Rainy Day in Dubrovnik

Sarah and I were jolted awake by a strange loud noise....the anchor dropping. It was time to jump off the top deck into the sea to awaken the senses. Some were feeling better than others, some were worshipping the porcelain god. As we sailed towards Dubrovnik the skies darkened and drops of rain could be felt on the top deck. I still wanted to explore this UNESCO Heritage city and see it's historic walls but a few of our group cried off in order to nurse sore heads, tummies and bottoms!

So we headed by bus up to the old city. A tour guide met us to take us around. The city is listed as one of the ten best walled cities in the world and it has some really beautifully preserved buildings. Although the Yugoslav wars affected Dubrovnik as recently as the early '90's and results of damage from shelling can be seen in various places  - alot of restoration work has returned the place to splendour. I personally loved the little side streets and all the steps that looked like they lead to little hideaways. Lucie was snapping away and has over 300 photos of the place!

After some pizza and more exploring everyone decided they wanted to climb the city walls (by steps, not ropes and harnesses!) but after I slipped on the first few steps I decided I couldn't apply myself to the task and really I just wanted to go back to bed! I'm sorry I missed the views but it was lovely to get back to the boat and listen to the rain from the comfort of my bed.

We got up as the sun was setting and everyone was feeling recharged and ready for a night on the town. It was time for drinks on deck again to toast Lisa's actual birthday so we started on the cocktails and the banter was flying. No man or woman was safe tonight with us unleashed on the streets of Dubrovnik.

We had booked a recommended restaurant for dinner, Ragusa 2 (Ragusa is the Croatian word for Dubrovnik) and we ordered some local specialities and a bottle of Prosecco for birthday girl. Unfortunately the food wasn't that impressive - Lisa had to send hers back twice! But we had a few good giggles and got her some chocolate cake. After that it was time for Jagers, Tequilas and BUCKETS of drinks at Skybar. Sarah and I got all serious and emotional for a bit (constant drinking and late nights will do that to you!) but soon loosened up and started dancing in the laneways. I got chatting with Chloe, one of the lovely Kiwi girls from our boat, and we all headed off to Revel nightclub, in the city walls! Ever so cool location! Doug, our brilliant photographer captured us all on our way to Revel.

Chloe and I finished our buckets and hid them near the door of the club as we wanted to bring them back to the boat. Inside was cavernous and very cool with a light show and dominatrix styled dancers. It was Jager time at the bar again (When is it not?) and then we started drinking Vodka with Blueberry red bulls - not bad!!! Lots of dancing, posing and pulling funny faces at Doug as he snapped away. We managed to vandalise a poster and all pose with it. It was just good, clean fun really. After I was sweaty enough I decided to head back to the boat and Chloe said we should we should have a late night swim. In my sweatyness I thought this was a superb idea.

We took a bit of a detour home, not necessarily intentionally and we had to hide behind cars to relieve ourselves - not noticing that in fact there was a road above us where people had a great view of our backsides. Cue more giggling and trying to flag down taxi's to get us away from our viewers. I ended up doing the city wall tour by night in our quest to get to port!! By the time we got back to the boat I wasn't sure about getting in the freezing water and there was also the chance we'd be thrown off the boat and could be fined by Dubrovnik Port Police for swimming at port. A guy and a girl from one of our sister boats came over to chat and have a drink so I sat on the steps chatting to a lovely boy, Blair, as Chloe and Emma swam around the boat. Then there was mucking about at the front of the boat and balancing on the buoys. General mischief.

When Sarah got back I followed her to the room for late night catch-ups and a post-mortem on the night. We ended up chatting until 7am when I had to call time and go asleep!! Then one or the other of us would say one more thing but eventually drifted off at dawn....knowing we'd be awakened by Pitbull blasting in the corridors around 11am.

Stansted to Split (How NOT to travel.....)

I had planned well. I had managed to get a week's worth of clothing and shoes (YES, SHOES) into carry-on luggage. Under 12kg. That, I'm sure ladies will agree, is probably an unsurpassed feat. But my shining moment was about to be clouded over...how? By me, of course.

The alarm went off at 4am. I had gotten back to the hotel at 1.15am. We all do it, don't we? We tell ourselves - "It'll be fine, I'm going on holidays, I'll sleep on the plane,. Then, feeling god-awful, we drag ourselves into the shower and get ready. It was bloody freezing that morning, I was so glad to be leaving the U.K, although the forecast for Split wasn't great. Rain. Typical. I leave Ireland, experiencing a heatwave for the first time since 1995, to go on a cruise in Croatia - and RAIN is predicted. Of course I haven't a single thing packed for inclement weather. Why would I? That 11.5kgs didn't allow for it!

