Certainly my last trip before Christmas 2024, sent me to the Balkans, with the main purpose to watch the football between Montenegro and Wales. When booking the trip in March, little did I know that I wouldn’t have a ticket, I’d have to take unpaid leave from my new job (just a fortnight after doing the same for my three week honeymoon!) and the venue of the game would be changed just a fortnight before matchday!

Nevertheless, I do believe that it is my favourite Wales away yet. With so many potential things that could – and did – go wrong, ultimately it all worked out – AND we won which is never a given!

The trip is poignant as it is the first time I have spent the whole trip going solo. Other times I have travelled alone, I have always met up with friends or events the other side. I will admit I enjoyed the freedom and not having to have any immediate plans at the drop of a hat. If I wanted to go for a walk, no probs. Spend 30 minutes having a fag sat on a park bench watching the world go by? Absolutely. Nobody to tell me once I had too much to drink? Thankfully I didn’t get to that stage! I felt safe in every location I visited. I was very grateful for a little bit of company before the match in Niksic from a couple of fellow Newport County fans, and a few strangers on a boat trip that was just enough to avoid feeling lonely – oh and my wonderful wife on WhatsApp!

Introduction

My usual template of how I write my posts can’t really work here as I kinda had 2 small holidays in two separate countries, plus a day trip to another! You will obviously get to read about what I got up to with hopefully a sprinkling on some fun facts on the way.

For clarity in the hope that other parts of the blog make sense, in total I was away for seven nights/eight days. Days 1-4 in Montenegro, days 5-7 in Dubrovnik (Croatia) although I also made a half-day trip to Mostar Bosnia on day six! You with me? Good. Too confuse you further, I went to three different places in Montenegro that consisted of a day trip to coastal Budva, a city called Niksic for the match, with my base being in the capital called Podgorica (I knew how to pronounce it for about a week but I’ve lost it since! (I think it is pronounced Pod-gor-it-za!)

Costs

Following on from my last point, if I listed individual expenditure from three different countries we’d both be here for days, so I’ll try and summarise.

Flights were €250 and were made up of a WizzAir flight from Gatwick to Podgorica, and an EasyJet return from Dubrovnik to Bristol, which was worth paying that little bit extra as Bristol is a lot closer to home. These fares were with hand luggage only, and both flights I think I was a little lucky to avoid the extra fares as no way was my bag fitting in that shitty little box before boarding. I also washed my own clothes on 2-3 occasions which saved on luggage and laundrette fees (massive benefit of staying in an apartment or somewhere with outside space or balcony!).

The bus from Newport to Gatwick was decent at £22, but did mean leaving home at 7pm on the Thursday with my flight not until 5am on the Friday!

To get from Montenegro to Croatia I used a £25 Flixbus, but note that one should not expect the comparative luxury you get on a branded FlixBus in this neck of the woods. In this case they were simply an agent for a local company with coaches that I doubt would pass their MOT in the UK.

I’m not adding up every entry on my Monzo statement but I reckon the total cost all-in was less than £1,000.

Accomodation

To reduce costs it turned out that I stayed in apartments throughout the trip. Podgorica and Niksic about £20-25 per night and Dubrovnik £50 per night, which was good for the area.

Other subliminal costs and prices of tours etc I’ll try and remember to include in the diary itself. Let’s get started.

Day One (Friday) – Podgorica

Shall we quickly begin with some fun facts? – given that Montenegro isn’t high up on the most popular tourist destinations I’ll visit. Montenegro is a former Yugoslav country in the Balkans. It’s size it about half of Wales, yet has a population of only 620 odd thousand. It is bordered by five different countries to help you find it on a map (clockwise Serbia, Kosovo, Albania, Croatia and Bosnia with a coast to the south on the Adriatic Sea.

The name Montenegro translates to “Black Mountains” a nod to the thick forestry within the country. After the break up of Yugoslavia is became part of “Serbia & Montenegro” but gained full independence in 2006. The majority of the country is Christian, although a significant number of those with Islam faith still remain, being once within the Ottoman Empire.

A significantly fun fact is that they use the Euro as currency, yet are NOT part of the European Union.

I seriously cannot find many famous Montenegrins of the current day, and previously I assume they’d be regarded as Yugoslav. Football-wise, Stevan Jovetic played against Wales – who is a former Sevilla, Inter Milan, Fiorentina and possibly remembered at home as a Man City player in the mid-2010’s.

The flight from Gatwick to the Montenegrin capital was a comfortable enough three hours. Not so fun fact: I had researched beforehand that the airport is one of only like, two, in Europe that do not have any public transport connections. Bizarre as it was only about 15 minutes outside of the centre, where public buses ran really well and were free for my stay.

For this reason, cue a plethora of taxi drivers trying to rip you off. The internet suggested that a trip to the centre would cost €12, so I was mildly peeved to get a bloke down to €15 from €20. THEN the cheeky sod grabbed another three stranded tourists and ALSO charged them €15 each. An absolute scandal, but at this point I worried that if I disembarked this ride I would struggle to get offered another one from the fat controller running the show outside arrivals. I did not leave a tip and purposely paid with a fifty note just to hear the driver whinge about his lack of change.

I forgot to mention in my rage, that he did try and get another ten Euro off me for a drop off at my apartment, saying it was 8km away from the Centre. I told him in different terms to shove it up his arse, and that it was actually 4km, and headed for lunch with a hell of a frown. Great start.

The one thing Scrooge McDriver actually did do for me was to drop me really close to the main square pictured above. Now I really did like the city but what a bloody crap main square, even with a token Hard Rock. Exploring the menus for the three café restaurants nearby and after picking up some cheap cigs, I was delighted to find a pizza and a cider for under a tenner. I was not planning on drinking at 11:30am however the Somersby cost less than a coke. No brainer really.

This pleasant lunch break gave me chance to cool off (it was bloody boiling most of the time in Montenegro and I wasn’t quite prepared for such. Much more humid than South America a fortnight earlier!) and to find my way to my apartment using local transport.

Luckily a relevant bus stop was a mere ten minute walk away, outside the stadium where Wales should have been playing at on the Monday. The bus ride was interesting. I boarded what could be considered right in the middle of town, yet 4km away in a straight line it felt you are in the far suburbs, borderline countryside.

This meant my apartment was in a quiet area and I was grateful for a sign post.

