Day 32 – It’s clearly not cricket . . .

In Beastie’s enclosed space a fly can be the most irritating thing on earth. Although on occasions, I can run it a close second. (according to Mrs S). It will enter by the minutest of openings – yet shown a wide open window or door it’ll teasingly fly towards it and then do a U-turn, before skidding to a halt and resting on your nose!

At home this summer we seemed to be plagued by more flies than usual. Even sitting out was troublesome. Shortly before leaving for this trip we invested in the very latest gizmo. A battery operated fly swatting tennis racket. Those foreign flies were not going to know what zapped them. I’d be able to practise my Federesque backhand and at the same time lay to rest a few buzzers.

Although the central door along with every window in Beastie is fitted with a fly net, they sneak in. We discover we can’t swing. No room. A short fast pat-a-pat action required. Fails time and time again. A tried and trusted rolled up magazine the quicker and more efficient option.

Our first and only success came just two days ago. Game, set and match Mary-Ann . . . .

Our current two nighter, down the coast the other side of Split, is right on the sea front at Camping Viter, in Zaostrog. Beastie is parked up fifty metres from a church that likes to keep time. We’re hoping that it too likes to nap from midnight to eight. We’ll see.

Not my photo – that’s why no sign of Beastie. We’re less than 100 paces from a dip in the Adriatic . . .

We’re giving the Croation culture the cold shoulder for the time being. Concentrating on the scenic D8 coastal road and reaching Dubrovnik by Tuesday. Intending to meet up with Paul & Kath. Paul’s the only person (exc. family) I’ve known longer than Mary-Ann. A great mate and a true friend.

On reflection, we both agree that yesterday’s bike ride is the worst ever. We set off with high hopes. A figure of eight route planned around two adjoining lakes. At times the near gale force blasts attempt to send featherweight Mary-Ann for a Burton. It doesn’t suit her.To make matters more difficult, the surface deteriorates into a rock encrusted track. It’s slow going. Not very scenic. The perimeter used as a dumping ground. Every type of household waste and builders’ rubble stacked in piles. We’re pleased to get back to base. Bikes and bodies intact.

Almost . . .

Mary-Ann’s front tyre took a double whammy.

Two thorns Wesley . . .