Day 1 - I've been here before.
August 5 in Croatia ⋅ 🌙 27 °C
15:40
‘Here’ is Gatwick North. But ‘here’ is not the lounge we usually use at Gatwick North. We pitch up just past 15:00, and there’s a monstrous looking queue to get in there. A quick check, and it transpires our Priority Pass/Dragon Pass cards will get us in upstairs at a lounge we’ve not tried before. Never let it be said that the Irvines are not adventurous.
We’re off to Tisno, in northern Croatia - somewhere I’ve visited once before, and Vicki many more times than that. From late June to late August, Tisno hosts weekly music festivals, located a kilometre-ish outside of the town centre. On my first visit, I was initially suspicious that the townsfolk would resent the music revellers that litter (but not litter) their town for two months of the year. I couldn’t have been more wrong. They’re incredibly warm and welcoming, I suspect helped by these two months providing a big chunk of the tourism industry’s annual revenues. I think it also helps that the festival goers tend to be a respectful bunch, and that the music doesn’t massively travel away from the site.
The events hosted in Tisno are massively multicultural. We’re aware of party goers traveling from 6 continents to be there this week, and for all we know there might be a rando coming from Antarctica as well. The average age is ‘middle’ - we certainly won’t feel old compared to a good proportion of the crowd.
I’m super excited because the music policy for the weekend is RIGHT up my street. I listen to and DJ a style of house music called ‘progressive house.’ You couldn’t move for progressive nights in London around the turn of the century, but they’re a much rarer occurrence these days. This festival, called ‘Balance’ is a who’s who of great progressive house DJs. Many of them I’ve been to see in clubs in the UK since the late 90s. Many of them I’ve heard their work, and love it - and can’t wait to see them DJ live. Many of them, I’ve never heard of, but I suspect will still be awesome fun. 3 days of wall to wall raving in a beautiful setting with awesome people - it’s just possible it could finish me off…
We’re meeting some friends out in Tisno - Emma and Howard, & Matty and Lou. Collectively, I think we’ve known them 60 years or thereabouts. We’re all into the same kinda music, and hanging out in the same kinda way. Our week will be a very easy going one. We’re staying in different apartments around Tisno, but I’m sure we’ll meet for beers/dinners, and will deffo go to see many of the same DJs on the festival site.
Our 18:00 flight means a fairly late arrival into Split, and subsequently into Tisno tonight. Keep reminding myself not to go *too* hard on the vino…
23:00
Welcome to Croatia! Our flight was frustratingly delayed. The lateness I can live with - but it’s becoming increasingly common to board passengers even when there’s a known delay, and just leave the plane on the tarmac. The airline wins, because they can say they left on time. The airport wins, because it frees up a stand for another flight to use. The loser is the customer. We’re stuck on rapidly warming plane for around 50 minutes before we can start queueing for our takeoff slot. The pilot claims weather over Germany, and some air traffic control congestion. I doubt the former, but can believe the latter.
The flight itself is a cakewalk. There are plenty of passengers on our flight that I suspect are going to the same festival as us. There are some folks who perhaps had a bit too much Prosecco in the terminal’s Wetherspoons. There are, I regret to report dear reader, some people who start applauding when we land. We suspect not ironically. Transiting Split airport is fairly straightforward. There’s a tiny hiccup when the border control agent tells me that my EES record is suggesting that I’m still in Italy from my visit in March. I have a sneaking suspish that there are some gremlins in the EES system. Which is reassuring…
We find our taxi driver quickly enough, but not until after we’ve seen another taxi holding a sign for Rebecca, a friend of ours that we knew was heading to Tisno for this weekend, but who we hadn’t realised was on the same flight as us. We’ll catch up with her soon…
Onwards, to Tisno!Read more
Day 2 - A discovery of ouch.
August 6 in Croatia ⋅ ☀️ 31 °C
07:50
Regular readers of this blog will recall that my body is riddled with arthritis. Medical professionals have, in the past, used the phrase, “joints of a 70 year old,” and that was 10 years ago. For the last 4 years, I’ve taken an utterly transformative medication called Humira - which has largely confined the arthritic flare ups to the past. Occasionally though, just occasionally, I still experience them. Bugger me sideways if today isn’t one of them. I woke during the night at around 04:00, and hobbled to the toilet for a pee. Very difficult to put weight on my left foot, which is experiencing severe pain due to something called Cuboid Syndrome. It will pass, for sure - but the question is how quickly. This could well scupper my / our plans for today and tonight. Fucksticks.
