I feel hot just looking at the duvet we brought: it’s not the sort of thing you need in continental Europe in July, particularly if there’s a heatwave on the cards! I’m afraid we’re having a bit of a wardrobe malfunction too, used as we are to travelling in the depths of winter, when jumpers are extremely helpful. Maybe I should just buy into the lacy tops and short shorts look?! That would clear the beaches in moments I think..
I was mulling over the shorts look as I followed the young man in his rather flashy Bjorn Borg boxers out of the showers, definitely a shorts theme going  on here I thought …..
These were not the same showers as the ones I’d exited in haste a few days earlier.

In quest of that perfect shower, I’d been struggling with the controls, attempting to find some hot water, my head all in a lather of shampoo and trying to avoid hearing the rather unladylike noises coming from the lavatory next door. “What are you doing in the men’s showers Ginny?!” asked Alan as he hoved into my rather blurry (without glasses) line of sight. I didn’t quite have a Psycho shower moment but I shot out of the showers like a scalded cat ( which I wasn’t as the water was cold)….I found sanctuary and hot water in the ladies showers opposite and finally got rid of the lather.
I think I last left you in Croatia where we were camped  by the sea, in a lady’s very large garden. We enjoyed our time there, though we did begin to tire of the number of tents and vans she managed to squeeze into the rather small area. No one was turned away, there were no Bethlehem moments here, nor indeed in any site we’ve subsequently visited. It’s definitely the more, the merrier and so we find ourselves cheek by jowl with other vans and tents, as wild camping is not allowed in Croatia and there are stiff fines if you transgress. Campers are a rather different breed to motorhomers, they tend to bounce up at 7am all bright eyes and bushy tails, rattling their metal plates all ready for the off, while motorhomers are still slouching off to the showers in their pyjamas at 9 or even, dare I say it, 10?!
We did run away from one site though: it was in a great location in a pine wood by the beautiful Croatian sea but it was just so cramped! It would have been like sharing with every single member of Sylvanian Families ever produced. Plus their fridges, supplied to campers to keep their food cold, very sensible. So we upped sticks and moved.

That’s not to say we haven’t enjoyed the Croatian seaside, which is fabulous and so much more relaxed than the Mediterranean. Maybe because its beaches are narrow and pebbly, one doesn’t get so hot: the sea is much closer, you get a breeze and you don’t get hot sand blowing in your face. Nor do you get the strange contortions of people sunbathing with their legs at strange angles, like rows of chickens in a rotisserie. It’s just quieter, easier and full of families enjoying themselves.

There’s obviously plenty of money in Croatia, as several large yachts moored nearby testify. I wondered how these rich Croatians made their fortune….maybe they produce/supply/transport the shingle for all the thousands of miles of Croatian coastline? Maybe they make all the fridges? Or shorts? Or maybe they are the producers of all the cheese and honey we saw as we drove north?
Heading away from the coast and the national parks, oozing tourists by the bus load, we headed for the hills and very beautiful they were too. It was a bit like driving through Heidi land, chalets with shutters and vast quantities of geraniums and endless verges of wildflowers, with high mountains looming in the background. At any moment one expected Julie Andrews to come rushing across a meadow in her apron and puff sleeves and burst into song. Yes, I know she wasn’t in Heidi but Heidi didn’t sing very much…It was very hard to stop myself from bursting into ‘High on a hill lived a lonely goatherd…’ but I did….
And as we drove, we kept seeing all these roadside stalls selling honey and cheese, so much so, that we began to refer to it as the Land of Cheese and Honey. Strangely, apart from the occasional herd of cows, sheep and cows were curiously absent. I began to form the view that the cheese and honey were being produced by a chap called Milan, in an industrial estate in Zagreb, using EU milk surpluses and helping the Croatian economy into the bargain. Not true of course but it made us chuckle and that’s how another millionaire made his money.
As we headed north, we made for a place called Knin and kept referring to it as the place where the knights who say ‘Knin’ live…..
And so we headed onwards and northwards into Slovenia, leaving Croatia behind us. Croatia : a place where drivers are more considerate and actually stop to let you cross on a pedestrian crossing, acknowledge if you slow down to let them pass, don’t  Barge and people are generally pleasant and helpful to tourists. It’s strange to think that war was raging here less than 30 years ago, occasionally you see a ramshackle building and wonder if it’s age or war which has caused the damage but otherwise, the evidence is negligible, they seem to be making a success of things. Maybe membership of the EU has something to do with it? Hush my controversial mouth….
On which note, I will leave you from my riverside view in Slovenia.
Oh and the duvet is safely tucked away……