Waking early as we needed breakfast and supplies – mostly fresh bread as Fanny and Johnny in the kitchen had been running a conveyor belt of sandwiches out and empty plates back since day one and our provisions were running low (not to mention the Gin)
I headed out and found the great ice cream shop was also doing freshly baked Croatian Chocolate Croissants and armed with loaves of bread, from a supermarket with a girl asleep crouched down in between the aisles, I returned for breakfast, a shit and a shave in the toilet block and then we motored out until the wind hit us.
The sailing this day was possibly the best, there was a good wind and we were shifting nicely (even exceeding 10 knots) – with us all on one side at one point dangling our feet over the side. We saw a group of Spinnakers sailing and one passed as we took pictures of it and they posed proudly – only to have their sail collapse and chaos on the boat as they all tried to recover from their lapse of judgement. So the rest of the day was tacking up to our destination so we were all wide awake by the time we got there.
Primosten is a lovely spot – this is a round islet connected to the mainland, a safe harbour and lots of restaurants and bars along its beaches. It was famous for its vineyards, a photograph of which hung in the UN in New York. We lazy lined up and couldn’t resist the water – I swam over to the Irish Night Club across the bay and back again and appear on a number of tourist photos with my tilly hat.
We walked around the island up to the church watching yachts fight their way against the growing wind and roughening sea. Dined out in a great restaurant which tried to rip us off – they hadn’t counted on the analytical mind of Andy though – we ended up back at a shore bar where we watched the Chelsea-Barcelona game where Barcelona showed their skills and the referee showed his alliegance. Well oiled now we ended up back at a pretty Hungarian barmaids bar where we unwisely played drinking games with a set of Italian sailors – spinning around broomsticks and trying to find our grappa whilst spinning across the main square and various other fun and games led the Italians to scream ‘Please, No more Games!’ – the barmaid said she had never seen anything like it in Primosten. Fortunately the Irish Night Club was shut.
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