platform is 650 metres above the fjord and hangs 30 metres above the mountain. It was all glass and the views were huge. Our destination was the town of Flam, which translates as "the little place between steep mountains". What an appropriate name!

We had dinner down at the water front and spent a considerable period of time mocking the couple who were trying to capture the perfect photo of them and the fjord on the end of a little pier.  

In fairness, it was a nice spot for doing just that... 

The first hike from Flam was one of the favourites. We were wandering through more beautiful scenery, and historic old farms. As we reached the old farms there were cute little houses which were dug into the mountain and had grass on their roofs, so they were hidden away into the hills. So hidden that Mark just casually walked up a hill that turned out to be the roof of a building. 

Rüfgrassen in Flam

The scenery just got better and better as we walked. It was constantly changing and there were waterfalls everywhere. Overcome with the beauty of it all Mark jumped into the river for a (very brief) swim. He carefully waited until the track was clear to strip off and jump in, only to have a group of elderly women wander around the track and get the best view of their day. 

The rest of you will have to be content with this picture of a waterfall instead.

Norway: full of beautiful waterfalls and gorgeous women.

And underground roundabouts!

From the beautiful scenery of one day the following day we were subjected to some real Norwegian weather. Foggy and cold and unable to see much. We were all grateful that the hike for that day was scheduled to be quite a short one. In the afternoon we had a bit of a field trip to go and visit the town located at the narrowest fjord. 

And then we stumbled across an outdoor wear photo shoot.

The final hotel we headed to was in the most beautiful location yet. The views were unbelievable and seemed to carry on forever. We were right on the waterfront of the fjord. There was a great pool which went from the indoors then with a lazy river turned into an outdoor pool. Some of us were brave enough to jump into the fjord for a swim. And Bridget was brave enough to push Mary into the fjord for a swim.

Over the past couple of days there had been various discussions about the hiking programme being amended so we could do the hike to Trolltunga. The main guide wasn't keen to go but the other guide was. The discussions culminated with a fairly robust discussion about the options and the logistics involved to make it all work. In the end the group split in half with Ian, Leeyan, Annie and Mark deciding to get up and out the door at 5.30am to avoid the crowds at Trolltunga.

[M- Not content with being up nice and early, Ian and I decided to run the 11km from the carpark to the tongue. It was actually a beautiful, if hilly, route to get out there, although *way* more crowded than anything else we had done in Norway. Despite the psychological boost of constantly overtaking people, it was a struggle piece of cake to keep up with Ian and all of his ultramarathon training, so it was a relief no big deal when the actual tongue of rock finally appeared. For anyone else considering, It took us about 2:15 to get there, arriving at 0900 there were already half a dozen people in the queue (all campers), and it really started getting crowded about 1030. Early is definitely the way to go, if not camping overnight nearer the site.

It was pretty entertaining catching my breath at the vantage point where all the iconic photos are taken from. Some people had some reasonably creative poses, including the three naked guys just before the girls arrived. At one stage a couple brought their dog out with them. It ran up to the edge to a generalised chorus of of dismay from the peanut gallery, looked down the hundreds of metre drop, and promptly scarpered back to safety with its tail between its legs. -M]

Mark & Annie at Trolltunga

Ian standing on a little rock outcropping above a waterfall Mark spotted from afar. Another one of those places that photos just don't do justice to.

The rest of us, Bridget, Scott, Mary and I went for a walk that was closer to the hotel and didn't require a 5.30am start. As is becoming a bit of a theme the views were awesome again. The fjord, the mountains and waterfalls! 

And our own little Trolltunga!

For our final hike the guides outdid themselves. The track was fairly vertical and had lots of ropes and wooden ladders to get us up to the Kjeasen farm at the top of the hill. Mary was being subjected to a whole lot of advice from everyone - then she ditched her walking poles and ended up hooning up the hill. In between watching our step there were the usual dramatic views!

Zoom!

We made our way back to Bergen for the final dinner together. The following day Annie and Bridget had to return to New Zealand to go back to work. The rest of us kids were flying with Scott and Mary to Naples, Italy where we were going to have another week together hiking in the Amalfi Coast.

