MOTORHOME TRAVELLERS' DIARY FOR OCTOBER 2003

SLOVENIA AND CROATIA

Barry and Margaret Williamson

01 OCTOBER 2003 SL CAMP PARK, PREBOLD

B wrote to Pat Cue at Comfort, as promised, with information on cycling in Australia for Keith Brewster, her friend's son, enclosing our account of the round-the-world cycle ride and the map of the Nullarbor crossing. We'll also add copies of our notes on riding Perth-Brisbane when we find a photocopier. M did the dhobi and used the new vacuum cleaner - much quicker and more powerful, able to do the whole carpet and seats in one go instead of 3 recharges!

After lunch we set out to walk to the nearby village of Sempeter in search of its Roman necropolis, but turned back as the road was too dangerous - a typical Slovenian/Hungarian road - very narrow with no footpath or shoulder and cars and lorries pushing by, presumably avoiding the toll on the parallel motorway. Instead, we turned down to the Savinja River for a short walk along its banks, watching the grey herons.

For a bowl of cat-bix and a saucer of milk we have 2 new friends, lively kittens, one black & white, one tabby, each with a matching mother!

A short drive along the motorway, with small toll (a special rate for campers and caravans), 2 more short tunnels and an unfinished section, to meet the Ljubljana ring road. The GPS was useful in following the altitude rise and fall - 2,000 ft at Trojan - and in identifying the right direction, exit and route to the camping, about 4 miles north of the city on the south bank of the River Sava (a tributary of the Danube). The site is large and grassy with lots of autumnal trees and plenty of space. By 11 am we were settled near the only other British residents (Lancastrians Brenda & Jim, who own a caravan park on the Isle of Arran and are out in their pristine American Trek RV).

After lunch we took a bus into the city (too far to walk, no pleasure to cycle such a busy highway and Alf isn't insured for Slovenia). But it was simple - bus no 6 or 8 from the gate straight to the centre every 10 mins for 250 tolar each, cash. You just stuff it into a box in front of the driver, no tickets, no stamping, no inspectors, nothing - most people had a pass to flash, a few had a token.

Tourist Info at the railway station supplied a map and advice on where to photocopy and email, at the Student Services Centre in the tunnel below the rail lines! We copied the Australian cycling notes, no problem, but the internet place turned out to have a 15-minute limit for non-students, albeit free of charge. Just enough time to look at the incoming mail with 2 photos of the weekend with Mum, Sparkes and Greenstreets; from Ian Shires with more Yorkshire humour and info on GPS accessories; and from Tim Guy, the recumbent tricyclist we'd met in Oz, offering to send his cycling diary to Keith Brewster.

We then went in search of another free (?) internet place recommended by Student Services for longer use, but found it a busy, smoky, noisy cyber-cafe in the modern city center (sic). We walked across the famous Triple Bridge over the river (the Ljubljanica which joins the Sava) and into the old walled town, clustered below the castle hill. Here the main tourist office directed us to another cyber-cafe on the opposite river bank, expensive but quiet and well-equipped. We settled down with a coffee, Barry wrote a long reply to Ian, then tried to send - it failed to go and disappeared into cyber-space without trace! The person in charge was rude, unhelpful and insisted we paid in full for our wasted time, losing our further custom.

We set off to look at the old town, passed the large DZS Bookshop offering email for a fair price and had a third attempt at dealing with our correspondence! Another reply to Ian, and also notes of thanks to Tim, were finally sent though it was very slow and difficult and crashed several times - problems with the server, apparently. Leaving exploration of the old town for tomorrow we returned to the main street, Slovenski (renamed from Titova), for the bus home.

41 miles. £12.57 inc 10-amp elec.

Another bus ride into the nation's capital (pop 280,000 in a country the size of Wales). We posted Pat Cue's letter with enclosures and a PS about Tim Guy, and found we could get bus tokens (in the form of small green tiddlywinks) at the post office for 170 tolar, a small saving over paying the driver the flat fare (53p versus 78p).

Back across Plecnik's Triple Bridge to the bookshop to use the email (another exchange of letters with Ian Shires and an internet bank transfer to pay him for a GPS aerial, to be posted when we settle somewhere for long enough). Then we walked round the well preserved/restored Baroque quarter, enhanced by the Art Nouveau Dragon Bridge and mansions, and the buildings and bridges of the renowned architect Joze Plecnik, who transformed his native city in the first half of the 20thC. His colonnaded market place, along the river behind the cathedral, was very impressive, bright with flowers and produce as well as craft stalls and live music and dancing in the square. St Nicholas RC Cathedral was freely open: a very ornate Baroque interior with Italianate frescoes and gilded organ (built 1701 on site of earlier churches). Very impressive if you like that sort of thing. We specially liked the heavy bronze side and main entrance doors, done by 2 modern Slovene sculptors in honour of the Pope's visit in 1996.

Next a short stiff climb up Castle Hill for the view and a history lesson. The hill had been fortified in Celtic times, was a Roman military post for the settlement named Ermona (until Attila the Hun invaded in 452 AD), then a medieval castle, first mentioned in 1144, and rebuilt after the earthquake of 1511 as the seat of the rulers of the province. By the 19thC it was in poor condition and used as a prison and garrison. Restoration began in the 1980's and is still ongoing, with lots of concrete and underpinning. We poked round the foundations and courtyard, weren't impressed at all by the graduating students' art exhibition and didn't pay to climb the tower and see the Virtual Museum - the real thing was interesting enough. We walked back to the old town below, across the Dragon Bridge and on to the railway station. The DZS bookshop had no printer and B wanted to print the GPS manual (held on CD), so it was almost completely done at Student Services (100 pages, not free of charge!) Finally, we ate at McDonald's before catching a bus to the campsite.

In the evening we watched the first half of a story on video called 'Hidden Treasure' with John Thaw. Quite interesting, except that he always looked and behaved like Inspector Morse. Or perhaps Inspector Morse always looked like John Thaw.

In which we visit 2 Big Bangs on our way to Bled!

On leaving we bade Brenda & Jim farewell and inspected their RV, which was well laid out apart from the bed, descending from the ceiling over the sitting and dining area. It befits a golf-playing member of the American Motorhome Club, wintering regularly in Spain. They are off to tour New Zealand in a hired motorhome for 8 weeks in November so we had plenty to talk about. As we prepared to drive away, thundery showers started and lasted all day.

