How not to go to Zadar

I had heard His Lordship talking about getting one of these last year, but I just put it down to more of his usual ravings. He was even talking about getting an inflatable one for goodness sake! Thankfully, Her Ladyship discovered that inflatable versions can cost around € 700 a pop. I thought that would put paid to this crazy notion, but he was not to be deterred. He searched and searched and, sure enough, he managed to find one just before we left for this year’s trip in the caravan.  A chandelier for the tent!

I could die with the embarrassment!

Then again, I shouldn’t complain too much. Look what else the Oldies did to the caravan:

Welcome to the Seamusmobile!

We’ve started our summer road trip in Istria again and, after checking that the sea was still there (it was!), the Oldies spent a few days getting the caravan ready. You know, the essential maintenance work – filling up the fridge, vacuuming the shelves, polishing the tent poles, adjusting the tassels on the chandelier. The usual stuff.

Let the adventure begin! We‘re leaving for Zadar on Sunday.

No, we’re not. For once, His Lordship is organised and has actually looked at a weather forecast. Apparently heavy rain and high winds are forecast for Sunday, so the Oldies postpone our departure. A couple of days later, the caravan is hitched up and we’re finally off.

Before we even reach Rijeka there’s the first bad omen. As His Lordship tries to hand his ticket to the cashier at the toll booth at the Učka tunnel, it is ripped out of his hand by the high winds and flies off down the road in front of us. Her Ladyship hops out of the car and deftly retrieves the ticket before it is blown under the wheels of an oncoming 40 ton truck. ‘I could have died’ she says indignantly as she hands him back the ticket. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be windy today!’ he wails. Well, now we know. It’s all the weatherman’s fault.

Later, as we approach the start of the Zagreb/Split motorway, Her Ladyship thinks she has seen a sign indicating that the motorway is closed to all traffic except cars. But His Lordship ploughs on. Sure, he can always ask what’s going on at the toll booth. Naturally the booth is unmanned, so there’s nobody lhe can talk to. Funny he didn’t think of asking any of the drivers of the 27 cars queuing up impatiently behind us.

He takes a ticket, executes an illegal and death defying U-turn immediately after the booth and returns the ticket to the bewildered attendant at the exit. Price for 30 seconds on the motorway: 0.00 Kuna. Recovering over a coffee in a service station sometime later, the Dynamic Duo learn that, due to the high winds, the motorway is indeed only open to cars. Eejits like us with caravans may join the vans and trucks on the alternative route. This turns out to be a steep and tortuous road across the mountains. Great! As we climb higher and higher, the temperature drops steadily. And then the rain starts. Which turns into sleet. Which turns into snow. Perhaps His Lordship shouldn’t have taken the winter tyres off the car after all.

We slowly start to descend and the snowstorm eases, but it is quite a while before we can join the motorway again. At last, we are back on the road to Zadar! And what do Oldies do? Stop off for a break at the first motorway station we come to. We’ll never get there at this rate!

In the motorway station Her Ladyship insists they give the massage chairs a try. ‘Ah, go on. Sure it’s only 5 Kuna for 5 minutes.’ I’d have paid a lot more than the equivalent of 75c not to have to watch Oldies fat bits wobbling around for a full 5 mins. Yuck! Whenever I attempt to avert my eyes, my gaze falls on the (almost) equally horrible sight of one of the stuffed bears, stags or wild boars that are dotted around the station. It’s a horror show, I’ll definitely have nightmares tonight!

Just when I breathe a sigh of relief at being back on the motorway again, another sign indicates that this motorway is also closed up ahead. The explanation – in incomprehensible Croatian – remains a mystery. High winds or snow perhaps. To be fair, I don’t think the Oldies ever thought of adding the word ‘snow’ to their Croatian vocabulary lists. We’re jinxed!

After making slow progress on the alternative route for quite a while, we finally come to the turn off for Zadar. Only to be turned away by a very apologetic Croatian policeman. The road to Zadar is closed! The Oldies don’t even bother to ask why.

We just keep going. And the going gets tough. Steep uphill gradients, hairpin bends, narrow villages, umpteen unmanned railway crossings, major roadworks, impatient trucks overtaking us at the most inopportune moments… We proceed at a snail’s pace.

What should have been a four hour journey has stretched into over seven hours. When Herself finally suggests that we overnight in the campsite we know in Šibenik, I feel like clapping my wings with joy. That’s the first good idea I’ve heard all day. Within half an hour of our arrival, the caravan has been unhitched and levelled and the ravenous Oldies have already ordered dinner in in the campsite restaurant.

The adventure has begun alright. I’m just not sure how much more adventure I can take!