Just bliss to be here in Croatia after dusty, pressure cooker London. Open blue skies, pretty clouds wisping across the Ucka mountains, lush greenery and summer fruits and flowers in bloom.
S has been a hit with her Croatian family – two great aunts, a great uncle, second and third cousins – walking and chattering and she impressed everyone by wolfing down a fish soup.
We are all feeling revived and loving sitting out on the balcony enjoying the view and the air and sun.
C now wants to move to an apartment 12th century stone village in the countryside. Only €400 per month! We went to the Labin food market this morning – OMG, the local produce, cheeses and meats (and rakia) are just sublime.
Although C has not given up his London campaign “But if we lived in London, we could visit Croatia all the time” etc – but he has thought the better of insisting that ‘life will be over, forever’ if we live in Melbourne for one second longer. Of course, it would be (sort of) nice to live in London and have a nanny and three bedrooms and a garden and a car etc – but somewhat unrealistic. And I will definitely go mad if we live in a dark, tiny, airless flat on the world’s busiest road in east London. Do I really want S to grow up as a Londoner? But imagine if she could learn another language (French! Croatian!) and actually be able to use it regularly… argh! It hurts my head thinking about this, still, getting on for three years after we moved back to Melbourne….
Michael Jackson? The last time we three were in Croatia together, Hurricane Katrina kept us glued to the television (that and MTV’s Pimp My Ride – the ultimate holiday trash viewing). This time, it’s Michael Jackson’s conspiracy-riddled, untimely death. I think I have heard the 911 tape about 50 times, and seen the ‘Thriller’ film clip (all 20 mins of it) at least 5 times – we have no direct internet (the horror!) at our lovely apartment here in Rabac on the coast of Istria, with a balcony overlooking a gorgeous blue bay and terracotta roofs with an occasional storm rolling across the green hills – just satellite TV which is largely German programs. Our only source of English is that overflowing garbage channel, CNN. Brain definitely rotting.
Hoping to get to swim in the next few days before we head to Venice on Friday. More stupidity on my behalf (Bridges! Stairs! Cobblestone pavements! Er, boats!). Did I forget we were travelling with a baby? Also feeling very revved up about Florence – the guide book is making me plan my dotage as a Florentine…
