Lazy day

Lazy day today, sitting in a café this morning with Branka and Ivana, 

 gorgeous lunch with a friend (i made pesto!) and then a cycle to the beach. The cycle sounds leisurely, but is seemingly a dance with death (in fact going on past dances with death, the bike that I am on has a life of its own, and there have been falls in the past..). The thing is that I choose to go on the magistrala, the main road. I have to say that I am more cautious than I have been.

The main reason for the bike is so that I can get away from the huge tourist crowds to the semi tourist crowd. To walk is about 25 minutes (heading in the opposite direction from Nugal) in the mighty heat of the afternoon – it’s hot enough heading home up the hill but at least on the bike I get a bit of a breeze going.

I wrote a blog when I was living here in 2011, and one of the entries was about the deserted Hotel Jadran  in Tucepi (google Aliways and Ulice Blog Privatization Part 1 Hotel Jadran) which showed photos of the damage done to what looked like a sophisticated and elegant hotel (read the blog). My cousin told me that the place has been renovated so tonight we are going on the scooter to have a drink in the bar there.  Logistics to get there - a motorbike and a scooter - two helmets, three of us, one blind, all in dresses..I’ll report back with photos!

I’ve been sparing a thought today for the firemen still trying to put the fire out up on top of Biokovo – imagine how dry it must be up there with pine forest and no rain since April. Imagine also those in the tourist industry here who have worked since June with no days off at all – apartment cleaners, café workers. We had a meal in a café last night and one of the waiters had just had enough and not turned up. It must be exhausting, particularly when only those really lucky people have jobs after the tourists disappear. And they are already starting to disappear, ‘free’ signs have started to appear outside houses which to those in the know means there is a vacancy. Most people have created ‘apartments’ inside their houses – rooms with separate bathrooms to accommodate the burgeoning tourist population. The law requires you to register your accommodation, (which means pay taxes) but there are still the odd old man or lady on the side of the road down by the bus station secretly holding out little signs ‘sobe’ ‘apartman’. A visitor here joked that this town has the oldest prostitutes in the country (sorry, you need the visual – old ladies looking surreptitious on the side of the side of the road in the dusk..).

I have a rafting trip tomorrow at 8 – an excursion just like the old days with the mountain club. We have been told to meet at the semafor – I’d forgotten that name for the traffic lights..

Check out my sunset tonight..