the whole feminine, masculine, neuter language thing bites us in the butt again.
ah well, that little incident does nothing to dampen our appreciation of our current location, brac island, croatia ,just off the dalmatian coast. we arrived here a week ago and decided to extend our stay several more days and continue to lounge about like melons. there literally is nothing to do and that nothing seems to get better and better.
|"class one fish," the waiter said. later, when we wowed about it, he said "i told you."|
|the men confer with saint peter|
he took the map and conferred with the old men and our little conference was swelling to five, then ten men while i tried to follow along. they were speaking croatian, of course, but i'm a man, i understand maps and directions. next thing i know, saint peter, "the leader," calls the management company, has a conversation, snaps his phone closed and waves his arm, "follow me." we go hiking along another ten minutes, he points up the hill at a building and says "that is your apartment. my name is peter." thanks all around and we blissfully hiked the steps to one of the most fantastic views we've ever been privileged to enjoy. anywhere. in this particular case, mr. theroux was wrong.
|harbor, supetar, brac island, croatia|
brac, croatia. go if you can.
in a few days, we're contemplating dubrovnik. then maybe mostar, sarajevo and back to zagreb. we've learned not to state those things definitively but that's the current plan. we'll report back.