VENICE CROATIA DAY 12 The Wedding Happened in Dubrovnik

 

But it wasn’t ours.

The early morning Krilo ferry to Dubrovnik takes over 3 hours.  We cab it to the Ploce (PLO-see) Gate of the walled city where we meet Jon, our host and owner of the 7 room Byron hotel.  There are no cars allowed in the Old City, so Jon has arranged for a porter to carry our once-again overpacked bags.  The Byron is in a converted 300-year-old building down one of those impossibly narrow alleys that we’re so fond of photographing (and whose pictures are plaster all over this blog), so it’s nice to finally have a chance to stay in one.  Our room, The Cathedral,  has windows onto the alley on one side and overlooks the famous domed Dubrovnik Cathedral from the other.

We drop the bags and head out to explore.  We wander randomly, cutting up an alley with a crazy long, steep, uneven flight of stairs.  Every few stairs up, there a door to another home on one side or the other, a three-dimensional wonder I can only guess has been designed by Dr. Suess, Architect.  At the top we bump into Lady Pi-Pi, one of the restaurants Jon recommended, we stop in for lunch.  While waiting to be seated, we take a picture of one of the funest ancient fountains we have ever seen.

Our table is on the top terrace, and our seats have a nice view of the city from this perch.  I order the Pi-Pi salad and out loud the playful waiter shames my pronunciation. “It’s not pie-pie.  It’s named after the lady out front” he says with a wry grin.  Ohhhhhhhhhh, we figure out… pee pee.  Lunch was good.

Walking back down, we stop in the War Photo Museum.  Admittedly, we avoid overly serious places when on vacation, but because of the very recent history of Croatia, we feel this deserves our time and attention.  To catch you up, in 1991, Croatia declared independence from communist socialist Yugoslavia.  Serbia did the same at the same time.  The brutal Bosnian War ensued.  From 1992 to 1995 the civil war among Serbs, Croats and Bosnians raged on, the bloodiest event in Europe since World War II, extinguishing an estimated 100,000 souls.  The museum captures the cruelty and ray brutality of modern war through the lens of photojournalism, and does so without political agenda or editorial.  the current exhibits are an exposé on two very recent conflicts:  War in Ukraine and The End of Yugoslavia.  We did not think it was appropriate to take pictures inside the museum (hell, even I have a little decorum), but here’s a link to the museum’s website: https://www.warphotoltd.com/  It’s worth a visit if you’re ever in the neighborhood.

Almost back to the Byron, we walk past the Cathedral.  Spilled out from the front doors, onto the streets, and into the outdoor restaurant across the way is a big wedding, their energy infectious, and not bothered at all by us and a bunch of other tourists hanging around the edges.  We head upstairs to nap, but half an hour later we’re awakened by the sounds of very loud singing and it smelled like the building was on fire.  It took us a few minutes to realize that the wedding had kicked up a gear.  Walking in this morning Jon had told us that Saturday was wedding day in these parts, and pyrotechnics were a big part of the celebrations.  It turns out that weddings in Croatia are a week-long celebration, with family and friends involved in daily festivities, most of which involve alcohol, fireworks and road flairs.  The joy was undeniable, even if the bride, groom, flagsmen and the entire wedding party was completely obscured in the thick gray smoke.  I am 100% bringing a truck safety kit to the very next wedding I am invited to as this tradition will play great back home.

We cab it to the top of the Srdj Hill to Konoba Dubrava, a locals restaurant far above the Old Town walls.  It’s in a secluded grove of trees with a gravel parking lot and indoor and outdoor seating.  Konoba Dubrava is known for their Dalmatian Peka, dishes cooked over a wood fire under a cast iron bell.  We’re seated outside and for the first time during our trip the night is cool.  Not bad considering it’s the last day of September.  The atmosphere is lively.  In one of the biggest rooms, there was our second wedding of the day, guests spilling out to smoke, chat and cool down from all the dancing and singing.  Across the courtyard is what appears to be a bachelorette or birthday party, a long table of attractive, smartly dressed women in their early 30s laughing and enjoying the evening.  Our waiter, who insists on calling Mandy “Lady”, takes our order and departs with a “Yes Lady, thank you Lady”.  Another liter of house white wine, perhaps our 20^th of the trip is delivered and we start our own celebration.  When our mixed meat Peka is delivered, our waiter stages the table and insists that “I’ll take your picture please, Lady”.  He’s done this before.  It’s nice.  The breeze kicks up, the temperature drops a few more degrees and we ask for a check.  “No, no, you can’t leave yet.  It’s Saturday.  We have live music starting!” is our waiter’s response when he returns with blankets to warm us from the outside and homemade grappa to warm us from within.  The band rolls in, and it’s different than a band setting up at an American bar when dinner service is winding down.  It’s more of a Croatian Mariachi band, acoustic guitar, acoustic bass guitar and accordion players, going table to table.  They start at the bachelorette table (hell, I would have 😊), and do 4 or 5 what we assume are Croatian classics based on the enthusiasm and volume with which the entire restaurant sings along.  Just another Croat Saturday night. 