Going Dutch...

9 August 2017 - 13 August 2017

Once we got to Amsterdam we continued our theme of oh man we really have spent so much time together anybody else please hang out with us... Hayley had been in town for a work conference and we gate crashed her and Ryan's trip after she had finished at her conference. A couple of days later Sarah and Andrew joined us all for the weekend. 

As we no longer had the van we were able to stay right in the middle of the city. It was great being able to wander around the central city in the evenings. But the best way to get around Amsterdam is on bikes! Mark had been looking forward to the opportunity of exploring the city by bike so he would be able to start insufferably blathering on about how great the Amsterdam cycle infrastructure is compared to Auckland's paucity of bike paths every time the topic came up back home.

For the first day or so we were in full on tourist mode and went for a canal cruise around the city one evening. We got to see the city sights from the water and learnt a bit of the history of the area. This was great as we had done zero research about what we might find in Amsterdam. 

Not just drugs and hookers, apparently.

We hired bicycles for a couple of days and with the help of a handy bicycle route map we headed out of the central city to explore the rural surrounds. We all got off to a great start and were happily zooming along the great paths that are all over the city.

Cycling along on top of a dyke. Only a windmill could make this more Dutch.

Unfortunately shortly after this happy photo my front tyre went flat. The guy we rented the bikes from was pretty disinterested, we could bring the bike back for a replacement, but we were right across town from the store. Not to worry - our handy cycle map has plenty of bike repair shops marked on it. With the help of the bike map and google we headed to the bike repair shop. The sign in Dutch was dutifully translated - closed as we are away for summer holidays. Not to worry - we are in Amsterdam where there are so many bikes that there is a handy app for flat tyres - just put in your location and someone arrives to repair the flat tyre for you. Error - you are too far from the central city for us to come and help you. Back to the bike map to try and find another repair shop. It was the fifth shop we tried before we found one that both existed and was open. 

We had to travel a reasonable distance to be able to get the bike to each of these putative bike shops. With limited tools and no bungee cords Mark ended up attaching my bike to the tray on the front of his bike with the two bike locks that we had. This provided a fairly unstable load that swung about as he pedalled. 

[M- also, it was a heavy great steel bike, so I was effectively adding a huge extra mass attached to my forks and centred well out in front of the steering axis, that also had a pretty big moment of inertia. Thanks to just having done my 4th year project on a similar topic, I had a reasonable theoretical, understanding of exactly why this made riding—let alone steering—incredibly difficult and unstable. This was a great comfort to me as I careened wildly back and forth across the road in front of angry Dutchmen,  and repeatedly crashed into bushes and the occasional lamp post. -M]

With my front inner tube replaced we continued merrily on our way for a while. Then - oh no not again - thankfully we had done a big loop around the area the bike repair shop was in so it didn't seem like too much of a mission to get the bike back to the store. I started the task of pushing the bike back towards the store. 

Then a bird shat on me. Fairly extensively.

By this point we figured there was some kind of higher being suggesting we really shouldn't do this bike ride.

Very gracefully pushing the bike through the mall towards the bike repair shop... again

A repair job on the new inner tube and we were away. We decided on a shorter scenic loop which was really great once we were finally able to get going.

All smiles after our day of bike adventures

Sarah and Andrew arrived late on Friday night so we all caught up on Saturday morning and jumped on the train to Utrecht, about a half hour train ride away. We braved the heights and climbed up the Dom tower of Utrecht - only 465 steps to the top. On a clear day you are meant to be able to see back to Amsterdam. 

Friends!

Once we had exhausted Utrecht's delights we headed back to Amsterdam for the evening to sample more of the city's delights. The following day after a traditional Dutch breakfast of massive pancakes we flew to Bergen to meet up with Mark's family for a Gilmour family hiking trip in Norway. 

A quick trip to the United States

29 July 2017 - 8 August 2017

Mark's Grandpa (Mary's dad) passed away in March and the Sinsky family were gathering in Milwaukee for his interment.  Mark and I decided to have a quick break from Europe and head across the Atlantic to be a part of it all. 