Before getting onto the motorway for Kranj/Bled, we drove round the ring road aided by the GPS to the BTC shopping mall, where we believed the capital's branch of 'Big Bang' would sell spare bags and filters for our new vacuum cleaner. They had none but rang round and advised us to go to Murska Sobota (where we'd bought it and were told to come here!) or Kranj. We did buy a 1-litre Tefal kettle, usefully less powerful than the big leaking one which often trips campsite hook-ups. Lunch in the car park, then back round the ring road and onto the toll motorway E61, north-west towards Austria (via the Karawankentunnel).

Turning off at Kranj after about 25 miles we soon found the Mercator shopping centre and bought 2 boxes of bags and filters at their Big Bang store - success! Still raining as we continued to the turning for Bled, a busy village at the east end of the 2 km-long Lake Bled. Tourists with umbrellas shopped, took horse-carriages round the emerald-green glacial lake, were rowed in gondolas to the tiny church on Slovenia's only island, sat in the expensive restaurant outside the fairytale cliff-top castle or arrived in luxury Austrian coaches at Vila Bled, its grandest hotel, once the summer residence of Tito, with its own tennis courts and boathouse (some animals are more equal...) We continued to the campsite at the western end of the lake, sure it would be far too crowded or expensive to stay, and were pleasantly surprised.

Perhaps because it closes soon (15 Oct), it wasn't overpriced and had plenty of space, with excellent facilities including centrally heated showers. We settled in on the hardstanding (grass pitches were becoming soft), made dinner and watched the rest of last night's video. It rained most of the night, along with thunder and lightning echoing round the mountains. The peaks will have plenty of fresh snow.

53 miles. £10.43 inc 16-amp elec and C C discount.

Rain poured in showers and thunder rumbled through the night and day, reminding us we're on the eastern edge of the Julian Alps, in the Triglav National Park (Triglav is Slovenia's highest mountain at 2,864 m or 9,451 ft), with the Karawanken range forming the Austrian border to our north. The camp is in a little valley by the lake shore, with magnificent tall trees towering above us. It's wet but at least it remains warm. A day for porage and sheltering indoors. We printed the September diary, updated October and started filling in the gap left in August, when the WP stopped in a heat wave on the Bulgarian/Romanian border - those were very different days. But we are enjoying the time to read - B just started on 'Captain Corelli' and M on 'Snow Falling on Cedars' and B is busy with maps and GPS plotting future routes.

In which we cycle 5 miles into Bled and later 26 miles up the Bohinj Valley to Bistrica

An easy ride into Bled along the north shore of the lake on a quiet lane, the main road following the southern shore. Bled is a modern artificial summer/winter resort, like a miniature Monte Carlo with hotels and a casino, but at least the development is limited to the eastern end of the lake and no motor boats are allowed. We shopped at the only supermarket and had an hour's free internet at the friendly library. B exchanged emails with Ian Shires and sent one to Andrew Hague, then we searched for info on Montenegro, Albania and Macedonia, with varying success. There was no information on the availability of insurance for Rosie and varying accounts of safety - from 'Fine' to 'Don't Go'. At least we confirmed that no visas are needed, just a 5 US dollar entry tax each into Albania. Also phoned Endsleigh Insurance to extend our health/travel policy till 3 November.

Back home for lunch, then a cycle ride in a different direction, south-west to Bohinjske Bistrica. A gentle climb up the Bohinj Valley, following the river up towards another, larger glacial lake. We rode through meadows and small dairy-farming villages, sheltering under an example of the unique local hayricks to don our waterproofs half-way. At Bohinjske Bistrica, the only town up the valley and about 4 miles before the lake, we stopped for hot drinks then turned back to avoid dusk falling, with the roads already wet and visibility poor. We did enjoy the ride back despite the rain, downhill with a back wind, making it home by 6 pm with half an hour's daylight in hand. Not the climb we'd expected, but beautiful alpine pastureland in a broad valley between peaks which are gathering a little more snow each day.

A beautiful morning's cycling and walking to see the Vintgar Gorge, a ravine 4 miles north of Bled. An uphill ride, past Bled Castle and through the village of Spodnje Gorje to Vintgar (from its old name of Weingarten), at the western end of the mile-long gorge. We locked the bikes outside the ticket office, paid our money (£1.80 each) and strode out, to be amazed. The Radovna River cuts through steep sides flanked with beech forest. The tourist trail, opened in 1893, involves sections of boardwalk clinging to the rock walls, 4 wooden bridges crossing the roaring rapids below and narrow paths along the bank when the fettered river slows its pace over wider sections. At the far end the torrent escapes down the Sum Waterfall, Slovenia's highest at 43 ft.

Impressed, we sat outside the little buffet drinking coffee right above the falls. An exciting 30-min walk, to be repeated, climbing gently back to rejoin the bicycles. We cycled home to Bled through the picturesque little farming villages of Podhom and Zasip, reaching the campsite for lunch just as it began to rain again - another dusting of snow for the peaks.

After lunch we updated the diary; reviewed and deleted some digital camera shots, as B had filled the smart card at the waterfall; and prepared to move on. Talked briefly to a couple in a camper from Stroud, on their way home after a 6-month tour of Europe with their 2 young boys. They'd come up through Croatia and recommended it as friendlier, cheaper and less organised than Slovenia - sounds like Greece. Dominic is an artist and gave us his website address, Mundusloci.

A bright dry day, the sky and air clear as only mountain air can be, with that chill promise of winter coming and Alpine passes closing. Warm and comfortable in Rosie, we retraced our GPS track to Kranj, detouring to shop at the Spar, then on the toll motorway to Ljubljana. Round the ring road and another toll motorway south-west, turning off at Postojna, in Slovenia's famous Karst region of limestone caves. The Postojna cave system was well signposted from the motorway and highly organised. We had lunch in the enormous, mainly empty car park, then took the 2 pm tour. A long open train whizzed us through 2 km of well-lit tunnels, the roof just skimming our heads, and into caverns with more stalactites, stalagmites and stalagmates (joined columns) than we'd seen in our lives. Guided groups (sorted by language - German, Italian, Slovenian or English - the English-speaking group was mainly Japanese) were walked through 1700 m (just over a mile) of fantastic 4-million-year-old formations, finishing by a pool with 4 bewildered specimens of Proteus Anguinus to look at while waiting for the train back to the daylight. (These amphibians are a type of salamander, pale pink in colour and totally blind, which live up to 70 years in this chilly environment - a constant 48 degrees F). We emerged into a warmer, more colourful world after 1½ hours underground.

