The 24 hours of Cres

We continue southwards. 10,000 years ago, the island of Cres was still mainland. Then a little too much ice melted and Cres was in the sea. The last hostel manager said it wouldn’t be a good idea to cross over just by bike. He was right. Immediately after the ferry, I realised why. The only road goes from the sea practically vertically 500 metres uphill.

Sabine, who’s a fan of the study tour, really wants to see the lammergeiers of Cres. We stop at the vulture centre in Beli. A boring exhibition says a lot for the good cause. We see a poisoned lammergeier with brain damage in the enclosure. In real life and in the wild, they don’t exist. The local stone beach is only impressive because of the parking fees. We fly further south.

All the places on Cres are either ugly and empty or beautiful and expensive. The first planned overnight accommodation falls into the first category and therefore eats our dust. Our only goal from now on is to simply drive as far south as we can.

Between the islands of Cres and Losinj, ships used to be pulled over 100 metres of land on wooden rollers a long time ago. This saved the captains 80 kilometres of unpredictable winds and brought the town of Osor a whopping 30,000 tugs in the 14th century. Today we arrive. There is now a lock and therefore nothing more to tow.

A kiteboarder is travelling at a breathtaking 8 knots with a 17 Contra. Then the wind dies. I organise a boat and save the kite from a cruel death on the rocks. Meanwhile, Sabine languishes on the beach without a car, cigarettes or money. To thank me, she gives me a stinking stone with holes in it, which she disposes of herself a few kilometres later for olfactory reasons.

The southernmost point of our journey is Mali Losinj, a beautiful little town with narrow, steep streets in a bay by the sea. Finding a room is a bit of a hassle. Rich Italians mess up the local price structure. Just at the last attempt, a good Croatian is prepared to give us the executive room with a roof terrace and a view of the harbour for 40 euros.

A bombastic meal in a classy restaurant. We sit on the roof terrace, drink Georg’s wine and say goodbye to Croatia. It was nice, rocky, built-up, crowded, expensive and worth a short trip.