Red roofs and sunshine

Ah, the coast. Saltwater. Blue seas. Horizons. Oh, yes - and sunshine!

View down from our apartment; our legs ached after awhile!

We rented a little car this past weekend and headed to Croatia, a drive of about 4.5 hours. Bill's pretty (well, beautiful) interpreter told us we HAD to go. On the way we saw the many stone villages and craggy mountaintops of Bosnia, some of which we explored and of which we will talk later. But with the rain hard on our windshield we had a focus: the arid hills and blue waters of Dubrovnik.

We came over a high hill and - the Adriatic! When we go to the ocean at home we tell the grandkids the first one to see the ocean gets a kiss from Nana, and since Bill saw it first this time, well, he got the kiss, no hardship here.

Red roofs from the city wall

Slightly lost, we wandered into Dubrovnik, parked and found our tiny sobe, or apartment, in the Old Town. It was magical: we were near the top of a skinny and cobble-stoned stairway. In the morning the neighbors were all hanging laundry via high pulleys, and we went out into a sliver of sky trimmed with jeans, socks and slightly tattered shirts.

Down, down, down to a coffee shop with espresso and cappuccinos - ah, heaven on earth. And the view: Italian cruise ship passengers lining up for photos by Orlando's statue, a wedding party with painful looking high-high-heels, oompa bands with Croatian flags ... couldn't you just sit in that cafe for your whole life???

But no, we needed to see the beach, the city wall, the clock tower with its metal automaton-men in helmets (named Mora and Bora) clanging away at the bell in a fateful hourly forever. And mostly, we needed to sit in the sun - and practice saying DU-brovnik, swallowing consonants as best we could.


 The stradum (main drag) was the best - mainly because we were there off-season, as we heard over and over from the locals. In the evening, the stones glowed. The church windows glowed. We probably glowed. If you get a chance, go to Dubrovnik.