17:20
Today has been a success. After a late arrival, we were never planning to do too much, and we’ve achieved that goal in fairly spectacular fashion. We mooch for a couple of hours in the apartment, before heading out to do some urgent grocery shopping. There’s a much bigger supermarket on the way to Betina, which is on Murter island, across the water from us. We’ll maybe head over there at some point, but the small supermarket near the bridge will do us for today’s requirements. We seek only the traditional elements of a festival shopping list - bread, cheese, salami, water, beer, wine, crisps and toilet roll. We’ll head back there in a couple of days to restock, and the shopping list will be at least 95% the same.
Our place has beautiful views across the water. We have such wonderful views because our apartment is up quite a steep hill. Walking down it to the town centre was one thing. Walking back up it laden with festival supplies is quite another.
Back at the apartment, we congratulate ourselves on a job well done with a beer, followed by another. After my less than great sleep, I’m dozy, so put my head down for a spectacular hour’s nap. By the time I wake up, it’s almost time to head out again. We’re into a good rhythm.
We’ve eaten only snacks since we left the house yesterday, and are ready for a feed. As we walk out of our apartment, we’re met by a wall of dry heat. The temperature's up in the mid to late 30s all week, so we need to get used to it. We head back down the still startlingly steep hill to Gina’s, a konoba (traditional tavern) on the waterfront that Vicki has visited on several occasions. A glass of Malvacija for me, and we both have a bowl of spaghetti alla vongole. At its closest, Croatia is all of 5 miles from the Italian border, and it’s self-evident from some of the shared styles of cuisine. The pasta is just what we need - tasty ballast. The wine is lovely. I remember trying a few local wines when we visited 11 years ago, but I was much more of a beer drinker back then. I’ll try more of the indigenous wines while I’m here this time.
Wandering towards the supermarket, we bump into Emma and Howard. A sprawling metropolis, Tisno is not. It transpires their apartment is two doors down from us on the high road. We’re all planning to head up to the site in a couple of hours, so we head back towards the instant coolness of our apartments. I decide a pool dip is in order. Few of the apartment complexes here have a pool attached, but Vicki and I fancied having the option. The pool’s lovely. Cool, but not cold. Refreshing, but not distressing. I air-dry in the shade, and my temperature falls quickly…
23:50
Our first foray up to the festival site. Vicki and I take the train - it’s a little diesel engined half car/half train affair. It’s been a fixture of festivals at the Garden Resort in Tisno for decades. The driver tells us that it’s almost died a death recently. He alleges that younger festival goers don’t care about fun, they only care about how they look. As a result, they prefer Uber to an open sided train type experience. More fool them IMO.
Walking into the site brings back floods of memories - some of them razor sharp, some of them less than crystal clear. We head down to the Beach Stage, and it is HEAVING. Way too busy for our tastes. Happily, the sound system is amazing, and we settle down 30m up the beach. It is HOT. Around 36-37C today, and even at 20:00 it feels every degree of it. We’re quickly covered in a glossy sheen of sweat. The music is amazing though, so we block out thoughts of dehydration.
Around 21:00, some friends start to appear. It’s such a cool place to hang out - there’s honestly nowhere like it I can imagine. There are shades of late ‘90s Ibiza, but even that isn’t quite right.
My foot is still giving me moderate to rough vibes, so I unilaterally but sensibly decide to give the all-nighter at Barbarella’s a miss. Around 23:45, the rest of the gang join a queue for a shuttle bus up to the club, while I do my damnedest to wait for the same train service back to Tisno. After 10 minutes, it’s clear it’s not gonna help me out, so I jump in an Uber. I feel slightly ashamed, but pat myself on the back. Confused? Yeah - me too.Read more
Day 3 - A bit of a write-off
August 7 in Croatia ⋅ ☀️ 32 °C
23:00
A frustrating day. I sleep fairly well, and wake up around 10:00. Vicks is gently purring next to me, so she definitely made it home in one piece.
My foot is still hurting, but not as bad as yesterday = good news. My stomach is modestly unsettled = less than awesome.
