"When you’re on a golden sea, you don't need no memory, just a place to call your own..."

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The ferry from Split to Korčula was relatively still and non-nausea-inducing. Hooray. on the way, we stopped at the port at Hvar island, and I momentarily thought about getting off there and staying in Hvar for one night. But oh well.

The LG guide had said that there was really only one hostel on the island and to look for "a guy wearing a cowboy hat." Upon leaving the boat, I did see a guy wearing a sombrero holding a hostel sign, but I thought that maybe that was the competition preying on innocent, tired backpackers who read LG 😉. After a once-around, I asked the sombrero man if he was Zlatko, the hostel owner I had spoken to on the phone. Indeed he was, and he led a group of us all of about 200 feet from the dock to the front door of the Korčula Backpackers hostel. We stepped into a brightly-colored, Indian print paradise with a bar, padded print benches and batik fabric billowing between the ceiling rafters. It was like my wall tapestry from back home had reproduced and sent its offspring to Croatia. I paid for two nights and checked into my room (which had 3 sturdy bunks with Indian-print fitted sheets and a balcony overlooking the port and a small plaza).

So what would be the logical thing to do upon arriving in a new city? Take a look around, explore, take some photos, right? But since I am being the anti-Becky on this trip, I went downstairs and watched Team America in the common room, which a number of the guys in the room seemed to know word for word. In the crowded room were Vince (yay!) and a large group of younger-looking English guys who were passing around a bottle of nasty fruit-flavored cheap booze and occasionally giving an enthusiastic singsong "A-meri-ca, fuck yeah!" along with the movie.

Once the movie was finished, I joined Vince, the English Blokes, and two Australian girls, Emily and Steph, for dinner. The only space that would hold us at the very touristy restaurant was indoors... which was a bad idea, since the EBs were smashed and could no longer tell the meaning of "inside voices." There were 6 of them that had gone to college together, meaning that they were all roughly 19 or 20. Adam, sitting across from me, attempted to explain their group dynamic; however, he was wasted, so I heard each story about three times throughout the course of the meal. Mark, next to me, seemed the most mature and was therefore delegated to be the keeper of everyone's money. His friend Duncan was next to him, and completing the group were three Richards, none of whom were called "Richard," because that's way too confusing when you're drinking. The loudest Richard went by "Eggie," sat at the head of the table, and occasionally bellowed, "BEQUIETTHISISARESTAURANT!!!" to the rest of us. I could only laugh, amused but also mortified. Two of the guys were having a very difficult time saying "hvala" - which means thank you- and would yell out "HOOOW-ALLA!!!!" (rhymes with "koala"). Richard #2 gave up and just resorted to shouting "SHABBAH!" (this means nothing) whenever he thought fit. The EBs also told a very entertaining story about how during their lunch by the water, as a seagull swooped down to get a bite of their food, the seagull itself was attacked and dragged under the water by a large octopus. I don't know whether I believe this or not, by apparently the group spent the next half hour trying to re-create the scenario to photograph for posterity, to no avail.

Things were better once we left the restaurant. It was going to be a very weird night. We started off at a bar called Massimo, which was built into the old stone turret of the city wall. To reach the open-air top floor, you had to climb a very steep wooden ladder (which, I was informed, Eggie had fallen down the night before) on the inside of the tower, then your drinks would be lifted to you via a dumbwaiter. I was shocked at the top: it was very windy, and it was the first time on the trip (and definitely in Croatia) that I was COLD. At the top, the EBs continued to shout, and before long all the locals had left. A large other group from the hostel was soon to join us. The poor waitress! We ended up finishing off the night at the outside bar of Gaudi, whose indoor club had played both MC Hammer and Haddaway - legitimately- in the past few days and was recommended to be avoided by almost anyone that I talked to.

The next morning, I walked around the town a bit, checking out the churches and sitting down for a while at a cafe for breakfast and to write in my journal. Hmmm... it would be a good afternoon to check out the beach, but I didn't know if I could handle a whole afternoon at the beach with the EBs, as nice as they were. Fortunately, I ran into John, a tradesman from Melbourne staying at the hostel whom I had briefly met the night before at Massimo. He didn't have any plans (both of his travel companions were still asleep in the early afternoon), so he decided to join me. Already, on the bus to Lumbarda, I was relieved to have found someone my own age: John was also 26. He lives in Australia, but his family is Italian, so he speaks the language. At Lumbarda, we stopped for some water and a snack at the little cafe there, then stepped out onto the beach, which was ... sandy! YAY! Many of the beaches here are rocky and somewhat uncomfortable to recline on with my super-thin sarong, so this was a welcome switch. The weather was PERFECT: this was also the first time on the trip were I could sun without feeling as if my skin was frying. The water was clear, there was a nice breeze: it was a fantastic afternoon. We compared digital photos: John had left Croatia a week earlier, taken numerous trains and buses to Germany, where he finally was able to track down someone with a World Cup ticket. He paid 900 Euro and was able to attend the World Cup final. The pictures were amazing, and he said it was the best day of his life.

