But it’s not. It is as real now as it was when the wall around it first went up more than 1000 years ago.
Walking the walls of Dubrovnik, climbing up at a gate and then walking the whole circumference. Hey there, Dubrovnik, I have looked at you from all sides, I have circled you like a swallow. You are stunning!
from the wall
old chimneys, new roofs
from the wall
Ocean author, on the wall
A walled, car-less city that sparkles. It is Venice in that its survival (and demise?) depends on the tourist credit card. It is unlike Venice in that it is immaculate. A street made of marble stone, cream houses, many with new shingles (because the old ones were shelled during the war of ’91-’92), flowers in stone crevices, blue waters with visible pebbles at the bottom and fish throughout.
just outside the wall, an inlet
A young man scales the Dubrovnik walls and collects the plastic bottles that tourists tend to toss during their walk along the walls. Croats do their work well. But rarely do I see them crack a smile. I am beginning to think that history has given them too little to laugh about.
A break, I need a cappucino break. With a slice of cheese strudel. Followed by a quiet moment, studying a well placed orange tree inside a Franciscan monastery.
At dusk you have two choices: to sit down for some serious people watching or to be watched yourself. I choose the former. An aperitif out on the marble street. Colors of cream and orange again. I pay, leave a tip, always on the high end, I am sure of it, because there is always a look of surprise. Is that a good thing? Man, those Americans just throw their money around. Or: man, those Americans are cheap. Both are probably true. We tip well at home. Less so here. It seems we can't figure it out. Foreign customs are like foreign currencies. They confuse us. Best to stay home, tend to your own backyard. It's comfortably clear there.
campari based "summer festival"
The swallows use the long straight street as an aerial highway. They swoop down and fly away, quickly, quickly, only to return, sometimes in teams, sometimes alone. I'm remembering the small tattoo on my back. A swallow, poised upwards, in flight.
I remember being in Riga and leaving a few coins on the table after a coffee and pastry break, and the waitress running down the street after us trying to return our 'lost' money... But she was happy to have it once we explained.
ReplyDelete1) Dubrovnik is a pretty-sounding word too--at least to my ear, the way I pronounce it.
ReplyDelete2) Are those California poppies?!
3) The Summer Festival looks fabulous; have one for me! (I'll reimburse you later!) :)
4) Tipping drives me nuts! Why can't we all just say what we really want? (I learned on Gilmore Girls that--at least in the US--etiquette imposes no requirement to tip the owner of an establishment when the owner serves you. Just tip the help. Who knew? So if that's true in Dubrovnik too, you can save your tip $ to buy more drinks!) Regardless, I always tip 20% with a $2 minimum even when my total is less than $10. And I never leave pennies, nickels, or dimes. Quarters are good tho'. Quarters are worth more than $0.25.
WOW!!! always a great experience. Your writing and your photographs make it seem that I am walking and sitting besides you.
ReplyDeleteThanks!!
Your friend!
carly & chuck b.: often times in France or Italy, if you ask, they'll say service is not included in the bill, even though it really is. I was thinking that Croatia would be closer to that -- with so many tourists passing through Dubrovnik, but the fact is, the tourists are mostly Europeans and Europeans abroad tip even less than Americans.
ReplyDeletechuck b.: it is an aboslutely delicious combination of vodka, campari and orange juice. So you have the punch, the bitterness and just a touch of tangy sweetness. It is sublime! You are so on. Tonight's drink will be for you and on you! Many thanks!!
bert: as always, thank you, my friend.