Mark's mum Mary has eight brothers - John, Jim, Jerry, Mark, Bill, Mike, Joe and Tom. This was my first time meeting any of them (and many of the 26 grandchildren) so why not do it in an intense weekend of festivities with them all?! 

We had a very competitive croquet competition before heading to the Racquet Club for dinner. Mary took us on a trip down memory lane as we visited the house her dad lived in and the house where she grew up. I also had the chance to meet Mark's grandma Gina. Sadly, Gina passed away less than two weeks later.

From Milwaukee we were lucky to head up to Star Lake in the North Woods of Wisconsin. This was a fantastic few days with Uncle John and Abbey, Uncle Bill and Kerry, five of their six kids plus other halves.

We spent the days in and on the water - paddle boarding, water skiing, cocktail cruises, conquering an insanely tricky where's wally puzzle on the rainy day and eating plenty of great food. We did some paddle boarding at dusk and got up close to a Bald Eagle's nest that we had seen during our cocktail cruise. He was close enough to hear the baby eagles cheeping.  and watch them catch and eat fish. The beautiful calm flat water was also perfect for hearing the loons call - a type of bird that has a call like a wolf's howl. Very atmospheric.

Mark looking across the lake towards the Eagle's nest

Evening paddle boarding

We also managed to fit in a visit to a supper club where we managed to try some local delicacies - deep fried cheese curds and a brandy old fashioned.

Dining at the supper club with a delicious elderflower martini

We had a truly local North Woods experience on the Saturday night with Uncle Bill. He took us to watch the Plum Lake Ski-ters Water Ski Show Team. This was a local water ski club that has been putting on a show on Saturday nights during the summer for the last 58 years. The club also competes at the national level, so the shows are like practices for them. The very loose theme of the show was feedback that they have received from judges about things they could improve on. We then had half an hour of the coolest water skiing you have seen - jumps, bare footing, a pyramid three levels high and a girl being lifted gracefully over a guys head (as he skiied) and then plummeting into the water when they had a small muck up. Given it was an amateur team there were fairly regular falls or failures which was half of the fun of it! There was lots of audience participation with yelling and cheering at random times, and an absolutely fantastic showman as MC. At half time there was a lightning storm and they had to call the show to an end for safety reasons. I've never been so disappointed to miss out on the second half of an amateur water ski show in my life. 

From the Ski-ters show we headed to Stillwaters the tavern, a twenty minute walk from the lake house. Saturday night was karaoke night. This was not your ordinary drunk too much yelling karaoke. This was holy shit these people can sing karaoke. A highlight was the bar maid singing awesomely while simultaneously continuing to pour drinks and serve customers!

Stillwaters tavern with Uncle Bill (and Johnny-no-cash, a karaoke regular, in the background)

After an awesome few days at the lake it was time to head back to Milwaukee itself. We had timed our visit perfectly to coincide with the Wisconsin State Fair. The State Fair seems to be famous for cream puffs (they were yum) and food on a stick. There was a double page full of food on a stick that you could purchase - including bacon wrapped olives on a stick, deep fried cookie dough on a stick, chocolate covered cheesecake on a stick, and mini sliders on a stick. Mark was gutted that he couldn't find deep fried butter on a stick. (If it was going to be anywhere in the world it would be here!) In between eating far too many Wisconsin delicacies we watched the pig racing, a seal show and checked out the prize winning vegetables. 

Maybe not the "best day ever" but it was pretty great.

The pig racing track - complete with hilarious commentator and his side kick "Ham Bone"

Markie feeling right at home

After our very enjoyable ten days in the US it was now time to return to our travels in Europe. Our next stop is Amsterdam where we are catching up with friends for a few days.

Making tracks across Europe

15 July 2017 - 28 July 2017

We made a fairly last minute decision to join my parents for the interment of grandpa's ashes in Milwaukee at the beginning of August. This meant rather than spending the next four weeks making our way from Croatia to London we would instead spend only two weeks. What then follows is a bit of a whistle stop tour through Europe.

