Croatia 23 Novalja /someone threw a whole load of seeds on the verges/ Pizza and oompah music /the Novalja marathon/ yet another trip up

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Gabby is parked on a camping site where we should not even be. It is our worse nightmare . Hundreds of pitches, entertainments for the children, what looks like plastic food and noise. The sort of campsite we look at and move on before we even park up. Or one where we have to bite the bullet and stay but stay only one night.

The journey to the border with Croatia was relatively uneventful. The road was winding and slow. We followed slow moving traffic. One lorry that we could not pass and we were slowed down by village after village with a 50kph speed limit. It was a frustrating drive if the truth be told. Eventually we did arrive at border control and handed our passports over. A Slovenian border guard gave them a cursory glance, glanced at us and shooed us through into no mans land. The bit between the two countries that no one wants to take responsibility for and has a somewhat scruffy air. The Croatian border guard glanced at the passports even less waving us through with barely a nod. So much for security at border posts. Schengen has a lot to answer for. The roads now were much better quality. We could pick up speed, overtake at will. It was though at a cost - a peage 150 kunas handed over and we were again on our way. Passing the high rise flats of Rijeka.

We stopped for lunch overlooking the most blue of seas . The sun was bouncing off the limestone cliffs and there were flowers everywhere. Spring is a lovely time to be in this part of the world. A sea of mauve from the thistles and vibrant yellow spikes of Mignonette. It looked as if someone had sprinkled packet after packet of seeds in the verges and they had all sprung to life. We left the motorway and headed along the slower coast road to Senj. The scenery was breathtaking. The flowers even more vibrant . Blue Bearded Iris , yellow sedum hugging the soil as far as the eye could see and the most metallic mauve of the tiny iris plants which were everywhere.

We arrived at the ferry in good time in the end and parked up whilst I went in search of tickets. 192 kuna for Gabby for a single journey and 34 kuna for the two passengers. The ferry station looked exactly like the one we took to Cres. The ferry was on its way. We could see it as we ate ice creams. The weather has certainly perked up and it was getting warm in Gabbys cab. The journey over took 15 minutes . Just enough time to get out of Gabby , climb on deck , sit down and then get up again,

Pag is a barren island given over to sheep farming. The Pag cheese is manufactured all over the island and sold in small outlets along the roadside. There are no trees and very little vegetation. The sun bounces off the white rocks . It is reminiscent of the Peak District with small fields bounded with stone walls. Our destination was Camping Strasko just outside of Novalja. It was massive . As we drove in our hearts dropped as we saw acres and acres of empty plots . It must house thousands when full. It is an ACSI site and reception gave me a map telling me I could park on any of the plots they had circled. Most had sea views. I got lost. It took some while to realise that the campsite was so large it needed to be divided into areas - red area, blue area and yellow area. The colours were marked on the road for drivers to follow. Eventually it clicked and we drove up to plot 264 which was occupied by a car belonging to a Polish tugger. Tuggers like their plot and love to park their cars on someone elses. He reluctantly moved glaring at us for making him move. We didnt like the plot . We would have been on a wonk so decided to hunt out plot 292 which turned up much better. Whilst Glenn set up I set off to reception to give them our plot number and buy a jeton for the washing machine. I had made my mind out we were not staying two nights. It was pretty awful. Made worse by getting lost again and then the washing machine ate my jeton but refused to work.

In the end the site grew on us. We were parked next to a young German couple, their child, their bikes and their jet ski and a huge van suitable for Moroccan overlanding. We had a lovely view of the sea, People were walking , bike riding , skating and running along the lovely promenade. We headed over to the Plaza for a pizza and were entertained by a witches convention complete with Harry Potter wands and brooms and a man with a chicken on his head. We were serenaded by a Oompa band. All in all we started to warm to the campsite.

In the morning we braved the Tourist Train into town. It was nothing special . More modern than old and more marina than town. There were a number of cafes and the Novalja marathon was being run. We headed that way in the direction of loud music to find the TV cameras out in force. It was at that point I did what I always do . Tripped over the pavement and hit my knee. A man came over to enquire if I were OK. Embarrased as always I thanked him and shuffled to my feet. Working out as I always do if all my bones were still intact. A double espresso to the rescue and I managed to get to the wall to cheer on the marathon finishers.

There was little to keep us in town. We headed back. We had planned to have a meal advertised as grandmas cooking but the restaurant was closed. Leaves covered the patio so it was obvious that grandma had not cooked there for some while. So it was Pizza again . This time we were entertained by an accordianist , two guitars and a saxophonist.



Who would have believed that we would stay on this site for two whole days. It wasnt us but somehow we actually enjoyed it much more than we expected .

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