Split

Not only were our rooms a matter of metres away but they were also ready early - after a night of no sleep on the train journey from hell we almost wept with joy.

Thirty minutes later we were on the beach blending in with the locals.

The Diocletian's Palace is amazing, so much history - if we hadn't been so exhausted from the train journey we would have done the tour, visited the museums, soaked up the culture - instead we had afternoon naps, had an average meal and went to bed early.

The next day, feeling altogether brighter, but with SAGA withdrawal we jumped on a bus with some oldies to visit the beautiful city of Trogir. Again a lot of history within those walls. We ate ice cream and dozed / read books under some trees.

Feeling fully refreshed and back in Split we headed out for pizza and then sat in the square watching the young and beautiful (and not so young or beautiful) salsa'ing whilst we drank Campari and critiqued their efforts Strictly style.

Night sleeper from Zagreb to Split

So my Cary Grant and Eve Marie Sant fantasy about overnight sleeper trains lies in tatters. I had imagined crisp white cotton sheets, turned down by a courteous attendant and sparkling conversation with exotic strangers in the cocktail lounge car.

10.55 pm Zagreb station - no sleeper car, no reservations, no crisp white cotton sheets; just two slightly surprised Canadian tourists and a uncommunicative Croatian man and a long night ahead in very upright seats in an overheated compartment.

03.00 - a railway yard somewhere in a Croatia, rudely awoken by the light being flicked on and the guard shouting 'bags bags get on bus' - that is I would have been rudely awoken if I had managed to actually sleep for more than 5 mins. Emerge from train to find fellow travellers clambering down from platform onto live tracks to reach the three buses. With suitcases, elderly people and a feeling of panic it resembles the early scenes from Tenko when the British colonists evacuate Singapore. Separated from luggage we manage to force our way onto a bus and set off on the next stage of this journey.

05.00 - somewhere in the Croatian countryside, police road block. The male occupants of two if the coaches (the third with Hywel's luggage is AWOL) line up to p*** in the bushes under the watchful eyes and guns of the cops before we embark on an off road safari along dirt tracks.

05.30 another train, another scramble across railway tracks with luggage - compartment lights go off and doors close as we approach - 'you can't come in here - it is reserved', we settle for the floor of the luggage van with the old and sick.

07.30 - arrive in Split to discover just how poor Lonely Planet maps are when trying to locate your hotel, we also note the lack of functionality of Google maps without a data roaming connection before finally admitting defeat and calling the hotel - the owner helpfully waves to us from the window immediately facing the cafe we are calling from. At this point we remember the Lonely Planet explaining that many streets have two names - helpfully the one on the reservation is not the one on the actual street sign....