The apartment I stayed at was called Apartments F (link) and whilst the outside gardens were nice I did get a bit of a shock when being shown to my room in the basement. Blog-followers will note that only a fortnight prior I was living the life of comparative luxury in 4-5* hotels in Peru, Argentina and Brazil, so this was somewhat of a come down!

Still, another bonus of solo travel, is that – for me and for the cost – it was ab-so-lute-ly fine and nobody else had to be satisfied. It was near a bus stop, had a decent shower, fridge, superb air-con and supermarket nearby. It was also nice to give my cash to a family rather than a big corporation, albeit Booking.com classes as one I suppose.

After only I’d say about an hour, I caught the bus back in to town to do some exploring. Podgorica suggestions didn’t come up with much, but anywhere with a river running through the middle of it brings hope.

There was a pretty basic “Millennium Bridge” that popped up on a few lists for reasons unknown, but the park nearby was really pleasant.

From here it was a riverside walk to the oldest bridge in the city, super dried out as it was I think the hottest summer on record (this qualify as a fun fact?). I did have a local beer in a bar just to the right of the bridge, but the fact they charged me €5 instead of the anticipated €1-2 means they get no photo, sorry folks. I swear most of the time I must have a sign above my head that reads TOURIST TAX.

Up some rather unfavourable steps in the heat followed to bring me to the old town. You’ll get to see what a few ‘old towns’ look like as you continue reading, but maybe scratch this one. The area was mainly small houses, empty/derelict houses, I really think with a bit of investment and a few coffee shops it could be bustling, although I appreciate the residents here like their privacy – there certainly were not many tourists. Even the sight in the area, a mosque, didn’t really take my fancy as I walked on through for some dinner at a shopping centre.

Although I didn’t plan to beforehand, now I had found my bearing I popped back to the apartment. I would be going to watch the Wales home game down the pub this evening at 8:45 but that was still a few hours away. I topped up some snacks in the supermarket and believe I had an hour or two kip (I had a total of 90 minutes sleep on a plane in the last 36 hours). I remember it being a minor struggle to drag myself up and set off for a pub.

With no idea what the buses were like in the evening, I was delighted to be offered a lift in to town by my host. I picked a posh looking bar called the Welder Pub, and with some affordable €3.80 lagers settled down to watch a 0-0 draw between Wales and Turkey, back in Cardiff near home.

Not so fun fact: The reason I missed this game was utmost stupidity on my part. When booking, I ‘accidentally’ booked a flight for the Monday matchday, thought to myself “No, make a weekend of it” and paid £30 to change my flight, twenty minutes before realising I’d be missing a bloody home game!

Funner fact: My wife had my seat, going to her first ever Cymru match with my mum and friend. Although it was goalless she did have a good time and has even hinted about going again!

At half time I actually moved to a bar a few doors up where bottles of local beer was just €1.50. I stayed here until close around midnight, grabbed a very decent chicken kebab wrap, realised the local taxi app was less than useless and made the long 4km trek home – which, with a new Simon Kernick audiobook on the go, was actually really pleasant. I was however, way too tired at this stage. Just what you need before a 7:25am bus in the morning…

Day Two (Saturday) – Budva and Sveti Stefan

Pre-assuming that Podgorica wouldn’t keep me fully entertained for 3-4 days, I booked a 90 minute trip to the southern coast of the country and a return back TWELVE hours later at 9:30pm. It was a long day. Bus price around £12 return.

Budva is probably the most popular tourist destination in the country, surrounded by mountains. It was super-hot today so being by the sea offered a little respite. I realised beforehand that there is nothing in the way of public buses or trams/trains, so started off by walking for half an hour from the bus station to the marina and had a look at the boats I’ll never be able to afford.

For the first time since the flight over, I noticed a few Welsh bucket hats bobbing around the old town. I think a lot of fans, especially those who didn’t secure tickets, stayed here for a few days.

The old town was instantly different from that in Podgorica, with your typical narrow streets, cafe bars and gift shops.

After walking around the old town for a little bit deciding whether to pay more than expected for breakfast, I noticed the citadel was open to visit and a few people on the roof. I do love a good viewpoint.

The citadel itself was small and apart from a closed restaurant and two library rooms that Mikayla would have enjoyed, the best was undoubtedly the view of the old town and further afield.

Already with a sweat-soaked back, I picked up a magnet for the mother (she really need to reinstate pocket money for the amount I’ve spent on these this year!) and realising it was only 11:30, made the rare decision to just do nothing for an hour. I picked a great spot on a beach under the shade and stretched out a can of €4 Fanta for the duration as I researched somewhere reasonably priced for lunch.

The place for lunch was another 20 minute walk away but on the way I did notice a bus service that would take me to a beach a little further along the coast. The lunch itself was, well, meat heavy, but for €15 it was outstanding, albeit a lot more than my intended light lunch. The look on the waiters face when he brough two plates out with the food, with me looking at him to say “I’m not sharing, pal”.

Close to regretting the salt content of the above platter, I paid about €3 for a minibus that would take me to Sveti Stefan, a small beach area to the east of Budva. The minibus filled up to capacity and was SO uncomfortable in the heat, and then I had to walk down 200 steps to reach the beach!

I hadn’t brought with me any swimming gear or towel so initially just made to with a short walk and a drink. The “town” as you can see, is actually out in the sea a little, joined by a narrow path. I’m led to believe people live here yet I cannot see one actual window in the photo below!

I was further put off a swim by the €25 cost for a sunbed, but after some time in the shade, decided the heat was so intense I needed to cool off.

The sea was lovely and warm (yet cool compared to the air) although I should have made more of a plan clothing wise before jumping in in just my boxers.

I can’t quite remember how or what order I re-dressed myself, apart from hanging my pants on a tree for about 20 minutes to dry off (I had my shorts on…). Not sure if it was worth the hassle but it was more pleasant than my last dip in the Adriatic, a NOVEMBER visit to Sarandë, Albania in 2018!

Rather surprised that I haven’t taken any other photos before the bus back ‘home’ to Podgorica?? Hmmm… Basically I returned back to Budva just in time for the County game at 4pm on the same beach I was earlier (lost 4-1 and two players sent off – good one to miss – even with another expensive Fanta). I went to another restaurant afterwards to watch more football on the TV with a bowl of soup, walked halfway back to the station, had some dinner in a local restaurant away from the touristy stuff, and headed to the station way to early struggling to stay awake.

I have found one photo, a rather crap one from the bus back, driving up the mountainside overlooking the town.

