I was told I had purchased a small boat tour with a maximum of 20 people. Upon handing in the ticket I found it to be a large boat with 50+ other tourists hoping to enjoy a relaxing jaunt around the islands. I liked that there was room to spread out.
Our first stop was at another tourist pick-up where 50+ more got on.
I spot a plack that sais the maximum capacity is 80. We are now well iver 100.
People are sitting in the aisles, on the stairs, on each other.
We bounce and weave through the water for an hour and a half. I do not know how many people threw up, but many could not make it to the side in time.
We pull into a "small fishing village" that resembles more of a strip-mall. There is a resort, a few restaurants, and endless stalls of souvenirs. An ice cream cone costs 5euros. A small 500ml water...also 5euros. That is it. The sidewalk abruptly ends on one side and becomes the road out of town on the other.
After an hour of standing watching the crew spray down the deck, we reboarded and headed out for another hour and a half of a puke dodging, sweat fest.
We docked for lunch at what was advertised as a "traditional Croatian meal in an old village".
However, the village is on the other side of a high barbed-wire fence sepparating the well maintained greenery and ancient rock homes from the hundreds of tourists off four boats now. There is a tented seating area for maybe 200 and a makshift outdoor kitchen.
We ate first: grilled fish and french fries. Then we were rushed off to the beach so the other half could eat.
The beach was about 40m long and maybe 3m deep. The water was a nice reprieve, save for the constant cloud of engine exhaust that hung at the surface.
I swam out past the boats which prompted many loud yells and whistles that doing so was not permitted.
On the beach I found my towel covered in sand and my water bottle gone. Luckily, my bag was being watched. I sat down and was immediately covered in sand by people shaking their towels off to leave.
I did the same and we all reboarded. The final hour on the water can only be describbed as test. The one toilet stopped working and was now overflowing from the fluidity of bowl movements brought on by our undercooked meal. Stomachs so recently filled were now being eptied in every direction. And each time someone moved to escape the spatter their sweat would soak those around them.
Back on dry land I made a promise to myself: I would never again take part any anything touristy.
Our first stop was at another tourist pick-up where 50+ more got on.
I spot a plack that sais the maximum capacity is 80. We are now well iver 100.
People are sitting in the aisles, on the stairs, on each other.
We bounce and weave through the water for an hour and a half. I do not know how many people threw up, but many could not make it to the side in time.
We pull into a "small fishing village" that resembles more of a strip-mall. There is a resort, a few restaurants, and endless stalls of souvenirs. An ice cream cone costs 5euros. A small 500ml water...also 5euros. That is it. The sidewalk abruptly ends on one side and becomes the road out of town on the other.
After an hour of standing watching the crew spray down the deck, we reboarded and headed out for another hour and a half of a puke dodging, sweat fest.
We docked for lunch at what was advertised as a "traditional Croatian meal in an old village".
However, the village is on the other side of a high barbed-wire fence sepparating the well maintained greenery and ancient rock homes from the hundreds of tourists off four boats now. There is a tented seating area for maybe 200 and a makshift outdoor kitchen.
We ate first: grilled fish and french fries. Then we were rushed off to the beach so the other half could eat.
The beach was about 40m long and maybe 3m deep. The water was a nice reprieve, save for the constant cloud of engine exhaust that hung at the surface.
I swam out past the boats which prompted many loud yells and whistles that doing so was not permitted.
On the beach I found my towel covered in sand and my water bottle gone. Luckily, my bag was being watched. I sat down and was immediately covered in sand by people shaking their towels off to leave.
I did the same and we all reboarded. The final hour on the water can only be describbed as test. The one toilet stopped working and was now overflowing from the fluidity of bowl movements brought on by our undercooked meal. Stomachs so recently filled were now being eptied in every direction. And each time someone moved to escape the spatter their sweat would soak those around them.
Back on dry land I made a promise to myself: I would never again take part any anything touristy.
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