Motorways, Marble and Mouth-ache

Mouth-ache ? What? Don’t worry, all will become clear.

Departure day finally arrived. Rarely has a holiday been less eagerly anticipated, I suspect. However, we packed the car and set off for Salzburg. One thing was certain, it wasn’t ballast that would be lacking. Whyever do we imagine that so much stuff is necessary? We always have several times as much luggage as anyone else. Most participants of this flotilla holiday would arrive by charter flight with a 20kg baggage allowance. We probably had close to 100kg between us. We work on the principle that if there is room to spare in the car we have obviously forgotten something. As the cars get bigger, over the years, so do the mountains of kit.

If you’re looking for a rant about German motorways you clearly haven’t been reading my blog for long. Regular reader(s) will appreciate my restraint on this occasion. The roadworks even provided an amusing interlude. The satnav advised us to leave the Autobahn, and we ended up eating our lunch in a forest picnic area. We shared a table with a couple who clearly worked together. After eating quickly, they grinned sheepishly, bid us Guten Tag and scuttled off into the undergrowth together. Germans, eh? Always taking their clothes off at the drop of a pair of Lederhosen. (The Skipper thought I was imagining things, but he has led a sheltered life.)

It’s always a little frustrating to stay somewhere for just one night. For precisely that reason, I had booked a hotel right in the centre of Salzburg. Despite arriving later than anticipated, we had time for a stroll round the pretty bit and found a traditional-style restaurant where we had a very good dinner.

The next day, we didn’t really know how long it would take to get to Rovinj as the satnav data disk didn’t extend to Croatia, but we decided to make a detour to have a look at Ljubljana. That turned out to be an excellent idea. The old part of the town was undergoing major renovations, (reminding me of Bratislava many years earlier, where I used to stand at the tram stop, a little tipsy, watching workmen carefully laying cobbles well into the night) but is very charming. We ate at a rather tourist-trappy “traditional Slovenian” restaurant, but the food was fine.

Ljubljana; Caption competition

Thrown back on our (=my) traditional map-reading skills, we managed to locate Croatia without undue difficulty.  It seemed strange, though, to queue for border controls and have to CHANGE MONEY! Journey back in time! (Oh, sorry, some of you may not yet have joined the euro.)

Our hotel in Rovinj was in the Yugotours mould, but had been reasonably-well smartened up, and was right on the seafront, with a large pool. We had an aperitif at a waterfront bar, watching the sunset.

The next day, I had a slight twinge of toothache at breakfast, but thought no more of it. We set out to explore. The old town is just lovely. It’s one of those fortified coastal towns from the holiday ads. We wandered up and down the narrow streets, and bought a beautiful Dalmatian marble “desk set” which we consider to be far better suited to its new role accommodating soap and toothbrushes.  In the afternoon, we relaxed by the pool. I didn’t know it then, of course, but this was to be the last time I was to wear a swimming costume on holiday (as opposed to in the garden at home) for four years, and counting…

Rovinj

View from Rovinj

Later that night, the tooth started to get really troublesome, and the following morning it was clear Something Must Be Done. It was, of course, Saturday, and we had to be at Kremik to pick up the boat later that day. The hotel receptionist was not overly helpful, but directed us to a clinic in town. After wandering up and down stairs and opening unmarked doors, I eventually located a dentist and nurse sitting chatting over a coffee. After brief negotiations, we agreed to communicate in Italian, and she quickly diagnosed an abscess and prescribed ampicillin. While writing the prescription, the nurse asked, “E gravida?” Why ask me if it’s serious, I thought, then remembered it’s Italian for pregnant. At my age?! Anyway, armed with penicillin and painkillers, we set off for Kremik.

I may be doing it an injustice, but my experience is that inland Croatia is not very exciting. The motorway winds through damp and misty woods and farmland for hour after hour. There are, I’m told pretty lakes to visit, but we didn’t have time. I drove for hours to keep my mind off the Tooth, and eventually we dropped down to the coast and passed through a series of slightly scruffy holiday villages to Kremik. I had been in such pain all day that any nervousness about the boat had been banished, so it was with great bravado that I swanned up to the Sunsail office and announced our arrival. “Your boat is Fandan II”, the girl told us, “down this pontoon, on the right”.  “Great, thanks,” I grinned. I’m sure she was convinced.

The marina boasted a decent enough restaurant, and the Tooth was placated with a bottle of Macedonian cabernet sauvignon, which was really not bad. I threw myself onto the forepeak bunk and fell instantly into the best sleep I had had for weeks. Antibiotics + paracetamol + alcohol + exhaustion = zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz