Farewell Dubrovnik! We left in the early morning with rain in the air and not a single drop of coffee in my belly. Ken had arranged for a private driver to take us to Trogir where we would meet the boat for our nausea risking adventures to begin.

My pesky cough has persisted, so I started the day hacking and grumpy. (See “no coffee” above if any further clarification is required.) Our driver was lovely and gave us all sorts of useful info on the 3+ hour drive to Trogir. The forecast rain fell infrequently but when it did, amounts were copious. Rick snoozed while I gazed out the window alternating between coughing and worrying.

We stopped for breakfast in Mali Ston, about 1 hour into the drive. It is a charming little town known for its oyster fields, salt pans and their European “Great Wall” (not unlike the Great Wall of China, at least in principle, but much smaller.) There is a full marathon run on the wall every year – signs were visible around town – and looking up at that wall, the thought of it would be daunting!

We had brunch at a tiny little restaurant up one of the side streets and along the path to the start of the wall. Our meal was generous in variety and portions, as well as delicious. A couple from Ireland was seated at our table and we talked about our experiences in Ireland and their experiences in Croatia. They have been coming to the same little town in Croatia, and staying in the same little hotel, for >10 years. This was visible in the genuine affection shown by the locals, and their ability to communicate coherently in Croatian.

Ston, like Dubrovnik, has a prolific cat population and one tiny fellow that looked a bit like Tuna wanted to be friends. (I wish we could have brought him home with us).

I stopped at the local pharmacy to get something for this ridiculous cough that seems improved each morning, then worsens into a dry hacking cough as the day progresses. Sleeping has become difficult, though borrowing Rick’s puffer was a stroke of genius and has actually helped some. The pharmacist spoke perfect English (Croatians begin studying English at age 6), inquired about the details of my cough, and gave me a forbidding looking black liquid to take 3x daily. It smells really, really bad, though she assures me it will make a difference in short order. I cannot discern any of the ingredients easily, however, I strongly suspect it is closer to a naturopathic or herbal remedy than a pharmaceutical. Fine by me.

That problem addressed (fingers crossed), we headed off on the new highway towards the even newer bridge that was constructed solely to bypass the 8 or so km of Bosnia-Herzegovina that juts through Croatia to the sea. Until the recent opening of the bridge (only weeks ago) Croatians were forced to go through 2 borders in order to continue through Croatia. The borders were often slow and busy, making the 10 minute drive more like 30-40 minutes.

The bridge was built by the Chinese who brought in everything: materials, 2000 workers, food, bunks, etc. The bridge was completed ahead of schedule, though the actual opening had to wait. The Croatians were responsible for building the new highway, and they were a few weeks behind schedule. The bridge is lovely and the view over the water marvelous.

Our driver was a font of information. Part of the requirement for building the new highway was ensuring that animals were able to cross safely from one side to the other. Stone bridges were built at regular intervals to serve as (rather attractive) animal crossings. The wolves quickly discovered that by simply waiting patiently on one side of the bridge, their meal would eventually arrive on it’s own steam – a natural Uber Eats of sorts.

He also shared a recent experience with 6 tourists he transported from Split to Dubrovnik. They were all very excited to learn as much as they could about about Game of Thrones. They asked him many questions, including how long it took to build Dubrovnik for filming. Yep – they thought a walled stone city, built in the 7th century, and now a protected UNESCO heritage site, was actually a custom built, present-day, film set. Don’t people educate themselves before they hop on a plane and fly to a new country?

The rest of the drive was uneventful. We arrived in Trogir well ahead of our boarding time, and found our boat after a few passes up and down the promenade. The boats were lined up 4 abreast, ours being one of the outermost boats. That meant hurling my short legs across 3 sizable gaps while trying not to look down. Thank goodness they took responsibility for transporting our luggage!

As promised our cabin was above the water line and we found it easily. It is a smallish boat in the grand scheme of things. Our cabin is a teeny, tiny, weeny, itsy bitsy room, well organized, but very basic. If “boat cruise” has you imagining the Lido deck of the “Love Boat”, you would have been quite disappointed. Immediately upon entry I began to feel early signs of claustrophobia and wondered what the hell I was doing there. I most certainly could not have managed one of the cabins at the waterline, where the windows were welded shut, for reasons that became evident as soon as we left port.

We motored about 1-1/2 hours to Rogoznica, where we are now moored for the night. We have already had our introductory meeting, so know how to order and pay for drinks in the little bar – 2 Aperol spritzes please. Rick drank all of his, and half of mine.

The boat began to bob and sway almost as soon as we departed. I popped Gravol immediately, fearful that if seasickness got the better of me on day one, I was going to be in big trouble. I am so happy I did. The sea was choppy and rough and we rolled and bounced and dropped and dipped for the majority of the journey. A few people were sick, though the crew kept careful watch and intervened the moment anyone looked a bit too green.

Once docked at our destination, we left the boat and went for a short walk on dry land. Reluctant to rush back onboard, Rick and I sat on a bench watching the the water and the foot traffic until the bell rang for dinner. I experienced some very real reluctance to return to our floating hotel….

Dinner was delightful – octopus salad, tuna steaks, cooked to perfection, and panna cota for dessert. I confess that I struggled to eat any of the octopus, preferring to pick at the vegetables around it. Now that I know how intelligent they are, I just can’t bring myself to chow down on one.

Our bartender Zlatko was also our waiter, and later that night we saw him playing the role of dishwasher. There is a single chef in a tiny galley creating this amazing food, with music blaring while she works. We became accustomed to her varied musical choices as the first sound of our morning. The ship’s crew are also the housemaids, responsible for cleaning our rooms each day, but only after they have fulfilled their responsibilities as bike transporters. Bikes are lowered one by one – by hand – from the top deck to land. These people work HARD.

So now my day is done. We are tucked in our cabin in our single beds, wondering what will happen tomorrow. Will the thunderstorm come and kill of our ride for the day? Will this be my reprieve? Or do I just want to start and get over myself?

The definition of courage is the ability to do something that frightens us; it is not defined by the absence of fear, as there is no requirement for bravery without fear. The next week of this trip will test so many things I worry about: seasickness (any kind of motion sickness really) that might come from residing on a boat for 7 days, cycling distances with a pack of other humans on bikes (without the benefit of a battery or a tow to keep me within hailing distance of said pack), and being trapped inside a tiny space with barely enough room for the 2 of us to turn around at the same time.

I am sure adventures, growth, and some really freaking funny stories await. Good night!