First on the list was Slovenia. We stayed at a "camp ground" near the capital Ljubljana that was essentially a car park with a shower facility. Unfortunately, the toilets were blocked and there was mystery water coming back out of the drains in the floor. I would like to go back to Ljubljana as I don't think we really gave it a fair chance. By this stage of our trip it had been really hot (high 30's) for many days and we had been on the road for a while - so we were both a bit tired and cranky. We did a walking tour there but it was not overly noteworthy. An art installation where sprinklers stretched across the street way overhead made it rain in one particular spot was appreciated. The highlight was the night at the camp ground having drinks with a mid-fifties couple from Christchurch in their caravan. [F- Slovenian wine is excellent.]

The town of Bled with it's beautiful lake was much more of a hit with us. It was much cooler in the shade by the lake with a couple of books. We hired paddle boards and had a lovely time paddling downwind to the church on the island, with great views of the castle on the cliff above where we'd started from. Then on the way back we had a bit of a mission returning into the teeth of the headwind and trying to make our paddle-board return deadline. Good exercise for Frank, and another bloke doing the same thing looked absolutely bushed when he made it back.

So happy we had time for selfies.

All smiles as we head downwind...

Next stop on the whirlwind tour was Austria. Although to begin with we didn't actually realise we were in Austria... We have got so used to borders involving us handing over massive piles of paperwork and showing border guards through the contents of our van. This border, which was really just a line on Google maps and a "welcome to Austria" sign, went past more or less unnoticed by us. 

Austria reminded us of New Zealand, but bigger.  

So massive.

We stayed at delightful little mountain campgrounds such as "Alpencamping Mark," where we tried at hand at slack-lining once all the kids who normally monopolised had had gone off for their horse riding and archery. Frank was surprised to see cows living in the ground floor of people houses in such a rich country when she strolled through the village. All the little villages we drove through were super-pretty by the way, the actual style of buildings every ski-village in the world tries to copy, and most surfaces covered in pretty flower boxes somehow always in full bloom.

We then had a quick trip through Germany. It was mainly a driving trip as we made our way further west. Frank was keen to have Black Forest cake in the Black Forest so we made sure to stop on the way so we could tick that off. [It was yum - F]. That night, in our campground in the depths of the black forest, the heavens opened up for an unthinkably massive donner und blitzen sturm. We appreciated this through the sunroof and were glad that we weren't in a tent.

We had read about Strasbourg and it seemed like a good place to make a stop for a couple of days. We had the unusual experience of staying in a camp ground in Germany and then catching the train into the middle of the city - which was in France!

Scenic cycling in Strasbourg

Where's Markie?

One of our evenings in Strasbourg we decided to eat at the restaurant based at our camp site. My German extended to knowing that a wurst is a sausage. I ordered the Wurst Salad expecting some kind of mixture of salad veges with a bratwurst or similar nicely grilled up and chopped through it. My expectations were way too high. I got a plate full of what appeared to be shredded cold luncheon sausage, cheese, carrot and onion. It truly was the Wurst Salad.

It tasted even wurs than it looked.

What followed was a mega travel day where we collected countries faster than you collect giant roadside food items driving through New Zealand. From the camp site in Germany, we travelled through France and Luxemborg before stopping for the night in Belgium - at the most expensive camp site of the whole holiday. The staff were very excited that we came from somewhere as exotic as New Zealand. After the check in process we were accompanied by a very cheerful employee who was riding his bicycle ahead of the van to show us the way to the site. Although it was a pretty large camp ground it was very obvious where we needed to go to get to our site. There was one main road through the whole camp ground that you drove along before the clearly numbered sites branched off the main road. We however got full assistance from the man on the bike - any time the main road curved even a little he turned around, gave us the massivest cheesy grin and pointed in the direction we needed to go to get to the camp site. Just in case following him as he cycled in front of the van wasn't obvious enough....

We stopped off in Ghent to wander around some churches and castles. I managed to continue the trend of only ordering waffles, beer and fries during my time in Belgium.

A beautiful damsel at the castle in Ghent.

Two out of three ain't bad.

After Ghent we spent a couple of nights near Ypres, where most of the significant NZ division action in WWI was. We went and toured around Messines ridge and looked down the hill the kiwis attacked up standing on top of the old German bunkers and trying to imagine the whole scene made up of shell-churned mud and wreathed in smoke. There were a few NZ cemeteries, other battle sites, and the hundred-year-old remnants of the massive craters from the "mines" they blew up before the attack after spending months tunnelling under the German lines and filling them with explosives.

Through some average planning we failed to realise that the 100th anniversary of the battle at Passchendaele was only days after we were leaving the Ypres area. Once we realised this it became clear why the camp site was full. We ventured out of town and had two nights freedom camping in the forest with just us, the occasional cyclist, and the ghosts. It was beautiful and quiet and we even spotted a couple of deer bounding through the forest. 

Our last night on the continent was spent at a camp site in Belgium near the border with France. It was set at the edge of the sand dunes, a kilometre or so from the ocean, and I realised that this was probably the most realistic option for me to swim the English Channel from one country to another.

A couple of hours before we had to leave for our ferry to England, I chucked on my best stubbies and lucky Hawaiian shirt, and jogged down to the coast to start my international ocean swimming career. By the time I got to the coast, the already murky weather had darkened considerably, and grey storm clouds were looming overhead. Then the wind started picking up as I left the shelter of the dunes. I started stalling for time, running up and down the beach to stay warm and try to work out exactly where the border was.

The beach was a very gentle slope, with at least a hundred windswept metres of ankle-scouring sandy beach before the white-capped brownish-blackish North Sea, which I suddenly remembered that I usually heard of in phrases like "bitterly cold North Sea."  I spotted a straightish fence running perpendicular to the water with a sign next to it with the relevant national flags, and figured that was as good a bet as any. I stashed my shirt, shivered, and ran back down to the waters edge, where the wickedly fast-flowing tidal current ensured it would be a one-way swim in the France → Belgium direction.

I resumed pacing back and forth to work out where I'd need to enter and exit the water. Deep Thoughts about the arbitrary nature of borders, the artificiality of the narratives we weave about our lives, and the ethereal nature of "integrity" wove through my mind. There were no witnesses here, I was pulling a completely stupid stunt that derived any vapid "meaning" it might have from the coin-toss whims of long-dead aristocratic slaughterers, bureaucrats, and cartographers. It made no difference in the cosmic scheme of things whether or not I did my swim or just ran back to a hot shower. The frothing sea and my own inexperience made it impossible to identify any rip tides, I'm an average swimmer at best and not built to survive in cold water for long, there was nobody watching to call for help if it was required, and I was still shivering and covered in gooseflesh from the biting wind even standing there dry...

Fuck it, the sort of person I admire would do it, and everything else was probably just the cold talking. I ran another dozen metres up-current to be safe, and charged in to join all the codfish and oil rigs and dead sailors. Wading and splashing and swearing, I got deep enough that I could fairly claim to be "swimming" rather than "crawling while wet." I set out, diving under to make sure the bottom was still nearby every couple of breaths, and swam/drifted a couple of hundred metres or so through the spume until I was sure I could fairly claim to have completed my stupid quest.

As I staggered back up the beach, patches of dry sand streaming painfully over my feet in the wind, the heavens opened up. By the time I'd grabbed a fistful of shirt and started running as best I could through the deep dry sand of the dunes, a proper heavy rain had started washing the salty taste out of my great scraggly beard. I think I let out a couple of yells of triumph: running half-naked through the alien landscape of the sand dunes being pelted with rain and slowly warming up from my victorious swim was an awesome feeling, well worth it.

Quixotic quests completed, we caught the ferry across to the UK and managed to return the van almost in one piece - apart from a bit of a door issue which occurred only minutes before the van was safely parked in its car park in London. A quick stop with Sarah and Andy for the night and then it was time to catch the plane to Chicago for our brief visit to the States.

