A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall All Over Us

Andy and I have been traveling through Croatia for almost two weeks. We spent a week on the island of Vis decompressing from Eastern Europe and we loved every minute of it, almost to the point of not wanting to leave. But the world is a big place and we’ve only got a year to take as much of it as we can. So we reluctantly left, figuring that we weren’t going to find a place as peaceful and chill as that enchanted island.


(The cafe with the blue awning was our daily coffee shop and our apartment was right up that alley next to the cafe. Location, location, location)

From Vis, we hopped a two-hour ferry back to Split and then ran from one dock to another to catch a speedier hydrofoil from Split to the island of Korcula. You should have seen Andy with her rolly bag. She was cruising! This island was much different than Vis and equally as beautiful in completely different ways. Korcula was drastically larger and much more populated with tourists. We found a small fishing village called Lombarda that was 5 clicks from the island’s main town, Korcula Town. We haggled with more locals over rooms and finally wound up at a hotel that had Internet access, a pool and maid service. It was also the same price as the local apartments that we would have normally wound up renting, so it felt like a no-brainer.

We were planning on checking out the local sunbathing scene until the weather roared out of control. Andy and I are very used to thunderstorms, rain, lightning and wind. We were unprepared for what we were about to experience. Our first day was cloudy but still patches of sun burst through to give us a warm afternoon. At 2 a.m. I was immersed in a book and Andy was snoring cutely next to me. Then a flash lightened up our room as if there was a throng of paparrazi on our balcony, trying to get a glimpse of the elusive traveling duo. One second after the brightness, thunder crackled so loud that I thought we were doomed for sure. Andy woke up and almost screamed. “Huh? Wha? What the hell was that?” she mumbled. The storm was overhead and it was relentless. Rain streamed down and the lightning and thunder was simultaneously ringing. We heard screaming in the hallway and people were stirring. After about 30 minutes of this, Andy calmed down and surprisingly, was able to fall back asleep. I was up, trying hard to finish the book I was consumed with. At 4 a.m. as I flipped the last page of my book, the storm started again. I have never experienced a storm so loud and so close. Andy slept through it.

The next day was more of the same. Every two hours it was if the apocalypse was coming. The rain did not let up and we sat out by the poolside bar, drinking coffee, playing chess and watching the storm under our protective awning. This lasted for another two days with only patches of clear blue above us. We did score an amazing sunset one night due to the clearing sky and remaining clouds.


(That poncho only cost $1.50. And it only lasted one rain storm. Go figure)

From Lombarda we were headed to Dubrovnik, the southern-most city in Croatia, for two nights before we headed to Greece. We booked a three-hour bus trip from Korcula to Dubrovnik and I was apprehensive about the drive. I knew about the hairpin turns in the mountains and the slick roads from the constant rains. This trip was about taking risks and I had to put my life in someone else’s hands for a few hours. I had no other choice.

The beginning was uneventful as we meandered along the low coast road. Then we began to ascend the 2000 ft peak and our bus driver, who probably drove this road every day, was as relaxed as two sunbathers on a yearlong journey. He lit a cigarette and then took a cell phone call while going 50 mph. With a sure death to our right and passing motorists on our left, I was cursing him in my mind. “Pay attention, damn it” I uttered almost silently to no one in particular. He sparked another cigarette and then took another phone call. I was ready to just tell him to pull over so I could get out and walk despite still being two hours from our destination.


(caught red handed!)

We made it to the bathroom break in the middle of the trip and I let out the biggest sigh of relief ever. However, my anxiety was only about to get worse. During this “bathroom” break, our bus driver proceeded to walk into the small store where we had stopped and buy a beer. That’s right, the guy chugged a beer in front of all the passengers! I couldn’t believe it. I watched him as he cupped it in his lap, trying to obscure the can. I whipped out the digital camera and was able to snap a perfect shot of him guzzling the drink, preparing to use it as evidence against the bus driver. If we arrived at the bus station in Dubrovnik safely I was going to complain. This was all I could take.

After traveling through a few more cell phone calls, three more cigarettes, an amazing thunder and lightning spectacle and then a subsequent double rainbow that we literally drove directly under, we arrived safely in Dubrovnik. I was so thankful that we were alive that I decided not to complain. I didn’t have it me. I was drained after spending the last three hours clutching the back of the seat in front of me.


(Pretty city)
We found a room in Dubrovnik from a nice lady at the bus station. The rains however, continued to pour down during our stay in the town named the “Pearl of the Adriatic.” The next day we went into the beautifully majestic old town and walked around the stone alleyways. And just like The Truman Show, someone, somewhere, must have said, “Cue the rain, cue the lightning, cue the thunder.” It came out of nowhere and it was as intense as anything we had previoulsy encountered in the last week. Tourists scurried like rats under awnings to wait out the sheets of water. The streets turned into small rivers as people took off their shoes and walked around barefoot on the slick marble to save their shoes from the flowing mini rapids.

Despite the weather, Dubrovnik was amazing. The locals, only 14 years removed from a very bloody war for their independence with Yugoslavia, were as kind as could be expected. The city’s old town is filled with everything a tourist could need. There were coffee shops on every corner, Internet cafes, pizza restaurants, and expensive jewelry stores. I even found a barbershop where I got my head shaved for $9. The gruff old man, with unkempt gray hair and stubble that had grown wild for at least five days, did an admirable job on my noggin.


(This guy is a professional. Right?)

It is now 10:30 p.m. on September 19 and we are sitting on a massive ferry with its sights set on Bari, Italy. Our plan is to go to Corfu, Greece and we realized the cheapest way to get there is by braving two consecutive overnight ferries. We could have taken a 30-hour bus trip with four transfers through Albania, but after our most recent bus trip we decided against it. Tonight’s trip leaves in a half hour and arrives on the eastern coast of Italy at 7 a.m. We then get to wait around in Bari to catch our next ferry that night, also at 11 p.m., which arrives in Corfu at 6.am.

We bought the deck seats that entitled us to a seat in the smokey bar. Luckily the ferry is pretty much empty and we have spread out our sleeping bags on one of the many cushy sofas. “The Animal”, a Rob Schneider vehicle that garnered little attention when it was released, is playing on the big screen TV and I just can’t get myself to watch it, despite it being in English. I’m not that desperate for entertainment.