We’re inveterate shoulder-season travelers, which for us means that at some point in the autumn, we’re on the road – sometimes in the US, sometimes overseas. Last year’s trip was a month-long fall fling in the Balkans.
Like most travelers, we enjoy every city’s major attractions: the museums, monuments, and cathedrals. But over the years we’ve also developed a keen eye for detail – an appreciation for the small things that contribute to a city’s character.
Set on the coast of the azure Adriatic Sea, Dubrovnik is the jewel in the Croatian crown, with its caramel tones of polished stone, muted greens of Mediterranean cypress, and shifting blues of sky and sea.
Early next week we’re traveling by bus to Mostar, Bosnia, and because it’s in a different country, it takes a little planning. And as you might expect, we have some experience with this sort of thing, so we usually know how to proceed.
I’m not the first person to notice that Dubrovnik has an amazing array of cats … lot and lots of cats. Calicos, tabbies – you name it!
Hats are snatched, laundry is ripped off the line, and flags flap and pop. There’s a poltergeist behind these deeds, and it’s the incessant wind which blew 24/7 for much of our time in Dubrovnik. These constant 20-25 mph winds seemed strange to me, so I investigated a bit,
In Dubrovnik we stayed in a very funky apartment. I referred to it as Great Aunt Sophie’s garret. It was a fourth-floor walkup (Who reserved this, anyway?), built into the attic rafters of an 18th century building.