Vicki surfaces a shade before 14:00. E+H, M+L are heading out for some lunch, but Vicks and I elect to spend a chilled afternoon at our apartment.
Our plan is to head up to the site around 19:00 to see a DJ called Miss Melera. As the afternoon wears on, it becomes fairly apparent that my unsettled stomach is worsening. This is a relatively new phenomenon that I’ve been experiencing since my gallbladder was removed in April, and has displaced the hangover as the most common after effect of a night of largesse. I make the sad but probably sensible decision to forego the festival today, to remain within close proximity of the bathroom.
Vicki heads up a little after 19:00, and keeps me briefed with updates and photos. Looks a LOT of fun… I watch a few movies. Dinner is a cheese and salami sandwich. As the evening wears on, I can feel the pain in my foot returning. Merde.Read more
Day 4 - Trending Upwards
August 8 in Croatia ⋅ 🌙 28 °C
Day 4 - Trending Upwards
23:30
Let’s get the headline out of the way early on. It’s another day of enforced rest - but, BUT… Things are definitely improving.
The pain when I wake up around 10:00 is not good, and I quickly determine I need to take it easy today. Vicki got back around 03:30, and sleeps till a little after midday. We mooch at the apartment for a couple of hours, before heading over to Konoba Broscica for a late lunch with the collective.
I have an ultra traditional Croatian dish - black cuttlefish risotto, and it is excellent. The ink of the cuttlefish is used to finish the risotto, and gives an ozone saltiness to the dish. The cuttlefish is cubed before being braised, and is super tender. Washed down with a couple of glasses of Malvazija. Top nosh.
I think everyone’s a little underpowered today. Plans are made to head up to the festival site around 21:00. I ratify my decision to forego, and curl up on the sofa with my book. It’s not the day I’d planned, but it’s easy to remind myself that I’m in a beautiful part of the world hanging out with dear friends and my ultra-awesome wife. Life could definitely be a lot worse…
As the evening stretches on, my left foot starts to feel a little better. When I get up to grab a drink or use the bathroom, I’m hobbling less and less, and the persistent banging pain is subsiding. I end the day trending upwards, the first time I can say that in a few days.Read more
Day 5 - Tonight, we ride.
August 9 in Croatia ⋅ 🌙 29 °C
17:00
The pain in my foot has continued to subside overnight. At one point during the night, I pad out of the bedroom to go for a pee, and find Vicki on the sofa, munching on a slice of cheese. I’m confused, to say the least.
I sleep till nearly 10:00, and fell well rested. I wouldn’t say I’m ready for a hop-scotch competition, but my foot is definitely up to some more activity later.
Vicki wakes around midday. She was out till nearly 04:00 last night, so deserved the lie-in. Sounds like it was a very fun night on-site, and my FOMO nearly explodes. I explain my current situation to her, and she encourages, nay - demands that I get bang on it. I never wish to disappoint my beloved wife, so quickly acquiesce. I didn’t even open the wine in the fridge last night, so it’s readily available to me for a pre-prandial snifter.
We head back to Broscica for some lunch, and meet Emma+Howard and Matty. Feels a touch less roasty today. There’s a lovely breeze coming in from the West which makes things feel that much more manageable. Out and about, my foot is holding up well. It’s not delighted with the hill, or the walking. I’m still limpy as fuck - but it just doesn’t hurt nearly as much.
Lunch is great. I have a mixed BBQ meat dish, with skewers of chicken and lamb (think Souvlaki, and you’re nearly there), some grilled pork, and a smoked sausage affair that’s very tasty. Couple of glasses of Malvazija to wash it down, and I feel like all’s well with the world.
The others are all on a boat party at 18:00, but I’m keeping my powder dry till a little later. Back at the apartment, I carry on with the bottle of very tasty Croatian Traminec, read my book, and relax into the day…
23:00
I head up to the festival site around 20:30. It’s a little strange walking in on my own. I grab a beer, and settle in at the Yard stage. A guy called Alex O’Rion is playing. I’ve got a bunch of his productions in my music collection, and the stuff he’s playing is very much my bag. My foot is still not 100%, so I’m bouncing around from a seated position for much of the time.