Back to Croatia!

4/7 – 15/7

We drove to Igoumenitsa in Greece and caught the overnight ferry to Bari in Italy. We’d had a big chat with a retired British couple about our strategy for the ride, since we hadn’t paid for a cabin. There was an option for “camping aboard” on the open air deck for camper vans, that apparently wasn’t available to our little van. But we managed to borrow the “camping aboard” sign from the Brit’s previous trip, set up the bed and drew the curtains so we could quickly disappear, and snuck into the queue with the other campers when the (incredibly half-arsed) Italian traffic director guy was off having a nap.

Unfortunately, when it came to boarding we were nabbed, and directed down half a dozen ramps to the deepest bowels of the ship where we had to do a 5-point turn to leave the ramp. Undeterred, Mark rolled into the back unseen, while I decided I'd rather not sleep underwater, possibly in a sealed watertight compartment… Possibly a good decision as it turned out, the van had ended up right near the engines, so Mark suffered through a very hot, loud and somewhat stuffy night.

We stayed the next night at a camp site on the beach an hour south of Bari. Our limited experience with Italian camp sites has been pretty disappointing after France and Croatia: limited shade or privacy, pay showers, and not super clean. Hence driving so far from where we actually needed to be, this was the closest one with half decent reviews. Worth it in the end though, they had a beautiful little swimming beach and it was good enough place to rest after a pretty average night’s sleep on the ferry.

We had a good wander around the crooked ancient streets of Bari, and caught our second overnight ferry from Bari to Dubrovnik. Mark took one of our mattress cushions and a blanket aboard and tried to kip on the deck. There were a couple of chilly hours of half-sleep between the last drinkers turning in and the sunrise at 4:30ish, there’s a good reason they can charge so much for the cabins….

Dubrovnik is awesome. We wandered around the old city for hours, watching the world go by. We came across the Buza bar that had been recommended to us by Sarah and Andy. Not knowing it was the same place, we followed the sign for “cold drinks” down a winding alley and through a tunnel under the city walls, emerging into a cluster of sun umbrellas and seats perched on top of the cliff just outside the walls. Just down below the bar a narrow staircase meandered down the cliffs to the water with plenty of turn offs to overhanging ledges for jumping into the impossibly clear Adriatic Sea. Along with an Australian couple, we slowly and very bravely worked our way up to jumping from the rocks that were about 8 metres above the water. We didn’t quite get the bravery up for the 10 metre jump but there were a few that did. 

We should get a waterproof camera...

Our camp site just out of Dubrovnik is perfectly located at the top of a cliff, just a five minute walk down to the bottom gets you to a great little beach, perfect for many swims during the heat of the day.

And then by the time you get back to the top you're hot enough to head back down for another swim.

We spent a couple of nights in Split and explored Diocletian's Palace. Diocletian built the palace as his retirement home in the fourth century, after many successful years as the Roman Emperor. The Palace is amazing preserved because it's been continuously inhabited ever since. As time has passed, people have built in, around and on top of the palace. Like any good Roman Emperor Diocletian collected items from the Empire as decorations. As you wandered the streets there were sphinxes from Egypt that he had shipped to the palace. These are over 3500 years old - at the time they were brought to the palace they were older than the palace is now!

And most buildings were in a variety of styles from various additions over the centuries.

We stopped off at Zadar to hear the famous sea organ - which is powered by the action of the waves. The stronger the waves the louder the eerie noise which came out of the organ was. This also happened to be a really great sunset viewpoint. Ernest Hemingway proclaimed that this was where you see the best sunset in the world.

It was pretty nice.

