Croatia: Clang and clatter

Mum’s trying to play it cool, banking on a mixture of traveler’s luck and British-grade politeness as we approach the world’s most dramatic border crossing. Dim and swollen are the skies looming above the crossing, positioned on a sharp cliff. Does Dracula vacation here?

Mum’s hands, which have clenched the steering wheel for hours now, tremor as she pulls up to the booth and hands our passports to the Bosnian border guard. He seems stern and fair, but as it’s up to him whether this questionable Slovak rental car makes it through, we are prepared to turn up the charm tenfold.

With a few disconcerting keyboard clicks and pauses, he lets us through.

But we’re on edge (literally) for hours after crossing in and out of Bosnia. The journey to Dubrovnik promises mountainous coastal driving, ferocious storms fueled by “Bura winds” and narrow one-ways unrecognized by the GPS.

Mum and I nibble nervously on our respective chocolate squares. If we fall (quite literally), at least it will be while enjoying some Milka chocolate.

As you might have guessed, this week, I am driving this blog through Croatia, the resplendent country that made an outside-the-comfort-zone-living mother and trusting-yet-secretly-terrified daughter fret and gush. It was electrifying, it was awesome, and it is well-worth a visit, even when storms are brewing and bura winds are blowing. So, faithful readers, hop in the back of our trusty rental car, rub some distressing balm on your temples (we have plenty) and snack your troubles away.

First stop – Zadar!