Mussolini made the trains run on time. I’m not sure that Admiral Horthy, the Hungarian WW2 leader, had quite the same effect on Magyar Rail. When I negotiated tickets from Budapest to Zagreb the lady behind the counter suggested we take the afternoon Inter City Express – Hungary’s finest. It would go straight to the destination, she said. Much faster than 3 Hours on a bus, she said. No stops, no changes, she said. The woman is a filthy Hungarian liar.

The Rosewood to Ipswich Express rail-motor only stops at Thagoona, Wulkuraka, and will also occasionally stop at Thomas St, but only if there are passengers who wish to disboard. We stopped at every Hungarian hamlet from Budapest to the border. There we were instructed to disembark, and were herded on to a bus. After nearly two hours we were once again herded out of the bus and on to a railway siding called Magzojokjli (or some such) only to have to wait for the next ‘express’ to Zagreb. After a journey of nine hours finally we arrived at Croatia’s capital. I hope the ticket lady has to eat the same lunch I had today.

However we do love Croatia. Zagreb was a tense place during the war with Serbia. Cluster bombs were dropped on outdoor markets during market days killing scores each time. The opera house and other landmarks were shelled -sixteen ballerinas were injured in one attack on the opera house. (Vicious fighters those ballerinas – no wonder the Serbs wanted to take them out of the war.) After the war there has been a slow but steady recovery. They were last a separate nation in 800ad and it has taken a wee time to get back to that, but it is something that is cause for great pride. Stick that up your nose Mr Milosovic.

Yesterday Ivana and Ksandro – the couple who own this apartment, drove us to Samobor, then to lunch at their weekender in the hills above the valley. I could live there. It might be a bit of a commute to Lofty, Charlie would need feeding, and the kinder would have access to our cellar and our cars – all arguments against. However to eat food that is grown by the people who sell it to you, to drink wine made by the people who sold it, to share a meal with the people who have just made an absolute killing renting their apartment to us is very special indeed.

Tomorrow we head for Ljubjiana, again by the ICE. This time I am prepared. I have practiced a smirk (a particularly difficult face to do my children) ready for the moment when the ticket lady suggests we take the Inter City Express. I have practiced the knowing smile for the moment when she says there are no stops. Then I will tell her that even the Rosewood to Ipswich express rail-motor sometimes stops at Thagoona. And Thomas Street. At that moment she will know that a man from Rosewood is not to be fooled.

Can’t wait.

Farley C-S