And that my friends, is where this blog finally* ends.
* I am well aware this blog post is over two-and-a-half years late! Oops! Better late than never, I guess...
With the 'touristy' thing under our belts (oh how we've mastered the art of looking at old buildings), it was back to the boat to meet our fellow shipmates for the week over a delicious crumbed-fish dinner. Having booked too late to get on an 18 to 35-year-old boat, we were a little worried that we would be stuck on a boat full of retirement-home residents, but our boat had the perfect mix of ages, nationalities and personalities.
Despite being terrified of heights – climbing up stairs with gaps in them freaks him out – Craig crumbled under peer pressure and jumped from the very top deck of our boat with a couple of other Aussie blokes. Some very feminine screams echoed around the bay when they finally took the plunge, and it became something of a ritual at every swimming stop.
For night three, it was a stop in the refreshingly tourist-free Trstenik. We tasted wine in this tiny town and swam at its crystal clear beach. That night, it was the captain's dinner, with sea bass on the menu (my seafood-eating prowess has not yet extended to whole fish staring at me on my plate) and at €20 a pop, Craig and I opted for another enormous pizza and a 40 kuna ($AU9.50) litre of wine on the beach.
After devouring the pizza we could hear some serious music pumping from across the bay. 'Is that coming from our boat?' we asked each other in disbelief. On further investigation, we found our entire boat busting some serious moves on the back deck. We quickly joined in and 'got down' to the likes of Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson, with the oldies giving us a serious run for our booty-shaking money.
Seriously, jot sailing Croatia on your do-before-I-die list – it honestly doesn't get any better.