I got to Stansted and Katherine was already at the gate. I hadn't even met Katherine yet and she must've already thought I was a bit scatty, arriving about an hour before my flight. Whilst passing through security I was stopped, I had "too many items" in my plastic liquid bag. So it had to be repacked. A very kindly American girl offered to take the extras through for me but the snotty security said no. So I relinquished shower cream, hand sanitiser and toothpaste, hoping Sarah (my room mate to be) would have these. I then scurried to Boots, to pick up other items I needed, where the queues were literally winding down the aisles out onto the public area. Only at the cashier did I realise that I was sans boarding pass and I heard my name "Would Caitriona McBride please return to the security area?". Now what would Katherine think of me? She was texting saying that the flight was boarding and I was wondering if there was food near the gate? I managed to reach there for final call, clutching a brie and bacon wrap and feeling rather pleased with myself. Katherine looked rather worried and we barely had time for introductions before we had to take our separate seats (we didn't find out in time about each other in order to snag seats together - and changes on Easyjet aren't cheap!). Somewhere between Security and Boarding I had managed to take a Xanax so it was lights out for me before we even ascended.

At Split airport I felt much more refreshed and found Katherine, apologising for my earlier tardiness and general scattiness. I was proud to show off my carry-on but rather jealous of her suitcase, probably packed with goodies I couldn't bring on with me. We wandered around in the sunshine (for now!) looking for a bus and eventually were directed towards one which we were assured would get us to the port. We were straight on the texts, alerting Louise and Sarah that we'd arrived and would be seeing them soon. We settled in on the bus and pondered on the week to come, psyching ourselves up for the late nights and crazy drinking and praying our boat would be nice. We needn't have worried. Below is what awaited us at Split port....

Deep in the undergrowth and back to comfort

Thursday brought hangovers to the young visitors in the Cain cottage. I awoke to hear someone quite ill in the bathroom next door and I tried to turn over and go back to sleep. After dozing for awhile Gareth and I realized the whole house was awake around us and we had better rouse ourselves for the walk we had planned with the family. Gareth's parents take long hikes almost every day, usually about 9 -10km, rounding up with a hearty pub lunch. The lunch part I completely got, but the school of thought I come from normally involves a bit of a walk to see a nice view or to get somewhere, not to take a detour of a few kilometers. Still when in Wales....

Gareth's Dad was really gracious about the fact that we had all rolled in drunk, slept too late and delayed their plans and we took off through the fields and down through a forest. It was really very pretty and I always appreciate greenery now since I live in the desert. Jenny was stung by some nettles right through her jeans but she recovered pretty quickly. Gareth climbed to the top of an old ruin - I thought he might try and jump off - he just has a boundless sense of adventure and a lack of fear but thankfully his Mum's cries made him come down, through a dark tunnel infested with god knows what! We then made our way down to the beach and it was absolutely breath-taking. I love the sea anywhere, but it was so unspoiled, nature as intended with views of the Welsh and British coastline speckled in places with sunlight and clouds in other areas. I got a bit excited when I thought I could see Ireland - but not from where we were unfortunately. We played on the beach with the doggy and looked in the rock pools for baby crabs. Then we climbed up again to the forest and found a rough path along the coast. The sky threatened rain but I could still hear the buzz of bees on the hedges. There were a few close calls with buzzing in my hair - which induces a worse panic when I'm hungover - and I think Gareth was tiring of my silly phobia. He was also hungover and  I think most of our patience was stretched a little thin!

We came to a beautiful lighthouse where I thought we might have a short break for tea but apparently we weren't half way there yet! We managed to convince Pete that we needed some water but I think he thought we were just lightweights (being completely right!). I was relieved to see a proper path leading back up towards various villages but Coral and Pete thought the low road through another forest might have been more interesting. There were many nettles to manouevre and little streams to jump across which normally I'd find quite fun, but I was feeling a little weary and longed for the normal path. Jenny, Owen and myself were obviously feeling the same as we all hung back, plodding slowly uphill through the forest, we could hear Pete up ahead and it's shameful that people twice our age were not even fazed by the physical activity whilst we tired so easily. Gareth came back a few times for me, particularly after I got nettle stings (managing to get some thorns up my coat sleeves!) and eventually it seemed we were on a road, looking at some lovely cottages and country homes. Finally we were at the pub, but we had missed lunch! The chef was nice enough to provide us some plates of chips and we made do with crisps and chocolate. I still couldn't face an alcoholic beverage and was quite surprised that Gareth could, but he never ceases to surprise me. Pete was jovial and asking me if I'd enjoyed the walk; the truth was that I really enjoyed the first few km, it was my own fault I was hungover and just wanted to sit for the last km or 2. After a few beverages Pete and Jenny decided they would walk home with the dog. The rest of us thought the rain was finally going to come down so we would take a bus back to St. Donat's. The bus-driver was ever so sweet and didn't charge us even though we had about 3 stops; Take note Bus Eireann!

