TravelPod Member ReviewsRondina House Korcula Town
Nice enough place in a great location right on the water. Was advertised as a 2 bdr but was really only 1 bdr and a pullout couch.
This review is the subjective opinion of a TravelPod member and not of TravelPod.com.
TripAdvisor Reviews Rondina House Korcula Town
Travel Blogs from Korcula Town
We where woken up by a loud bang on the front of our boat as the boat next door manoeuvred his boat out his mooring area and gently collided with the front of our boat, fortunately there was no damage but Dianne let them know that they had woken her up with a very loud response from the foredeck, dressed in her night gear!
There was a lot of rock and rolling, then we realised it was because Jan and Merv were celebrating their 41st ...
Wow, time is flying by! It feels like we just got here and we have already wrapped up our visit to Dubrovnik and have settled in in Korčula for the evening. It took a couple days to get over the jet lag, but I think we're finally on a normal sleeping schedule. We're only a few days in but we can say for sure we'll be coming back to Croatia at some point. Dubrovnik was wonderful, and with its many many stairs quickly made us realize how out of shape we are. Just looking at maps ...
... and then took the tender boat to town. I walked around a bit – it was overcast and chilly. Everywhere I went, I would hear someone pointing at a house and saying "I think that’s the Marco Polo house." I have no idea which was the Marco Polo house, but surely I saw it somewhere. The town was pretty small, so after walking through and buying a magnet, I took the tender boat back and had a day of rest. I got ready, and went to meet Simon, Krista and Bobby ...
... to learn that Karen likes shopping and taking photos. We were also looking for a bar that Louise had told us about - it's in a tower, and you have to climb up a ladder to get to it. The views, however, we were told were beautiful.
Well, we found the bar. You do indeed have to climb - very glad I was wearing shorts, not a ...
... in front of me.
"Halloo!" the driver calls through a half-open window.
Attempting not to loom nearly as thirsty, sweaty or desperate as I can't escape appearing, I overcompensate and lift my DBRVNK with a painfully deliberate, nigh-twitchy, slowness.
He looks at me with unconcealed Germaninity, glances at my sign, matches my awkward smile and utters a single word.
I don't hear it the first time.
He tries again: "Međugorje?"