• 733 km cycled (longest day 78 km, shortest day 37 km)
• 9 nights in campsites, 4 nights free camping, 1 nights in real beds (in a caravan!)
• 9 days we went swimming (all in the ocean except one fresh water swim at Krka Waterfalls)
• 6 pieces of Burek consumed
• 5 days we cycled in 30 degree plus temperatures
• 4 ferries caught with our bicycles
• 3 days we left the tent up – though we cycled 30 + km on two of those
• 28 words of Croatian learnt
• 0 punctured inner tubes (although we did help a stranded cyclist repair two punctures)

Justin will remember: sweating so much I thought I was going to drown on dry land and cycling through the barren landscape of Pag Island

Emma’s best lunch: buying fresh fish and filleting it at the waters edge in the pretty old pirate stronghold of Trogir. It may have been messy but it was damn tasty.

Breakfast

Cereal and two types of yoghurt, pastries including a jam doughnut and a chocolate filled pastry roll thing.

Lunch

Ham, tomato and mustard sandwiches.

Dinner

Ad hoc vegetable risotto prepared in a real kitchen and served on china plates.

We like camping in the wild, but we also like a good, small family run campsite and in Croatia we stumbled across five fantastic ones, easily spaced for a run of days of cycling south. Check out our route map for locations of the places below.

Kamp Zoma, Lukovo Sugarje

This campsite was built around a house in a tiny bay in one of the inlets of the Adriatic, the water sheltered by the island opposite. We camped on a grass terrace under fig trees, with glimpses of dark blue water against the stark rocky landscape of Pag island in the distance.

As dusk descended, the landscape took on the tints of early colour film, and I started dreaming of screenplays which could take advantage of the vivid backdrop – it could be the setting of a slow art house film. The night we stayed there was a camper who had stuck his German flag beside his tent in support of the world cup games, the marina had two tiny boats in it, and the site owner sat on a low stone wall keeping an eye on the holidaymakers. We jumped in the sea, were hypnotised by the stark landscape and took our cups of tea down to the marina as darkness fell, completely at peace.

(Freecamp interlude)

We cycled inland for a day before rejoining the coast, spending a night in a partly constructed ecotourism development near Medvida. We had asked the bemused owners after finding no suitable places to camp anywhere else. While it was slightly odd sleeping on the foundations of a holiday home, it was more so when the two established homes on the sight filled with paying guests just when we were sitting on the ground cooking dinner on our gas cooker.

Camp Skradin-Skorici

A campsite still in development, but the most hospitable camp owner we have met to date. Our arrival interupted dinner, and after showing us where we could put the tent (stony ground, in the front yard of the house but with rakes and hammers provided) we were asked how far we had cycled, then promptly invited for in for dinner, given two courses and wine while overlooking well tended vineyards at the back of the house. We shared the campsite with a German – Polish couple and a group of Belgium students on our first night. After a day of walking around the Krka waterfalls we returned to find the place to ourselves. A tiny, simple place but well placed for visiting Skradin (less than 2km away).

Camp Mini – Primosten

As we cycled down the coast from Sibenek to Split and saw the sign for this place, we had to check it out. A campsite for tents only and set out in a steep terrace below a jumble of stairways surrounding a few apartment buildings, the site was so special that we didn’t think twice about cycling around the coast to follow a stone path to the bottom of the campsite, then lugging our panniers and bicycles up a couple of flights of stairs to get to our terraced pitch. Imagine a campsite created by Esher with comic book style signs sprinkled liberally throughout it and you might be able to grasp some of the quirkiness of the place.

We had dinner on a terrace overlooking a tiny beach. The swimming spot was deep with a ladder to pull you out and there was a bar with an outstanding view of the setting sun. We only realised how lucky we were when we took a late night walk to the other end of Primosten, only to find a throng of people strolling among the usual hat/sunglass/shell stalls with a background of bad house music to complement their seaside resort experience. We ate icecreams, watched the end of a world cup game and swiftly retired to our quieter end of the beach.

(Split interlude)

If you can avoid it, we wouldn’t recommend Camping Stobrec-Split. Its 10 km out of Split itself, and when we were there it was full of large groups of teenagers imported from Belguim and France to smoke cigarettes and straighten their hair in the bathrooms. However we did meet Gerhard, a German cycle tourist travelling with a hammock who gave us invaluable information about routes into Bosnia and introduced us to a non-touristy restaurant in Stobrec.

Krvavic Autocamp

Before this campsite we’d diverted from the busy coast road to cycle up the Cetina gorge near Omis. Hard work but beautiful cycling, interrupted only by the occasional rafting van driving past.