The campsite, about 3 miles north of Postojna, is high up (2,000 ft) among the woods by the smaller Pivka cave, which can be visited in the summer only. The whole limestone area (the Karst Region) is riddled with holes!

73 miles. £10.25 inc elec & C C discount.

Another fine day for travelling. We called at Postojna's Spar supermarket, then drove due south on a narrow country road for about 40 miles to the Croatian border at Rupa. We stopped en route at the town of Ilirska Bistrica to make coffee, ring Mum (who was out) and spend our remaining Slovenian currency on diesel (precision filling to get exactly 15,941 Tolars' worth - about £50, at 51p a litre).

The border crossing was quick and easy, just a cursory passport check. Barry answered 2 test questions from the Croatian policeman: 'Are you a famous filmstar?'(!) - B replied 'Yes, Arnold Schwartzenegger' - and 'Why is your steering wheel on the left?' and we were allowed in! Sitting in the next scenic layby for lunch, our first impressions of Croatian drivers were that they take more risks and are less law-abiding - a touch of Italian/Greek compared with the orderly Austro-Slovenes, requiring skilled defensive tactics. At least daytime dipped headlights are not compulsory here, as they were in Slovenia and Hungary.

After 15 miles we got our first glimpse of the blue of the Adriatic as we dropped down to Rijeka, Croatia's largest port. A dual carriageway carried us past the town, through a series of tunnels and over viaducts, looking down on blocks of flats and docks, cranes and shipping. We climbed high above the coast, eventually joining a newly built link road to reach the E65 coastal route at Bakar. Our road ran along a narrow shelf between steep mountain sides on our left and the Dalmatian coast on our right, with a view across to the island of Krk. We followed the road SE for about 20 miles, past the resort of Crikvenica to a smaller one at Selce. Squeezing through the narrow main street we found the large Autocamp open, steeply terraced above the water's edge. Just a handful of other motorhomes here (Belgian, Danish and German) and we settled in under Mediterranean trees (figs, olives, tamarisk) - we've not seen the sea since Turkey and it feels good. It's much warmer than up in the Alps at Bled (where we even put the electric blanket on) and we got our shorts out again before the 10-minute walk round the sea-front into the village.

It didn't take long to find the bank (£1 = 10.5 Kuna, a currency that replaced the Yugoslav Dinar here in 1994), then stroll past the mixture of pleasure craft and fishermen mending their nets. An end-of-season feel to the place (the camping closes on 31 Oct).

Croatian TV was a big improvement, showing plenty of American programmes with original sound and subtitles: a film 'Zelda' about Scott Fitzgerald followed by a recent episode of 'ER'. The Croatian language looks very like Slovenian, from the few words we recognise.

74 miles. £9.90 inc 6-amp elec.

Daytime temperature back in the 70's, dry and sunny. We enjoyed the sea view, fed the campsite cats and talked to our neighbours from Ulm, also on their way to Dubrovnik in a 'Flair'.

M baked apple cake and chocolate cookies and worked on the diary, while B began the annual overhaul of the bicycles. He stripped, cleaned and regreased both headsets and M's front wheel bearing, pleased to work outdoors in neither rain nor stifling heat.

After dinner there was more American TV: a series about the CIA, then the film 'Godfather 2' till after midnight. Very atmospheric with everyone's favourite Italian actors (Robert de Niro, Al Pacino, and thankfully not Marlon Brando) but too long and too violent.

An easy cycle ride along the seafront and a quiet road to the nearby larger resort of Crikvenica. We bought bread and veg at the outdoor market and explored the town, our first experience of Croatia. For internet/email we were advised to try the video-hire shop (out of order), the Happy Cafe (closed) or the library (which we couldn't find)! Nor was there a ferry across to Krk, just glass-bottomed boat trips with a guided tour, wine-tasting and a lunch of fried sardines. The toll bridge from the highway at the northern end of the island had replaced the regular car ferry.

Back for lunch then time for cleaning, reading and diary-writing.

Weather remains warm though overcast, windless and humid. B worked on the rear and bathroom windows which had leaked in the Slovenian rain, resealing them with fresh mastic. In the long hot summer the sealant had dried out and cracked - we were only surprised that all the other windows were still good. The campsite cleaner, a very friendly woman speaking basic German, did a load of dhobi for us for 40 kuna (talked down from the 'high season' rate of 60). We chatted with a newly arrived Cornish couple, on holiday with their 10-year-old foster-son, a Downs lad called Sam. The man is a pilchard fisherman (as are his 2 grown sons) and we learnt a little of the problems of over-fishing and EU quotas in the industry.

After lunch a short but strenuous cycle ride to the next port south of Selce. Rather than 3½ miles of busy highway, we reached Novi Vinodolski by climbing inland on the road towards Bribir then dropping to the coast again. Coffee by the harbour, looking at the track of our climb on the GPS, the first time we'd used it for hill-climbing. Then back by the same route, as dark clouds gathered and rain threatened but didn't fall.

We updated our list of Greek campsites open in winter, to print a copy for the Cornish couple who wanted a change from Spain, and did a bit more work on the August diary.

More talk with the Cornish fisherman in his AutoRoller, learning about the complexities of fostering a child like Sam (who's been with them since he was only 2). B completed his annual Inland Revenue return, to send with a note to Mum for her to post, and wrote to Taylors Storage. M sorted out the food cupboards and made a chocolate cake. A text from Karsten and Agata in Frankfurt asked plaintively for an idea of when we might arrive. If only we knew!

After lunch we cycled along the sea to Crikvenica, posted our letters and finally found the library, the only internet place (1 machine at 15 kunas an hour, printing free), in an anonymous building between shops and restaurants on the waterfront. We had time to check our bank balances and surf a little for bicycle parts (we need new rear cassettes, rear mechs, chains and possibly chainwheels, among other things) before the library closed at 4 pm. We also heard from Ian Shires, who has posted the GPS aerial to Zadar on 9 October and recommends a campsite near there (he gave us its latitude and longitude but had forgotten its name). We transferred the balance (£5·50) owed to his bank now we know the postage cost. Emails too from Pat Cue at Comfort and from her friend's son, Keith Brewster, both thanking us for the Cycling in Oz information, and from William Johnson in Perth, whose cycling there has been curtailed by his small grand-daughter's illness (leukaemia).