We Uber it back to Old Town and the crowds are gone.  It’s peaceful and beautiful and dramatically lit.  At the top at stairs at St Blaise’s Church is a jazz quartet, so we stop and listen for a bit.  We head down Stradun, the wide main street of town.  The walkway, like so many we have seen this trip, are made from the regional limestone which have become so highly polished over the centuries that they always appear wet.  At the far end of the street, by the Pile Gate is the Large Onofrio Fountain.  Yes, that’s right, you heard it here first… Onofrio Fountain.  It’s named after the Italian engineer who built the water system in the early 1400s that brought clean drinking water to the city.  To this day, this fountain has 16 running spouts where you can fill your water bottle or just drink right from the faucet.  We take advantage of the late hour to get a pic, just me and my namesake monument.

THAILAND SINGAPORE AFTERWARD: Reflections During The 40 Hour Day

Breakfast at the Maxwell Reserve is a very British Colonial affair, I do say.  Even my best manners seem somehow lacking.

At the airport, we have the Grab driver drop us off at the entrance to the Jewell, the facilities integrated high-end mall.  By high end, I mean Porsche has their own café.  That kinda high end.  We have plenty of great shopping at home, plus our bags are stuffed, so we’re not here for a designed monogramed anything.  We’re here to score the last waterfall of the trip.  The Rain Vortex is the world’s tallest indoor waterfall, dropping some 131 feet through an indoor 7 story forest valley.  I can only imagine the pitch meeting.  “You know what this airport REALLY needs???”  The flow starts at 10am to much fanfare, which we take in with big smiles.  It really has gotten expensive to entertain us.

We walk the connector to Terminal 3 and bypass the airline lounge.  We opt instead for the terminal’s butterfly garden because “You know what this airport REALLY needs???”  Yes, if you’re going to put an actual living butterfly garden in an airport, I’m damned sure gonna stop by. 

From there we take a leisurely walk to the gate where the civility continues.  We’re flying direct to JFK, a scheduled 18 hours.  Since we’ve been here, Israel and the USA have started a major offensive against Iran, a place we flew directly over on our trip in.  Either by original plan or by inciteful rerouting, today we’re going the other way home, our flightpath over the Pacific, Alaska and Chicago. 

Once again, Singapore Airlines proves its status as one of the world’s best.  Our meals included, in no particular order, chicken satay, Wagu steak, and lobster thermidor.  Wines included a 2016 Chateau Livran Bordeaux and a fine Spanish Alberino.  Somehow after a 17 hour flight, and a 40 hour day (with the time change), you still wish you had a little more time in your pod. 

We’ve been home for about a week when I am writing this.  With some time to think on our time in Asia, here are some random reflections.

The Thai people are some of the kindest we have ever met anywhere in the world.  When our friends ask us “how was it”, all our stories are about the people we had the privilege to spend time with. 

We absolutely fell in love with Chiang Mai.  Mandy says she felt like a traveler in Phuket and Krabi, but felt like she was at home in Chiang Mai.  It could easily be a sister city to our beloved Philly, historic and hardscrabble with undertones of constantly reinventing itself.

Even though we’re not religious, we were moved by many of the Buddhist temples.  Their beauty and sense of peace provide a calming effect on your soul. 

Our time at the Farmstead was absolutely the most authentic thing we have ever done on a trip.  Definitely not for everybody, but if you’d like to experience how these rural tribes live, it is very much available.  A few days we will talk about always.

We were a bit conflicted about doing an elephant experience, having heard stories of cruelty and even abuse.  We are very glad we did this for ourselves.  I’m not sure how it used to be, but the people who run the preserves now absolutely dedicate their lives to the bonding, care and protection of these regal beasts.   

We understand why Krabi and Phuket are so popular.  Beautiful, hot weather, great food, incredibly affordable.  But if we were in the neighborhood again, we’d plan on doing nights further from the busy hubs.

It’s no surprise Singapore Air is so good.  It’s just like the rest of Singapore.  Well designed, well engineered, well practiced.  Proper, polished and polite by plan.

Can’t wait to go back!