Donji Humac

The Adriatic - Bol

The place we are staying at in Bol is owned by a guy named Marinko. Ha!

Zuke, Neats and I met with more of the Marinkovich family in the village our grandfather grew up in - which is one of the oldest settlements on Brač, Donji Humac.

Zuke, Dario, Don, Jakša

Unfortunately I completely forgot to take a pic or copy of Zukes family tree, but we met the brothers Jakša and Dario from Antes side of the family is that right dad? Jakša speaksa da english (he and wife Ingrid and kids lived in Oz for a while), and they live in the old house. He's all over the family history of the area so it was a crash course in Marinkovich ancestry - aided by the petrol strong walnut liquor Jakša makes and poured for us to sample. Please, nobody breathe around any naked flames.

Marinkydinkys represent

After Jakšas fairly convincing and lengthy discussion on the superior taste of Brač lamb - it's killed younger, cooks better in small pieces, not so strong etc etc, a call was placed to the local restaurant Konoba Kopacina to ensure our meal was ready when we turned up.



It's literally a 1 minute walk from the house, and on the way we stopped to listen to the dulcet tones of the local choir (klapa) practicing -  in silence we stood on the stairs as the sound of angels floated down to meet us. They sing the traditional folk songs which have always been an integral part of the lives of the Dalmatian people. Anita and I joked they could always come and serenade us at dinner, that'd be nice cheers.

So with Marinkdinky hill in the distance, surrounded by grape vines and locals, we walked in to the restaurant (which once housed the old school our papa went to), passing our lamb sizzling on the spit.

We shared the most delicious rustic meal of lamb cutlets (Jakša was right), crispy jacket potatoes smothered in the local olive oil, crunched on whole spring onions dally styles, and a fresh green salad. And wine, this time mixed with a dash of water which just loosened it up perfectly.

And guess what. The klapa group turned up. They sat down at the table next to us, a group of 6 local boys in their 20's sat down and sang. It will forever be one of our most memorable evenings.

Not sure if this wee sample of klapa will work

When we stood outside the church on our way home, the bells rang out.
This is one very special place

The bells are ringing!

And just incase you're wondering...
'Hey Neats are you bored with all this Marinkydinky stuff?'
'Oh God no. It's been awesome, I'm enjoying it.'

After all she's been around dallys all her life. Not to mention married to one, aye Jay. X