Cavtat

I travel a lot – for business and leisure. After a while one town starts to look much like the last; one local icon invites comparison with another and each hotel feels like the last. It takes something rather quirky and unexpected to make a lasting impact. Cavtat (pronounced "tsavtat"), a small village nestled on a narrow pine-clad peninsular, is one such place. We based ourselves here on the advice of my Uncle and Aunt (Thanks Dick and Jan). Without their tip I’m sure we’d have never bothered.

Cavtat consists of largely plain stone buildings, capped by bright, red-tiled roofs. Its sea-front plaza looks out across a small, sheltered bay dotted with simple fishing boat. It’s not fancy by any stretch of the imagination. However, the combination of simplicity in such an idyllic location is magic. My travel-wary soul was replenished moments after sighting Cavtat from the opposing shore of its postcard perfect harbour.


Cavtat is the original Dubrovnik. Like so many towns in the area it began life as a Greek settlement. Called Epidauros at the time, it fell under Roman rule in 228 BC and became a colony in the Roman province of Dalmatia. In the early 7th Century invading Slavs and Avars ransacked the town. Refugees who fled the violence eventually created a new settlement 17 kilometres up the coast. This new town eventually became the city of Dubrovnik.


Beyond bucket-loads of natural beauty, Cavtat is also an incredibly convenient location. It’s five kilometers from the airport, half an hour by bus or 40 minutes by boat from Dubrovnik and within easy reach of day trips to Montenegro. We stayed at Hotel Croatia, a rather uninspiring concrete hulk on a hill overlooking the harbour. Despite its ugly exterior the hotel bar offered stunning views of Cavtat. Our room ialso held a balcony looking out across small islands dotting the Adriatic Sea.


We spent our first afternoon in Croatia wandering the shores of Cavtat harbour, dining at a simply water-front restaurant and venturing up a small hill to see the Racic Mausoleum. This popular local sight is a domed art-deco chapel built on the edge of the town’s cemetery. Designed by sculptor Ivan Mestrovic, it’s a striking white stone building that maintains a silent vigil over the distant seawall defenses of Dubrovnik. It’s a spectacular view that’s simply wasted on the dead.


Spectacular coastal views aren’t hard to find in Croatia. On our third day in the country we hired a car and made plans to drive south to the Montenegrin town of Kotor. Enroute to the border we took a detour to Prevlaka, a long, narrow peninsular that constitutes the southernmost tip of Croatia. This landmark location sits at the entrance of the Gulf of Kotor and thus provides a picturesque view of the coast. In 1991 the Yugoslav National Army captured the area and based itself her for the duration of the siege of Dubronvik. Signs of their presence remain today, including taunting graffiti painted on the walls of old Austro-Hungarian fort at Point Ostra.


Garry and I spent more than an hour at Prevlaka, walking 2.5 kilometres from the national park carpark to Point Ostra. As we walked I struggled to reconcile the peaceful view with the concept that this was a battle zone less than twenty years ago. The UN was still monitoring the area until 2002 when it was finally given back to Croatia. I still struggle with the concept this peninsular and Dubrovnik were both European war zone in my lifetime.

Dubrovnik

Dubronvik didn’t disappoint. This medieval walled city was everything I hoped it would be - and more. Built in the 11th century, its spectacular walls provide a stunning view of the Adriatic and unforgettable glimpses of the postcard city they surround. The present structures date from the rebuilding that followed a devastating earthquake in 1667. Everywhere you look, brown buildings and their red tiled roofs fill the view, window boxes adorn narrow pathways and boats bob in sheltered harbour.


We entered the old city by boat; just like merchants visiting centuries ago. As we passed the soaring six-metre thick walls of St John fort, a sky of dramatic rainclouds filled the horizon. The entire scenic was a true Hollywood moment. I was left wondering how any army could bombard such a beautiful location; an event that actually happened in 1991-92. For months the former Yugoslav National Armed Forces attacked the city with gunships and artillery during the Croatian War of Independence. While everything has long since been repaired, you can identify the dozens of buildings damaged using a map located just inside the city’s land-locked Pile Gate.


A new musuem dedicated to the Croatian War of Independence has been created inside the Imperial Fort. The fort sits on the 400 metre summit of Mount Srd, directly behind Dubrovnik. When our flight home was delayed Garry and I took time out to drive up to the fort. This massive concrete structure was built by Napoleon's occupying army in 1808. Inside we saw news footage of Dubronvik's old city under attack, including scenes of the fort itself being hit.

Getting to the fort took nerves of steel. Access is via a narrow single-lane road that winds its way up a steep rock face, before precariously tracing the cliff top. However, the spectacular view from the fort’s rooftop made the heart-stopping journey well worthwhile. From this vantage point Dubrovnik’s defensive cliff-hugging location becomes all too apparent. Below us the red-roofed old town dazzled as the Elaphite islands stretched off into the distance.


