A Family Adventure Filled with Thrills, Spills, and Stunning Views.
Ah, the summer of 2011—a time full of adventure, exploration, and a dash of chaos!
After a couple of years travelling around exotic locales like Tanzania and Thailand, we decided it was time to keep our adventures a little closer to home.
Europe it was!
Besides, Thom had declared her intent to embark on some solo adventures that summer, and we needed to respect the teenage spirit of independence.
To please everyone (or at least try), I crafted a master plan: a 10-day experience in Croatia followed by a week in Crete.
Croatia was a mystery we were itching to unravel, and Crete was a crucial stop on our ongoing quest for the perfect island.
Genius, right?
Now, some vacations blur together in your memory, leaving you with only a sensation or a series of vivid snapshots.
Croatia, for me, was exactly that—an experience distilled into bursts of turquoise lakes, adrenaline highs, and comedic mishaps.
Knowing my audience (i.e., adrenaline-junkie Yoni and thrill-seeking Thom), I wisely kept us away from cities and immersed in nature.
Think rock climbing, whitewater canoeing, biking, and hiking in abundance.
Our first day actually began in a city, but don’t worry—it was a charming one, not the kind of place that makes you want to clutch your hiking boots and run.
Yoni spent excessive time studying the various county flags of Croatia, probably dreaming of which would suit his non-existent Croatian duchy best.
Then came our initiation into rock climbing. To say I was skeptical is putting it mildly.
Let’s be real: a middle-aged woman of my, shall we say, ample build, scaling cliffs? It sounded like a one-way ticket to Humiliation Station.
Turns out, climbing is all about technique—something I also lack. Thom and her friend Zoe were equally unimpressed.
We three quickly declared allegiance to abseiling, leaving Yoni to embrace his newfound passion for rock climbing like a goat on steroids.
Little did I know, this would become an enduring obsession for him.
Next up was the famous Plitvice Lakes National Park, a place so surreal it looks like Mother Nature went wild with a box of turquoise crayons.
Sixteen lakes flowing into each other in a series of breathtaking waterfalls—it’s the kind of beauty that gets seared into your brain for years to come.
If you ask me today what I remember most about Croatia, it’s those shimmering cascades in a palette of blues and greens. Absolutely magical.
I could have stayed there forever, but Thom and Zoe grew restless, demanding their next adrenaline fix.
Whitewater canoeing followed, and while the rapids weren’t exactly terrifying, they provided just enough thrill to keep things lively—and enough splashing to keep us cool. We felt like adventure royalty gliding down those cascades, even if it was more of a noble splash than a death-defying ride.
And then, the grand finale: a cycling trail from hell. Four hours of biking to see some caves and mountains.
Now, even though we lived in Amsterdam, the bike capital of the world, cycling and I had always maintained a respectful distance.
So there I was, on vacation, being forced to pedal my way through nature’s obstacle course. Survival mode activated.
While everyone else was grinning ear to ear, I was silently questioning all my life choices. But hey, the caves were nice.
Before we knew it, we were back in Zagreb, boarding our flight home.
To this day, when someone asks me about Croatia, I light up and say, “One of the most beautiful countries I’ve ever seen!”—thanks to those dazzling greens, blues, and turquoises that still color my memories. Just don’t ask me to bike there again. Ever.
