Croatia Report 

We crossed the border into Croatia, after being desensitized to the sight of pigs on spits in Slovenia, stayed one night on the Istrian peninsula and hopped on a ferry to the Island of Cres.

Torrential rains have plagued the expedition as of late.  Last night we descended an 18% grade hill into what we thought would be a campground but turned out to be a puddle stained with motorhomes.  

The thought of ascending the hill even before the downpour started was unbearable.  With our now perfected “fuck it” attitude we decided to drink under a restaurant awning until the act of setting up a tent and sleeping in a downpour would be something we wouldn’t remember.  

After buttering up our waiter, Dean, and getting some complimentary drinks the rain storm stopped, but I still don’t remember setting up the tent.  

We woke up early and had the beach all to ourselves.  Sometimes Maximum Romance is all about waiting out the storm.

August 23rd was a milestone day.  

As a lover, bordering on adict, of chapstick I have PLENTY around.  But today, was the first time I re-purposed it’s waxy sweetness for use on my butt hole.

The heat will make you do crazy things… or the heat will make you do insanely practical things that others find horrifically disgusting.  

It was after another “grind my butt out” style hill in some practiced Mediterranean sunshine when the ahhhhh-inspiring moment hit me.  And right there on the side of the shadeless and shameless shoulder of the road, I dropped my pants and christened the maiden voyage of my butt stick.

Chapstick medicated, if you were wondering, and ‘Oh the menthol!’  The rest of the day was just fucking fantastic.  A 60 km ride across a barren desert island in the heat of the day, no problem.  

Last night we stayed just outside the town of Cres in a four star resort campground.  There needs to be a different word for campgrounds here.  None of the European campgrounds, even the ones that boast of offering a connection to nature are up to our hoity toity western states wilderness standards.  They are instead just RV parks that offer tent spots.  

It broke our spirits in many ways.  Now, everyone we talk to, we ask if they know of a quiet place to stay… most don’t.  

Feeling defeated, we boarded a ferry to Zadar to rent an apartment for a few days and reconsider everything we are doing with our lives.
Zadar is an ancient town with established settlements dating from the Neolithic age and seems to have played some part in all of documented history since then.  Though this information was mostly gleaned from Wikipedia.  Being in the town feels not unlike the atmosphere of a tourist town built mostly of vacation rentals.