Day Three (Sunday) – Podgorica

Today will be quick as I had another full day in the capital.

My first stop was the “Orthodox Temple of Christ’s Resurrection” Church that looked quite impressive with no buildings of a similar size in the vicinity.

I say it every time but I’m not really one for religious buildings, HOWEVER, look at the colour and detail in here!

Strangely, apart from this grand open space, there wasn’t much else to explore for such a large building.

I’m certainly not a prayer-er-er-er , but I did remember that I still hadn’t secured a ticket for tomorrow. So a bit of divine intervention wouldn’t go amiss.

Whilst during a long aimless walk from the church to the below, that shows the apparent Podgorica “castle”, a phone call with my mother offered me slight hope of a ticket. Long story short, the official travel company for Welsh fans couldn’t get here because their plane was grounded, and therefore there MAY be some tickets that were returned.

As I entered the hotel where the ticket collection point was, I was told that if there are any spares they will be made available online later in the evening or tomorrow morning. Slight hope perhaps, but having seen plenty of people without tickets and the £4 price tag not worthy of being returned by no-shows my chances were not looking good.

With my list of things to do in Podgorica now almost exhausted, I returned to the hotel to wash some clothes (it’s not all photogenic sights and beers, kids….) then back out for some tea.

That evening, whilst boring dinner-wise, did entail a few Wales tickets being on sale officially – yet in a higher band than I’m in and quick to sell out, and TWO responses from Montenegrins giving me real hope.

A taxi driver I used a few times during my time in the city knew a mate in Niksic who worked for the Montenegro Football Association, and interested because I told him I’d give €30 to anyone who could help on top of the ticket price.

Secondly, my apartment host in Niksic for tomorrow also seemed keen to help, with tickets not going on sale until the day of the match (tomorrow). I was in high spirits choosing to walk the long road back to my digs for my last evening in the city.

Day Four (Monday) – Niksic and matchday

Fair to say the first 90 minutes of my morning could not have gone any worse.

I turned up for my 8am train around 40 minutes in advance, bought my €3-ish ticket and waited patiently for the train.

Only at 8:15 did I go to ask what time it was due, only to be told it had already departed twenty minutes EARLY and, being British, never expecting trains to arrive on time let alone early, was none the wiser as it approached, stopped, and consequently left the station without me.

Shit.

To add insult to injury, I received a message from my taxi driver stating that his mate can’t get me a ticket as his own Association warned not to let any Cymru fans in to the home end.

Shitter.

Now before you get too upset, this is where things miraculously started turning around.

The bus station next to the train station had a coach going to Niksic as soon as 9:30am and I was delighted to pay €6 and jump aboard. Whilst on the coach, my apartment host also agreed that we would go together to get some tickets once I arrived. Don’t get too hopeful, Christopher.

After only an hour or so the bus pulled in to Niksic, where it was only a 15 minute walk through the main square to where I was staying. I met my host Vladimir just as he finished getting my room ready (the highly recommended Old Niksic Apartment – link) and a few minutes later were in his car on the way to the stadium!

I was really surprised to see the queues outside the ticket office and immediately lost a bit of hope. Vlad and I agreed it would be best if he went to scope out the situation.

Unfortunately, due to Wales being a MASSIVE pull for the locals, tickets were strictly 1-per-Montengrin-ID, so we wouldn’t be able to go together.

However, being an absolute martyr, Vlad used his ID to buy a ticket, giving it to me(!!) along with the obvious comments about me behaving myself and keeping a low profile as it was his name on the ticket.

And there it was! Vlad the lad wouldn’t even accept more than the €10 cost even though I was adamant he should accept the €30 bonus I offered him when booking the stay.

I still had concerns about passing security at the ground, but nothing a few lagers wouldn’t calm. Perfectly, as Vladimir dropped me back at the apartment it was now 11:30 – acceptable enough to have a beer.

For the several hours before the game I stayed in one single pub (weirdly – it wasn’t even cheap) as I started editing photos for this post, spoke to a few north Walian’s and see the sunshine turn into grey clouds as it started to ABSOLUTELY PISS DOWN.

I really enjoyed the company of two fellow County fans Duncan and Tony (with his 8? pint glass) as we chatted and got excited for the game, in much quieter surroundings that usual, undoubtedly due to the weather.

I even put up with one of the local drunks trying to talk to me. Although I couln’t understand a word he said apart from a slurred ‘Montenegro’, he obviously loved me that much he donated his cap with the word Montenegro on to me! After initially fuming that he wouldn’t take his possession back, I thought…. well this will work bloody wonders getting into the stadium as a Montenegro fan!

AND IT DID.

Luckily the weather was so dreadful the security outside of the stadium wasn’t as stringent as I worried about. I took my seat with the home fans who didn’t look too disconcerting, yet I applauded their team and the anthem as though I was one of their own, reducing myself to only quietly hum along to Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau.

By the time I settled down and got over the fact I was actually there – I made it! – Wales were already two goals ahead after just three minutes thanks to Keiffer Moore and Harry Wilson.

It was a good job as well, as twenty minutes in to the game, the rain became impossibly worse and whatever tactics we had must have gone out of the window!

I didn’t want to chance hunting for a beer at half time so made do with a few ciggies and a selfie with my sexy aforementioned Montenegro cap.

The second half was chaotic as expected. Chuck in a short fireworks display and a late Montenegrin goal to make things interesting. But we won!

The walk back from the ground to the centre/apartment was about 20-30 minutes. I gave up trying to keep my shoes dry after two minutes, and by the time I got back was just walking in puddles up to my socks.

As we were walking I witness pubs closed, food outlets that would usually be open doing a roaring trade packing up, and went to bed hungry, wet and cold. Still. What a whirlwind of a day, thanks to the unbelievable generosity of a stranger. Cheers to Vladimir!

Day Five (Tuesday) – Niksic to Podgorica to Dubrovnik

Well, the rain stopped at least.

I didn’t bother putting too much effort in drying my clothes last night, so I was content with just my socks and trainers still being soggy. I was DREADING walking around in my only pair of shoes for today but they dried out quicker than anticipated.

After a slightly groggy start, it was time to walk back to the station (not the fucking train one) to travel back to Podgorica, before the onward journey to Croatia. I managed to book one in an hour’s time, which gave me an opportunity to get a burger and chips (at 11am) and replace my drowned ciggies.

As soon as I returned to Podgorica I thought in hindsight that I should have stayed a bit longer as three hours back here seemed a bit much.

