Fuck you Murphy and your unfair law!
Of course if you are going to get an upset stomach on any day in your 4 week holiday it’s going to be on the one day you are going on an hour boat ride, followed by a 4 – 5 hour bus ride with no toilets.
Fuck you Murphy – who were you anyway, and why did you create such a horrible law?
This morning I left the beautiful Hvar, something was wrong it wasn’t just the heartache I felt at leaving, there was an ache somewhere else in the pit of my tummy.
As my stomach started to rumble I thought back to last nights dinner, and wondered why I had a mussel risotto when the last time I ate mussels I was violently ill.
Yes this is holiday Lou (well Lou in general) act first, think later. When will I ever learn?
I jumped into the amazing water one last time thinking if anything will make me feel better that will, threw my wet bikini into my suitcase & jumped on a boat to Split (that’s the name of the place).
As the boat rocked from side to side and up and down I closed my eyes and was grateful for my yoga deep breathing techniques.
I opened my eyes and again cursed Murphy’s law then promptly shut them again.
Disembarking the boat was slow and hectic, little did I know that was nothing compared to what was to come.
As the tourists pile off the boat the scramble for the luggage begins, by then I couldn’t care where my luggage is, just get me off this fricken boat I scream inside my head.
We find our luggage my motions are intact 🙂 next challenge find a bus to take us to Dubrovnik.
We cross the road with 5000 other tourists and we push and we shove and we find a ticket place where we get served by an angry man who makes us miss two busses and puts us on the 1:30 one – no worries we only have one and a half days in Dubrovnik what’s the big deal if we spend another hour or so at some crappy bus place.
There are not many instances when I get angry; when I get frightened (like when my husband squealed like a girl and almost threw me out of bed the other night as his leg cramped and I got scared then angry) and when I am sick.
So when I had to pay to use the toilet, someone was in my way and the toilet paper had run out – I suddenly found myself swearing like a trooper.
Not my finest moment.
Finally time to board the bus, where the man taking our luggage demands more money when we ask why he grunts something in Croatian, I fight to keep my anger at bay while I sip on my lemonade telling myself I can survive this bus journey.
Ironically the same man now speaks English perfectly, but hey if these things didn’t happen what would I have to blog about.
So here I am 26 minutes into my journey, clogged up with tablets to hopefully last the journey, retreating to my happy place by thinking about how beautiful Hvar was, wondering if I should draw on my sleeping husbands face for amusement.
I am thinking that Murphy is an asshole, but this is traveling and this is what I love and I of course wouldn’t have it any other way.