Rab

I find it difficult to talk about Rab without thinking about Rab C Nesbitt - the string vest wearing Scottish alcoholic comedy character from the 1980s and 90s.

In truth, there is of course very little about this Croatian island that would normally conjure up images of an out of condition Glaswegian, but the weather on my first full day here did its best to remind me of Central Scotland. For the first time I can recall seeing during a Croatian summer, it rained and the temperature dropped considerably. Indeed a look at the weather showed that it was actually warmer and sunnier in London - which is probably the most annoying feeling on holiday apart from being robbed.

With the climate set to be scorching for the rest of the week in any case, I had resigned myself to a day of relative dullness just hanging out and reading books in the bars of Rab Town. Indeed it seemed everyone else had the same idea. Sat looking out over the harbour around lunch time, I noticed how almost everyone was just sat in bars drinking coffee or beer. Apart from the people serving the drinks, I could see no other evidence of activity at all. It made me wonder what on earth goes on here for the bulk of the year when the tourists aren't in town...

After a spot of lunch, the day took an unexpected turn when the rain disappeared almost immediately and the sun came out. Myself and scores of others vacated our expresso and lager swilling perches, and made our way out of the bars and into the streets of medieval Rab Town. What had destined to be a day indoors was transformed into an afternoon exploring the churches and towers of this lovely little place, which afforded stunning views of the sea and the island's backbone of hills.

The old town was great to walk around, but equally as enjoyable were the small beaches on the west side of it. This was Croatia at its best - pine trees providing a wonderful aroma as the sun dazzled on azure waters. There were lots of holidaymakers wearing German shirts after their World Cup victory over Argentina the night before, but this did not bother me at all. They just walked around with smiles on their faces. Can you imagine the behaviour in Ibiza or Majorca of English holidaymakers if we had won the tournament? They'd still be washing the vomit off the streets by the time of Russia 2018...

The only down side of my stay in Rab was my choice of hotel. The Hotel International, while comfortable and boasting impressive facilities, was far too family orientated. By this I mean the pool was overrun with screaming kids, who when they were not bursting the eardrums of sunbathers were running around the corridors from around 8am. If the children didn't wake you up, the cleaning staff - who started work at a similar time - would. They would descend on the corridor in groups, and start banging on people's doors to see if they could come in and clean as if they were trying to evict people from the hotel. When they were admitted to somebody's room they would make so much noise you could be forgiven for thinking Liam Gallagher and Pete Doherty were having a party next door. As if that were not enough, I have never known air conditioning to make so much noise and have so little effect. I might as well have shoved an ice cube up my arse and farted. Given one of the reasons I selected this hotel over a cheaper nearby alternative was the presence of air conditioning, this was annoying. Still, the breakfast was very nice...