Nevertheless, with a bit of digging above your usual google and TripAdvisor, decided to visit a park / forest area near the stadium, so quite central but a solid 45 minute walk each way with a heavy backpack on.

Gorica park was actually quite cool. The park itself covers a big area and I expect gets quite hilly as there are several viewpoints, although with limited time I was happy to walk up a small incline for ten minutes to reach the ‘Partisan Fighter’ monument, a tribute to those who fought in World War Two.

On making my way back down to the centre I noticed a few steps that would give me a decent view of Podgorica City Stadium – remember this was where yesterday’s game should have originally been played, but due to the pitch it was moved to Niksic. The ground had quite a bit of character but looking at the playing surface I doubt there could be to many complaints from the players!

Anyway, you’ll be pleased to know the rest of the trip was rather uneventful. I walked back to the bus station and on to the 4 hour ride to Dubrovnik. With a few stops and a ridiculously long time at the Croatian border crossing I didn’t get in to Dubrovnik until 10pm, so caught a quick uber to my apartment, a kebab from over the road and made some plans for tomorrow!

Day Six (Wednesday) – Dubrovnik

I’ve just mentioned I made plans late last night, but looking back I’m sure I booked today’s boat trip a bit earlier – a slight risk as I’d yet to have any idea of my bearings or how I would get to such vessel. Ultimately, after an early wake up and bag pack for a potential swim, I walked 20 minutes downhill from my lovely apartment (link) in the Lapad district of the city.

OK so it wasn’t that boat above, but cool eh? I think it goes from the Marina to the small port in Dubrovnik old town.

My boat tour would be around a few caves with a chance to swim, then on to a beach on a vehicle-less island. Having had a bit of a treacherous time at a beach on Saturday I hoped this would be a bit more enjoyable. The actual trip I bought through Viator is linked here. Not cheap but at £57 but very good value.

After the group of 12 sailed out of the marina then drive’ put his foot down, we soon arrived at a small island that was home to the ‘Blue Cave’. I made use of the complimentary snorkelling equipment and chucked myself in.

These 20 minutes or so were up their with the highlight of the trip.

The water was so clear and the amount of fish in the water was something I hadn’t experienced before, which was cool. As you can see in the photo below, the cave entrance is pretty much underwater. I think drowning would be my last option when my time comes, so it took some courage to swim underwater for 3 meters, not knowing what was on the other side. I can adequately swim but have never had to do so at any sort of pace or urgency. Never would have tried it if another 20 odd people went under before me!

The other side of the cave was an experience. It was obviously nearly pitch black, with the only light coming through the water. I’m still kicking myself I didn’t bring my waterproof phone pouch to take more photos.

As nice as the cave was, I didn’t really want to hang around, so after a minute made my way back out, under estimating the length of the cave, kicking the roof on the way out that produced way too much blood back on the boat for such a small cut on my foot!

Undeterred, I was straight back in the water for our next stop, an area with four caves of different ‘squeeze through this if you’re buts / stupid’ levels of size. There wasn’t really much to see and given my size (and slight claustrophobia perhaps) I weren’t going to do much exploring. I just enjoyed it as it was something I hadn’t done before.

Our third and last stop was to the beach on the secluded Sunj beach on Lopud island, the one with no cars. It does have a few shops and hotels, but as we had to disembark IN the water, waist high and walk to shore, decided to hang by the beach instead.

By the way, it really was a complete balls-up that I didn’t bring my flip-flops. In total I visited 3 beaches and a waterfall, which apart from here, all had really sharp sand or stones!

The water here was very shallow even quite a way out, but it was very clear and for not the first time this trip I had that “what a time to be alive” kinda’ feeling.

… so it was only right, that on the way back I rounded off the morning with a beer!

Back on land, I spent way too long first finding a bus stop then realising how infrequent some stops are, before choosing to walk back uphill for a nice shower in my room and more laundry duty!

I can’t quite remember how long I stayed in the room for, but it wasn’t as long as I thought looking at the sun below. This evening I was going to waste no time planning to briefly visit the old town and get a good view for sunset. My pedometer must have been close to a heart attack as I again sided with walking 30 minutes (downhill at least) to the old town rather than a bus.

Oooh look it’s that pirate ship from this morning!

There is probably a few photos missing here, but I’ll visit the old town again on Friday, so let me take this opportunity to tell you how miffed I was about the prices in the area.

One activity I was planning for Friday was to walk the city walls, a circular route along the walls (there is a path) that can take up to two hours. However, I thought €35 was an absolute piss take. Of course I get that the area needs significant investment to maintain the site, but that was just too much. There were literally hundreds of paying punters who did cough up the cost and I hope they thought it was worth it (I said I’ll pay it next time when I go with the wife).

Not to concentrate too much on the old town before Friday, but I like to try and to things in order, and on my way to the cable car noticed a few of these posters around, showing how much of the old town was targeted by the Yugoslavs between 1991 and 1992. Must be heart-breaking to see something of such historical and cultural significance being targeted.

Ok so I have changed my mind and will provide a couple of photos of the old town rather than two posters….

More of that further down.

My goal this evening was to reach the top of the hill / mountain whatever to see the sunset. By the time I reached the cable car to enable us tourists to do such, I was running very close to missing out.

Deep down I am way more furious at the cost of the cable car over the city walls. TWENTY EIGHT fucking Euro for a return trip on a cable car that takes 45 seconds. Trying to be a little defiant, I only bought a one way ticket at €15 and thought I’d walk back down after sunset. Ooohhh what a decision that was…

But before then, lets enjoy the nice stuff. The photo above is all of the Old Town, with the diamond plated magical cable car in the foreground.

… followed by two rather pleasant photos of the sunset. I’m pretty sure the first two islands in the background are where the caves were, the third being the beach.

So. That was nice. I just had to get back down now. After going the wrong way twice to even find the path, I was glad to see a good few others attempt the walk down with me.

However, that did not make up for the fact the path was formed of mainly large, loose stones and if you haven’t put 2+2 together being after sunset… it was starting to get dark.

The next HOUR was really quite a challenge. From the get go, I already felt a bit daft that I was doing this instead of paying the €13 for the return car. If I hurt my foot a) that’s the rest of my holiday buggered and b) will I get eaten by wolves up here?

The trail consisted of about 14 zig-zag paths, with each point depicting the journey of Christ – assumingly to his crucifixion and then the rising from the dead stuff. I wasn’t really in the spirit of following this too closely as just wanted to get down, and couldn’t even see them after perhaps the third one. I have no idea how the below picture came out so bright! It was ten minutes after the one above?!

