i started writing a blog about our time in Croatia
in July, only to realise it was turning into a novel; and a boring one
at that, so I have heavily edited it…
Frank has sent me on another endurance mission
across Europe. To the Croatian island of Hvar via Frankfurt on chaotic
flights in extreme heat, where it is so hot that light is being bent
into new dimensions.
A bus takes us (Agent Frank joins me in Frankfurt)
to Split port where I exercise international diplomacy by telling a
rude woman to bog off and join the rest of the queue as she pushes in
front…
We cool off in a café and grab a coffee with a
German girl, Kristina. She’s an airline pilot and we instantly revert
to being 7 year old boys in awe of her amazing job. She buys us an
ice-cream.
We seem to have bought the wrong tickets (thanks
to the illegible signposting) and wander to our ferry, a large un-air
conditioned 1970’s boat.
They say the human body consists of 80% water, but
as I look at Frank I’m thinking it’s more like 95% as we perspire
through every seam of our clothing
IN Stari Grad we meet our kind host Gabe and his cohort, the athletic cyclist Janine. We hope to stop sweating sometime soon.
After settling into our apartment, we wander 2km into the idyllic twinkling town.
Hvar is beautiful.
On the harbour side in the evening light, sandal
clad, white-robed tanned celestial young women float around like a Bob
Guccione fantasy. Obviously the product of centuries of fine breeding
between high cheekboned women and prime Rosthchild type semen, the
likes of which oiks such as me have never seen.
The beautiful rich-but-not-so -famous pass by
similar, flaunting spaceship yachts like indifferent vendors in a
Marrakesh bazaar. We pass by our venue, Carpe Diem bar, and I get the
distinct impression that despite our promoters good intentions, reggae
remixes will not be the order of the day, and I’m glad I bought a bit
of ‘ouse and Balearic…
The night goes well, rubber necked punters await
Leonardo de Caprio’s non-arrival (he has booked the ‘VIP area’)…but it
is marred by the bouncers dragging a bloody faced punter through the
entire crowd (nice!). Frank plays a lot of house, I ditch the
downtempo, people are having a great time bouncing off the walls and
having pillow fights to White Stripes/Public Enemy when we get told to
calm it down (they only hear house music normally) and we go back to
house music for the evening. Leonardo doesn’t show. We hit the Jazz bar
for some late night drinking and party to Croatian disco.
Next morning we take a trip to Stipanska island
where Carpe Diem Island bar provides us with Mohitos, salads, swimming
and sunshine before another DJ gig CD bar. Again back to the Jazz bar
More swimming in the clear cool water follows, as
well as a delicious fish meal in the countryside outside Hvar; soft
marinated calamari, strong Croatian grappa, great wine. Frank manages
to leave the keys for the flat on another island, and later I am also
locked out and have to climb the balcony when Frank is not there…
Finally, we ride the boat taxi, watching
shooting stars across the expansive night sky as we approach the Beach
Party on Stipanska. The highlight is drinking beers and dancing to
JStar and Balkan remixes on the boat of Wuf (Wolf), the stocky
energetic firecracker of a man who runs the Hula Hula Beach Bar; I hope
we can return next year to his place…..