[M- Unfortunately, having checked that there were some places to sleep with excellent reviews "in a little village half an hour away" I set the phone to navigate to a place matching that description, but chosen by Frances. She had found one place, rejected it because of all the reviews saying they had a bar going hard until the small hours most nights, and then decided the place across the road would be better? Apart from the noise, this was also the hottest night so far, and the most mosquito-filled. I laid awake mostly naked and sweating, killing scores and scores of mozzies as they swarmed in through our ventilation holes, choking on ineffective mosquito-incense fumes, until it was finally cool enough to put a sheet on and sleep around 4AM. We decided that summer this far south in the van was unwise, and started heading north and into the mountains. -M]

The Plitvice lakes came highly recommended by Ian and Leeyan and my parents - with a warning about the huge volume of people that would be there, also enjoying the beautiful national park. We discovered the accuracy of this warning when we arrived bright and early to buy our entrance tickets.

A portion of the queue to buy tickets.

Once we made our way into the park itself we quickly discovered why it was such a popular destination. Within a minute of walking through the entrance gates we were staring straight at a beautiful and enormous waterfall. The day continued in pretty much the same fashion, as we walked on these really great paths around beautiful lakes and waterfalls. In amongst the walking we also got a boat ride across the park.  Our most popular phrase for the day was "Wow - the water is so clear!" (It really puts NZ to shame)

It was basically this around every corner. And tons of fish in the astonishingly clear water.

Mark getting away from the crowds.

All the best spots had people queueing up for photos and clogging the the narrow boardwalk, so we didn't get many good photos, lots of good memories though.

Our day wandering around Plitvice Lakes has been a definite highlight of the whole trip and was a great way to end our time in Croatia - although we did manage to squeeze in one more meal before we left.

Traditional Croatian Meat Fest.

Alexander the Great!

Macedonia: 25/6 – 3/7

After a border crossing with border guards that were a bit unsettled by us not having original documents relating to the car we entered the land of Alexander the Great. (And it really is –  an hour into the country and we had already seen a highway and an airport named for him).

As we have been really enjoying them we did another free walking tour -  this time of the capital Skopje. The guide was very enthusiastic about his city but also pretty candid about the large spending by the authorities which upsets many locals because there are many living in significant hardship. 

Skopje is a random place. There has been a massive building programme to  draw the tourists in. The result is a hodge podge of sculptures, bridges and over the top fountains. There are fountains for Alexander; Alexander’s mother, Olympias; and Alexander’s father, Philip. Each with more over the top sequences of water flying in every direction. And there are sculptures everywhere around the city centre. On the two bridges across the river they line both sides of the bridge about 1 metre apart from each other. Our tour guide joked that Macedonia is running out of famous people to build sculptures of. Not to worry, if you put the sculptures on the roof of multi storey buildings then no-one gets close enough to work out who they are meant to be!

Philip II of Macedon plus mighty warrior

Olympias in various mothering poses plus young maiden

Super cool fountains on the Alexander the Great monument - which is too massive to fit the actual statue on top into this photo!

In addition to large fountains and hundreds of sculptures there are copies of various landmarks from around the world. There was a Wall Street bull, and a London Eye type attraction and CN tower clone were being built while we were there. There is also a triumphal arch. Our guide wondered what Macedonia has to be triumphant about – it has been conquered by various other civilisations pretty much continuously since Alexander. 

We also visited the Holy Saviour church which has the most amazing intricate wood carvings of bible stories inside. You can almost see the expressions on the people in them – it is seriously impressive carving. From there we walked around the corner to Mustafa Pasha's mosque. We were welcomed in by a number of people as we looked at the beautiful paintings on the roof, despite having been previously warned by our tour guide that some of the congregation was a bit prickly about infidel dogs tramping around their holy place.

After wandering the city with all of its various quirks, Mark and I went out to the Matka canyon which came highly recommended as a Skopje attraction. It was a public holiday so the canyon was packed full of people swimming and picnicking on the side of the river. Rather than walk up the road to the canyon walk we took an alternative path (one day I will learn…). It wasn’t really a path and we ended up being scratched by a number of prickly plants. Then eventually the bush bashing got too much and it was easier to just wade a bit alongside the river. Mark continued on the “path” and ended up in the restricted area of the hydro power station where security found him and had him climb over the fence into the canyon pathways. I ended up retracing my steps back down the river and crossing it further downstream before meeting up with Mark for the walk through the canyon. There were some pretty nice views as we wandered along and the sunset was great shining back off the rocks. 

