Summer Wine

I’m nearing the last of the summer wine.

The weather is about to change and it will be autumn. The weather forecast last night showed that the whole of Croatia is heading for a storm. I woke to slab jugozapadanjak (weak jugo wind) as promised, with dark clouds gathering above Biokovo.

I raced out to the posta (with a ‘sh’) with a box of things that I need to send home – precious things like my tramping boots. Who knows, I may tramp in Auckland now that I have such flash boots.

That done, I sat in plava kava and read the newspaper, skipping through the many pages discussing the soccer games, reading about the population crisis facing Croatia. The weak wind was forcing its hand and becoming strong enough to deposit dust into our coffee cups. The forecast in Slobodan Dalmacija confirmed the change in weather – thunder, lightning, heavy rain.

I was engrossed in my reading when a friend stopped to chat – I told him that I love this warm wind and he gently admonished me, telling me that it is a dangerous wind – people have heart attacks in this wind, and suffer from migraines. I will have to watch myself.

Within five minutes of returning to the apartment there was a loud clap of thunder and the rain came down, retribution for the last two months of stifling heat and blue skies.

And justlikethat it has stopped, leaving a lovely warm wind (I’m aware of my heart beat). Dedicated Weather Watchers tell me that it will rain if there are ‘fluffy caterpillars’ clinging to the craggy peaks of Biokovo, and I can see them up there still.

The grapes are being picked for the new season’s wine and one of the cafes was pressing grapes the other day for the start of the wine making.

Over the next few weeks there will be family outings up the hills to pick the olives for the first pressing of oil. I hope someone will adopt me for the day so that I can be part of it – I’ve got so many things I want to do and see yet!

Ambling along the pine forest track from the beach yesterday (grabbing the last of the summer rays) I heard the distinctive sound of New Zealand accents – two compatriots from Nelson, loving Nugal Beach, the temperature and the hospitality of the country - another immigrant’s daughter wanting to see where her family comes from. We walked back together and sat in a café, comparing notes and experiences.

I have to say that New Zealanders are an intrepid lot. Like me, this guy was drawn towards Biokovo, and so this morning he had started out at 5 to climb up to Vosac – by himself. He obviously didn’t know about how Dangerous it could be, and no Drago to show him the error of his ways - he had no phone, shorts (!), unaware of snakes etc, but did have food and water - he just did it – because that’s what we do. There were a group of young people leaping off a high cliff last week, and listening as I walked past, heard the NZ accent again. You see – cliffs are for doing bombs from, mountains are for climbing.

So, the last of the beach, the sun, the tourists, and my time here – the last of the summer wine.