Dalmatian Cruise: Dubrovnik

Our visit to Dubrovnik was on Friday the 13th May last year. I tried not to think about the day because I am a bit suspicious about a few things; for instance, I won’t fly on a Friday 13th. Suffice to say that I didn’t have great vibes about the day, and despite not having the opportunity for a guided tour of the city, Susanne and I chose to walk around on our own rather than take an extended trip through the countryside and hopefully make it back in time to explore the city. (Which was probably a smart choice as friends who did, were delayed by traffic and road works and didn’t actually step inside Dubrovnik.)

A Turner sky as we sailed towards Dubrovnik

Looking back towards Split, early morning.

The most picturesque part of the day was as we sailed towards land at about seven that morning. The sky looked even more threatening than it had over Split, but I call these my Turners and am hoping that  an  artistic member of my family will create a painting from them.

Even from the ocean Dubrovnik seemed to be wealthier than the other ports we had visited. This might be because so many of the residences look fairly new. Everywhere I turned, up and down the coast, terracotta tiles and white or cream walls covered the hillsides, interspersed with trees.

Some houses came almost to the water, where moored boats presumably belonged to the property owners.

Rain and cloud envelop the bridge.

Our ship was turning, heading for the harbour opposite the glamorous homes when, through the rain, we saw a beautiful bridge, seeming to hang in space. With bad weather making further photography impossible, as well as threatening to give us colds, we retreated into our cabin for breakfast.

Breakfast. Even shared it was enormous.

By day four we learned to order just one cooked breakfast with two plates and cutlery as the kitchen staff seemed unable or unwilling to follow our requests for anything other than giant sized portions.

Our ship was moored some distance from the city so, after passing through the usual customs routine, we headed for one of the local buses which were lined up, waiting for us. A notice in our daily sheet had warned us that we’d have to buy a return ticket for about US$12, before leaving the ship.  Sometimes the organisation for such simple things struck me as ridiculous. Apparently our shuttle buses were supplied by the cities at earlier ports, but for Dubrovnik, a fifteen minute ride, we had to pay extra. Ship’s crew added everything else onto our bills; why not make it simple for all and just add on that fare too?

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