Rain

All the wonderful weather I've been yabbering about? Gone.

The plan was to walk up Big Hill today, and Little Hill tomorrow. That was before eighty bazillion tonnes of water fell on Blato in a single morning.

Blato's storm water drainage is basically gravity sloping to where the lake used to be (it was drained early last century), which means a torrential downpour like this leaves ankle deep ponds in low points on the roads and footpaths. 

You'll never guess how I discovered they were ankle deep.

Plan B: sit in the coffee shop for an hour or two. 

Oh, we also did some banking, which in Blato is a nice leisurely activity that can fill up most of the morning before they tell you that you can't withdraw Croatian Kuna on an Australian EFTPOS card. Impossible. Can't be done.

Then we went outside to the ATM and did just that. There you go.

Eventually the rain stopped. Good thing, too.  Thirty-nine more days like this and I'd expect pairs of animals queuing up to get on a big wooden boat.

In the afternoon we went to Uncle Dick's place. Mario's Uncle Dick lived in Australia in the 70s and 80s, before moving back to Korcula, where he now lives with his son Milevoi, Milevoi's partner Mici, and their daughter Diana.

Like every lunch here it involved wine, unlike others it involved a coleslaw-like salad (the empty bowl is an indication of how popular that was), and a gnocchi that was just amazing (why that bowl isn't empty is mystery. I don't believe it stayed this full much longer).

Uncle Dick is a sweet old man. He spent time showing me photos from his youth and his time in Australia. He had a hard life, but a happy and fulfilling one. 

"Life goes fast. Pfffft!" he said. 

He's 92. A very bittersweet moment sharing an old man's memories.

Ach. 

I gave Emma's hand a big squeeze, because, you know... It was a reminder to appreciate every day. We only have a finite number of them.

I'm glad I'm spending some of mine here.