The long commute

The major downside to living in Brighton is days like today, in order to get to Manchester for 9.30am I have to set my alarm for 4.30am and catch the 5.23am, then lots of waiting around because the trains are less frequent.

To get through the Brighton - Victoria leg, I upgrade to a large skinny latte, for the Euston - Manchester leg, another skinny latte, on arrival at Piccadilly - another skinny latte, then finally for the journey home a skinny latte.

Far too much caffeine.

Far too much milk.

Zagreb, fish and Nirvana

With a couple of hours to kill until our room was ready we headed out into Zagreb to explore, armed with the Lonely Planet and a keen sense of direction.

After a restorative CocaCola Zero and coffee overlooking the Market we sought out Amfora - a recommended restaurant - pushing our way through the chain smoking market traders drinking beer at the entrance we entered the bar that smelled like a fish mongers and were ushered upstairs. We looked around for menus but instead were presented with a platter of raw fish - all still with faces!

Through the medium of mime and pigeon English we managed to order fish soup and giant whitebait (for Hywel) and fish risotto (for Sarah and I). I commented on how unexpected it was that this hole in the wall was playing such great music - Nirvana followed by Garbage, then Dusty Springfield launched into Son of a Preacher Man, at this point I realised the iPhone in my pocket was in iPod mode and playing a Genius playlist...

The food arrived - the risotto was a bit tasteless, but this was more than compensated for by the half a kilo of salt that had been added to the giant bowl of tomatoes that accompanied it. The whitebait was more successful.

Dinner at Agava was altogether more successful - Dalmatian ham, Pag cheese, truffle sauce and Dalmatian stuffed beef!

The following day we hit Zagreb hard - culture in the morning at the modern art museum, a picnic in the botanical gardens (procured from Croatia's grumpiest market traders), afternoon nap in the park and a trip to the cinema in the evening before heading to the station for our night of luxury aboard the night sleeper to Split....

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.

Express train to Zagreb - and a whole new country

Arriving early at Ljubljana station meant plenty of time to stock up on snacks. A slice of ajobolci zavitek (apple strudel), a large chocolate truffle that I hadn't meant to point at but it seemed rude to ask her to put back, a large fig slice and an enormous kremna rezina - a sort of vanilla slice with whipped cream about 4 inches square by 3 inches high - plus the obligatory bottles of water.

Boarding the Austrian train we found a small lady (Austrian? Slovenian? Croatian?) who spoke no English occupying all three of our reserved seats with her extensive selection of luggage. After many hilarious hand gestures we persuaded her to relocate to another section. 

At the Slovenian / Croatian border we were excited to be offered two passport stamps - one from a jolly Slovenian border guard and the other from a less jolly Croatian lady. A shifty looking man in a hoodie was less lucky and was escorted from the train after extensive radio action by the guard.

The remainder of the journey was to the soundtrack of Katy Perry - played at a level just above annoying by the girls (and their mum) in the next section.

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....

SAGA Saga

'Are we the youngest people on this flight?' I thought as we waited to board the tiny Adrea plane to Ljubljana - a plane so small it was dwarfed by the superfluous air bridge; so small that you had to lean your head to one side to stand up in the toilet; so small that I banged my head on the overhead bin; so small.. you get the picture.

Securing a taxi at the equally pocket sized airport on arrival was easy and we were soon cruising by Lidl, Aldi, Coca Cola ads, McDonalds and other exotic local brands - travel certainly broadens the mind.

Ljubljana's riverside bars thronged with oldies as we pushed away through to Macek Rooms - our base for the next few days. The apartment (on the third floor - no lift) was massive and very convenient for Ljubljana's most lively bar downstairs. This was particularly evident at midnight....

The next day arising bright and very early to the sound of workmen in the adjacent hotel angle-grinding we decided to take a bus to Lake Bled to the sound track of Slovenia's answer to Smooth FM (all 80s, all of the time). More oldies everywhere we looked, we headed off around the lake for a brisk 6km walk. 2km in we stopped for a CocaCola Zero and a plate of chips (for Sarah) before climbing into a rowing boat for a short trip that will be carved on my memory forever. Sat at the prow I was literally inches above the water's surface - closer still when the boat tipped alarmingly.

Back on dry land we continued our circular tour with no further incidents.

Back in Ljubljana and venturing out in the evening prompted two new drink discoveries - Aperol, a sort of low alcohol Campari served as a spritzer, and Union Radler, a grapefruit* and lager shandy mix - also low alcohol (*other fruit flavours available). A clear head needed for the early morning train to Zagreb.

On the home straight - Miami to Orlando to Gatwick

Paranoid about missing the train I woke super early on Saturday, too early for breakfast or coffee at the hotel, and headed to the Amtrak station by taxi.

Slightly intimidating station in the middle of an industrial park with no breakfast or coffee facilities. Now in desperate need of caffeine!

Train left on time at 08.20 - same funny system of allocating seats at the door, but this time I bagged a window. The cafe didn't open till 09.30 - so really desperate by then! My healthy eating plans were cast aside as I devoured a sausage, egg and cheese muffin, a coffee and an apple juice.

My seat buddy was not so chatty so I powered through a book on the kindle. Arrival into Orlando was a bit late and it took ages to unload the luggage so I headed straight to the airport to check in with six hours of lay-over stretching ahead of me.

Orlando airport has more shops than most American airports, but that isn't saying much - T5 it ain't! It does have two Disney shops, two NASA shops, two Universal Studios shops, one Sea World shop and a couple of unidentifiable themed shops, a Brookstone, several newsagents and a food court - oh and a Starbucks. So that was the first half hour filled...

Amazingly the flight left on time and after watching the first film (Crazy, Stupid Love with Steve Carroll, Julianne Moore and Ryan Gosling) I felt my eyes closing. This never happens on flights, I must have driven myself to tiredness through sheer boredom. The next thing I recall is being woken for the breakfast service one hour before landing an hour early. Fast through Border Control and home by 09.00 - end of a great holiday!