0 - hangovers on this trip so far. Has maturity sneaked up on us? Previous vodka-fuelled adventures in the Russian winter and drunken jungle treks in Central America seem a thing of the distant past as we revel in our discovery of mountain hikes, beach laziness and early nights. Unchartered territory.
1504 - steep steps climbed to reach the mountaintop fortress overlooking the Bay of Kotor and marvel at the breathtaking scenery provided by Europe's southernmost fiord.
3,4 - litres of perspiration leaked by yours truly over the local vegetation during the ascent of the aforementioned mountain, producing an Oscar-worthy performance of an exploding fire hydrant.
1.778, 45 and 23 - kilometres of heavenly Adriatic coastline allocated to Croatia, Slovenia and Bosnia & Herzegovina respectively in the re-distribution of land following the break-up of Yugoslavia. As my lungs fill with the diesel fumes from a 3rd generation German transport bus hand-me-down at Mostar bus station, memories from my previous holiday exploring the Croatian coast flood my mind and bring a large and knowing smile to my face. Soon enough, the bus inches its painful way around the hairpin bends of the high coastal road, precipitous cliffs dotted with gravity-defying conical pine trees fall down dramatically into crescent bays of crystalline waters. Further splashes of colour catch the eye here and there with a group of magnificent pink oleanders in bloom and pretty whitewashed houses sheltered by warm terracotta rooftiles. In all my travels, I have seen no coastline that can compare to this.
1,454,000 - a conservative estimate of the combined total number of inhabitants currently in their home countries of France, Italy and Russia. The rest are distributed evenly amongst the cities of Sarajevo, Mostar, Dubrovnik and Kotor. If ever there was a time to go and conquer France again, this is it.
17 - number of Australians dining three tables away from us in Dubrovnik, bravely attempting to redress the balance of the previous statistic. No fewer than twelve names overheard during their figurative and literal dissection of their seafood platters ended in the Antipodean nickname suffixes of choice. Thus our own dinner conversation was all but drowned out as Scotty, Julesy, Taylesy, Smithy, Matty, Jimbo, Simmo, Robbo and the rest of the gang performed lengthy crustacean autopsies with the occasional outburst of 'Shit guys, this is real good! I mean it ain't like the shit you get back home, but it's still pretty good shit!'.
93% - my current State Of Relaxation. Five days at the beach and some gentle sightseeing has given me a serenity and peace of mind I have seldom experienced in London. Every single nerve in my body has its own deckchair on a private beach and it is happy hour on Mojitos. The only blot on the spectacular landscapes we have visited was an unsightly, ungodly and quite frankly unwelcome Wednesday afternoon appearance from two horridly sunburnt, long-haired, middle-aged Greek men proving by their unfortunate beach attire that Speedos should be a form of cereal narcotics rather than indecently revelatory swimwear. Brrrr, not a pleasant image.
2 - total number of words learnt and used on this trip, conveniently common to all countries visited. A little slack by my usual linguistic standards perhaps, but for the moment, 'Hvala' and 'Pivo' more than fill my daily needs.
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3 comments:
Are you quite sure there wasn’t a ‘Baz’ a ‘Maz’ or even a ‘Saz’ at that table of Aussies? That is another one of our suffixes of choice. According to Laura, ‘amachatz’ is another one...
As for the speedos, I assume you have heard about Alton Towers theme park banning speedos on the ground of public decency? There was an article in the Times about it today, and since we are on the topic of my fellow country-men and their propensity for nicknames, as this dashing piece of men’s swimwear was invented in Bondi, the article listed the ‘printable’ euphemisms for speedos as: lollybags, sluggos, nutties and budgie smugglers...
Another article in the paper is one I am saving for you, and is more to do with your last post than this one. I don’t agree with it, of course (I think the guy is being a stick in the mud), but here is what he says about dancing:
"Dance, the last cultural resort of the bona fide imbecile. The party pastime of people who are too stupid to talk. The perverse repetitive jiggling, mostly when intoxicated, of proper, old-fashioned idiots, who consider it an entertainment to resign their decisions about bodily movement to the group, subsume their individual identities to the horde, and simply spasm to the throb, throb, throb of the pill-befuddled loser at the front with the very loud gramaphone."
Ouch. I think he may provoke a few comments with that one! And just so you know, I wouldn’t describe what you do as resigning yourself to the whims of a group. What you do is all your own...
Marc,
you were, no are, built to write and travel!!!
this is ace, my opinion might not hold much sway but it's true non the less!!!
come and sing with me when you get back, too much to catch up about!!!
matt x x
"The rest are distributed evenly amongst the cities of Sarajevo, Mostar, Dubrovnik and Kotor. "
You mean, Kotor like in "Knights of the old republic" ? Are there people who actually lives in this videogame ? Man, that rules ! :D
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