Săliște was not for us the most interesting town. I will remember it for having the worst supermarket I have ever visited: 8 long isles, 4 dedicated to cleaning materials; fruit and veg options were potatoes, lemons, red and brown sprouting onions, and apples; about 20 varieties of bottled water and tragically no marshmallows – we had promised Jack that we would roast some.
The campsite owners were delightful. They’d set up six pitches in their garden. They had a three year old daughter and Ben and Jack played with her toys and her pet rabbits.
As is fairly usual for us, we left at 11am, first on a very good motorway and then a much slower road with prostitutes hanging around in lay-bys to service lonely truck drivers.
We were the only ones on the campsite when we arrived, and were greeted by the cheeky grin of the owners’ four year old daughter. Ben hit it off with her immediately and they were both soon getting into trouble together.
Soon after a miserable German couple arrived in a great white, followed by a delightful English couple from Farnham in Hampshire. By remarkable coincidence they lived, when first married, just around the corner from us.
Thursday was the hottest day we’ve had this year, at 26, and we headed off on bikes to the nearby lake with one half of the English couple. It was a very nice ride, with Ben on his own bike, Jack with Clare and Meg trotting alongside.
The lake is an old gravel pit, with a beach made out of coarse aggregate sand. Clare and our English friend were particularly excited to see the local fire department there with scuba equipment and scantily clad rescue workers. Their differing ways of wearing uniform reminded me of the 1970 American rock band, the Village People – one clad in nothing more than underpants and boots!
Our aim is now to head towards southern Croatia, spend a few days in Split, before driving north along the Adriatic coast.