When I was eighteen years old, in 1965, I went with a bunch of girlfriends from the typing pool where I worked on a trip across Europe to what was then called Yugoslavia, currently called Croatia. We took a coach trip from England through the Netherlands, Austria, Italy and then caught a boat across the Adriatic Sea to Dubrovnik.
Dubrovnik is a walled city set above a crystal sea, or at least it was then. I remember looking down from the walls and you could see clearly the bottom of the ocean and fish swimming below. One of the problems in Dubrovnik, which is common in any old city is rats. I remember coming home after an evening outing with my friends when the city staff where hosing down the streets and we had to walk close to the edge of the walls and we could hear the rats chattering as we went by. We three girls were supporting our tour guide, a large plumb Belgian called Freddy, he was terrified of the rats but we thought it all part of the excitement.
That is where I met my first serious boyfriend, Terry, a sailor from Leeds in England. At least he was serious and actually came to visit my father in London to ask for my hand in marriage. How sweet, I don't think anyone does that these days. My father liked him and was quite ready to give the go ahead but I was not ready for marriage and children. I wonder if Terry ever thinks of me now, or if he is even alive. He had the most beautiful eyes with long curling lashes that any girl would have loved to have had, probably poor Terry is fat and bald now, such is life and aging.