With the help of some bangers on Radio X in my ears I eventually made progress with only a couple of slips. God, it was just so monotonous especially in the dark.

After I reached the last Jesus-stone-marker thingy I fully expected to be back in civilisation, yet was presented with about 15 minutes of forest to walk through, with mud replacing the rocks. Below would have been my view if my phone ran out of battery! I’d be dead wouldn’t I?

I’m writing this, so you guessed I made it. Funnily enough the end of the trail actually led out on to a busy dual carriageway for shits and giggles. I was so tired and fed up at this point I couldn’t be arsed to think about getting a bus, so walked for around another 45 minutes uphill to the apartment, again via the takeaway opposite, demolishing a 14 inch pizza. I had done 20,000 steps since teatime (which is a lot harder when you’re 20+ stone FYI).

Day Seven (Thursday) – Day Trip to Bosnia & Herzegovina

I had slept well after last nights shenanigans and a telling off from the wife.

Today I would spontaneously be adding country #46 to the list, by booking THIS Viator day trip to Mostar and Kravice Waterfalls through Viator for a very reasonable £38.

Fun fact: until a few years ago, from the southernmost area of Croatia where Dubrovnik is, you had to travel a few miles through Bosnia (and therefore two boring border crossings) to reach the rest of the country. The bit of Bosnia is where a small town called Neum is located, where we briefly stopped for a wee and I took the photo below.

A magnificent fun fact according to the tour guide: Bosnia has the shortest coastline in the world apart from Monaco! I made a note to check Aqaba in Jordan, as when we went there it was only a tiny gap between Saudi Arabia and Egypt, but to my surprise that coast is 26km compared to Bosnia’s 20km.

In the distance you can see a nice new bridge that has recently bypassed Bosnia – we’ll go there later.

Another fun fact: Why Bosnia *and* Herzegovina? Well, quite simply Bosnia is to the north, Herzegovina is the southern area. The nothern parts tend to be more aligned with Serbia and the south with Croatia.

In lieu of providing not as many fun facts as expected until now. Three in a row incoming….

Bosnia has three presidents and they change every eight months. I was surprised to find that B&H has a Muslim faith majority of 51% with Orthodox second around 30%. The place where we’re going next – Mostar – is the fifth hottest city in Europe (apparently – it wasn’t today!).

A not so fun fact is that Bosnia was not included in any of O2’s travel plans so I had to go, like, four hours without mobile data. Archaic. Imagine the costs if you were a Pokémon Go enthusiast.

I digress. We arrived at a coach park on the outskirts of the Old Town in Mostar, and for the first few blocks walking to the famous bridge witnessed dozens of buildings displaying reminders of the tragic Bosnia War between 1992 and 1995.

Our guided tour of the area only took about 30 minutes but covered enough. It was ample I thought. Through some very narrow market streets you end up at one side of the bridge, itself bombed by the Croats in 1993. I was surprised that the current version has only been in place since 2004. When checking the dates for this part I found this webpage really useful and insightful.

The bridge itself is… perhaps not the most spectacular you’ll see… but I guess the significance and history that surrounds it makes it very important. Nowadays, you’ll see many a social media video of people jumping off. Given the height, and the narrow river SURELY not being very deep?! I didn’t fancy getting my pants soggy just yet this morning.

Instead, I headed for an early lunch, which I kid of stumbled upon as I wanted to get a decent picture of the bridge from further away. Mission accomplished you could say with this banger below! Lunch was also really nice. I had soup followed by steak and chips with two cokes for about £18, and it looked the poshest place in the area.

There were two occasions where young lads (my eyesight is very good) were in a position to jump, attracting loads of selfie-stick waving tourists, but I’m sad to say they both bottled it. Pussies.

After lunch it was another slow walk through the old town, over the bridge and past the many gift shops and cafés (with SO MANY people in my fucking way) to jump back on the bus.

Although delighted that I felt enough to tick BiH off the list, I was still looking forward to visiting the waterfall on the way back, and unlike Saturday, actually brought a change of shorts!

I’m a bit annoyed that below is the only photo I took of Krevice, an area in the middle of nowhere but a good tourist setup with big car park, ticket office, cafes and even a train to bypass the 200 odd steps down to the small lake at the bottom of the falls.

We didn’t have much time here. 45 minutes I think…. So I didn’t waste any time stripping off and having a swim in the lake. I can’t really think of a time as an adult that I’ve swam in anything other than a beachy place or an actual swimming pool, so this seemed new. Again massively regretting my decision not to pack flip flops, I was greeted by rocks followed by sharp sand that I genuinely thought would draw blood!

When in the water though, I was peaceful again, to the point I lost track of time enough to miss the train back up the hill to the bus, and walking back up the bloody steps! At least the chafe was averted with a change of clothes eh?

That waterfall stop was about an hour from Mostar, so we had about 2-3 hours to go until Dubrovnik. This was pleasantly broken up by a stop at some toilets at the bridge I mentioned earlier. The bridge that meant Croats could finally travel to the whole of the country by road, without going through a slither of Bosnia.

Not embarrassed in the slightest to appreciate a good bridge, this beaut was opened no more than 3 years ago and incredibly only took two years to build! What I thought was equally impressive was the miles and miles of new road constructed over mostly redundant land on one of the many islands off the coast.

Although it was only mid afternoon by the time I got dropped off at the apartment, I made the choice to have a quiet night, watch some TV, smoke too many ciggies on my balcony and try to decipher whether to depart with 35 euro to walk the Old Town walls.

Don’t be disappointed. This would be at least 4 paragraphs longer if I actually did something!

Day Eight (Friday) – Dubrovnik Old Town

As my flight home wouldn’t be until 10pm that evening, I left my apartment at the last possible moment although I was able to leave my bag there for the day.

As I finally caught a bus the short time to the Old Town I was still in two minds about the walls. It wasn’t nice to have that treacherous path from Wednesday looming over me up the hill!

Ultimately I think I made the wise choice and decided to explore within the walls rather than walk around them.

A good choice in hindsight.

It was surprising how much of the town is on an incline and a steep one at that. Strange how many streets up the stairways felt so off the beaten path, and there’s quite a lot of houses, flats and hotels adorning these narrow alleys.

After a considerable effort making it to the top of the south side, there was a little opening that led to a stairway ending up with a bar and a view of the sea.

