Dubrovnik

The weather gods smiled on us today as we sailed into Dubrovnik in the bright early morning sunlight.  Dubrovnik and its fantastic Old Town, a medieval limestone town completely enclosed within ancient walls.  We were quickly up on the ramparts walking along the entire perimeter of the town, and were rewarded with glorious vistas of the Dalmatian coastline as well as a bird's eye view of life within the walls. 

Dubrovnik glows with a fairytale quality and getting lost within the pedestrian-only maze of narrow streets leads you to architectural treasures and unexpected daily life scenes, like the nun watering her terrace garden, or the boy chasing a cat among some ruins, or the mother hanging her laundry to dry under the orange trees.

The town was heavily damaged by shellfilre during the war in the early 1990s but it was quickly rebuilt and repaired.   Among the ancient buildings a recent memorial to the fallen fighters can be found; gazing at the walls lined with pictures of the young men who died during the war brings tears to my eyes.

The placa (pronounced platsa) is the wide, straight main street; flanked by high end shops and inviting cafes, it takes visitors from one end of town to the other.  Two gates control entry to the town and were once fitted with drawbridges (the bridges themselves are gone now but the workings remain). The Pile Gate is the main gate and is located on the land side of town, the Ploce Gate is located on the sea side.  Red tile roofs and turquoise waters paint a beautiful memory of Dubrovnik. 

Split

Difficult seas make for a fortuitous change in sailing plans; the captain announces that the we will skip the port of Sibenik in favour of Split.  Split is home to Diocletian's Palace; dating back to the early fourth century it was built as a retirement home for Roman Emperor Diocletian but, being the soldier that he was, his home is a complete fortified town encompassing temples and palaces, shops and dwellings.  Egyptian treasures are scattered about; pink granite marble columns and a headless sphynx grace the entrance to the temples of the various Roman gods.

The basement is a marvel of tall, vaulted connecting caverns, its layout mimics the rooms above.  It is damp and several degrees colder down here but the ghosts of the past linger in the company of stray cats who call the palace home.  The palace grew and expanded throughout the centuries surviving a multitude of invasions and is now a living monument embodying the Croat spirit.

Later we walk the streets of Split, down the seawall where active building of what will likely become a beautiful promenade is taking place. 

Back on board we have a very nice dinner - the main dining room has been consitently great and we have been regularly invited to tables hosted by various officers and members of the entertainment team.  A variety show follows and, as usual, we enjoy a few dances in The Club.

Rovinj

Today we tendered in Pula but were soon off to Rovinj with Julia and Chuck.  We took the local bus to this enchanting town about an hour away from Pula and enjoyed a wonderful day in this historic old town, including a delicious lunch in the cutest of restaurants, which we had all to ourselves. Rovinj has a larger than usual old town, perfect for slow, meandering walking tours.  Winding our way up to the top of the hill, where the Cathedral stands with a commanding 360 degree view that extends forever, we discover local artists lovingly creating their crafts. Back down, we go to the market and add a few pounds to our luggage in the form of jars of truffles and truffle oil, honey and homemade brandy.

Later on we walk along the marina and discover lovely beaches surrounded by forest.   There are families taking the dog for a walk, there is an old lady feeding a dozen stray cats.  This is the kind of town we can see ourselves spending several weeks in.

Back in Pula we visit the Roman Amphitheatre; marvelously conserved it is a fine example of its Roman past.

Tomorrow we arrive in Venice, our final destination and now, back on board, the dread of packing sets in.