Back to the campsite to prepare to move and update accounts and diary.

Highway E65 is narrow and twisting, running along the narrow ledge between the Croatian Riviera with its offshore islands (past Krk, Rab and Pag today) and the steep limestone hills. A small miracle of engineering, which would need a bigger miracle to widen it. We passed a succession of tiny fishing harbours below us to the right and nothing to our left, the land more barren than the Mani, even devoid of goats. There were frequent parking places, enabling coffee and lunch breaks with sea view. Just before the small town of Senj we crossed the 45th parallel, giving us a good sense of latitude (we regularly cross it in northern Italy). We also got a frequent sense of altitude, the road climbing over headlands (max 1,170 ft), all recorded in startling profile by the GPS.

About 10 miles before the road turns sharply for Zadar we came to Starigrad-Paklenica, on the coast below Croatia's 2nd largest National Park. All the other sites along our way today were either closed or too small, or both, except this one by the National Park's HQ. By 2.30 pm we were settled right by the shore on a wooded promontory with a handful of Germanic neighbours. We had an easy walk back along the sea into the town, about 1½ miles NW. The water is very clear, studded with sea urchins on the bottom, its 'beach' all pebbles and shingle, but popular in the summer judging by the number of Zimmer and Apartment signs. Now the season is clearly over (this camp closes 1 November).

Back to Rosie for tea and TV. Also wrote to Turners, after looking at yesterday's accounts.

88 miles. £9.70 inc elec.

Before lunch we took another walk along the shore from Paklenica, SE to the edge of the next village, Seline, past a ruined medieval watchtower.

Then we drove the few miles to the end of the long inlet and turned SE for Zadar, including about 10 miles on a brand new motorway (60p toll) which ends near Zadar airport but might reach Split one day.

Past the old walled city of Zadar to Borik Beach just to the NW, where the large and very convenient Camping Borik was firmly closed, though we noted plenty of parking space by the marina. We continued up the coast for 10 miles to the even larger Camping Zaton (also closed) and soon came to the little town of Nin, where the Tourist Information was open. They directed us to Autocamp Nin, just past the town on the Vir road, an unpromising sloping field of stored German and Dutch caravans. An extremely friendly woman appeared from the extended family house to welcome us (the man at TI had rung her) offering all we needed for a night (bring your own hot water). We just managed to reach her hook-up with both our long leads. M went up to the house to pay and ended up drinking wine (from their vineyard) in the kitchen with the woman (eager to practise her school English) and her aged father-in-law. She was keen to be paid in euros (10), able to change a 50 euro note but not a 100 kuna one (odd, as it's freely convertible now). We talked of the recent war, 1991-92 (2 yrs after they'd taken the campsite over). Zadar was shelled, no more tourists, factories closed, power cuts - it had been hard and they were just starting to recover. Later, the old man came over to give us a bottle of the wine as a gift.

A very cold dry wind was blowing from the north - the Bura - important for the production of the local pork speciality called Sokol, salted, smoked and air-cured in the wind. We wrapped up against it and walked over the fields back into Nin, which is actually on a tiny island where a sea inlet ends in a lagoon. Over a footbridge, through a 15thC arch in the crumbling medieval walls, we passed 4 little churches spanning the 9th-18th centuries and came to the jumbled foundations of a Temple to Diana from the Roman settlement of Aenona. Nin became the residence of early Croat kings. but eventually fell into decay, ravaged by both Venetians and malaria. We returned past the small fishing harbour of flat-bottomed boats, backed by a few incongruous holiday apartments. We had an excellent view across the clear water to the grey barren slopes of the Velebit range along the Dalmatian coast we had followed from Rijeka.

44 miles. £7.14 inc elec.

Drove back from Nin to park at the Borik marina, from where we cycled along the water's edge and over a footbridge into the lovely walled city and port of Zadar. The narrow traffic-free streets are cobbled with white stone, polished like marble over long years. The 4 centuries of Venetian rule are evident in many of the medieval buildings. The main square has the remains of the Roman forum, the foundations of walls neatly cemented with children's electric cars for hire to buzz round them! Opposite is a fine new archaeological museum. St Donatus, a 9thC Byzantine domed church, stands in the forum, built of Roman stone right over the altars of Juno and Jupiter. The single Corinthian column outside was used as a medieval pillory.

The city was heavily bombed by the Allies in WW2 and again in the recent civil war, but we saw little sign of damage apart from continuing restoration of churches. In fact the centre looked prosperous with busy cafes and smart shops

We found the post office to enquire about the package sent from Budapest by Ian Shires and were vaguely directed to the main sorting office beyond the old city. Indeed, it was there. Then we cycled along the fine coastal promenade, collected a ferry timetable from the Jadrolinija office, bought fruit at the market (and a slice of Burek, the local flaky cheese pie) and returned to Borik marina to complete our lunch.

An easy drive south down the E65 for another 20 miles, following the flatter coastline. Our Dutch camping guide told of a site which was Open All Year, and it's true! Rio is a small campsite in an olive grove by the beach, behind the home and surgery of its owner, a dentist, where we joined 2 Austro-German vans.

34 miles. £10.17 inc elec.

The cold wind still blows, though sea and sky are blue. We sent texts to Barney, asking about his trip to India in December, and to Karsten in reply to theirs. B worked on the final version of 'Camping Karpouzi' and M in the kitchen.

After lunch we cycled along the coast to the next little port, Biograd, complete with ferry to Tkon on the island of Pasman, 25 mins across the water. We found the only internet place, just 10 mins before it closed until Monday, and 4 photographers, all closed (obviously getting into the Mediterranean siesta zone). We rode back, past the campsite and on into Filipjakov, an even smaller village with a tiny fishing harbour, post office and little else. Very quiet. The Costas of Spain must once have been like this.

Back at Camping Rio, B began fitting the new GPS aerial to the roof (minus instructions) while M did some diary-writing. The TV here is now showing the recent remake of the Forsyte Saga serial with subtitles.

M did some dhobi and baking while B finished installing the GPS aerial, permanently wiring it into the 12 volt system - it immediately gave much improved reception, up to 8 full-strength satellites.

We also finished and printed 'Camping Karpouzi' and began an article about our recent travels called 'Among the Vulgars and Romanians'. A text reply from Barney, in Denmark, promised an email forthwith.

