Dubrovnik, Croatia

3rd June 2014

After a quick breakfast we checked out and were met by Leo our driver who would be driving us to Dubrovnik. Leo was a very fascinating man with many talents and an interesting history. He was widely traveled and had served in the Croatian army. He kept us riveted with his stories and experiences as we drove the infamous steep winding road from Hvar town up and through the island on to Sucuraj. When Leo found out that we had not had the opportunity to do a wine tour and savor the local wines, he was quite disappointed. Within minutes he had made a phone call and in one swift turn we detoured on to the sleepy town of Jelsa where the famous Dubokovic family had resided for generations and their Medvid wine was very famous.  Turning up at the small winery, Leo got the key from under the mat and took us into the cellar filled with huge oak barrels. 

We were given an informal tour and tastings. It was only 10:00am but that did not stop us from sampling all the different wines. We bought a few bottles as well as the homegrown, flavored olive oils. After this brief but enthralling diversion, we headed back on the sharply curving roads hugging the sides of the cliff that precipitously dropped down to the sea.

Upon reaching Sucuraj we watched the ferry smoothly lumber into the harbor and all the vehicles stealthily creep on board. We had taken so many ferries and boat rides in Croatia and each one was so memorable and special. This ride too brought a smile to our faces as we enjoyed the fresh, cool air lifting our hair off our shoulders and lifting our spirits. Sitting near the bow of the boat, we felt exhilarated and soaked in the spectacle of the frothy waves scalloping over the turquoise waters.

We reached the small town of Drevnik. From there we got into the car and started the scenic drive to Dubrovnik. 
We passed olive groves and small family owned vineyards. As we drove on the winding road ,the coastline fringed the road as we headed farther down south. The transparent, aquamarine waters just would not stop amazing me. On the way was the town of Neum, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s only coastal town and approach to the sea. The border crossing was perfunctory and swift. When we were closer to Dubrovnik, just turning a corner around the mountainside we saw the slender and dramatic Franjo Tudman Bridge standing majestically over the coastal inlet, and easing the traffic that would have accumulated along the lengthy, curvy road around the bay. Driving into the city we were suddenly taken aback by the population, traffic and congestion. I guess the serene, quaint streets of the island and small towns that we had visited so far had spoiled us. We drove around the old city walls and were amazed by the throng of tourists even though the bulk of the crowds would not arrive until a couple more weeks. We drove along the Gruz bay which is now home to Dubrovnik’s main port and ferry terminal, and at all times small anchored boats and schooners were studded around the inlet.

We checked into the Hotel Lapad and even though the staff was polite they were steeped in the big-city standoffish attitude. Via a couple of elevators and corridors we found our way to our rooms. Stepping out on the tiny balcony, we could see a glimpse of the bay by craning our necks. We saw a couple of majestic cruise ships docked there, which signaled that the crowds in the old town were going to be that much more. The enthusiastic ship passengers would be eager to take advantage of their day in Dubrovnik.

After settling in we headed out to grab a light meal. When we asked the concierge for recommendations, we were guided towards large, touristy restaurants, which we wanted to avoid. We walked around to explore ourselves and we came across a casual restaurant with outdoor seating called Restaurant Buono. After our casual and satisfying lunch, we boarded bus no.5 to do an impromptu sight seeing tour without getting off the bus. Later in the evening we took the bus again but this time we followed the crowds through the Pile gate of the stonewalls into the old town and were just transported into a medieval town infused with glamour and character. 

In spite of the swarms of the tourists around, the magic of the main street Stradun was quite evident right away. Walking on the gleaming flagstone streets smoothened by the heaving crowds we could sense that this was the very heart of this walled city. Street performers, tour groups, chattering school kids; camera-aiming visitors all participated to provide the ultimate ambience of the environment.

We were a little bored by the typical Croatian food which although was very fresh, was steeped in bland traditionalism and by this time in our trip, we were craving some spices and some flavor. Up one of the narrow streets we ate at Azur at one of their many outdoor tables. The different Asian-fusion food was just the right treat we were looking for at this time.