The boat arrives back at 22:00, and I head down to the pier to meet my intrepid travellers. Sounds like they’ve had a great time. We head up to a stage called the Olive Grove for a bit, then down to the Beach. It’s not as viciously hot as previous days, for which I’m grateful. Looking around, listening in to snippets of conversation, this might just be the coolest place on the planet to be right now.Read more
Day 6 - Actions have consequences.
August 11 in Croatia ⋅ ☀️ 34 °C
14:00
I couldn’t 100% tell you what time we got home last night / this morning. We saw two of my DJ heroes - Anthony Pappa and Dave Seaman at the Yard stage until around 03:00. Utterly spell-binding. I spent a fair chunk of my time there chatting to a woman called Sam, who had inadvertently broken her arm in 4 places earlier during her trip. I did, of course, unravel the joke about which 4 places etc etc. She’s from Colorado, and a public school teacher. I asked if her students knew she was also a raver, and she said yes - they do. She’s managed to indoctrinate a few of them over the years… That probably has her listed as a communist in the US.
When Pappa and Dave finish up at 03:00, we head down to the Beach stage for a bit. Honestly, we’re probably just about out of energy. 7-8 hours of partying is a pretty long stint. We jump in a cab and head back to Tisno. Bizarrely, and despite having the correct address, our cab driver drops us a few minutes walk from our apartment. It’s a little confusing at first, but we soldier on, and make it home in one piece.
I wake up around 12:30, wearing all of my clothes, and also my glasses - which is new. Vicki is asleep on the sofa in the living room. Today is going to be a marathon, not a sprint.
22:30
We initially make some plans to head out and meet Team Tisno for a slap-up fish supper. Somewhere around mid-afternoon, Vicks and I both separately but simultaneously feel a little less than super-shiny. As a result, we elect to forego anything as complicated or taxing as showering, or actually going out anywhere. We have bread rolls, cheese and salami - and decide that this will suffice for the day.
Around 22:00, we head for bed, and the promise of many, MANY sleeps. No photos to speak of today, so here's a pic of our beloved cats.Read more
Day 7 - A much needed deceleration
August 11 in Croatia ⋅ ☀️ 32 °C
12:00
The vaunted many sleeps do not arrive. My fitness tracker ring has given me a score of 22. Out of 100. Reckons I was awake much of the night, and slept perhaps 2 hours in total. I think that’s a little low, but not by much. We’ve fortunately not got anything much planned today, so can have the laziest of days.
17:00
Around 14:00, we’re sufficiently energised to head out for some lunch. We target an Italian place on the island side of Tisno. It is HOT today. The mercury says 35C, but the heat index says 41. Our lunch spot has an upstairs terrace area - covered, but open to the breeze, and it’s very welcome. We’re seated above the harbour area in Tisno, and watch lazily as countless small boats and jet-skis pass us.
We share a tuna carpaccio which is delicious. Super simple, super elegant, super tasty. I have a very traditional Dalmatian octopus salad for a main, and Vicki has a more than passable pizza. Glass of Grasevina to wash it down, and all is well in the world of Irvines.
The walk back up to our apartment in this heat nearly finishes us off. We’ve already agreed to come back to Balance next year, and have started discussing accommodation options while we’re here. We both feels like the apartment we’ve had this time is a little overpriced. Vicki has designs on heading back to an apartment she’s stayed in before, which is much closer to the town. It is also, critically, not at the top of a mountain.
We make plans to meet our gang for dinner later, and spend a lazy afternoon relaxing.
22:30
Dinner was a TREAT. Prova is comfortably the best (and most expensive) of the Konobas in Tisno. They are renowned for their fresh fish, and we immerse ourselves in a treat of piscine proportions. Vicki and I share a fish paté to start, followed by a monster seafood platter - tiger prawns, squid, seabass, tuna and possibly the best octopus I’ve ever had. When it’s cooked correctly, Octopus is just about my favourite seafood. The texture and flavour is, for me, better than lobster.
All of the food that arrives at our table looks tremendous. A bit of a blow-out, but a much deserved and worthwhile one. There are brief discussions of a post-prandial sharpener, but the astonishing amount of protein I’ve just consumed requires me to be in a horizontal position ASAP. I’m also conscious that my terrible sleep last night means my batteries are going to need recharging in the immediate future. We attack the hill one last time, and cocoon in the safety of our air-conditioned apartment.Read more
