I hope you all enjoyed the lucidity of my previous post. Because you're not getting it again...

Because my wine followed by beer has, as the saying goes, most definitely been followed by queer today, thanks to a 4am finish last night-this morning and an unexpected awakening at 9am, which was when I was told that I had to check out early. Ouch.

I've turned out to be the only English girl in my party of eleven. In fact, I've turned out to be the only non-Aussie in my party of eleven. Which is definitely proving entertaining. Mostly twenty and thirty-somethings, with a few fifty and sixty-somethings thrown in for good measure.

Yesterday involved an early morning trip around the city walls of the Old Town - early to beat the cruise ships queues - followed by a "Dubrovnik-style" pizza for lunch, which basically consisted of a very cheesy pizza topped with a fried egg. A heart attack on a plate. Perhaps that's what the Croatians are hoping for when it comes to entertaining the ubiquitous fat Americans.

A photo exhibition was the next port of call, including a video that recorded the shelling of this stunning beautiful city. None of your Hollywood hysteria here, no blood, no shrieks, no lost children crying, no panic.

Just a chilling playback of the dull thuds of not-so-distant explosions, as clouds of black smoke billow from the red roofs, boats in the harbour burst into flame and shells rain into the sea. Residents are all in hiding outside the city, or within the walls, praying that they and their loved ones are spared.

And then the aftermath. Collapsed hotels, smashed cars, massive chunks of concrete hewed out of walls, shell holes in windows and walls.  People wandering around, some picking up belongings, some taking photographs, some standing still, smoking cigarettes and staring in bewilderment at what was once theirs and whole.

A fascinating portrayal of a shell-shocked city, in the most literal sense of the word.

From there it was a wander around the narrow streets, and then to the harbour for the inevitable dip into the gorgeously clear, massively salty waters. Bliss.

At 4pm, those who dared met up to tackle the great hill that looms behind the city. A simple white cross marked our finishing point at the top, which took us just an hour to reach. The hot sun made it more of a trek, but it was relatively easy going, and well worth the effort for the view over the city and out across the huge ocean-filled horizon which stetched into eternity.

And...ah...I have to leave it there I'm afraid. Which is probably just as well, since the rest of the yesterday sinks into drunken debauchery, preceded by the biggest bowl of mussels I've ever seen. Divine.

And now I'm off to nurse my headache, browse the shops, go for a paddle and then catch the bus to the island of Korcula, which will be my temporary home for the next couple of nights. Look it up on t'internet, if you like. Or, more accurately, if you like feeling sick to your stomach, whilst sat in a boring office, at boring work, in a boring country, where it's not currently 27 degrees centigrade, and you're not about to have a generous scoop of divine chocolate ice-cream, for no other reason than because. You. Can.

Catch ys later...