After dinner we started to explore around a bit more and just by chance came upon a narrow arched opening in the walls and ducking through there, we were greeted with a tiny café perched precariously on the cliffs. We looked around in wonder. It seemed like we were simply guided here with no previous plans or knowledge. The views from here were quite breathtaking with the moonlight shimmering over the water and a few patrons enjoying the magical evening. We were delighted with our find and were determined to be back during the day to enjoy the panorama. We later found out that this was the famous Buza Bar –II or the Bar Bard.
 
We spent some more time meandering through the tiny streets and after the customary gelato that so many seemed to be indulging in, we headed back to our hotel happy with our first night in this delightful town, appropriately belonging to the UNESCO world heritage list.

4th June 2014

The somber staff at breakfast did not curtail our enthusiasm the next morning because we were eager to set off and explore the old town in detail and in the daylight. The kids had not woken up for breakfast and the first thing they wanted to do was eat an early lunch of a different cuisine. Knowing it might be a tourist trap we went to the ‘Oyster & Sushi Bar – Bota’. The sushi was fine and the other seafood dishes were quite well prepared. It was nice to enjoy a leisurely meal before the lunch crowd descended upon the small restaurants and cafes. I realized that this restaurant had the same name ‘Bota’ that was the name of a famous restaurant in Ston and we wanted to go to Ston, which was about an hour or so away from Dubrovnik and reputed to be the oyster harvesting capital of Croatia.  I asked the waiter if he knew how we could get to Ston and do a oyster harvesting tour and he pointed out to the young man sitting at the next table. The man happened to be the owner of both restaurants and after chatting with him, he organized the drive and tour for us. We told him we wanted a knowledgeable guide and a nice tour and he was happy to oblige.

Thrilled with our new and unexpected plans, we then set off to explore the old town.
We decided that the best way to experience the nuances of the old town was to purposely get lost in the charming alleyways and wander aimlessly glancing into people’s windows, and strolling past small cafes and fish restaurants. 

The architecture and the layout of the houses seemed different from one side of the Stradun to the other. One side was more compact with smaller houses but the south side boasted larger homes and many with lush lawns and vegetable gardens. It was fun to explore with no agenda at all. It seemed we could activate all our senses to navigate our hearts to wherever we wanted to go.
 
Back at the Stradun we reached the cathedral and my husband went in to admire the beautiful ceilings. 

My daughters and I were chilling out on the steps along with many other happy tourists when we experienced our first horrific incident in Dubrovnik.

Two policemen ambled up to us and I smiled at them politely but very grimly they turned to me and asked me for my ID. I was taken aback! This came out of nowhere. I asked them why they needed my ID and the older, more serious and perhaps senior policeman refused to answer maybe because he did not know English or he preferred to not speak it. I asked over and over again why they needed my ID and the younger policeman kept repeating that he needed to see it and would not give me an explanation. 

I was not getting worried as yet, but just began to feel uneasy. My daughter offered to go get my husband from within the cathedral and as she turned around to go up the steps, the older policeman sprang up and blocked her way and gestured for her to stay still. Not liking the way this was progressing I asked them if they thought we had done something wrong, or were they mistaking us for someone else. He kept repeating he wanted to see my ID or my passport.

 I didn’t want to argue any more with them and I took out my New York state license and handed it to them, assuming that this would satisfy them and we would be done with this whole debacle. I was horrified to see that he started noting down my ID details on his notepad. This got me alarmed and I tried to take my ID back but he waved my hand away. People around were staring and pointing and talking amongst themselves and some were even video taping this whole encounter.

I began to feel victimized and felt that my daughters and I were being targeted for no apparent reason. I started to raise my voice demanding to know why we were being questioned, and what made them pick us out amongst a horde of tourists. Still not getting an answer out of them, I loudly challenged them if we were being scrutinized due to racial profiling. That made the young police officer very uncomfortable and he tried to deny it a bit too vehemently. Picking up on that clue, I declared loudly for all to hear that not only was this discrimination, but we were being targeted just because of our skin color...this was preposterous... this was no way to welcome and treat tourists in their city...we had done no wrong and they had no business to question us without any lawful reasons. 
People were now very curious and were huddling around trying to figure out what was happening. Finding a little courage from the many concerned faces I continued my ranting, declaring that I was an American citizen and they had no business to question us without a cause. My hands were shaking but I clenched my fists so that my fear would not be apparent.

