Ushering in the "Jesus Year" in Croatia

I ended my 32nd year by doing what no self-respecting teacher should do - skip the last day of class.  But Nicola and I had a plane to Dubrovnik to catch, and friends to meet, so I rattled off a powerpoint on Wine Cooling Technologies and we caught the early train to Milan.

We were welcomed that afternoon in a tiny village just outside of Ston on the Peljesac Peninsula by a family Nicola grew up with.  Kat, the eldest and our tourguide for the week, is a firebrand of a woman, energetic and authentic.  Two of her siblings, Kiki and Matt, joined in.  Rounding out the crew was their mother and grandmother.  Their home overlooking the Bosnia-Hercegovina border, was right on the water and we took serious advantage of that proximity, swimming five times a day.

Pictures can't do Croatia justice.  The sun is brighter, the ocean such vibrant shades of green and blue, its saltiness buoyant, coating suntanned skin with tiny crystals.  The beaches are rocky, requiring water shoes to avoid sea urchins crowded in the crevices, but the water is so warm.  When followed by a cool outdoor shower and pitched Scrabble and UNO matches with cold Karlovacka beer, life is bliss.

A quick daily stop in Ston acquainted us with its highlights - the fortress wall running around the hillsides that locals claim is the longest after the Great Wall of China.  It's not, but it's still stunning.  The best stop for plain drinking yogurt, and the bakery with the melt-in-your-mouth chocolate cherry cakes.  The traditional salt farming production that the grandfather worked in his day.  The slippery, blinding white stone roads that Nicola had close contact with after a pigeon attack.  The local farmers markets with waterlogged melons.  Even better was the town festival.  While we missed the mass and procession, we definitely came in time for the market and the lamb roast...

But my birthday itself was a day of simple pleasures.  Among my friends at home, we laugh that 33 is the Jesus Year - the year of the height of his ministry, of major life changes, learning and accomplishments.  (It's also the year of his death, but we like to gloss over that inevitable outcome in this theory.)  While I like to think chucking up my steady life in Vancouver and moving overseas for my 33rd year constitutes a pretty major life change, I've also learned that God often works in very unique ways, and there will likely be more transitions in store.  And I welcome them, although I know they don't come without cost.

So maybe the relaxation of my birthday this year was the eye of the storm.  Hot coffee, the creamy plain yogurt drink I'm now addicted to, and still-warm from the bakery bureks (flaky pastries filled with ground meat or cheese) on the deck started the day.

Then Kat, Kiki, Nic and I hopped in the car and to a beach just past Orebic.  A quick mojito at a tiki bar started the festivities and we spent the next few hours swimming, napping and reading, stopping only for a quick late lunch.

Dinner back at the house was local Malvesia and several kilos of fresh mussels - Matt and his mother having a dueling cook-off.  I slept well - pleasantly weary from sun and surf.  Not a bad start to a big year.