Back on my own trail following the internal circumference where I could, after about 45 minutes ended up at The Cathedral of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, which was worth a brief visit.

Just to the right of the image above were some steps leading down to the busier areas. These steps were obviously memorable from Game of Thrones with at least three tours simultaneously being delivered. I’m sorry but I just couldn’t relate. The TV show must have added so much in the way of special effects. Or maybe it was just the amount of people. I did nose at one tour that mentioned the shows had to bargain a payment with EVERY business within the walls to film, but I can’t recall the figure. Much like Harry Potter and Privet Drive, by the end of the season

A lazy coffee people watching and a final walk down the strip and I felt that I enjoyed the area enough within 3 hours.

On exiting the Old Town area Fort Lovrijenac caught my eye. More bloody steps but hopefully a decent view at the end of it!

And this view certainly didn’t disappoint. I didn’t go in to the fort itself at a cost of 15 Euro, but I thought the view to the visitor entrance was very acceptable and again justified not departing with unnecessary cash.

So that little trek was a good way to bring my adventures to a close. Albeit after a splendid lunch and getting lost finding my way back to the apartment to pick up my bag.

Don’t really want to end on another plate of cattle, so here’s another one of the Old Town. Best football away trip to date!

Finally, just a note that Dubrovnik airport is rather shit. Nowhere open even at 8pm, and of course the flight back was delayed by 90 minutes, being the last easyJet journey of the day!

Thanks for reading! I’ll leave you alone until 2025 now hopefully!… Unless I’m really on the ball with a trip to Northern France straight after Christmas.

Hi everyone, thanks for visiting.

Firstly, as the title suggests, this mammoth trip was for our Honeymoon after getting married in March. The trip would not have been possible if not for generous gift contributions from guests, so thank you.

As this link will appear in our (very late) thank you cards, for many of you it might be your first time visiting. Brace yourself for some bad grammar, perhaps a little potty language, but some incredibly fun facts and enough nice photos to separate my spiel.

I (i.e. Chris) have been very fortunate to have travelled quite a bit, with this trip adding countries 43, 44 and 45 to the ongoing total. Many of my other trips since around 2018 can be found elsewhere on my blog by using the menu above, including our mini-moon to Barcelona and Andorra (link here).

As our honeymoon covered 18 days including travel, I’ve given you a break and split the trip into three parts, one for each country. Hope you enjoy and any feedback would be appreciated!

• NOTE that I did initially attempt to write this during the trip. I failed. I’m writing this sentence in the hotel reception on an ancient PC on day 16!! As day 16 is in Brazil i.e. Portuguese language I cannot even find the bloody apostrophe on the keyboard! So that did not go to plan. However, I will likely upload separate posts in full, so if there is not link below, it has not been written yet.

Introduction.

Not really sure what to put here. I usually say a bit about the country I visit especially if they’re a bit off the beaten track. For this post though, they belong in their respective pages.

For the trip we used a company called Exoticca and paid our deposit in August 2023. At that time I never heard of Exoticca, so parting with a 60% deposit equating to thousands of pounds was a leap of faith! Since then I believe they have increased their presence a lot in the UK. The total price we paid for the trip was half of what local travel agents could offer.

Exoticca themselves are not much more than a middle man.  Sorting flights (nine in our case!) and handing us over to local tour operators in the given country. However, they pieced together the itinerary brilliantly, the hotels were perfectly adequate and they or the local operator were always on hand to assist.

We expected to be part of a group but in reality we were mostly left to our own devices. We shared a few excursions with other groups who had different holidays (for example one group done Peru and Ecuador so we were grouped with them in the Peru leg).

I usually thrive off planning my own travel plans, but in this case I’ll happily say it would have been impossible to achieve such a fulfilling holiday of a lifetime.

There is a lift of our hotels below with the relevant Booking.com link too for your perusal (PERU-sal, lolz).

That’ll do for the introduction at the moment. Click the links or images below to see our trip in detail.

Days 1 – 7: Peru

NOW FINISHED – CLICK HERE

Days 8 – 12: Argentina

NOW FINISHED – CLICK HERE

Days 13 – 17: Brazil

NOW FINISHED – CLICK HERE

Hotels.

• Lima – Mercure Ariosto Miraflores
• Sacred Valley – Inti Punku Valle Sagrado
• Cusco – Hotel Xima
• Beunos Aires – NH Buenos Aires Tango
• Puerto Iguazu – O2 Hotel
• Rio de Janeiro – Windsor Excelsior Copacabana

Having yet finished the blog for my wedding day, forgive me for jumping ahead for this 3 night break to The Algarve in southern Portugal, primarily to watch Wales play a football friendly versus Gibraltar. A slight shame as I’ve yet to tick off Gibraltar as a country, whereas I’ve been lucky enough to visit Portugal twice before… Porto in 2009 and Lisbon in 2022.

What makes this holiday unique, especially for a football match, is that I dragged along my mother, who, approaching the age of 69, was a bit of a gamble but what’s the worst that can happen eh? (She’s alive this is not an obituary).

Introduction

The Algarve is the collective area of tourism hotspots along Atlantic beaches. Its capital is Faro but other prominent places include Albufeira and Lagos. Given its southern European location it offers good weather all year around. Although the resident population is around 500,000, it welcomes circa four million visitors each year. That’s like 11 thousand per day on average!

Flights, Locations and Accomodation

The flights direct from Bristol to Faro were around £200 each, using Jet2 going; easyJet coming back.

Having followed Wales away for 7 years now, I had been crying out for a proper beach destination, so this trip focused on more relaxation than fussing around seeking out interesting things. I had been in the sea during trips to Albania, Turkey and Latvia, but this was a different vibe.

We spent 2 days near Albufeira (in a tiny village called Evaristo, which was nothing like Albufeira) and 2 days in Faro. The game on evening 3 was played in the Estadio Algarve on the very outskirts of Faro.

In Evaristo, we stayed two nights in Hotel Torre Velha costing £113. For a 2 star hotel it was lovely. The pool was small but quiet and the restaurant and bar would excuse you from having to leave the place, although apparently one of the nicest beaches in the Algarve was just a 5 minute walk down the road. That being said… 2 nights here were plenty. Another day I’d be pulling my hair out as there’s only so much relaxing (or grey hair martyrs) I can muster.

In Faro, we stayed at Villa Monaco at £74 a night. Looking for somewhere on the centre of Faro proved difficult in my price range (I was originally going solo) so I think I got lucky here.