I started off up the stairs to go fetch my husband and again the senior policeman tried to block my way but I found the courage to shout at him that I was going to get my husband and he better not stop me.
 
I stormed inside the quiet cathedral and found my husband blissfully sitting on one of the pews gazing up at the ceiling in calm serenity.  I urgently tapped him on the shoulder and gesticulated to him to come out immediately, but he slowly smiled and shook his head conveying that he was happy there and did not want to leave. At another time perhaps I might have found the situation amusing but I was not wasting any time then.  I got him out of there in the most civilized way I could under the circumstances, short of yanking him by his collar and dragging him out with me.
 
Quickly I explained the situation to him as we went to stand by our daughters and the two policemen. Again I insisted on my license and the policeman just ignored me but my husband who quickly grasped the situation, just as quickly snatched the license out of his hand.

Like the perfect papa bear of a family who was being threatened, he squared off against the policeman puffing out his chest and shouting in his face for an explanation. His loud voice and challenging demeanor, as well as the growing number of video taping bystanders began to get a little overwhelming for the policemen. They suddenly declared that they did not need to question us any more and they set off down the steps as suddenly as they had approached us. We stood stunned and shaking still not believing what had just occurred. 
My younger daughter was quite distressed and as I turned to calm her, my husband decided that he was still not done with this spectacle ,and needed explanations.
 
He began to charge down the steps towards the policemen who were now nonchalantly strolling in the square. He marched up to them and bellowed in their faces for an explanation. Watching the scene from the top of the steps we began to get alarmed by how quickly this could escalate into something ugly. My daughters and I rushed down to pry him away from the scene and with a little bit of difficulty we managed to do that.

In today’s modern age of technology I was glad to see the number of cameras recording everything, because it gave me this sense of not being all alone in this unpredictable situation.

We just took off in the opposite direction from where the policemen were, and just blindly walked off our anger, fear and frustrations. We still could not understand what had happened and more importantly why it had happened. But I had no desire to question the police in another country, and I was just happy to know that we were merely emotionally scarred but otherwise okay.

After cooling off a bit we decided we needed a tranquil seascape setting to calm our nerves and decided to head off to Buza Bar II, the cute café we had discovered the night before that was balanced on the uneven cliffs jutting over the sea. Barely recovered from the first incident we had no idea we were unwittingly walking into our next horrifying mishap.

Ducking under the tiny archway, we entered the entrance to the café marveling at the vista in front of us. The scene was so beautiful it was almost surreal. We waited to be seated but there did not seem to be much staff around, just one harried gentleman behind the bar and another one running up and down the rocks serving the happy customers enjoying the gorgeous day.

It was a bright and beautiful day but the sun was directly overhead. Most of the umbrellas were occupied but we found a nice spot with four chairs and a closed umbrella along side. We waited for the waiter to come over and help us open the umbrella but he did not seem in any hurry to offer assistance so my husband figured out how to open and secure the umbrella. We ordered our drinks and heaved a sigh of relief to be in that beautiful surrounding – the perfect atmosphere to get over the appalling episode with the Croatian law enforcement officers. The blinding blue of the seas rejuvenated us as the cool gusts of the summer breeze soothed us.

 It seemed like we were going to enjoy a perfect afternoon until a sudden gust of wind effortlessly lifted the umbrella right off its base and smashed into my daughter carrying the glass bottles and tumblers with it. It happened in a blink of an eye and even though we tried to duck and escape the hurtling umbrella, and screamed out a warning, the runaway umbrella bumped off us and landed on the rocks below.  All the glass shattered to smithereens on my daughter.
  
For seconds we just sat there shocked and too numb to move. My daughter’s frantic cries got the waiter running to us and in all the melee and confusion as we tended to her, the first thing he said was, “That’s exactly the reason why we don’t keep the umbrellas open and you should not have done so yourself.” 

