The ‘Sail Croatia’ phenomenon and why it's taking young Australians by storm.

Long have young Australians been doing the Contiki Europe tour. Longer have they been doing the live-in-London thing. Well there's a new cliche on the block; 'Sail Croatia'.

Most Australians had never thought, nor perhaps even heard, of Croatia until the whole Brit Lapthorne misfortune. I know when I told people I was heading there, the only response I heard from my gen-X consorts was "Croatia?! Why? You're not going to Dubrovnik, I hope. You'll end up rolling on a river somewhere." However, my fellow Gen-Ys asked another; "You're doing 'Sail Croatia', yeah?"

Well yes, yes I was. Like thousands of other Australians, I was planning to set sail with 20 other (evidently also Australian) young folk for a week of gambolling sailing fun. I was finally going to see what all the fuss was about.

We got to the boat on the first day in Split and squeezed into our quaint little cabins excited at the prospect of spending eight days sleeping on this dizzying house of fun, and showering over the toilet while trying not to fall in it. We'd heard drinks on board were expensive, so just to be party to another cliché, we sneaked some vodka aboard.

We met the crew and our new roomies for the week (in my case, my three friends, an Aussie girl currently living in the UK, and sixteen 19-year-olds who all went to high school together in Brisbane - great), and set sail to our first destination; Hvar.

This set the tone for the week of partying ahead - hanging out with your own friends all day, until you had a few tequila boom-booms and felt like talking to the other people on your boat, or if you were really really brave; people from another boat.

After somewhat slightly getting to know your fellow sailors, and the others in the fleet, day two en route to Mljet was a bit more comfortable. The days on board the boat are spent lazing on top deck getting sunburnt, perhaps reading for entertainment, checking out who has cellulite and who doesn't, and salivating like Pavlov's dogs when you hear the lunch bell.

As one who had never experienced motion sickness before, I can't say the first few days eating aboard the boat were great - but you get used to it.

Usually after lunch there is a swim stop (they were quick to tell us Aussies that there are no sharks in the Adriatic) and then it's fix up, look sharp, time to hop off the boat (after skolling some of the sneaked-in vodka of course) and head out into the real world again. By 'real world' I mean bars frequented by tourists doing the exact same tour under a different name - you probably won't see an actual Croatian person.

This goes on for eight days, through Dubrovnik, Korcula, Makarska, Omis (don't worry, I've been there and I don't even know how to pronounce them) and back to Split - or a slightly different route depending on the tour company.

Highlights were kayaking in the national park in Mljet to St Mary Island, walking the walls of Dubrovnik  and watching people attempt to cliff dive while being taunted about the possibility of becoming a paraplegic, and getting our feet wet in the cave nightclub in Makarska.

Despite my sarcasm, it was a great week. Was it the best week of my life as I had so eagerly anticipated? No. But it was a lot of fun. It would be pretty hard not to have fun in a confined space with 20 other young people and vodka, so the fact that we were in Croatia was really of no consequence.

It's an easy way to travel, have fun, and meet people, without really leaving your comfort zone, and without having to organise any sight-seeing, meals or accommodation for a week. If you want to see and experience Croatia and get involved in the local culture, don't do this tour. If you want to drink with a bunch of twenty-something Aussies, swim and sunbathe everyday for eight days, and probably piss off some locals, but still have a smashing time; then this is the thing for you.

It's something I'm extremely glad I did and (though each morning my memory of the day before was wiped clean) it's an experience I'll never forget. But could I have had this exact experience cruising down the Murray-Darling? Probably. And I'd have had more money left over for some better quality vodka.