After a few more odd jobs - cleaning, more dhobi and writing - we sorted and selected photos for 'Camping Karpouzi'.

After lunch the cold wind dropped and we walked the narrow path above the shore to Biograd. Nature-spotting, the path was lined with pale mauve autumn croci, opening to the October sun, and we saw hooded crows scavenging along with the seagulls. Near the harbour we noticed the pockmarked walls and street, where they'd been strafed from the air in the 1991-2 hostilities.

The men of the town were playing boules in the park or messing about in their fishing boats, the women were nowhere to be seen.

Back home after dinner the TV showed the archetypal American Romantic Comedy 'Sleepless in Seattle', with a young Tom Cruise and Meg Ryan.

We rode into Biograd on the unmade seafront road and bought bread and rolls to replenish the freezer (excellent choice of loaves here and in Slovenia, just as in the former Yugoslavia, compared with the rest of Eastern Europe). Then to work on one of the 2 machines in the town's computer shop for the next 3½ hrs, sustained with a flask of instant Hungarian coffee (a taste we're still trying to acquire) and a packet of German export Doppelkekkers.

We had emails in from Barney & June (flying to Goa on 22 Dec till 15 Feb) and Keith Durham (thanks for our stuff on Morocco + questions about calor gas). We replied to both, then also wrote to: Karsten & Agata (our plans); Ian Shires (thanks for GPS aerial + our plans); Andrew Hague (resending one from Lake Bled we thought had failed + our plans); Keith Brewster (about to cycle round Oz, with a copy to Pat Cue); Bill & Ruby Johnson (thanks for their offer to help K Brewster). By the time these had all been sent, Keith Durham had replied, with another query about water purifying tablets, so we answered that! He & Brenda set out via Dover/Calais on 10 November, so we may meet.

Next we checked out a few websites: the bank (no probs); Vodafone (who now put our bill on the net rather than on paper); the Whitlock family (who'd updated as far as meeting us at Keszthely); Mundusloci (the site of Dominic Thomas, the artist we'd met at Lake Bled, travelling with Gerry and their 2 young boys for 6 months). Finally, we looked up the schedules and prices for ferries from Croatia to Italy: Jadrolinija (Dubrovnik-Bari or Split-Ancona, both overnight at the same prices), or Adriatica Line (Split-Ancona in the daytime), which would save £50 on a cabin.

By now, Andrew Hague had answered our email with some travel info from his stepson, Nick, but the shop was about to close so we couldn't reply at once. It had been a good session.

Hungry, we cycled back to camp, arriving just as it began to pour with rain - good timing. We tucked into bacon, eggs & fresh bread and spent the rest of the day writing the diary, plus postcards to Angela and to John Covell and a note to Keith along with our list of Greek Campsites open in winter, plus the text of 'Camping Karpouzi' to put him off!

Dry again, we took to the road. We parked by the harbour in Biograd to post our mail and shop at the market. Looked in at the computer shop but the lad said 'Not today' - quite a relief.

Continued SE on the coastal highway E65, running for the next 10 miles between Lake Vransko and a sea studded with tiny islands. Stopped for lunch just before the bridge over the broad estuary of the River Krka, with a view across to Sibenik, its old quarter crowned by the medieval castle of St Ana.

Here we began to check on ferry times and spaces by ringing Adriatica Navigazione, and making a provisional booking on the daytime Split-Ancona sailing on 6 November, just in case.

The highway bypassed Sibenik and provided a challenging but beautiful drive along the fretted coastline, through small fishing villages and the occasional marina. At Trogir, about 15 miles before Split, we paid to park near the entrance to the medieval walled town and walked over the causeway onto the tiny island. A maze of narrow shambling cobbled streets between tall buildings of light Dalmatian stone, like a miniature Venice - a further bridge links it to another island. The Kamerlengo Fortres, very Italianate, is separated from its tower by a modern sports stadium, but most of the town is unspoilt. The central square, the only open space, is flanked by historic buildings: a 15thC Venetian mansion houses the tourist office (which knew nothing about campsites), another 15thC Loggia has a handsome clock tower, but all is overshadowed by the Cathedral of St Lawrence, much more attractive from outside than in.

The Romanesque church was begun about 1200 but finished off 300 years later in sombre Venetian-Gothic style. Inside was gloomy, carved dark woodwork and few windows, relieved only by an incongruous Renaissance chapel to St Ivan, all light and cherubs. The best part, lovingly described in our old RG to Yugoslavia (pre-war), is the exterior of the west portal, fantastically carved by the master-mason Radovan and his apprentices in 1240. Adam and Eve frame the door, each standing on a lion and clutching a fig leaf (very early nude sculpture). On each side, the undesirables of the time (Turks and Jews) carry pillars on their bent backs and above them is a chaos of decoration and twisting tendrils - animals, peasants, biblical figures, saints, mixing orthodox iconography with ordinary life and legend. No Catholic sin and redemption, Christ and resurrection here. We liked it: perhaps the masons were part of a heretical sect.

We drove on to Split (Croatia's largest passenger port, with industry and shipbuilding along with one of the most imposing Roman ruins in existence: Emperor Diocletian's Palace). Looking very keenly for a place to spend the night - campsite, restaurant or hotel with parking, service station - there was nowhere. It was about 5 pm, the roads very busy, dark in an hour, no time to waste checking out the ferry terminal. We bypassed the city and carried on along the coast, hoping to find somewhere to the east of Split. Nothing! About 15 miles further, between Dugi Rat and Omis, we came to a succession of small campsites along the sea, all closed but one, so here we are, on a small site with 2 German vans, about to close at the end of the week. The steep and abrupt entry road scraped Rosie's bottom in a very undignified manner.

A good night's TV followed: an old 'Ali McBeal', the next episode of the Forsyte Saga, and the next hour of a series called '24 Hours'. Starring Kiefer Sutherland, saving the US from a nuclear bomb threat to LA, it makes compulsive viewing.

104 miles. £8.96 inc elec.

Rain began in the night and poured steadily all day, a good test for the windows which B had resealed. The site began to flood and the owner came out wearing only a pair of swimming trunks (it's not cold) to clear a blocked drain! We postponed visiting Split and did some writing, baking and planning. M ventured out to check on buses to Split and phone Jadrolinija ferries. We provisionally booked the overnight boat from Dubrovnik to Bari on 28 October, which could be our final decision. (Even sent Mick & Flo a text).

