We touched down in Zagreb, Croatia on time. As Tim, Diarmuid and I exited the plane, the climate was noticeably the same as Ireland. The pilot had told us it was 28°C. Usually we would feel the warm air envelop us in a foreign country, but the heat had become Ireland’s norm.

Two weeks stretched out ahead of us. There would surely be rain by the time we got home. We picked up the rented car and got on the road to Rovinj, which is on the northern coastline of Istria. The Croatian countryside is quite green and afforested. Olives are a huge industry. Roads are good and, with good GPS, travelling is straightforward.

I love the sea and Tim loves to drive. Diarmuid was at the mercy of us both! We arrived to our little apartment that Tim had found on the internet. It was exactly as it said on the website.

ADVERTISEMENT

We had a walk of a little over a kilometre down into the port town. Croatia has embraced tourism ferociously and easily. The port is lined with waterside restaurants. There are plenty of opportunities for long walks.

The towns and villages of Croatia are exceptionally clean, and the people are friendly and most have English.

We had planned island visits, but instead we had a right good rest. The World Cup matches punctuated our days. We would make sure that we were in a restaurant with a screen for the night ones.

During the day, my two travelling partners might watch them in the apartment or in a pub on one of the little streets. I might swim in the sea. It was refreshing and warm, but the beaches in Croatia are of the stony kind. People wear the plastic shoes that are available in the shops. I might go for a walk, or read my book. By the end of the first week, I’d completed two books, which is most unlike me. I’m usually a two to three page a night person.

Hunt for an England jersey

Diarmuid is an avid England soccer fan. He has cousins in London – and that’s his main excuse. He loves Harry Kane! He wanted an England jersey to be a proper supporter. We walked the streets of Rovinj looking for any kind of an England jersey.

However, we quickly discovered that the Croatians do not like the English. Each time I asked, I was told a stern :“No!” One sports shop told me: “England does not give us a licence to make England jerseys.” So that was the end of that.

We bought him a white T shirt instead. We also picked up a Croatian jersey for €10 for him. He was not too happy. Yet, every time he had it on, he garnered welcoming attention in restaurants and pubs. He enjoyed that aspect of it.

Thunder storm

On our last evening in Croatia, we were seated at dinner in Da Piero, one of the water’s-edge restaurants under big umbrellas. There were Germans on one side of us and Norwegians on the other.

Each day, we’d had lovely weather. A shower fell most days to keep everything growing. We were watching the yachts coming into port. There were hundreds of them. The seagulls were noisy. Tim was pointing out to us that there was a storm coming.

Just above and behind his back; there was a joining in the umbrellas. He felt the first drop. The farmer took action. He moved our table about 12” inward, while pointing to the sky. The folks at each side frowned at us. We had put the whole line of tables out of kilter.

About five minutes later, the big drops started to sound on the canvas above. Following the farmer’s lead, all tables moved inward to join ours, and the gaps were closed in the other direction to bring people under cover. Suddenly, our neighbours were smiling and nodding in affirmation!

The boats bobbed furiously, the old shuttered buildings high up and jutting out to sea stood still, as they have for hundreds of years. The sea gulls fell silent in anticipation. The rain poured down. It pooled on the canvas and overflowed down behind Tim. Lightening flashed and thunder roared in the distance.

Yet, it was all over in 20 minutes. We headed home in our shorts and T-shirts, avoiding the pools of water. “The irony of it,” I thought, as Ireland’s farmland and reservoirs screamed for water.

Meanwhile, Colm sent a video of the dry and scorched fields at home. Managing the cows continues to be the priority. They are now eating three kilogrammes of palm kernel, six kilogrammes of soya hulls, four kilogrammes of grass – which is not regrowing – and four kilogrammes of silage. It is a strange year. CL