Lots of guidebooks – which, admittedly, are often known for their bum steers – advise that young females traveling alone in Croatia should exercise discretion as they may encounter (male) hostility. After a few days in the country we felt, though – history aside – that the Croats might need to work on their menace a bit. I’ve felt more threatened by a rolling pin.

Walking from the ferry port up to our rented apartment on the first day, we were feeling pretty disgusting. We’d barely slept in 48 hours (well, not comfortably), definitely hadn’t showered in as long, and were cranky, dirty and sweaty as we lugged our packs up a hill in 38 degree heat.

Suddenly a group of four or five local guys spotted us and started whistling and calling out the usual sleazy ‘bella’s etc (but in Croatian obviously).

I don’t know what reaction they were expecting but it sure wouldn’t have been the one they got. Having reached absolutely the end of our tethers, we stopped in our tracks, dumped our packs unceremoniously at our feet, and let fly.

The sanitised version went something like this: ‘Are you ****ing SERIOUS?! These legs have not been shaved since last summer! How bloody desperate can you BE?” The guys, who clearly spent their entire monthly wages on hair gel, looked taken aback for all of about two seconds then said “Oh. Do you need some help with your bags then?”

Instead we heaved our packs back on with as much dignity as we could muster and marched off grimly, stepping over dead cats and grubby children in doorways as we passed. So much for menace.