It took the rest of the day for M's jacket and trousers to dry out!

Weather had changed again, dry and breezy. We caught bendi-bus 60, Omis-Split, at 10.15 am, a good 12-mile ride right into the town centre for under £1 each (as ever, we seemed to be the only ones paying). The bus station was a short walk from the harbour and ferry terminals, where we collected the Jadrolinija ticket booked yesterday. Reservations were computerised, credit cards accepted, all very organised.

From there, we walked along the palm-tree lined waterfront, the shops built into the front wall of Diocletian's Palace - indeed, they now hold it up. The heart of the traffic-free old town is an open-air museum, modern life continuing inside the original palace/fortress walls, washing strung between ancient columns, satellite dishes on Roman arches! Diocletian (245-313 AD) came from Salona, the nearby Roman colony and capital of Dalmatia, and had the palace built for his retirement. It took 10 years (295-305) and contained a garrison, 3 temples, imperial residences, public buildings, store-rooms, etc and his mausoleum. It was later used as a retreat by other Roman rulers and when Salona was abandoned to Slavs in the 7thC, its inhabitants took refuge inside the high walls of the palace. The usual waves of invaders included Byzantium and Hungary, then Venetians held sway from 1420 (when Aspalathos was renamed Spalato, evolving into Split), strengthening the walls against the Turks in the 17thC. Austria took over from 1797-1918. Since 1945 Split grew into Croatia's largest coastal city, with industry, shipyards, limestone quarries, a military port and high-rise concrete flats, but mostly across the harbour from the old town.

We wandered in amazement inside the rectangular fortress, finding its 4 gates and 2 roads which intersect in the central peristyle (colonnaded courtyard), still the scene of everyday life. An open-air lunch at McDonald's (outside the walls and the first we'd seen in Croatia) before entering the Cathedral which was built right over Diocletian's domed mausoleum. He lay for there for 170 years, then disappeared. We found the heads of Mr and Mrs Emperor in the sculpted frieze above the altar - ironic, as he persecuted Christians, including St Anastasius, whose figure in the Treasury has a millstone tied round the neck. A very strange mixture of styles again, Roman with Venetian Gothic overtones in the choir, added in the 17thC. The leaflet mentioned carvings by George the Dalmatian, whom we'd first spotted in Trogir Cathedral - a clever dog! The neo-Romanesque bell-tower could be climbed (we didn't). The Treasury had gloomy reliquaries with holy shinbones and silver heads with a circular cut-out to touch the sacred skull inside.

Through a narrow alley off the peristyle, opposite the cathedral, we found the Temple of Jupiter which looked impressive but was closed for restoration. It had been used as a medieval Baptistry, topped by a bell-tower which has recently been removed. Centuries of addition and alteration make Split a most unusual Roman site.

We moved on to the underground basement halls of the palace, still undergoing excavation since their discovery in 1956. A passage leads through them, from the south gate (which once gave right onto the sea) to the peristyle, now lined with souvenir stalls. For a small charge we had access to many more empty chambers, giving a good impression of the huge size of the imperial residence.

In the Middle Ages the rich merchants had built their houses within the walls (one is now the museum), along with a 15thC Venetian town hall, all in a maze of tightly drawn passageways. The only jarring note, outside the north gate, was a modern (1929) sculpture of the wonderfully named Bishop Gregorius of Nin, who fought for the right to say Mass in Croatian in the 10thC. He deserved better.

Finally, we shopped at the market just outside the walls before catching the bus back to Omis - standing room only all the way. Back to reading and writing, picking pomegranates and preparing to move on. Now we have a deadline - a ferry on the 28th. Or do we?

A fine day's drive down the coast, first along the Makarska Riviera, a string of tiny resorts backed by pine groves from Makarska to Zivogosce. Splendid views all the way of blue sea and offshore islands, the well surfaced road twisting and climbing over headlands. It was easy to find panoramic parking spots for coffee and lunch. B spent much of his lunch-hour fixing the 12-volt supply when we found nothing worked - no water pump, no light, no fridge ignition. At least the solar panel provided enough energy to light the gas fridge and fill the kettle, till the fault was cured.

The E65 bypassed the industrial port of Ploce and crossed the wide estuary of the Neretva River. Its delta forms a broad expanse of reclaimed marshland, very flat and fertile, with an oasis of orange groves and green fields. Citrus fruit was on sale along the road until the landscape dramatically changed again, twisting between sea and jagged limestone hillsides to the border with Bosnia-Hercegovina ( yes!) This small enclave gives that large country its only access to the sea: there is no connecting road and they only use their 5 miles of coast for holidays. There is a customs post but no formalities. Around the one workers' holiday settlement, Neum, we saw the villas of the Communist-era elite (a scandal which hit the press in 1987). We turned off the highway to the signed parking for caravans and made a pot of tea but, with no-one else around except 3 stray dogs and the driver of a hearse, who had stopped to strip some trees of their greenery (for a wreath?), we didn't linger. Past another customs post, we were back in Croatia. They didn't even stamp our passports.

We drove a few more miles, looking for a place for the night (the many small campsites were closed), following the strip of water devoted to oyster and mussel farms between the Peljesac Peninsula and the mainland. We turned onto the peninsula, a 56-mile mountainous finger of land, and soon came to Mali Ston and then Ston, the twin towns guarding Peljesac at its narrowest point. Both villages were extremely well fortified with encircling walls, look-out towers and bastions, and amazingly linked with each other by walls and guardposts which still trail high over the connecting hills. They appeared to fear attack from land as well as from the sea.

In Ston there was a nice flat parking area by the sea-level fortress, a quiet place for the night well away from the coastal highway. We took a short walk round the small cobbled centre and out to the salt flats - now abandoned, the little wooden railway trucks and salt-sacks left to the elements. A long stretch of wall, climbing steeply up the hillside, was being restored and provided with a handrail - we left it for tomorrow. The evening TV had a late-night surprise - Frostov Pristup - or David Jason's 'Touch of Frost' with subtitles. It was one we'd seen some time ago, but no matter.

96 miles. Free parking.