We didn’t know that the campsite was brand new when we stood at the top of the turn off and debated investigating. We knew it would be at the bottom of the hill, and if it was expensive we would waste a valuable chunk of the evening cycling down there. After a kilometre steep downhill, we came across a man sitting at an outdoor desk, who gave us a reasonable price before showing us a pitch next to a raised terrace with umbrellas, tables and chairs. We walked down to the beach for a swim and cooked a civilised dinner, deciding to stay put for another day because it was so nice.

Just as we were about to eat, a familiar voice said hello – it was an Italian called Mario, who we had met with his family in Starigrad a few days earlier. We spent an enriching evening in their company and caught up with them again the next day swimming with them and their kids. The following evening we met a group of French students driving to Istanbul and talked with an Australian couple who had travelled by campervan through some countries we are considering cycling through.

Gradac Camp

We had one last night in Croatia before heading into Bosnia. The campsite wasn’t on the coast but up a huge hill, which broke our ‘never push bikes up huge hills in search of campsites rule’. Justin went on foot to investigate and came back with the cheapest camping price yet, but when I arrived at the top I was slightly dismayed. It was a tiny caravan park, with ten pitches and no obvious room for a tent. We waited for a staff member to attend to us next to two Bosnian men who had only an overnight bag with them, not sure what to expect. With their help we found out that the price of renting a caravan was the price quoted to Justin for the night, so my mood immediately picked up. Sure it was nowhere near the ocean and up one of the biggest hills we had seen since Italy, but we would be sleeping in our own private caravan! Later we discovered a fully working kitchen for guests use, including glasses, plates, cutlery and pots and pans. We slept very well indeed.

Arriving in Zadar at 7am we spontaneously decided to board a second ferry towards the island of Dugi Otok giving us a few hours to realise we spoke no Croatian and had yet to get a firm grip on the exchange rate. We purchased fresh fruit, local pastries called Burek and stared longingly at the overflowing fresh fish market. Around the market square locals intensely drank pre work kava (coffee) and strolled with purpose through the markets. The contrast to Italy was hard to put my finger on but it was as if everything was a bit more serious.

The ferry to Dugi Otok deposited us travel weary under a midday sun at the port town Brbinj where our plan was to cycle south towards Kornati National Park. As the intense heat took its toll on our tired bodies we stopped for lunch in a small patch of shade staring out across the stony sea drenched scenery and wondering what next. Emma had her first swim on the shore of Luka followed by an introduction to Croatian hospitality in the form of water refills and advice to get water from yacht berth taps we hadn’t noticed. Fed, watered and swum we continued to Sali where we had a grumble filled afternoon and evening as we tried to adjust to not knowing where was safe to camp, due to worries over language, local customs and landmines. Eventually we settled in an olive grove for the night only to be woken at 4am when the farmer arrived to start work before the heat of the day. The remainder of our day was filled with swimming in the Kornati salt lake while trying to avoid our lunch getting eaten by local donkeys and cycling back to Brbinj as the sun set watching ocean and mountain vistas unfold on either side of us.

Back in Zadar we arrived in the city campsite early giving us a full day of sightseeing around the old town. We visited a piece of local public art consisting of a sea powered organ and a sun powered LED light display called “Greeting to the Sun”. The organ reminded me of the sculpture we saw in San Sebastian with a groaning strangely melodious music that makes you think of drowned pirates playing piano accordion. After a quick dinner at the campsite we cycled back on sunset to watch the LED light display finding the sculpture filled with people. Children ran barefoot chasing the lights and each other while adults sat in haphazard groups watching their toes sparkle and twinkle. The sense of delight and participation in the artwork was tangible in the air and somewhere I hope the creator of this artwork is feeling quietly proud of producing something truly amazing.

Monday we cycled out of Zadar heading towards Pag Island again on a spontaneous decision we were cycling the length of the island where we would catch a short ferry back to the mainland making up a circular route. The cycling was hot and hilly as we left Zadar and crossing the southern bridge to Pag I felt transported to the moon with rocky barren landscapes around us seeming to float in gently rippling pools of cobalt ocean. Passing up a chance to stay at the Adriatic’s most beautiful campsite in favour of a farmer-agreed hilltop free camp, we spent the evening watching cars pull up and take photos of the sunset that we had as backdrop to our dinner. Our tent pitch on a bed of concrete required some creative pegging to our bikes due to the breezy conditions and credit to Emma for the perfect solution.

After a breakfast, espresso and 5000km photo in Novalja we continued East to the ferry back to the mainland. Stopping on a hill top to look around I saw a small scrawny sheep famous for making Pag cheese hunting for anything edible amongst the rocky ground. The contrast of the barren, heat soaked landscape to the rich colours of the Italian Piano Grande from just a few days earlier was intense and made it hard to believe that I had travelled to my current location by bicycle alone (oh yeah and a few ferries).