Eight years ago, Steve and I met through our friends Cheryl and Peter.  Within ten days of having our first date dinner, with an important second bottle of wine (Steve will explain), a picnic at Goodwood where I brought along a bottle of white wine keeping it chilled in bubble wrap (Steve was overwhelmed with my practicality), a weekend in Budapest and lots of chatting and we’ve been having a blast ever since.

Waking up, we wished each other happy anniversary, Steve put the bottle of Taittinger that we’d brought along for the occasion in the fridge and we decided to have our celebratory dinner at the Epetium Restaurant, which is around the corner in the bay.  The Epetium has come highly recommended not only by our campsite but also the No Stress Restaurant we visited a couple of times in Split during our first couple of weeks here. 

As for the weather shining on us, it’s no longer cold at night and we sleep with the sun roof open over our bed.  We wake up knowing the temperature is likely to be in the 20’s.  We usually have the caravan door open through the day, but now we have the awning open too.  I’m looking forward to not needing any of our warmer clothes in the evenings so I can pack jumpers and jackets away and make more room for our summer wear in our small shared and well organised wardrobe.  Luckily we are as tidy and organised as each other.

I wrote a note to Omis Boat George thanking him for the wine and chocolate and said we’d like to have a trip on his catamaran.  He wrote back late last night and I smiled as I read his reply this morning: 

“Hej…today i was in dubrovnik i bought car for work this summer…i make trip for island brac with fish picnic but i dont know how will  to be this summer…maybe with burger🤣🤣,good night…veri tired iam.” 

Obviously, I’ve written back saying if convenient to our travelling plans, we would love to join him. He’s responded there is a tour on the 15th with a football team aboard. We’re thinking about it!

We decided that today we would visit the last ‘must see’ on our list which is Sinj. 

Whilst we were getting ready I shot off an email to Andrea at Jadrolinija Ferries, asking if there was any way we could get to Bosnia or Montenegro by ferry.  I didn’t tell her Steve has only driven 8 miles so far since we arrived in Croatia (Split to the campsite) and we’re thinking of alternative ways for him not to have to drag our very large wobble box around whilst driving South with the coast and also sheer drops on his right. Andrea replied:

“Hope your journey from Ancona went well and you enjoy your stay in Croatia. However, it seems you have reach the point from which is not possible to get further to the Bosnia and Montenegro.  Unfortunately, the line that includes vehicles to the Dubrovnik has been stopped for 15 years or so , and for Montenegro we have from only from Bari-Italy but only in high sesaon. Although, I am very sorry, I don´t see other solution for you than to drive all the way, I am sure you´ll enjoy the “ride” by the coast. (she is obviously unaware of Steve’s fear of heights). My apologies for not being of much help to you this time. I hope this will not stop you from continuing to enjoy your vacation. My Best Regards ,at your disposal, Andrea Lozic, Jadrolinija Rijeka.

Whilst we were discussing the route to Montenegro, Andrea and Phil sent us this photo. They’ve told me they had an hour to pass through and only had to show their passports. That sound’s good and might work for us!

And Chris and Richard sent us this photo from where they are currently staying at Camp Lupis, which is situated at the other end of the Pelješac peninsula (west) to where we were last week in Ston (east). Apparently they’d been to a local restaurant which served delicious food and home brewed wine which is confirmed in their smiles.

I’ve stopped taking photos on car journeys for posts, as I don’t do any of the views any justice, you don’t get any awareness of the vibrant colours and on the blog they all look the same.  Thank you Cousin Martin for highlighting last comment 🙂 Additionally there is ‘Frenchy le Van’ on Facebook who are currently in Croatia posting unbelievable shots they take themselves. I’m convinced they are ardent fans of photo shop – https://www.facebook.com/FrenchyLeVan or it’s just that they are brilliant photographers. On our way we passed the supermarkets and four shopping malls (I’ve found another two), Roman Ruins which we have visited but I have yet to finish the post, wound up a mountain with views of Kliss and arrived at Sinj.

We expected to find a small traditional village at the top of a mountain with an old fortress to visit.  What we found was modern large central area totally devoted to Café Society (albeit slightly empty) and not a single bar that offered any food whatsoever. Neither was there a restaurant in the centre to grab a snack so we popped into a bakery, bit stodgy but filled a gap.  We walked past colourful posters of normal times advertising traditional costumed events, such as dances and jousting on horse back and felt a little sad.

