Day 8

Day 8 “Under the bell” You can tell when I post by the size of the type. If it is large, then I am writing in the morning when the room is dark, my eyes are blurry and I don’t have my glasses on. Well actually haven’t had them on all vacation. Makes it hard to read the menu but fortunately Croatia has English everywhere so usually I can figure it out. That sort of crystalizes something we have noticed but not figured out until maybe day 8. In 1973 when two naive bright eyed kids came down a rugged Dalmatian coast they discovered an amazing stone city on the Adriatic. Now of course we were not the first to discover Dubrovnik but there were not 20,000 others carrying iPhones on sticks discovering it at the same time. Not quite the same this time. The city was lovely and the water was just as blue but the crowds and just the Croatian-ness of it was missing. So Americanized. Sort of like you find a great foreign restaurant and then Rick Steves finds it, puts it in his book, the rest of the world descends on it, and before you know it, it is overrun and ruined. We wonder if the 1991 war just blew the ethnicity out of Dubrovnik and when the toxic fog of war lifted the 21st century swooped in and took its place complete with American music around every corner. Got up early and crammed all our getting dirtier stuff in a bag (some socks will never be white again). The start of a new day has to begin with a visit to Dolce Vita where we get the house specialty of Swedish pancakes wrapped around vanilla ice cream covered with fresh fruit, whipped cream, and fruit syrup - all washed down with coffee latte. Have grown to like breakfast. Then it is off we go. Sarah, you are a true friend. You could have been sleeping in or swimming but instead you make yourself come with us for breakfast and then help schlep our stuff up out of the Old Town to the car rental place. Hope a day at the beach is time enough to heal your tired feet. We get our little white Audi 3 TDI wagon and we zip north on an adventure to rediscover that hidden jewel on the Adriatic.

Not sure but I think we may have found it. 3 hours north of Dubrovnik is the Island of Hvar. After a short 30 min ferry ride, (we were just about the last car on, but more later on that one) we land at the south-eastern end. Our destination, Hvar City, is on the northwestern end, 90K away. Hvar is an ancient, long, skinny, rocky island. You can put the emphasis on any of those adjectives. Amazing net like web of huge rock walls covers the entire island. In the past (back to Greek ownership times) they served as property boundaries, and now serving mainly to boggle the tourist mind. Where there aren’t walls, there are piles, all meant to scrape a few square feet of soil to plant. Several years ago Kathie gave me an Audi driving school weekend for Christmas. The weekend consisted of mainly a 2nd gear racing experience. That’s not to say you went slow, just tore it up in second gear. Remember all those who got on, and therefore off, the ferry ahead of us? I sort of took that as a personal challenge. What if someone got to the gelato stand in Hvar City ahead of me? Sort of like the 24 hours of Le Mons only this was the 90 minutes of Hvar complete with 2 lane road (and I use the words 2 lane and road loosely) the occasional garbage truck, bus, bicyclists, lots of potholes, and an amazing long tunnel that likely cost me a win. I think if I only had that last mountain leg I could have caught and passed those last 2 motorcycles ahead of us. Oh well, handicapped as we were, starting in the last row and finishing 3rd isn’t bad and the gelato stand had lots to spare. Sort of found our apartment by Ouija board as Nuvi was on a break. Must have been too many j’s and z’s in the street name. Off for a quick explore of the old port town (now this is Dubrovnik 41 years ago) and then to dinner. Our host at the apartment recommended a restaurant at the top of the mountain overlooking the Adriatic with an amazing sunset view of the collection of small islands splattered like pancake batter in front of you. Makes for a natural protected harbor and great water taxi beach exploring. We will spend all tomorrow haunting the old town but for the rest of the evening we need to refuel. Our host has made reservations for us at dinner and preordered the traditional Croatian mixed vegetable and meat dish “under the bell”. For three hours an iron pot filled, and I do mean filled, with lamb, veal, potatoes, onions, peppers, eggplant, zucchini, and of course enough salt and garlic to make you eat the entire dish (serving for 6-7 people) is covered with a metal bell and glowing coals and simmers in a wood fired open oven. Talk about super-size me. But given 3 hours, a great sunset, superb wine and the best of traveling companion ever we made a gallant effort. Sort of like the road race to get to Hvar City. Almost finished the entire pot but left a little for the restaurant dog mournfully howling in the distance. Wound our way off the mountain in the pitch black dark and in bed at 8:30. This Croatian road racing/eating thing is exhausting. But, we could get used to it.