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Waiting to See The Fairytale PrincessJackie had me up at the crack of dawn for our visit to Dubrovnik. We had to get the 9.30 water taxi from the harbour. The taxi runs every half an hour, but we had to get the first one because? Because Jackie felt that all the best visitor attractions would be gone by mid-morning. We ran to the harbour. Not the most pleasant experience I would have that day. The boat ride was exhilarating, taking around 40 minutes in a heavy swell. Weather was sunny and kind though.
The old town is fabulous. The harbour area... What? Oh; you want to know about the fairytale princess?
We took our grand-daughter, Alexis to Eurodisney, two weeks before we left on the trip. It was to be a surprise. Princess Aurora was duty fantasy creature that day. As we waited in the inevitable queue for an audience, we noticed up in front of us, two elderly couples from the Indian sub-continent. We had been waiting for an hour by the time they reached the front of the queue. The doorkeeper, another fantasy creature, asked if they were excited to see the Princess. What Princess? They asked in bewilderment. Isn’t this a ride?
That’s Dubrovnik in a nutshell. World-wide tourists clamouring to take pictures of a concept that seems alien to them. Or worse, getting to the front of the queue without knowing what’s up there. Maybe I do them, and Dubrovnik a disservice. It is marvellously preserved. Each succeeding civilisation has added to its beauty and charm. The Romans knew how to pick a site for a great harbour. The walls are massive, long, and all-encompassing. You can walk them for a mere 20 euros, though walk is putting it too strong. The numbers on the wall are such that it is a two hour shuffle. What’s worse, I ask myself: Having two hours to spare on a day trip, or having the excess cash to contemplate paying 20 euros when you can see the same view from the walls from within the walls. Enough negativity. Dubrovnik is worth the effort.
We had a wonderful lunch of fritto misto (fried, mixed fish and seafood), with an incredibly palatable bottle of Croatian white wine. Clouds began to appear. White horses galloped over the surface of the sea. A Banshee wail arose on the wind. And what little shelter there was became premium. It was hard enough standing, never mind taking a water taxi. All cancelled. This was such a phenomenon here that the Dubrovniks weren’t up to task. In the scramble for transport, we jumped the first bus, not knowing which way we were heading other than away from the maelstrom.
Fortune shone on us , we thought. Ten minutes later we were in a windswept Kupari. Home then... Home to an awning that had fought the rising wind until it snapped. The awning, that is. We moved to shelter between two other French motorhomes; big ones!
Pyjamas; dark rum; and an hour of playing cards rounded off our day, as we prayed for abatement so we could move on up to Albania
What an interesting account of your trip. Those photos are really good, brought back some of my own memories.
J E Skinner