A beautiful clear blue day after a cold night. We walked along the top of the walls, steeply up to the apex on the hillside high above, for a dramatic view of Ston. The grid-iron street plan of the little medieval town, pressed within its defences, was laid out below, the salt-pans and channel to the open sea beyond. Walking down from the guardpost was easier, ending in a scramble of ruins into the town where the restoration wasn't quite finished. The length of wall leading high over the hill to Mali Ston is also being equipped with a handrail but we felt there would be few takers!

Down in the car park we met Rob Lawson and Charlotte from Yorkshire, in an old VW Kombi, recently arrived on the Bari-Dubrovnik ferry which we take next week. They came in for coffee and exchanged stories. Friendly young graduates, they'd tired of working in London, rented out their flat and taken to the road for a year to discover Europe. We gave them plenty of ideas and reading material!

A short drive back to the E65 and SE again, past more tiny ports and resorts, stopping for lunch overlooking the largest, Slano, at the head of a lovely deep bay. Approaching Dubrovnik, a new suspension bridge spanned the Dubrava River, after which we dropped down to the working harbour and ferry port at Gruz, a couple of miles west of the old city which lies on the other side of the wooded Lapad peninsula.

We persuaded a car park attendant that we weren't prepared to pay 10 kunas (almost £1) to stop for 10 minutes to check which quay the weekly Bari ferry used, then continued round Lapad to see if the much advertised Solitudo campsite was open (unlikely but true). Very large, only 4 months old, open all year and 10 mins drive from the ferry - and it lives up to its name at this time of year, with just 2 German neighbours.

We made a pot of tea and had another TV surprise - an old episode of 'Morse' which we'd never seen (in black & white on a channel from Montenegro) followed by the second half of Frostov.

43 miles. £12.13 inc elec.

End of Daylight Saving - all clocks back an hour. It had been a cold clear night and a newly arrived German told of snow in the mountains, coming via Zagreb and Plitvice Nat Park. Diary-writing, dhobi and bringing Alf back to life occupied the rest of the morning, along with a text from Karsten & Agata saying it was cold in their (unheated) flat near Frankfurt. They looked forward to seeing us there!

After lunch Alf took us the 4 miles over the Lapad peninsula to the Old Town, his first outing since Arad in Romania. We left him just outside the Ploce Gate at the NE corner of the walled city, proudly parked between gleaming German machines, all Sturm und Drang in chrome and black leather. At least he'd had a wash today and could tell them a story or two.

Through the gate and into Byron's 'Pearl of the Adriatic', a town founded in 1300 by Greek refugees from Epidavros. 'Ragusa' (as it was called until 1918) soon became an independent city-state, second only to Venice in maritime wealth and power, through trade with the east. We bought our tickets to mount the steps by the gate and walk round the complete circuit (1.6 miles) of the magnificent medieval walls and forts which frame the city, the sea below us on 3 sides (once forming a moat on the 4th). Dubrovnik survived fire, plague and an earthquake in 1677, finally falling to Napoleon in 1808. The remains of his Imperial Fort can be seen, high above the walled town on the bare crest of Srd Mountain at 412 m/1,360 ft. A cable car used to take tourists up there but it was destroyed in the 8-month siege and bombardment of 1991-92, after which UNESCO supervised restoration of this World Heritage City.

Looking down on the marble-paved squares, fountains, palaces, churches, monasteries, the broad pavement of Placa running east-west between the Ploce and Pile Gates, and the grid of steep narrow lanes (all cut from the same white stone), the reconstruction of the walled city is impressive evidence of substantial international aid after the deliberate and pointless shelling by the Yugoslav army (led by the 'Dubrovnik Trio', whose most notorious member 'Rambo' has just been brought to trial for war crimes). Sadly, the majority of the rose-coloured clay pan-tiled roofs had been destroyed and were redone in new red tiles, a stark contrast to the paler weathered originals, but this was the only telling sign. Masonry had been rebuilt with stone from the original quarries on a nearby island.

Walking the walls (the most complete of their age in Europe) we passed 2 round towers, 14 square ones, 2 corner fortifications (including the Minceta Fortress by George the Dalmatian again) and a larger fortress, and overlooked many a line of washing in the yards, gardens and windows of the residents. A few houses were still damaged and abandoned but most had recovered. The interplay of sun, sea, light and stones was magical. Only one cruise ship stood out to sea, its tenders ferrying passengers across for a shore visit (being led round like children in numbered groups), and no large crowds ruined the atmosphere.

Dropping down from the walls, we walked the length of Placa, from the Dominican Monastery at the east end (its staircase balustrade partly filled in by the monks to stop peasants staring at the ankles of ladies on their way to church!) to the Franciscan one at the west (its 14thC pharmacy still working). We returned along parallel Prijeko, the street of a thousand restaurants: 'No thanks, we've already eaten', even though they offered 'Buy One, Get One Free'.

Back home, after dinner, we reviewed the latest digital photos. It was hard to choose between the many images of the photogenic Old City.

In which we have a very strange day indeed, with bad news and good

Anticipating that this was our last day at Solitudo, with a ferry to Italy tomorrow evening, M set out for a shower. Seeing a German motorhome about to leave, she went over to wish them Gute Fahrt and discovered they were on their way overland to Greece, via Albania, the first such intrepids we'd met. The map came out for a quick look at the route and they insisted that ADAC had recently advised there was no problem: roads mountainous but safe, sealed and passable. (Not what ADAC told us last May.) Their normal insurance covered them for the whole of Europe and to the eastern edge of Turkey (particularly annoying, that - same applies to French drivers). We were tempted to follow them, but the ferry is booked and we'd need more information ...

Not wanting to move further away from the UK in case we needed to drive back (or even fly from Dubrovnik) we decided to postpone the weekly ferry until 4 November. So we Alfed down to the Jadrolinija terminal to change the ticket, bought more phonecards and went in search of a garage able to give Rosie a service and oil change in the next few days. One red herring led to another (we even tried the yacht marina), but eventually we spotted a good place, the Citroen dealer who also serviced lorries and buses and booked her in for Wednesday.

Back home, B worked on the 'Bulgars and Romanians' article, tracing the map for it, and we sent a fax to Pat Cue at Comfort about insurance for Albania, etc - still teetering on a decision. M fed the campsite stray ginger tom, made dinner and finally found Pauline home. Not the way she'd expected to spend her half-term - sadly, they should have been in Spain this week.

The TV gave some comfort - another old 'Morse' and the next episode of the gripping '24 Hours' serial.