Its ancient walls are also clear to see. They completely surround the old town, a circumference of almost two kilometers, reaching a height of 25 meters in places. The wall is unique in Europe. Almost nowhere else is a town wall so well preserved. You can walk the entire length of the wall’s crest. Periodically your journey is interrupted by one of fifteen towers, all built in the 16th century. Some even let you climb higher to get a better view. We spent several hours watching the city’s landscape unfold, briefly interrupted by an unforeseen rain shower. The view of red tiled roofs is something I’ll never forget.


We then wandered through the old city’s cobbled laneways, including Stradun the original main street that dissects the entire area from north to south. We briefly visited the local cathedral (a poor cousin to some of Europe’s other houses of worship) and the Franciscan Monastery which includes a 14th century cloister. The Monastery also includes the oldest pharmacy in Europe still in operation. The locals claim it opened for business in 1317. I was a little disappointed by what I saw but subsequently impressed by two spectacular missile holes from 1991 still visible in the interior walls.


An unexpected highlight of our visit was lunch. We discovered a delightful pizza restaurant tucked into a tiny cellar off a quiet laneway. Dining at rustic wooden tables in stone clad room made us feel as if we’d stepped back in time to an era when Dubrovnik was an independent city state commanding the entire Dalmatian Coast.

We were also pleased we’d chosen autumn to visit. The crowds were heavy in many places despite the inclement weather. It's clear that Dubrovnik is engulfed by tourist chaos at the height of Summer. Unfortunately for us, last weekend was unseasonably cold. More than one local told us the weather was highly unusual. However, even in the cold, Dubrovnik is magic. Visit if you can!

Walls, walls, walls

Dubrovnik isn’t the only spectacular walled city along the Dalmatian Coast. About two hours south, in Montenegro, lies the medieval town of Kotor. This wonderfully preserved town is surrounded by 4.5kms of impressive stone walls. Those facing the waterfront are the most impressive; 20 metres high and 15 metres wide. Kotor itself sits in s spectacular location, nestled at the end of a long fjord-like finger of the Adriatic Sea called the Boka Kotorska (Gulf of Kotor).


Kotor is reached by a scenic road tracing the dramatic shoreline. It takes more than an hour to drive this winding route, past soaring, barren limestone cliffs and villages populated by old stone buildings. Perhaps the most memorable sight along the way is the blue-domed church of Otok Gospa. While the building itself isn’t particularly note-worthy, its location is. The church sits on tiny man-made island in the middle of the gulf.


The old town of Kotor itself is a beautiful place. We spent more than an hour wandering its narrow cobblestone streets lined with all manner of magnificent stone buildings. The most impressive is its iconic postcard perfect Cathedral of Saint Tryphon. This venue’s twin towers stand above a spacious square, framed by a soaring stone cliff face. Unfortunately, the day that Garry and I visited, it was cold and damp; and the place was almost deserted. This left us with a sense of desolation rather than memories of a lively museum town that seemed to grace every guide book.


The other walled city we visited was Ston, and its neighouring port of Mali Ston. Both are located on the Peljesac peninsula, an hour north of Dubrovnik. Ston’s stone walls reminded me of another famous fortification, the Great Wall of China. At regular intervals, the wall’s narrow length is broken by a series of fortified towers. Each wall towers up to 15 metres high; first circling a small town of stone buildings before snaking dramatically up and around a nearby hillside.


Ston’s walls extend for more than six kilometres, ending on the opposite side of a narrow peninsular at the coastal village of Mali Ston. The village was completed in 1490 and clearly resembles the port of Dubrovnik with three arsenals, a round tower and a fortified port gate. As we walked down its narrow cobblestone lanes I was reminded of Mousehole, the Cornish coastal town we visited in May.


We later completed our visit by driving along the coast to Prapatna cove. This is a narrow bay with two distinguishing features; a ferry terminal for boats to the island of Hvar and small sandy beach. We stopped on the beach for a breezy autumn picnic lunch using produce we’d bought at a small local mini-mart in Ston. As with the drive to Kotor, the winding coastal road to Ston took us past some spectacular scenery. The Dalmatian Coast really is as rugged and picturesque as an atlas glance suggests.

Stranded in Croatia

We're back from a four-day weekend in Croatia. Our original itinerary involved a three-day break. However, stormy weather on Sunday evening resulted in British Airways cancelling our flight. Garry and I were forced to add another 24-hours to our trip, all the while accomodated at a five-star hotel courtesy of BA. We made the most of our extra day, taking in some additional sightseeing north of Dubrovnik.

While being stranded without warning wasn't ideal, I have to admit the weather was pretty appalling on Sunday night. Taking off in such conditions would have been a hair-raising experience by any measure. More about our weekend tomorrow including highlights from the pictureque town of Kotor, the stone walls of Stom and the truly majestic Dubrovnik.

In case you're wondering, the photo gracing this post was taken on our first day. The only time we saw blue skies and sunshine. The scene shown here was a sheltered bay in Cavtat, a postcard perfect town we made our home base. On Sunday evening even this sheltered bay was churned into a scene of white capped waves and wildly rocking boats.

UPDATE
I've added links to this post that take you to more recent posts about our time in Croatia.