Today we went on another trip. Apparently in Dubrovnik, but it certainly didn’t feel like it. The Elaphite islands
A slightly more civilised start time this morning. Our taxi picked us up at 8:30am and whisked us through the side streets to the new harbour. There were several boats in dock, varying in size, some of them carrying around two hundred passengers. Our boat was far more civilised with a capacity of forty-five, and it was only half full.
As we pulled out of the harbour, past the two huge cruise ships in dock, our crew introduced themselves. They were friendly, welcoming and witty. Although this is yet another touristy trip, for the time we would be on the boat at least, it was going to be a relaxed and chilled day.
We chugged along the coast, marvelling at the mountains on the mainland and the islands just off the coast. We watched other boats making similar journeys and we watch sea birds going about their sea birdy business. The sun was shining and the thermometer was lounging about around the 24 Celsius mark, too lazy to go up or down.
Eventually we navigated our way into a bay on the island of Lopud. The first thing we saw was a church on a hill top. We are advised thar the church has recently been restored but the ancient monastery next to it has been bought and converted to an exclusive hotel. Apparently it costs £20k a night to stay there. Our guide wasn’t clear if that includes breakfast. David Beckham has spent the last two summers here.
There are some houses up on the hillside, and for around half a mile of the coast line there is a collection of bars, restaurants, art galleries and shops selling fridge magnets. Most of the shops are shut because the touristy bit of the year is over, and there are very few people around. Our boat parks next to a huge hotel at the far end of the bay, which has closed for the season.
This is clearly a very popular tourist ‘attraction’, but we have caught it perfectly. The temperature is just right, and there are no crowds. We stop at the first cafe we see for coffee and beer. Apparently, “the chef is too lazy to cook breakfasts today”. Our tables are right next to the harbour and the water is crystal clear. I have never seen water like it, other than out of a tap. There are hundreds of little black fish going about their fishy business. Dotted along the harbour are a handful of people dangling fishing lines in the water. No rods, just hooks on the end of lines. I look over and see our crew have lines in the water.
We would be quite happy sat here all day. After all the crowds of recent days, this is exactly what the doctor ordered. We have three hours to explore the island. There is apparently a magnificent beach thirty minutes walk away, but we decided to stick to the harbour.
Half way along there is an abandoned hotel, The Grand. It was the first building on the Dalmatian coast to be built using reinforced concrete, and is therefore the Croatian equivalent of a listed building, but it is long since abandoned and empty, with no-one wanting to take on the task of renovating a listed building.
Next to the Grand is a botanical garden. It features plants from all over the world, brought back by sailors from their globe trotting adventures. For many years it was a thing of beauty but the head gardener died in 1997 and it’s gone to the dogs a bit. It is still worth a visit but it is closer to the old Highgate Cemetery than Kew Gardens.
We spy a little church down an alleyway and a small artist’s gallery before being forced into a bar to drink Pina Coladas. Unlike our hotel, they haven’t run out of Pinas yet.
As we are at the opposite end of the harbour from our boat, we decide to go back to where we started and have one last beer.
When we get back to the boat it has pulled away from the harbour to allow someone else to park, so we have to scramble over the other boat to get to ours.
Once on our boat, wine is waiting for us and lunch is being served. We were given the option of meat, fish or vegetarian. We opt for veggie but the couple sat opposite us have fish. Huge portions of locally sourced fresh fish. The crew are on hand to debone the fish if requested and they do it like experienced fishmongers.
Once filleted the unwanted fish is thrown overboard and the ickle fishies are muscled out of the way by bigger fishies that had been lurking behind the bike shed having a crafty smoke waiting for someone to bully.
Next stop is the island of Sipan. At 9km long, it is the largest island in the archipelago. It’s in the Guinness Book of records for the most olive trees per square mile. They also grow oranges and various other citrus fruits.
They have forty-five churches. Which is a bit weird, given the island has a population of less than five-hundred. We land but only have fifty minutes to explore, so I head up to look at one of the churches and take some photos. There’s a little alley leading up to the church and a small shop selling local olive oil and local wine but no fridge magnets. Due to the time restrictions, I don’t wander far, I just take s few photos and head back to the bar where Megan is already waiting with beers.
Our next stop is the island of Kolocep. This is the southern most of the Elaphiti and has been habitated since back in the days of them Greek fellas with the beards. It was an early location for ship building and two of the sailors that were part of Christopher Columbus’ crew were born there. OK, it’s not as good an anecdote as the David Beckham thing, but to be perfectly honest, we were a but pissed by this point. So we just went to the pub.
After waiting for years to visit both Dubrovnik and Mostar, the huge crowds have taken the shine off finally achieving those ambitions. But today, even though the islands are also considered big draws for tourists, we have finally found peace and tranquility. I’ve probably had better days, but as we get off the boat in the new harbour, I’m struggling to think of one.
We head into the old town and finish off the evening dining alfresco in a restaurant right next to the old harbour. There’s a pianist playing schmooze, including What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong, the song Megan walked down the aisle to when we got married. It reminds me of one of the other contenders for my best days ever, the night I felt so romantic I popped the question in Nice. I feel so romantic I suggest we get divorced so I can propose again. Megan’s rolling eyes mean no words are required for her reply.
Eventually we hop on the number six bus back to the hotel for a nightcap and collapse in bed contented that, unlike U2, we have finally found what we were looking for.