We stayed until 7pm, then took the bus back and agreed to meet up for dinner later on.
This took a little longer than expected, since we accidentally walked about 10-15 minutes in the wrong direction into a residential area. No worries: the walk was nice and the sunset on the harbor was gorgeous. It took a little bit of effort to find a decent restaurant; we needed to hurry, because neither of us had eaten anything since the fries at the Lumbarda cafe, and we felt close to passing out. We found this fancy-looking fish restaurant in a courtyard near the city wall and pier and were amazed to see that it was not out of our budgets. Starving, we ordered both a warm starter and a meal each. The starter was served in the largest half-shell I have ever seen, was absolutely delicious (I had seafood risotto and salmon with grilled vegetables) and possibly the most filling thing I have ever eaten. We felt so awful: the appetizers were so good and so massive that we could only manage a few bites of the entree. There was a large group of wealthy-looking people, most likely a yacht tour, at a long table a few feet over. Their leader gave an endless, boring, nonsense speech (could you even call it a speech?), chuckling at his own cleverness and inside jokes. We had a good time snickering at their pretention.

John and his friends had to check out that night since they would be leaving for Hvar on the 6 am ferry the next morning, so it took a while for them to pack, get everything settled with Zlatko, who was in the middle of hosting a wild party in the hostel common room, and make their plans. In the meantime, I mingled with some other hostellers, one of whom I had seen in Split at a cafe. My memory is not THAT great: I just recall him so well because he is the only one in Croatia, I'm sure, who has a Michigan Rugby tshirt 😊. Coincidentally, his travel mate went to college at a place very close to where I went. Small world.

The rest of the night consists of me getting cranky because I was tired and incipiently sick and didn't feel much like drinking. I was at Dos Locos listening to Vince and John and thinking, "I need to get the hell out of here", as much as I liked the two of them. We said our goodbyes ("Ciao, bella!") and I headed back to go to bed. I have a free place to stay if ever I visit Melbourne😉

Thus began my night of hell. I had ordered a Red Bull at the bar, so I wasn't able to fall asleep right away. Here is the timeline of the morning:

3:30-ish am: Fall asleep
4:30: I hear someone loudly informing others that someone had been caught having sex in the hallway bathroom. Wonderful. Further descriptions ensue. Ugh.
4:45: I hear Adam and his friends staggering in the hall. Earlier, in a stupor, he had jumped into the water by the pier and was stung on the face by an enormous jellyfish. His face was red and welted. More Karlovačko followed to dull the pain.
5:00: Two girls drag their wasted girlfriend, who had lost Ł100 earlier that night and was slurring to anyone she saw to please find her missing Ł100, into the shower room on our floor and put her to bed. I also think I hear John trying to get his friend up for the ferry.
5:15: I get out of bed, go outside where the security guard is working, and we look at each other incredulously. He said, "tomorrow, it will be worse." I see John, he hugs me goodbye and says "I haven't slept for all the 7 days we've been here. Try your iPod."
5:30: Drunken Aussies in next room come back.
5:45: Said drunken Aussies begin singing the Righteous Brothers.
6:00: Said drunken Aussies scream from their balcony (about 5 feet around the corner from my balcony) at their friend, who is apparently streaking through the square below.

I don't know when I finally fell back asleep, but when I woke up, I felt awful. I had never had such a terrible night in a hostel before. I checked out, got my passport back, found a private room within an hour, and slept for the rest of the day. Ahhh.

Next up: my belated Korcula departure, a bad day, and nude snorkeling!

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Photos

Night market
We sell everything from jewelry to scarves to Croatia tshirts with Bart Simpson dropping his pants.

Men with Hats
Duncan, Eggie, and Richard #2 bought hats together. Later, as the hats were falling apart, they gave bits of straw to people as "signs of friendship."

Vince ascends
This was the ladder that Eggie fell down the night before. Smooth :).

At Cocktail Bar Massimo
Vince, me, Adam, Emily, and Mark

Are you being served?
Eggie and I seduce the waiter.

Look, Ma, no sunburn!
A perfect day at the beach.

Feeling a bit squiddy, are you?
(Sorry, lame joke). John was braver than I and ordered octopus salad. Yowza.

Zlatko
Hostel owner and partier extraordinaire