Despite the dire warnings of Manchester airport being clogged with queues for hours we got through pretty efficiently and were posted on to the Freebird airline. As we rather had anticipated the majority of passengers were of a retired age and we started scanning for people who looked lively. It’s difficult to make any judgement when squashed into an airbus.
I felt a bit more excited when we started to drop down into Croatia and could see very picturesque mountains ruckling the ground beneath us. Palm trees and paintbrush cyprus trees surrounded the coach bay where we were disgorged, and the air was a balmy 24C. This was quite unusual according to our guide Suad. It should be more seasonably wet and rainy.
The Grand Hotel just outside Dubrovnic was set just above a small pebbly bay and our first thought was to get in the water. The sun was just setting behind misty purple islands with a calm sea. Compared with the chilly Lakes the water flowed  like warm silk as we swam up and down. Being used to fresh water it was disconcerting, feeling so buoyant and keeping my feet under water instead of popping through the surface took a lot of effort. Anita, used to swimming off Whitstable, was more at home.
A walkway set into the rocky shore of the bay led us to a subterranean bar which had been hollowed out of the rock and contained inside it a natural cave with petrified fans and icicles of limestone. A lone cicada, the last of summer ,whined amongst the dark oleanders and sparse drifts of bourganvillia drooped over the rocky edges. The bright blinks of little lighthouses marked the islands stretching out into the sea and the night.
Altogether an auspicious start.