I’m out and about, attempting to get work done and also catch up on some lost time with old friends. As we have wandered about an unpronounceable Balkan map, we have managed to collect a bit of the life’s strange instructions for living. Here’s a bit of a look from Italy, Slovenia and Croatia…. 

A poster spotted in Padua, Italy. You’ve gotta respect a country that is up front about its…um, exploitable attributes. But you know what? After attempting tourist warfare in Venice, are so ready to visit Dhaka.

Again, a sighting in Padua. During this trip I found myself photographing many bathroom scenes (gents, now you know why we ladies bring our purses to the facilities). Here, I believe that toilet users are being discouraged from flushing the toilet.

Bears in the Plitvice National Park are not allowed between 11pm and 7am. 

A dinner menu in a Rovinj (Croatia) restaurant offers grilled goldfish. I stayed on the safe side and ordered the catch of the day, because I didn’t have my travel scalpel on me that would have sufficient deboned these guys.

While on the fine Croatian roads, we passed many a camper. This one had custom stickers on the side.

Man bathroom, Croatia.

Padua, Italy. This country is magical because their croissants are healthy and give you killer abs while reclining. I can’t wait to step on the scale when I get back and see how many pounds I have lost by consuming these every morning!

In the bathroom at the Kozlović Winery in Croatia. The cubicles have boxes with cheese graters sticking out of them…I’m not sure what this has to do with going to the bathroom.

Have I mentioned that these Slavic languages are hard? I find that while this sign is written in multiple languages, the deluge of word use completely blanks out my brain. Now you know how I can be rendered completely useless as a navigator…

However, while filling up at a gas station, my willpower was no match for the power of Macho Black Magic ice creams. 

At a Rovinj pizzeria joint. Here they do not allow you to wash your unmentionables in the restaurant commode. Damn.

The church at thee heart of Rovinj’s old town does not allow talking of any sort. My intrepid travel companion/sinner disagrees strongly with this rule.

Before climbing up a rickety old campanile in Rovinj, we found this sign at the bottom. You know how you figure that a sign is usually created because some jerkface has attempted to do exactly what the sign encourages? Yeah…

I think that after this trip, they will be creating more signs. Masphee jerkfaces are on the prowl!