The villa was outstanding with it’s own pool, endless amenities including loads of perfume and kitchen essentials, that were nice but certainly unnecessary for our single night. They had 3 ensuite bedrooms but it was unclear whether you would stay with strangers as the place was marked sold out on booking.com. Only a 4 euro Uber into town too, which was out of walking distance.

Costs

So the flights and hotels mentioned above amounted to £400… £200 each. Finding a package holiday anywhere near that price for 3 nights would be impossible and we had the freedom to stay in two different places.

Drinks were in the region of £4 for imported lager and cider, with local lager variants a quid or so cheaper.

Food in an average/nice restaurant I’m gonna say is between £15-25, but there are enough places around, even in quieter areas, where you can pick up a burger and fries for under €10.

Uber over here is REALLY good and a bit of a must considering mum’s mobility. The public buses that I researched beforehand appeared punctual if you’re happy for slower journeys, but with two travelling the prices weren’t that cheaper. For example, an Uber from Albufeira to our hotel, about 15 minutes ride, came in at £6 whereas the bus was £5 and would have taken 45 minutes.

I have to mention the ticket cost set by either the Gibraltar football association or the stadium. Thirty quid to watch Wales reserves against one of the lowest ranked teams in the world in a mostly empty (shit) stadium. Good job I had already booked flights as this was a piss take. Before the full time result.

Getting Around

This is a stab in the dark as it really depends on where you stay along the southern coast.

You can get a coach from the airport to the major spots, ours cost €10 each to Albufeira, so Faro won’t be dearer than that and I doubt Uber would be as much. For that reason I’d use the airport taxis as a last resort (but then I am frugal AF).

Public buses in Albufeira and outskirts had good routes but seemed to run hourly and were cash only.

Uber, as I’ve mentioned in the previous section, was by far my most convenient way to travel. From Evaristo to our hotel in Faro it only cost €26 for a 45 minute journey. We could not have done that cheaper spending hours on buses and coaches.

Everywhere we went would be a walkers paradise if you’re comfortable with narrow pavements and uneven paths especially outside of the popular areas.

Google maps worked very, very well here. Research your mobile data usage with your provider before you go as per. O2 still offers free EU roaming in 2024, mum with Sky cost £2 per day but if my wife joined us I think EE charge £6 per day!

Things we didn’t do…

Ok this is going to be a drop in the ocean as there are so many places to stay. Before the trip I did plan on going quad biking or a boat trip but ultimately found myself content lazing around. The boat trip is perhaps the one thing I should have done. Available from most beach areas I believe, they advertise potential dolphin sightings and a trip to Benagil cave, a cave with a hole in the roof that can only be accessed by sea.

In my defence, the offerings on TripAdvisor or GetYourGuide didn’t really offer anything unmissable. A lot of other Brits we shared a bar with seemed content with beaches, pools and beers.

Itinerary

This is usually the longest part of the blog but I really thing the majority of my time especially in Evaristo isn’t worth writing home about! But anyway… One of the benefits for never writing this without a beer in hand!

Day One

I’ve never seen Bristol Airport so busy at 4am. Both the parking checking-in and security entailed long queues, but in fairness to the Airport they dealt with demand really well I thought. You can imagine how surprised I was then, when on the plane I had a whole row to myself! The flight was only half full and that was including 30-40 Wales supporters. I was not complaining.

The Brexit passport control in Faro was infuriating as per but nothing to cause too much stress, in fact by the time we asked about transport to Albufeira we were just in time to catch the coach to Albufeira bus station.

From here we had a 50 minute wait for a public bus with a coffee. Yet after a quick browse on Uber decided to use this with a car already outside direct to our hotel.

On set by 11am and with our room not yet ready, we enjoyed a cider poolside.

Once we had the keys to our room and had hung my aging flag over the balcony, we headed to the beach. I’ve never had to pay that much attention to inclines with maps usually so was not aware of the  hill and 50 odd steps down to the beach, both of which were a challenge for Mum (bear in mind I walk her 500m from the pub to the stadium on County matchday!)

The beach was nice albeit a bit sharp with shells. The sea was warm and clear. The sunbed hire at 15 euro a day was never going to get me to part with my cash but the stewards did double up as lifeguards.

We returned to the hotel before the lunch service ended at 3pm to enjoy a burger and a swim in the pool, paying zero attention to the rules as we chucked around a tennis ball. Aww playing catch with my Mum, how cute.

True to Iberian culture, I allowed myself a siesta before we wandered around the streets for some tea. I had researched every eatery within reasonable walking distance but decided on a low end sports bar offering peri peri chicken. I’m starting to think peri peri must just mean grilled rather than a specific spicy flavouring, as my chicken had no flavour at all, but was ok whilst simultaneously watching cricket, a Portugal friendly, Wales women and drinking a Kopparberg before the short walk home to have an early night.

Only once I jumped into bed that evening did I notice my solar panel shoulders on fire from sunburn. The factor 50 was still in my bag…

Day Two

Up early and straight to the beach. On my own this time to ensure mother would be on a seat on the flight home rather than in a box with the cargo! I was the only person here at this time, and whilst I didn’t notice a particularly low tide as signed, I did notice the jungle of seaweed I had to wade through. I’m someone who can’t stand the little bits in the milk after my cornflakes so this was an issue I was proud to overcome!

For breakfast, we headed to an English pool bar called Scooby’s a few minutes away. A large proper English breakfast worth the €13 whilst being really impressed by the venue. In addition to a pool with slide, complimentary if you have a drink or food, they also had a park, sandpit, animal area with ducks and terrapins, showers, comfortable seating, complimentary sun lotion… A proper effort that otherwise wouldn’t make it in this piece of literature with such a high bar. To top things off, the place also had a mini golf course we intended to use tomorrow.

The afternoon was spent by the pool side, which was lacking in interest aside from me starting to write this rubbish.

We grabbed an Uber into Albufeira arriving at 6.30pm in the old town. I immediately noticed on our approach that where we were staying was nothing like Albufeira, a bustling tourism hotspot, countless apartments built in to the cliffs, hundreds of bars playing British classics filled with thousands of tourists and a beach that looked better than where we were based. In comparison calling Evaristo a village is pushing it a bit!

From our drop off point we wandered through a narrow street aligned with bars that led to the main old town square. Here there were loads more restaurants, with each one having two people trying to persuade you to choose them. This got really annoying really quickly even though I’m somewhat used to it. I didn’t take my earphones which are always a good piece of equipment to encourage the “marketing” gangs to leave you alone.

