Party Poopers in Paradise

Party Poopers in Paradise - Day 129 Saturday June 22

It is Sunday morning – we are not long up. Jo just said “I haven’t felt this rough in ages”

 

Jo and I are agreed.  This is the very best camp site we have been to - Camp Ponta - Orebic.  We are perched magically above an emerald and turquoise Adriatic. 

The seas’s calming susurration merges with the gentle sound of children playing in our nearby swimming pool or crying out with glee from jumping off the rocky shore below.We have space and quiet and a light sea breeze.  We can descend in a minute or two to an attractive, beach side bar 

with excellent swimming and snorkelling. 

We have olive trees for shade on our pitch and bougainvillea for colour.  

And fresh running water, electricity and level gravelled ground.  There is a nice toilet block and washing machines a few steps away and friendly and helpful campsite staff. Damir has committed to Taran’s coin collection and returns regularly with new additions.  He is a retired soldier.  The small port of Orebic is twenty minutes cycle ride away.  It has a frequent ferry to fortified Korcula town on the eponymous Island just across the way, a pretty seafront and the best beach on the whole of the Peljesac Peninsula.  The Peljesac is known for its coast, its wine and its hiking.

We arrived late on Thursday so on Friday we spent the day schooling*, swimming, snorkelling and settling in.  We started the evening at the beach bar and then returned to WOW to cook artichokes and a delicious pasta with Radicchio and capers and lemon.  And a bottle of Peljesac’s fine and earthy red.

We sat up late playing Vingt et Un.  Jo won in an exciting game of ebbs and flows but I drank more wine and Taran was the chirpiest.

So I woke up the next morning (Saturday) with a hangover!  I hated to admit it but as the day wore on and my temper wore out it became clear to me.  Jo did not sleep well.  Schoolwork (with Joe and Marilyn by special request*) and lounging took a longer than usual portion of the morning.  Taran was restless.  We were all hot.  We must play catch in the pool.  Jo was very tardy to arrive “I’ll be there in a minute” and by the time she got there a bunch of sour faced slavs had taken partial occupation.

So we went on a bicycle expedition to Orebic.  We had Borek (savory stuffed pastries) and ice cream for lunch.  But it was too hot to stay still so we caught the foot ferry to Korcula as much for the breeze as anything else.  I was quiet, seeking my own ill tempered company, Taran engrossed in a fruitless search for the elusive 25 Kuna coin (asking every shop keeper, every restaurateur) and Jo hot, tired and long suffering.  But Jo saved the mood, instigating a swim from town beach and finally persuading me in to my instant delight.  Taran hot from a beach basketball game with strangers practically sizzled as he hit the water. We stayed in for a long while, admiring but not quite daring to join the local boys competing to jump from the concrete quay and capture a plastic bottle top.  “Good game” we agreed. 

It was always going to be a hot and long journey home through the early evening across the sea and then the baking asphalt, past the supermarket, up the hill.  We stopped to buy supper and gather ourselves for the climb.  And went for a swim.  Then we boiled potato and beetroots, chopped coleslaw, sliced tomatoes and basil, squeezed lemons and spooned yoghurt and olive oil and mayonnaise.  A sprinkle of this a pinch of that – it was a salad team effort.  

Jo and Taran did the dishes (hooray) and I crawled into the upstairs bed.  Exhausted but able from the horizontal to read “Auggie and Me” out aloud for an hour while below Jo lovingly teased the tangles from the mat that is Taran’s hair.  We all fell asleep grateful.

And at 1am we all woke up.  “How come we all need a pee at the same time” Taran asked as we decant the van together.  But despite our all taking the opportunity for a trip to the loo it is no coincidence. It is not our bladders but a very good party somewhere nearby that has woken us. The persistent banging ecstatic music and accompanying whelps of joy and excitement keep Jo and I awake for the next three hours. We compare notes in the morning and discover we have both separately travelled the well worn nocturnal journey of those Party Poopers kept awake by the fun of others. 

1)      Surely I can get to sleep – it is not that noisy.

2)      It cant go on much longer – look at the time.

3)      I don’t want to stop their fun – they are having a good time and so what if I miss a little sleep.

4)      Can I be bothered to get out of bed and see if I can do anything about it.

5)      OK – now I’m out here where is it? 

6)      Oh crikey its far away and I’m in my underwear. (wandering around a silent neighbourhood lit with music from a still unascertained source)

7)      Is there anyone official about?

8)      Right I’m calling the police.

9)      “Hello, is that the police?”

Jo stopped short of actually calling the police but I did.  And although we could not understand each other at all I think maybe they turned up.  In which case I pooped the party.  Anyway the music mostly stopped at 4 am – which is just about, Jo tells me this morning, when she went to sleep.  Funny that both wanting to not disturb Taran and in bed on different levels we were unaware the other was awake and fretting.  But then there was a lot of background music.

So there you go that is why Jo feels rough (and me too).  But I feel better now I have had breakfast and written this. And there is a lovely fresh breeze picking up.

*About a week ago Taran asked me what double entry book-keeping meant. It is a concept I have never cleanly grasped so I took this opportunity for both of us and found the website https://www.accountingcoach.com . Every other day we now spend a half hour or so after breakfast working through their “Accounting Basics”.  We have met the pragmatic and unschooled Joe who has bravely borrowed $20000 to start up his own delivery company (“Direct Delivery”) and Marilyn his friendly and prudent accountant who is instructing Joe on how to set up and run his company’s finances.  In their presence we are next to look at Stockholders Equity which we have reached by way of: Introduction to Accounting Basics, Income Statements, Balance Sheet – Assets, Balance Sheet – Liabilities and such terms as “accrual basis” and “unexpired portion of prepaid expenses”.  It is riveting stuff.  Taran, travelling in Joe’s (and possibly his father’s) entrepreneurial footsteps yet taking inspiration from his own recent travel is keen now to start his own business; possibly a  restaurant (Cambodian?), a tram line (Sarajevo) or a theatrical ice cream stall (Istanbul) .