Dubrovnik

Dubrovnik.

After a hectic early morning check-in process at Stuttgart, we landed in Dubrovnik, exchanged our money, got on the 15-minute bus ride to the old city walls, and were ready to explore. My first thought upon landing in this, my 22nd European country, was, of course, food. Who am I kidding? It’s always food. But my next thought was how green the countryside was compared to Greece. Sure, it was still dry – especially after this July, which was the hottest and driest on record for most of southeastern Europe – and sure large swaths of the nearby hillsides had completely burned in uncontrolled forest fires just the month prior. But, compared to Greece, it was green. It had trees (tall cypress to be exact…very reminiscent of Tuscany). It had bushes. And it had clouds, something we’d rarely seen the previous week.

After dropping off our bags and entering the old town, our first stop was a walk around the city wall. The old town of Dubrovnik, you see, was an old Slav and/or Venetian fortress (depends on who you ask) and needed to be protected from pirates, barbarians, and other vile sea parasites like the Spanish. (This is a shot taken from a jetty near the port).
Only recently did Kate’s father’s family (the Gargureviches) discover their ties to this historically Slavic city, home to many other Viches as we found out. (Interesting fact: The Republic of Dubrovnik was the first state to recognize the United States of America as a sovereign state. And since the Gargureviches were living in Dubrovnik at the time, I’m sure they’d be happy to know that their family lives on in this new land).
Anyway, all this is to say that one of the reasons we were there was to find out who we could talk to to learn more about the Gargurevich name.

But first, we had to be tourists.

The city is teeny tiny, about the size of a regular city block. But its slippery marble roads and alleys – untouched by cars (which couldn’t even fit through the gate if they wanted to) – along with the picturesque rickety old-world buildings made the city one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.

Not to mention the perfectly clear blue-green water surrounding the peninsula on which the city sits. Nor the numerous green islands, all with breathtaking rocky cliffs that have for centuries tempted brave and stupid men alike to jump into the sparkling waters below.

My favorite, though, were the buildings. The best way I can describe them is to have you picture a place like Pier 1 or Ethan Allen. Popular for some years now are the new but antique-looking products like clocks and 1920s advertisement wall hangings, which come pre-scuffed, weathered, or worn. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, ask a woman. She’ll know. Anyway, these buildings all had that old, weathered, scuffed, dented, and poorly repaired look – and I thought they were gorgeous.
Especially at nightfall.
Was it all a show for tourists? Perhaps. Although they did just get bombed less than 15 years ago, when they were still a poor Yugoslavian country reeling from the capitulation of communism!
Anyway, we didn’t do much this day but walk around the old town, take lots of photos, relax on the city beach, and eat. In keeping with his food-from-the-sea ritual, Antonio had the mussels and said he very much enjoyed them. Yum. Later that night it was gigantic pizzas from a place called Mea Culpa! Double yum.