Holiday heaven

Croatia is a grand spot alright.

The pic above is a view from the old city walls, out to sea down towards Greece direction. It was a scorcher of a day, definite two showers weather and no mistake - maybe three.

T McD likes places like the old town Dubrovnik. Narrow cobbled streets, olde worlde charme that makes you add superfluous Es to the ende of wordes, copious restaurants and watering holes tucked away in the shade, sights, smells and unusual architecture. Nice folks too are the Croatians and unlike in other tourist traps, don't rape you with their beer charges. I was quaffing Lasko and Ozujsko and Karlovasco and other phonetically challenging beverages all week and wasn't putting a dent in three euros for some very fine pints indeed. Or Kuna as they spend over there, with the rule of thumb being to divide every price by seven which gives you a fair estimation of the euro equivalent.

Allow T McD to offer some advice at this stage. Dubrovnik is really only somewhere to spend about four days maximum. You'll comfortably and at your leisure see all there is to see in that time (the old town basically, as there's bugger all else to be honest) so unless you want to spend the rest of your time island-hopping (more of which anon), lying about toasting yourself in the sun, or get your kicks from swimming alot (I don't. That is to say, I can't), I'd think more in terms of a short stop over. Otherwise you'll be scratching your head for something to do after a few days.

Still, all things told, a jolly holiday overall and well pleased is MooDog and the other half, Miaow Cow (she'd be chuffed with this moniker. No, really). It's always nice to get away from grimy old Ireland, lock one's inner gym-Nazi in a locker and kick back and forget about it all. Weather-wise we had three belters of days at the start but on the day of the dreaded boat trip (more of which anon. Sorry for going on and on...) the sky had clouded over, a nippy little breeze got up and the temperature dropped considerably. It was much the same day after, pissed rain the day after that and finally, brightened up (but was still quite cool) on the last day. Felt a bit short-changed that mother nature chose my week's holiday to tinker with the previously uninterrupted sunshine and 30-degree temperatures, but such is life.

Food-wise, the standard is pretty even overall as well. But you'll quickly tire of the repetitive fare of risotto doused in squid ink (pass the bucket) as well as multifarious pizzas and pastas - they're all nice but I'd have loved an Indian meal or something.
Fact is, there's very little originality in the menus and when you've seen one you've seen them all. With my legendary appetite - surely by now positioned somewhere in the same stratosphere as Radge's fabled iron constitution - this was something of a let down also but nothing much to write home and moan about either which is why I'm venting it a la blog it in instead of bothering me Mammy with a letter about such trifles. Or the lack of trifles even. Ah whatever.

I'd recommend. It's an incredibly pretty place, the weather is usually purgatory-like if you prefer that flayed sinner look, it's reasonably priced, there's nice people and it's easy to get about as it's quite a compact little spot. And there's the history and culture too. Hard to believe the place was bombed as recently as 1992 but the pictures are there in the museums to prove it, although you'd never tell such has been the swiftness and diligence of the repairs.

By the way, my tan is hilarious. Brown arms, neck and face, complemented by a milky white torso.

This is because I never expose my breasts in public. Despite some very flattering financial offers.