Circumstances can skew your perspective. What can be acceptable one minute, can be unacceptable the next. One minute you’re Dr Jekyl. The next Mr Hyde.
Time plays tricks. Having all the time in the world to get from A to B causes no stress. Yet, squeeze that time frame down. Add a deadline. Throw a slow moving vehicle, or two, into the mix and those stress levels can rise faster than a boiling pan of milk.
Being a relatively slow moving vehicle, Beastie has got used to sharing the roads and by-ways with others of the same ilk. Lorries, tractors, trailers and the like are all treated with the same respect. When he’s the front man, he’s often been known to briefly pull over. Release the stopper. Prevent a further build up of steam. Toots and flashes of appreciation always worth the consideration.
Day 58 – We overnight at Camping Zornica Kuca. A large hotel complex with an equestrian centre and children’s farm. Nicola the manager welcomes us with a Serbian favourite – Rakia. Plum flavoured rocket fuel. Even though the quantity wouldn’t fill a thimble, it’s one of those drinks where the after-burner kicks in at the back of your throat, as your feet slowly start to lift off the ground.
Day 59 – We move into Croatia and onto Kamp Odmoriste Zlatni Lug, another been here before stop. Though this time a little more convoluted. We arrive at 5.55pm. The facilities are all locked up. The keyless entry card has to be picked up from Zlatni Lug Restaurant, down in the village, which we’ve just passed through, 2K back. Today is Saturday. Croatia are playing their first Euro match. A ‘biggy’ – it’s against Spain. Cars and people togged up in their famous red and white check. Proud flags fly from most houses. Respective national anthems stream from every household. An optimistic buzz fills the air. Humming out a call to victory. No doubt with high hopes of causing another upset – as they did against England in the World Cup semi of 2018. The restaurant is heaving. Car park full. They have a huge outside screen set up to show the match. Plus, there’s a birthday event going on. Though it seems most are more interested in the match, including the birthday girl. The manager eventually drags himself away to deal with the unexpected shorts and flip-flop gatecrasher. Passports photocopied. Card gets issued.
By the time we sit down to dinner, all is as quiet as a funeral wake. We have the airwaves to ourselves. Spain must be winning.
Our earlier border crossing a dim and distant memory . . .
There’s a gap between the two country borders. A sort of no man’s land. A slow moving car park. Oddly, no one is interested in a game of footie.
A lorry gets pulled over for inspection. Driver interrogated. Obviously his answers and documents don’t satisfy. He obligingly unwraps the whole of one side of his trailer. The officer wants proof of the shrink-wrapped contents. With only a large screwdriver to hand he can’t get into any of the packaging. He feebly stabs at one pile. Like a reluctant assassin assigned to kill his granny. His shoulders shrug, “I just can’t do it”. She doesn’t believe him. Insists. He shakes his head. Then brings a ladder. Hands over the screwdriver. She pokes, rather than stabs. More in a threatening manner, than one which will do any real harm. Perhaps worried, in case a pile stabs back. It’s no use, the shrink wrap wins the day. More dissatisfaction. More shoulder shrugging. She reluctantly relents. Lets him through.
Day 60 – and onto Camping Slapic for a two night stop to catch breath. It’s a beautiful location alongside the Mreznica River. A game of table tennis and swim ease away today’s journey.
Day 61 – A day of rest and refresh. We still have about 2,000K to clock, so we’re taking some deep breaths before the long push for home. A short bike ride into town. Lunch by the river. Sun bathe. Swim. Al fresco. There is good there is.