"I'm beginning to think we might not be on the path any more"

Happy cave tunnel

From Skopje we drove to Lake Ohrid. We were lucky enough to find one of the best camp sites of the trip – Camp Rino. Rino the owner had boundless energy. As soon as you arrived he rushed over to you and was offering a welcome coffee and a Raki. You woke to free coffee each morning and just randomly throughout our stay he would wander over with a coffee or beer for us – on the house. The campsite itself was right on the lake front and was a great place to relax and recharge for a few days (and this for only 10 Euro a night!)

Markie with our very welcome welcome drinks at Camp Rino

We ventured into Ohrid itself one day for a bit of a wander around the old city, Roman ruins included. But after a couple of hours of wandering we decided it was far too hot and we were much better to be at our lake front camp site.

Hurry up and take the bloody photo so I can get back in the shade. (this wasn't the prettiest spot in town, but apparently it was so hot we only manage this single photo)

Reluctantly we left Camp Rino and headed for Galicica National park to stretch our legs. We walked up Mount Magaro for some beautiful views back over the lake. When we parked the van a swarm of bees circled the van and as we grabbed our backpacks some made their way into the van. We figured that would be a problem for later and walked briskly away. Unfortunately a contingent of the bees decided to follow us... for the whole four hour walk. We were trying to walk very quickly, or slowly, or calmly, or angrily... They just wouldn’t go anywhere. Every now and then Mark and I would be yelling out to each other – “Bee status?” “Woohoo! I’ve only got one – oh no wait, here they are. I can’t count them all” “oh yep there they are – you can’t see all of the ones following along behind you” “Bee status?” We also invented a number of songs, to the tune of the Book of Mormon sound track, politely requesting that the bees leave us alone. After such a lovely walk together we should have been unsurprised to see that the remainder of the swarm had stayed waiting at the van for us. Mark tried smoking them out a bit with the bug repellent candle and bundles of dry leaves but was concerned about the possibility of setting the van on fire. We tried encouraging them away from the van by pouring shandy on the ground but they weren’t interested. Finally we decided on driving down the hill very quickly with the boot and side door open so the bees inside the van would be blown away or unable to keep up with us. After swiftly driving a couple of kilometres down the hill we had success. We closed all the doors and jumped back in the van, just as the bees caught up to us again. 

 ♫ I am the bee queen! And the bee queen just, loves beeeeees ♫

After that relaxing walk it was time to cross the border to Albania as we made our way back towards Croatia. As we were leaving Macedonia the guard was a bit unhappy about our lack of car related documents. He let us out of the country with a warning that they wouldn’t be good enough for Albania. We said we would try anyway. But our good luck had finally run out. The border guard at Albania was steadfast - we didn’t have original documents to prove the ownership of the car, we weren’t getting in. After smiles were getting us nowhere we reversed out of the queue and went back to Macedonia. A different guard at the Macedonian border was not happy about the paperwork we had. He was shaking his head and not keen to let us in. The guard we had seen only minutes before was standing there looking at us like he had never seen us before – we are in a pretty nondescript vehicle. Eventually he took pity on us and must have told the other guard, actually these guys were here in Macedonia minutes ago, let them in. With a shake of the head we were in. We just had to get through customs – "Anything to declare?" "No – we have a couple of cans of beer but that’s it." "Do you have a joint?" "Uh no we don’t." "Ok but anything to declare? Any joints?" "Um still no." "Ok but what about a joint?" "Nope." "Ok bye bye." Welcome (back) to Macedonia!

Bitola was our final Macedonian stop. Conveniently it was en route to Greece which we decided was going to be our best route back to Croatia given our original documents issue may rear its head again if we tried to go through Bosnia.  Bitola was a nice enough small little town and a good place to end our time in Macedonia. It was in the midst of a summer festival so while out on a night time stroll we came across a covers band in a little amphitheatre in the park singing a whole lot of songs we recognised. From here we were on the road again towards Croatia. 

Full holiday mode in Bitola

Almost our own private concert