Barry found he had a painful swollen leg, following an insect sting (wasp or bee, spider or scorpion?) yesterday (despite liberal application of 'Stingose') and we went to the nearby pharmacy for advice. They suggested an injection for an allergic reaction and directed us to the 'English-speaking Tourist Doctor' at the President Hotel on the sea-front near the campsite but the surgery was closed. The receptionist said we could come back at 2 pm or pay about £25 to have him called out.

We went home, consulted the trusty Medical Encyclopaedia, found some antihistamine tablets in the first aid box and had lunch. By 2 pm the tablets were taking effect - Boots 1, Tourist Dr Nil.

Next, off in search of an internet place: a sunny walk through a leafy area of pavement cafes and hotels, finding one by the Kompas Hotel (a large Thomsons-type high-rise). It was quieter and cheaper than the internet cafe by the ferry terminal and we had a good 2 hour session with a nice sea view. There were new emails in from: Bill & Ruby, Keith & Brenda, Ian Kenyon, Ian Shires, Andrew Hague and Taylors Storage. Replies sent to Keith, Andrew and Taylors. Also checked HSBC and Vodafone accounts and surfed for more info on the countries blocking an overland route to Greece. The RAC and AA travel advice was totally useless (wish we could join ADAC), but the Foreign Office advisories were thorough.

Back before dark (by 6 pm now), to read and write. No more messages.

A short outing for Rosie, driving 5 miles past Gruz harbour and along the inlet and via a diesel filling station (a rarity in Dubrovnik) to the Auto Servisni Centar (and Citroen agent) we'd found on Monday. Access was blocked by a bus having a wash, a lorry having a new tyre and 2 cars and a van on or waiting for the ramp, but eventually we got in for a service and oil change, using the oil filter brought from Frenchies. The chief mechanic came inside for a look, followed by an old man called Joseph from Montenegro. When they'd finished we got presents - some lemons from Joseph's garden, a Michelin map of Croatia, an overpowering musk air freshener - and they got lots of kunas: MasterCard no. Joseph had spent 2 months in Albania recently and told us, in German, that we shouldn't travel there. No Way!

Back to the campsite, pausing at the car wash bay by the entrance to fill and dump and give Rosie a quick hose down. Just as we settled back on our pitch for lunch it began to rain hard - good timing - so the afternoon was spent diary-writing, reading, defrosting the fridge, etc.

After reviewing too many alternatives, we finally (?) decided to return to Greece to spend time getting fit again on our under-used bicycles and setting up another round-the-world journey, probably starting in January 2004. A nice setting for a lot of work.

10 miles.

Met Londoners, Mitch & Ricky, who had arrived last night in a small Foster & Day, bringing 2 friends on a whistle-stop tour to Dubrovnik and back (seriously rushed - they are due back at work in Basildon next Tuesday!) At our own sedate pace, we rode Alf to the Hotel Kompas internet centre for another 2-hr session.

There were letters in from Ian Shires and Keith Durham, plus one of Andrew Hague's funnies, 'Decisions' (about Bill Gates going to Hell). Barry copied said piece to a long list of friends, then we wrote emails to Ian Shires, Keith, Andrew and Ian Kenyon. Also a note to Taylors Storage about our next proposed dates. By this time, we had more incoming emails, almost a chat-line! Keith and Ian Kenyon had replied, appreciating the 'Decisions' piece, while Ian Shires had retaliated with a funny of his own, about different nationalities playing rugby. We then got into the more serious business of checking ferries from Italy to Greece on the net. The best deal from Bari or Brindisi is a Blue Star, Brindisi to Igoumenitsa daily except Tuesdays, and the only day-time crossing, dep 1030, arr 2000 hrs. Looks like the way to go.

On the way back we got fruit & veg at the harbour market - half the stalls were given over to candles, wreaths and flowers, with All Saints Day imminent.

By lunchtime rain set in again. M rang Mum, who was out, and left a message. Ditto Taylors Storage. Then we got down to some forward planning, making lists and poring over maps. B wrote provisional itineraries for another round-the-world route for 2004 to be posted to a few agents for a fare quotation. And we began the list of 'to dos', ranging from bike overhaul to rabies jabs and Rosie's storage to GPS maps - 46 items initially.

A dark wet windy evening, on which we didn't take up the invitation to join the Londoners at the nearby bar. A good night's TV instead - 'ER' and the next instalment of '24 Hours' (afraid we'll miss the end of that serial). In 'ER' a patient nearly lost a leg after a bad reaction to an insect bite - coincidentally, Barry's leg and ankle are still inflamed after yesterday's sting, though the swelling is going down and he feels OK.

Mitch & Ricky came in for a chat before setting off back on the long drive up the Croatian coast. All that way, to spend one day in Dubrovnik in the rain - sadly, even their intended boat trip to a nearby island only runs on Sundays. They turned out to be inveterate travellers though, funded mainly by renting out the 2 large houses they owned (inherited), whilst living in a tiny flat and running a garden furniture business. They also have a campervan in Australia, left at a friend's in Adelaide, based on the Toyota Coaster bus, larger than the one we had, which they might want to sell soon ... another idea. We got their address.

Then another couple of hours at the Kompas Hotel internet place, where we're this week's best (if not only) customers. A final email from Keith, whose telephone is about to be disconnected as he and Brenda are ready to take to the road. Barry sent him a reply titled C'est mon dernier pigeon. They have a mobile phone and promise to text once they learn how to take it out of the box! We also wrote to Pat Cue and Taylors Storage again. B copied the Rugby funny to the usual list of friends, then got back to surfing the net. We checked the visa requirements for East Asia (India and Vietnam, yes; Thailand and Malaysia, no); requested passport renewal forms from Liverpool; found a GPS dealer in the Lake District and asked for a price for a carrying case and a larger chip (32 or 64 mb).

Home for lunch via the supermarket, where the roast chickens were just coming off the spit - good timing again! Then M found she'd left her specs by the computer, so back to the Kompas Hotel for them. We found another absolutely final email in from Keith: 'Spain and Morocco here we come - over and out!'

M rang Blue Star line in Ancona to check availability for Brindisi-Igoumenitsa for Friday 7 November (no problem). An ideal ferry, giving us 2 days to drive down from Bari. Also did some mending and cleaning while B finished off polishing the piece on Bulgaria and Romania for possible publication. Still the map and photos to finish - probably when we reach Greece.