BootsnAll Travel Network

Korcula: Fresh

Now Korcula, this was our kinda place. After dodging tourists in Hvar, Korcula was bliss. Our original plan of staying three nights turned into five, yet when I think back to what we did – not a whole lot stands out. Our days consisted of reading, swimming, and sitting by the water. That’s about it.

The town of Korcula is on the Eastern end of the island Korcula, only two or three kilometers across from the peninsula that extends from mainland Croatia. Much like Hvar, Korcula, and the peninsula across the water, was made of mountains rising up out of the sea. The views were amazing, and the water was a crystal blue colour, plenty warm enough too.

Our apartment was right in the middle of town, and just around the corner was a brilliant place called Fresh. It was an outdoor bar/cafe, that served the best wraps and smoothies I’ve come across, and also had a happy hour every night with two for one beers. The sort of place where I could wander down barefoot, and sit on the paving with a cold beer watching the sun set.

Our first night there, I noticed a some Australian travellers, a couple from Sydney, who we had spoken to whilst waiting for the ferry back in Hvar. Bec had told me stories about meeting heaps of wonderful people during her last overseas trip, and I’d been looking forward to hearing stories from others, and meeting likeminded people. The guy, I never caught his name, grabbed a beer from the counter, seemed to look over at me sitting at the table, and then turned away, and went and sat somewhere else. At the time, I was a bit disappointed. These were the just about the first travellers I’d spoken to on this journey, but now that I look back, he was wearing a bum bag, so it was probably for the best.

Our third night in town during happy hour at Fresh, however, once I’d forgotten about trying to meet other travellers, Bec and I started talking to some great girls, Fiona and Sallie, sisters from Canberra. Before long we were joined by a Californina named Jason, who the girls had met on the ferry that day, and soon it was like we’d known them for years. After a couple of beers there, Jason told us about a bar he knew of that was run by the son of the guy who owned the apartment he was staying in (still with me?). The four of us follwed him into the old town of Korcula, another maze of tiny paved alleyways, and down a dimly lit lane. He stopped outside an open, unmarked door, and motioned for us to go in. And then, we stepped into the real Croatia. The bar was tiny, think of the size of your living room, then halve it. If you live in an house, not an apartment, halve it again. It was barely 10 feet by 6 feet, with a small bar in the corner, and 5 or so people chattering away. Amir, the guy behind the bar, greeted us like old buddies, in perfect English, and got us some drinks.

30 seconds later, someone passed me a joint. I paused, and looked around. I was in shorts and t-shirt, barefoot, in a tiny bar on an island off Croatia, no tourists in sight, with a beer in one hand, a joint in the other, and the girl I love standing next to me.

Life is good folks. Life is good.

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