There’s a ship that docks in the harbour each night. It’s a restaurant ship. I first saw it two nights ago and was very taken with it but I though it was just a once off tour ship that had stopped. I stared at it wistfully and then walked on. Last night I saw it again as we walked to get ourselves some take away cevapcici (a kind of sausage almost like boerewors – very tasty.) I stared after it longingly but N wasn’t biting and he scurried past it as fast as he could, clearly fixating on cevapcici.
When it was still there on our way back home I couldn’t take it any longer and I informed N that the next night I would be eating there. That he didn’t have to come with me, but I wanted a ship supper. N looked worried and said that it looked like it was full of smokers and very noisy. I said that he had all of the next day to debate whether or not he could handle it, but I was going to have dinner there come hell or high water.
The next day dawned rainy and oh look – I’m getting a cold. I spent much of the day sleeping off the nasty lurgy and wondering if I had been just a bit excitable about my high water protestations. N informed me grandly that he would grace my dinner ith his presence if he was allowed to bring his ear plugs and if I waved the smoke away from him the entire evening with something like a magazine. I only just managed to quash the fantasy where I throw him overboard. Fortunately the rain had stopped by the time dinner time swung by. I dragged myself off my sick bed. N dragged himself away from his computer looking like the doom of nations was nipping at his heels. Halfway down the street (what a pretty sunset – see picture below) he set about bemoaning the fact that he had forgotten his ear plugs. Thank heavens. The idea of dining with a non-responsive person complete with orange sponge sticking out of his ears was just about too much for me.
The sights we have to endure here in Makarska:
The ship restaurant thingy was funky. It’s a boat that seems to do tours during the day and then at night it docks and becomes a fish buffet restaurant.
The funky ship:
Tables on the deck:
The fish is cooked at the back end of the ship (the stern) by a man who looks just like a pirate. The man is not stern, the ship is. Has. Has one. A stern, that is. N was very excited. Not by the stern, but by the cook's pirate headgear. I told him it was just to keep hair out of our food but N was having none of that pesky realism and declared that clearly the ship had a pirate theme. Whatever – anything to distract him from the earplugs. The whole place was slightly rough and ready, which, I must say, was part of its charm. N played it safe (he is not exactly a reckless diner) with something that looked and tasted like crumbed hake. I branched out and had a half portion of the calamari (but these were whole crumbed squids, not the sanitized little rings) and a half portion of the mackerel. I really liked the mackerel. It was an entire fish, about a foot long. When the lady drenched it with olive oil I had inner conniptions but as it turns out I needn’t have. The whole thing was delicious.
Dinner:
The view from our table:
The kitchen (galley - HARRRR!) at the back of the ship:
Once I had finished my meal (and it was a goodly helping of food.) I had a moment of terrible regret. The regret was incited by the sight of a gigantic plate of mussels being carried past. They looked truly delicious. I managed not to sink a fang into the mussel bearer. I wish I could have tried the mussels too but I think there was scope for me to gain an instant 10 kg if I’d been allowed to indulge my every whim on that ship. When we were finished our food and I was finishing my wine N began to get restless for ice cream and so we headed off.
N had his usual two scoops of dulce latte - caramel stuff. I had a scoop of lime and one of a creamy vanilla. Both were delicious. After gobbling them up on a bollard at the harbour, I endured the waddle home. I’m super tired and somewhat less than 100% well. I’m hoping to get a decent night’s sleep because tomorrow we leave Makarska to go to Omis and hunt down some climbing. I’m not sure how the injured foot (feet) and fluey body will cope with any sort of physical exercise – I guess we will see tomorrow.
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