Marci and Steve Go Back to Europe

Pebble Beach Pros (and Cons) and Zlatni Rat Beach I remember laying on the hard and lumpy pebble beach in Nice in the semi-warm sunshine of a winter day way back in the 70's, in my jeans and sweater and not enough money in my pocket to rent a sunbed, if they were even available off-season. We sat with our backs supported by the wall and I am sure I thought how much nicer it would be on some soft sand.  Croatia has an incredibly beautiful, rocky coastline and islands galore filled with small coves, secret swim spots and spits of beach, but rarely sand. It's a new kind of beach beauty and a new beach experience. But laying on Zlatni Rat in the pebbles, on our sunbeds and under our umbrellas on Thursday, I became if not a convert, at least a fan.  Pebbles don't get as hot as sand.  Pebbles shake off your towel in two seconds and never blow in anyone else's face.  Pebbles stay where they belong, on the ground when the  wind blows, no sand in your face or your food. ...

Driving the Dalmatian Coast After exchanging emails and hugs goodbye early Wednesday morning in Dubrovnik, we disembarked our sail and embarked on our driving adventure up the Dalmatian Coast of Croatia. In our tiny red VW Up!, we cruised quickly North along a high coast road with wide winding lanes and guard rails,  It is September and the highway is empty and the 57 km to reach Mali Ston fly by. Mali Ston sits on the Peljesic peninsula, a peninsula with so little attached land to the Mainland, it feels like another of of Croatia's many islands. But we are going because they claim they are the Capitol of oysters. We zig zag our way down the cliffs to the harbor and can already spy the hundreds of oyster beds below and mentally taste the brine of the sea and feel the shell in our mouth.  There are three restaurants nestled on the water, not ten, not twenty, they are not big or busy. No waiting for a stool or lining up like when you want a bowl of clam chowder at Smit...

Lessons Learned A week aboard a 35 paasenger sail is a bit like the story of the Goldilocks and Three Bears. Whether it is a  port , or a time of day to sail or a dinner companion, all may be good but only some are 'just right'.  Corfu was a tourist town, run amok with passengers from the Ruby Princess and souvenir shops selling tee-shirts. The New Port, where we docked, was a five minute blue bus ride or a twenty-five minute walk. Cruising being a more or less sedentary sport for passengers, we opted for what turned out to be a long, hot walk along not too clean or too enticing streets, arriving at the edge of Old Town a bit sweaty. Wondering where the Greek Isle white walls and blue shutters were hiding, we soon discovered Corfu is less an island like Mykonos and more a town like Dubrovnik, with forts and walls built by the Turks and Romans.  We unexpectedly stumbled upon the synagogue, still surviving, after most of its 2200 Jews were killed in Auschwitz, with onl...

Paradise......with a bit of DownUnder  Saturday, the last of August, and as we approach our fourth and final month abroad, we find Paradise. After an immigration stop early in the morning, we sail to Antipaxos, a small Greek island in the Ionian Sea, too small to have a large cruise ship, hurray! As we approach, on a navy blue sea, we spy the bands of blue and then turquoise waters leading to the small sand beach.  We anchor close in and while the crew is out in the dinghy tying the rope onto the rocks and putting out the swim buoys, we rush into our 'cossies' that show a bit of our 'boozies'  (that is Aussie talk for bathing suits from the more formal swim costumes and a nicer word than most slang for boobs.....more Aussie vocab later) and climb the ladder down into the sea and float.  We watch as our best swimmer, Patricia, the thinnest on board in the smallest bikini, dives off the first deck,  two meters high.  That began the contests as others jumped, ...