We just looked at him stunned into silence, trying to process the fact that this was the very first thing he had to say to us while we tended to our shaken and injured daughter. Even though she was covered in tiny shards of glass and so distressed, she shot back at him: “Well if we were not supposed to open the umbrella, then why didn’t you say something when you came to take the order? Or why didn’t you fix it correctly when you brought us our drinks?! And what do you mean that you don’t like the umbrellas up? Because if look around, you will see that there are so many umbrellas open and being used at the other tables!”
 
I have to say at that moment I felt proud of her for speaking up.  The waiter huffed off without a care, concern or apology. Instead he just asked a simple, “Are you okay?” to her. “No.” she shot back. “I am not okay, I am covered in glass bits”.

As we busied ourselves solicitously picking up the pieces from her exposed arms and legs, the waiter came back with a broom and dustpan to pick up the bigger pieces from the floor. As he busied himself cleaning up, he casually mentioned that maybe we should wash off her skin to remove the debris that wasn’t embedded in the flesh. That was his contribution to help, but he left us to figure out where to get the water from. While my daughter and my husband painstakingly combed her skin for little glass pieces, I rushed to the bar to get some water to wash her off with. I was shocked to see that even though everyone in the small open-air restaurant had seen and heard and witnessed what had happened, not ONE person came up to us to enquire if we were okay or if we needed any help. At that moment it didn’t register but what was flabbergasting was that the one waiter behind the bar who had obviously seen everything now saw me standing at the bar waiting for water. He proceeded to settle the bill and answer the questions of the patrons ahead of me! And the customers ahead of me continued talking between themselves about the near disaster and how lucky they were that the umbrella just missed them!!!!

I got to the bar and asked for water and again there was not a single comment, statement, concern voiced by the bartender as he silently handed me the glass of water. Fortunately or unfortunately I did not have time to focus on the abhorrent behavior because my primary goal was to make sure my daughter was okay. She didn’t suffer any major cuts. Just a few nicks were the only physical signs of the incident but emotionally we were all stunned.
After another glass of water washing off her skin (again not a single word from the waiter), we felt it was safe for her to walk and decided to leave.

I stood behind to pay the bill because even though we had not had an opportunity to have our drinks, I felt it was right to pay for them. Again I stood in line while people waited ahead of me. All of a sudden, the irony of the situation struck me. We had just suffered a scary accident and the staff at Bar Bard had displayed such appalling and inconsiderate behavior, I felt I was justified in walking off without paying for my four sodas.  So after several minutes of standing in line, I knew I could not stay another second in this restaurant and breathe the same air with these callous and cold-hearted people. I walked out with the realization that nobody had come over to ask us if we needed anything- nobody!

Clearly this was the sign that we needed to get out of the old town since the universe was making sure we were not welcome here, at least not at this time. Stumbling out of the old town we headed back to the hotel, happy to leave the catastrophes behind. Just the bitter unpleasant taste in our mouth and the puckered skin of my daughter were the reminders of how quickly a beautiful uneventful day can turn catastrophically wrong.
Understandably we hunkered down and stayed put in our rooms all afternoon reliving the bizarre experiences over and over in our minds.

For dinner, we were a little skeptical of going back into the old town. Instead, just a short walk from our hotel, we strolled along the charming tree-lined pedestrian-only boulevard. It was a lovely leisurely stroll and there were many locals and tourists who seemed to be enjoying it as much as we were. 

We stopped to eat at a konoba that seemed like it had been established for a long time. We enjoyed some local fish and risotto. It was not the ambience of the old town but it was fine.

After dinner we walked the length of the street as the sun came down and the area looked even more magical at dusk. From the street we followed a narrow footpath right on the edge of the sea with beautiful views all around and reached the Hotel More where we went to check out their famous Cave Bar.

Apparently this cave was discovered half way through the excavation and the construction of the hotel. The owner wisely decided to keep the cave intact and converted an area into a bar. It was a unique experience and an unforgettable sight. Not just within the cave, but right outside on the patio deck there were comfy chairs laid out. That was another area to enjoy a meal or a drink with the softly lapping water just inches below. It was quite late already so we could not enjoy the luxury of sitting and relaxing, but we were glad we made the trip to come out and see this unique and dramatic setting for a drink.