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Published: July 22nd 2006
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Danijela
She and her family were so incredibly kind. On Wednesday morning I had a bit of difficulty getting from Korčula to Dubrovnik. I woke up super early and checked out of my private room (which, although still noisy from the restaurants below, provided ten times more sleep than the hostel. Though I did suffer from "school exam syndrome," where I sat straight up every 45 minutes or so, panicking that I had overslept, then realizing it was about 3:15 in the morning, and then settling back to bed in relief). I made the quick walk to the bus station as I ate my breakfast of fruit and juice, and was in line for 6:45 bus tickets by 6:30. And then the woman at the desk told me that the bus to Dubrovnik was full. Uh, crap. I really did not want to waste the day in Korčula by waiting for the 3:45 pm bus (I had already left my room and did not know if I could get back in, or where I would keep my backpack), and there wouldn't be another ferry to Dubrovnik for another 2 days. Hmm. I decided to hang around to see if maybe a backpacker with a ticket overslept and didn't show up:
Hooray for peacocks!
This one scared the crap out of me as it came from behind a bush. maybe there'd be an extra spot.
As we waited for the very tardy bus, I noticed the hostel's security guard sitting at a nearby cafe, and so went to sit next to him. He said, "It is good thing that you leave hostel. Last night was very bad, very loud. Police came by. Six girls leave, they say they cannot sleep. It very noisy. You know, Zlatko, he does not know why the people they are leaving. I say, 'Zlatko, you know, some of the people are not wanting to have the party all night.'" Excellent point, my friend.
Well, it turned up that the bus broke down somewhere, so a different shuttle bus came about an hour later. I managed to connive my way on board - yay! This bus took us to a local port where a different ferry carried us to Orebić, another smaller port on the mainland, where a bus took us the rest of the way to Dubrovnik. At the station there, I prepared myself for the swarm of older ladies that usually attack you with potential private rooms for rent before you even get off the bus. Amidst the crowd, I saw
Ferry from Lokrum
I am extraordinarily pleased with myself for finding a hat that matches my bikini. Pat on back, Beck. a huge, burly man (his fingers are twice the diameter of mine) towering over the rest of the women and holding a LG guide. I recognized his apartments' name from my own guide book, then decided that I didn't want to haggle with other people. Within a few minutes, I had agreed to Nicolo's offer, and his younger cousin, Nikša, was there in a car to take me to my room.
Which was absolutely nowhere near the old part of the city, but instead about a 10-12 minutes drive away in a hilly section of town called Babin Kuk. I was 1000x grateful for the ride, because if I would have had to walk with my pack in that heat, I would have collapsed. We drove up and up and up and up through this labyrinth of streets that didn't seem marked and all looked exactly alike. Finally we arrived at the place, where Nikša's older sister Danijela, who looked about my age, came out to greet me and show me in. Ahh... it was a nice, quiet room with its own private bathroom down the hall and a common room with a kitchenette. Danijela also told me that
Go Michigan rugby!
I run into Tim and Aaron yet again. if I ever needed to get anywhere in town, Nicolo, Nikša, or someone would drive me. Perfect. I celebrated by sleeping for 3 hours.
Later, Nikša took me down to Stari Grad, or the old town. Immediately I was overwhelmed: Dubrovnik was absolutely beautiful, but also much more hectic, hot, and tourist-packed than Korčula. I wandered around in a daze, taking photos and buying a sandwich. And then I started to feel lightheaded. And sleepy. And I
really wanted someone to talk to. Looks like I wasn't totally well yet. So I sat sulking for a little bit and then decided to stop being a moron and go somewhere cooler where I could sit until I felt better: surprise, an internet cafe. Once it started to get dark, I stopped to get some groceries at the supermarket (you have no idea how ecstatic I was knowing that in a few short minutes, I would be eating cold milk and cereal back at the room!), and Nicolo took me back. Danijela asked how my day had been, and I admitted that I still wasn't feeling 100%! (MISSING)About ten minutes later, she knocked on the door to our hallway and said,
Peek a boo
View of the port through the city wall. "My mother was so worried when you said you feel sick: she wants to know if you would like some hot tea or soup?" OK, HOW NICE IS THAT??? I was touched.
Turns out, it was only sleep that I needed, because by the next day I was fine. I took a small ferry from the old town to Lokrum island (a 15 min ride), which has beaches, an old monastery, a nature reserve, peacocks, etc, etc. I spent most of the day just basking like a chameleon on the rocks, reading my book, jumping in the water. Repeat. I also ran into the same girls from the Korčula hostel who had lost their Ł100: now sober, they were very nice and also said that they, too, had left the hostel a day early due to lack of sleep.
I shelled out a little bit too much for a snorkeling mask and tube, so I got to see the little fishies and coral while I was swimming. Yay. And
I actually went to the nude beach. Granted, it *was* closer to the end of the afternoon when not as many people were there, and Take a look
You can see the different colors of shingles. Some are newer and were added to repair damage from shells and gunfire. I *did* go to a more secluded rock shelf where I wouldn't have to be lounging with my naughty bits exposed with all my fellow nudists (most of whom appeared to be 60-year old men with big bellies. Hot!) But how man of you can say that you've been nude snorkeling? Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? LOL
Back on the mainland, I stepped into the old town to see a familiar sight. "Michigan Rugby!" I yelled. Sure enough, the same two guys I had seen in Split and Korčula were there in Dubrovnik as well. (Rugby Man, whose name is Aaron, assured me that he brought 3 of the same shirt along and had not been wearing the same sweaty, nasty tee for the past week straight). He, his friend Tim, and I decided to go walk the city walls together now that it had cooled off a little. It was crazy to walk around the high stone walls of the city and think that this was once a fortress, then look down at the interior and see people's backyards with laundry hanging to dry. It was also sobering that so much of the city had After a long hike up...
I can finally take my triumphant photo overlooking Dubrovnik! been damaged during the fighting in the '90s. You could see where shingles of roofs were different colors because the replacements after the war didn't match the original shade. A monastery's cloisters had been renovated after the damage, but on the inside of their museum was one remaining spot where a mortar shell had hit and exposed the underlying brick: as a remembrance, the small area was enclosed in a glass frame.
The trek around the walls took about an hour and a half, and by the time we returned to the main city gate, we were sweating. Tim and Aaron wanted to go to the Irish Bar. Tim deadpanned, "After all, what goes together better than an Irish pub and Dubrovnik, Croatia?" (At least he saw the irony in that). I joined them for one drink (a water - I'm still playing it safe here with the cold!) and then headed back to the apartment.
Next chapters: Mostar; My Beginnings as a Translator; and Lord, Why Must All Hot Australians Travel in Opposite Directions from Me?
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Anka
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I want to go back to Dubrovnik...