Having stopped for a coffee and soft drinks, we followed the brown signs to the Fortress.  When I looked up I asked Steve if we were going back for the car to drive up or were we walking.  He replied ‘walking of course’, so on we plodded.  The paths were steep and mostly rubble.  We trod carefully with Stella off her lead.  Steve was wearing slip ons, not the most sensible of foot wear for the trek, but we’d thrown his only pair of trainers away as they had fallen apart, not only beyond repair but also beyond being safe to walk in. I should have taken a video of the tears.

Almost at the top we found the Stations of the Cross.  Don’t worry, there are fifteen, yes we did take photos of each one, but no we’re not posting them all.  Each station had a couple of benches for pilgramers to contemplate and rest.

We got to the top, where there is a little chapel, with the fortress in ruins, raised to the ground many years ago.  We enjoyed the views which we’ll share with you.

The trek down was worse than the one up because there was so much rubble which slipped underfoot no matter how careful we were. I stopped when I’d finished the descent outside the beginnings of the residential area waiting with Stella for Steve who was on his phone, following close behind. A man sitting in overalls on his house wall watching the world go by, until I arrived, rushed over to me saying he was getting water for Stella. When he returned with a filled dog bowl, Steve had arrived. Slavin, we’d by now introduced ourselves to each other, then insisted on inviting us into his home for a cold drink. As we looked at each other staying outside he speedily came out with a choice of soft drinks, glasses, and cushions for the wall where I was sitting. He wanted to get a beer for Steve, but Steve explained he was driving. More tears. He said if we waited for his father to get home we could join them for dinner. He told us about his family and we chatted about our wonderful adventures in his country.

On the way back we stopped at Decathlon, within the Mall of only one floor, to replace Steve’s trainers.  He was almost in tears at having to spend money on shoes.  We found the correct aisle and finding size 12’s was easy as there is never a choice if any for that size.  When he started looking at the prices, being the daughter of a shoe salesman and an expedient shopper, I told him to concentrate on comfort than style and price.  I put my foot down on this as it was like taking a small school child shopping against his will. 

Purchase made, once I had wrestled his wallet out of his pocket and credit card out of the wallet, we returned home to get ready to go out for dinner.  On the way back Steve asked me what I wanted to do.  I replied before going out, I wanted to have a cup of tea, go through the things we’d bought through the day have a shower and get dressed.  He asked me if that would take long.  I gave him a look.

With the Epetium within walking distance at the end of the Bay, we excitedly set off.  We’d heard such good things about the restaurant we had saved it for our special celebration.

Outside I took a photo, inside we were ignored by the sour puss behind the bar.  Not a good start.  We were eventually welcomed and shown to a table.  The restaurant is not on the beach, stunning inside and we walked through to the terrace as we have to eat outside.  The terrace was more like a conservatory with a sliding roof which was closed and sliding windows, some of which were open.  We were not going to be cold.   I took pictures of their fresh fish display and interior, but take a look at their photo gallery as their pictures are much better than mine – https://epetium.com/photo-gallery/.

Given the menu we needed lots of time as it resembled a 1980’s top Mayfair restaurant book.  We asked for half a dozen oysters, whilst we made up our minds what to have from the huge choice, especially when it all looked wonderful.  The restaurant was fairly full, mostly men and no-one dressed up, I expect they knew we were coming and didn’t want us to feel uncomfortable in our camping attire.  I thought from people watching, the men whose ages seem to range from young to middle aged wearing casual attire might own or work on yachts.  According to the waiter, they were all locals.

I told the waiter I’d like a small starter so I could get through the main course.  He recommended cream of shrimp soup which was served in a soup tureen.  Steve had sea food risotto with truffles.

Our main dishes were monkfish in white wine sauce, enough for four, for me and fried frogs legs for Steve.  Steve’s eyes lit up when his arrived in batter and pronounced “Yeay, Kentucky fried frogs”. Steve was still in Friday’s t shirt, but it didn’t accumulate any more food spillage as he had his new fleece on top, which was the new recipient of the new stain collection.

We missed out on dessert – no room left. I would love to say on this special occasion, it was the best restaurant meal and service surpassing everything so far, but unfortunately it wasn’t. We can deal with delays and shortage of staff, but not when the waiter spills my wine or tells us the oysters are from Ston, and now that we are oyster specialists we know that they were not because they were not flat.  I wish I’d taken a recording of Steve educating the waiter.

And the Taittinger? It’s still on ice.