Escaping at the other side of the street (think British bulldogs fighting to get to this stage) we were greeted with an excellent view of the sprawling beach.

An outside escalator – genius idea I must say – took us up to a panoramic view out of ear from another play of Sweet Caroline. The views here were really nice and made me think we should have come here earlier than we did.

After our descent back to the chaos, we chose a bar/restaurant… Obviously one without any fuckers outside begging for custom. Chicken and chips weren’t the worst at 12 euro including a pint, but you could tell the places were filling up fast. From our seat you could watch 5 different football channels (win) and hear four different speakers (not win).

Instead of escaping back home there and then, we braved another walk through Bon Jovi hell – back to the main square to grab mum a magnet, enjoying an ice cream in some relative peace near the steep narrow streets of the proper old town.

Christ, I’m a miserable old man! Maybe because I wasn’t on the piss myself? I do over worry about things kicking off at any given moment, without realising my total European away game days must be now pushing 2 months and I’ve never witnessed anything above slight inconvenience.

By now, mum had used up her 110% effort for the day, so after a few hill climbs to the nearest road we grabbed an Uber back to the hotel.

This was the only moment I thought to myself I would have done more if I were alone. I bet there were some really good viewpoints up here once the streets were navigated. Just as the sun was setting too. But never mind.

It’s not everyday you go to sunny Europe to watch the footy with your mother is it, and I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who would give anything to be in my shoes.

At the hotel we had a coffee, and I did sneak in one cider enjoying my own company (again writing this) but still in bed by 11pm, noticing that I would have trebled my alcohol intake had I stayed at home for quiz night down the local.

Sunburn update. Shoulders are now okay. It’s my thighs that now resemble a pair of doner kebabs being roasted on full.

Day Three – Faro and Matchday

Lets get the sunburn sorted nice and early. It was fine here on. I did ultimately tan orange but it did highlight my wedding ring beautifully. Very helpful with my psoriasis too!

Up at 8 for one final swim in the pool. Back to Scooby’s for breakfast as we had to check out at 11. I kept my promise with mini golf as I absolutely annihilated mum, not my usual matchday routine, before out Uber to the next hotel.

Our host for our villa who was waiting for our arrival 2 hours before planned, was overly nice telling us all of the complimentary facilities. I didn’t have it in my heart to tell her that as soon as we set bags down and freshened up, were going for a beer in town.

We headed straight to what we thought was beer central in Faro, yet the three bars in a row were sparsely populated with Cymru fans. Good for us, as pints of Super Bock and Somersby Apple were consumed, chatting to a decent guy and fellow Bucket Hatter called John who lives in Sheffield who we ended up giving a lift to the ground.

We got to the ground. A purpose built facility for Euro 2004 when Portugal hosted the competition. If you Google map it, the stadium was designed to look like the trophy, which it does majestically.

In reality the stadium was absolutely awful given its young 20 year age. Perhaps the way we were accommodated and the ground  5% full added to my opinion.

For such a low key game, our Uber took us to the drop off point 200 yards from the turnstiles, yet when we approached the ground, we’re herded through a 400 yard, completely OTT fenced area to actually get to said turnstiles. Half way there, with a security check, a number of groups were walking the other way as, for the first time in probably 1,000 games I’ve seen, they breathalysed random people upon entry. I did not note the parameters of the exclusion. Although I was with my hobbling mother, I did worry my 4 (only 4 FFS behave) beers might have been too much.

For a usual game our football association, the FAW, try to warn such mediocre stipulations. So that was frustrating.

Token flag photo. Up the County.

Gosh, what to say about the game. We drew with one of the lowest ranked teams in the world. It was so bad it will  be “one to tell the grandchildren”. I clocked the dry pitch disadvantage early on but every conversation ultimately must end with “you have to win against fucking Gibraltar”. Shambles.

A few caught me on the Tele. Absolutely loving the spectacle. At least it didn’t rain?!?……..

Back in to town afterwards using yet another Uber, we chose an Italian for pizza with a bucket of salad and called it an early night.

Day 4

As our flight was not until 10pm we had a full day to look around Faro.

Approaching the marina and yesterday’s brief visit, I could tell the city was a lot smaller than imagined.

We booked a boat trip for later so after a small breakfast headed to Santa Maria church, primarily for the views, although a chapel made using human bones was something rather different!

The views from the top were worth the 5 euro entrance. It wasn’t very high (less steps like) but neither is Faro.

Although you’d think Faro is a coastal place given the marina, there is a whole national park between the city. Wetlands that run for some massive square kilometre-age that I forget. A bout tour around these was the next stop.

The boat tour around the area cost 17 quid for an hour, not bad. Our Portuguese guide Andre spoke fluent German, French and English which was something special in its own right.

As Mum and I left the harbour we were flown over by at least four aircraft. I’m always in awe of how such metal machines can glide through the sky and still be considered the safest method of transport.

I was informed the area is a nature park, rather than a nature reserve. The difference being that if it was the latter, our small boat wouldn’t be allowed and neither was the big bloody airport!

We meandered through the park / marshes / bogs / whatever. Because the tide was so high at the time our obviously knowledgeable guide told us that we wouldn’t see a plethora of birds, but the one guarantee was that we’d pass an area full of “fiddler crabs”, which was good enough for me.

Fiddler crabs are known by their massive left claw, that they use to…. pull a lady crab and shag. Bigger the claw and all that… and wave to tourists on a boat, obviously.

Imagine coming to read this as a football blog and learning about a type of crab. I spoil you.

Back on solid ground, we wandered around the central streets so mum could get a Portuguese pastry and a coffee (and a rest).

Given it was only now 2pm and the town didn’t look as though it offered a lot, I kinda put my foot down for the first time and suggested we book yet another boat trip, this time going further than the national park to a beach on the coast.

Ilha deserta. Gonna take a hunch and guess that translates to deserted island. A perfect choice a few hours before a flight home.

In actual fact, there was a public shuttle to here and when we arrived there was a sole restaurant. But the rest was proper nature. Whilst mum enjoyed a sit down watching the waves I had a very detoxing walk.

We had a (nother) coffee in the restaurant before our boat back to mainland, Uber to the airport via villa to collect the bags, and that was that.

It’s a shame the football always has to ruin a Wales football away trip.

Thanks for reading.