We arrived back to the house as the heavens opened; only for us to realize that we had no keys. Jenny and Pete weren't home so Gareth decided he would climb through our bedroom window to get in. How I wish I had it on camera! So we happily came in out of the rain whilst poor Pete and Jenny got caught in it. For food, a Smorgasbord was decided on - this family could not have been more after my own heart - there was Le Rustique, rocket salad, beetroot, corn beef pie and lots of fresh bread amongst many other tasty delights. My favorite food is tapas, mainly because I find it hard to choose so little bits of many good foods - in any culture absolutely delight me. We all curled up to watch "The Shawshank Redemption" as I had never seen it. The rain battered the windows and the wind howled down the country lanes as we snuggled, drank wine and watched a great film in lovely company. We all retired to bed early and another part of our journey had been completed - leaving me with a feeling of perfect contentment. Saying goodbye to Coral and Pete I felt there was no question I would be back in this wonderful hearth of happiness without any realisement of how wrong I could be.
Hold onto perfect moments and savour them for a few more seconds....

The Cliffs of Moher, Drive-by Burren and a rainy night in Galway.

Another morning, another struggle to leave whatever accommodation we were in and bleary-eyed move on to our next destination. Travelling is fun, but the hangovers aren't! However, in Ireland people honestly look at you as if you have four heads if you decline a drink - you're either pregnant or have liver failure. For breakfast, we decided to have the good old petrol station experience - this is something I really miss in Dubai - in Ireland, (and probably the UK) every petrol station has a deli of some sort with hot food and sandwiches. They will even make you up a sandwich with what you would like in it. So far, so good. Most importantly - it all looks desirable, and they all have PORK! Only other Middle Eastern expats understand how important pork is and why we consume massive quantities of it when visiting home, or anywhere for that matter. So, ham rolls scoffed, we set out the west road towards the Cliffs of Moher.

The Cliffs of Moher apparently auditioned for a place in the seven wonders of the world, but unfortunately didn't succeed. They are the highest sea-cliffs in Europe but aesthetically they really are something to behold that I can't describe. The water smashing off the rocks so far below can't even be heard from the heights of the cliffs, and the sheer power of nature is absolutely overwhelming as you look out at the Atlantic Ocean.

The sky was threatening when we arrived, but we, along with a few other busloads of tourists, decided to take our chances with a walk along the precipitous path. There are signs everywhere exclaiming "EXTREME DANGER" and others advertising The Samaritans (it doesn't bear thinking about) but I decided to ignore my fears and tackle these crags. The pathway is about two people wide at some points, and it's not smooth, and it looks like it falls away in parts. Gareth was gamboling along, frightening the bejesus out of me, until a French family pleaded with him to be careful. Gareth assured me that he's an accomplished rock climber but I tried to reason that he usually climbs UP rocks and that if he went off these, there'd be scant chance of getting a hold on anything before crashing into the rocks below. I think he saw the sheer terror on my face cos he slowed down after that and I made my way gingerly along. At times I got more adventurous and strode on, but after rounding 3 headlands I suddenly had enough. I simply felt like I couldn't go on, and I knelt down and almost wept in fear. I have a serious fear of heights that I really try to control but this was just too much. Gareth was brilliant and suggested we climb over the stone slabs into the neighboring field and make our way back as far as we could that way. The fields were full of cows, but I have no fear of cows so that seemed like a good plan. I encouraged him to go on and I would go back on my own but he was so sweet and insisted he'd come back with me. Once in the field, treading through cow-pat he began telling me stories of walkers being trampled by cows in the UK last year. Super. One life-threatening situation to another. At this point the cows were beginning to notice us; probably hearing Gareth speaking ill of them. One decided to come and investigate. He came right up behind us, and the people walking along the cliffs began taking photos. The cow was suddenly struck dumb - he looked after us, and back at the people - I could hear the thoughts forming "To go on? Or have my 15 minutes of fame?". He stuck with the camera, silly cow! We clambered over some stone walls into more cow pat and eventually made our way back, with only a couple of returns to the cliffs' edge. I'm glad I did it; I would thoroughly recommend it; even if you are a scaredy cat like me.

Back in the car we headed slightly north towards Galway. I didn't realize what a spectacular drive it would be. The Burren is noted as one of the largest karst landscapes in Europe. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Burren
What that means to you and me is some unique flora and fauna, and spectacular limestone hills. Gareth slept through most of it but I actually stopped the car a few times to breathe in the beauty of the area.

Onwards to Galway and we eventually found our "boutique hotel" surreptitiously hidden under another hotel name? The room was adequate with a lovely big, soft bed - but boutique hotel it was not. We, or rather I, had made a mistake booking ANYwhere in Galway during Race Week; we paid a hefty premium for a guesthouse - that didn't serve breakfast! We decided not to venture into Galway city in the midst of the madness, and had a lovely meal at Da Roberto's Pizzeria nearby. Once again we seemed to strike gold as it had won a couple of Bridgestone Awards and we had a nice bottle of wine with our meal. Gareth was feeling a little poorly though so we retired to bed early after a drink in Oslo's. We needed a little rest ahead of the weekend to come!