Big day on Big Hill

We climbed Big Hill. 

The people in Blato are nothing if not pragmatic. They looked at the biggest hill in town and said "we could spend a few weeks arguing over what to name it. Or we could call it Big Hill and have lunch."

Climbing the hill wasn't all that difficult. The good weather returned, and distance from ground to crest is probably only a couple of hundred meters. Of course factoring in winding roads and wrong turns and it's about 12.5 km. 

You wind your way past the houses, hit a wooded pathway beyond that, then continue to the top where, as with every other hill in Croatia, there's a church on the top. The date on the archway was hard to read, but I think it was built in the 18th century. 

I figure maybe 250 years ago the local priest probably had a chat with the town leaders and said, "I've been thinking. We've got a prime piece of real estate sitting there unused. It's the only hill on the island without a church on it.

"What I reckon we should do is get a whole bunch of impoverished peasants, who have spent all week slogging in their fields, to do more work. How about we get them to spend what little free time they have lugging rocks up the hill, to build a church that holds about eight people - standing - that we'll use twice a year for special occasions?"

"Yeah, sure," they said, "why not? Have some rakija."

Oy gevalt.

But lest you think I'm completely cynical about religion, not so. 

On the walk down from Big Hill I saw a crucifix with electrical lines draped across it, as seen in the pic to the right.

Which is proof that Jesus really does bring light to the world.

We had a look around, took some photos, checked out where the Germans put their guns on the hill during World War II. That pretty well exhausted the entertainment potential, so we headed back down.

In the afternoon we met more of Mario's relatives, Evitca and Mikice. I'm not clear on the relationship. Third great uncle twice removed or something. Which meant more food. Palacinke: basically crepes, and ridiculously yummy.

Evitca is extremely affectionate. She made us feel like family on the first meeting, with big hugs and kisses on the cheeks.

Her story is quite sad. She was one of six children, and her parents couldnt afford to keep her. They gave her away at age eleven, to a rich couple who couldn't have children, to work as their live in housekeeper.

There's a happy ending. The couple treated her more as a daughter than a housekeeper, and when they passed away they left her their house in Blato and their house in Prigradica.

After this we had a few hours sans food, before having dinner, this time at a different relative's house. This was Mario's cousin Mikice's place, not to be confused with third great uncle twice-removed Mikice's.

Most of the homes on Korcula have two kitchens, based on a logic I don't fully understand. This meal was in the separate kitchen under the house, with meat cooked on an open grill over wood-fired embers.

This is why I'm getting fat.

Everybody on the island starts work around 6.30-7.00, and we're still going at 10.30. Time to go.

As Mikice escorts us through the winding streets towards where the car is parked, Emma quips "he's not guiding us, he's making sure we leave."

He laughed, and said, "no, no,no!"

But I wonder...