May 2nd: Trsteno Gardens

In 1502 a Dubrovnic nobleman built his summer villa here at Trsteno, with extensive formal gardens laid out according to the fashion of that era. The villa and gardens were maintained by the same family until 1948 when the newly installed communist regime confiscated the estate as part of their removal of the aristocracy. Today it is still run by the state, the Croatian Academy of Science, which has further developed the grounds to include an arboretum.
The setting is stunningly beautiful, high up and directly overlooking a coast of little bays and a sea dotted with islands. The first photo is a typical example.

Being an arboretum, it was full of obscure trees, and they don’t come stranger than this one. Remember a sci-fi book called “Day of the Triffids”? The trunk on the right just above the hedge line looks like it might be waving to us. And are those two discs its eyes?

Odd trees, now big trees. It’s 150 years old and has grown to well over 100 feet tall. The discs on the trunk are identification data (I bet you guessed they weren't really eyes), but we didn’t remember to note down the details. It’s not clear who is propping who up between Jane and the tree.

We ate our sarnies in this shelter overlooking the sea. The islands seemed to go on forever into the distance, getting hazier and hazier. A perfect spot, we all agreed.

After lunch we descended the steps at the side of the shelter into a terraced, overgrown garden. A real suntrap, and just the sort of place that would attract snakes. Not that we considered such a possibility- until I nearly stepped on one: a large brown snake basking at the edge of the path. It rapidly shot off into the undergrowth, and has defied our efforts since to ID it. We have internet access so were able to discover that there are 16 species of snake in Croatia, some with sub-species, in the case of the grass snake, 8 sub-species. Paul is quick off the mark with his camera, and got the tail before the creature disappeared. So, what do you think it was? Post answers on the blog. Winner gets a Monty Python or Black Adder DVD.

Walking on a little more carefully through the rest of the garden, we came to the mill, a rather dilapidated structure full of old equipment to do with milling, and pressing grapes and olives. It was covered in dust, bits of wood and rubble, looking more like a medieval torture chamber that had laid undiscovered in some castle dungeon for centuries.

The formal features of other great estate gardens were there too: the herb garden, roses and box hedges, a fountain with classical statues, and so on. The water feature shows a glum looking Neptune with trident, presiding over a goldfish pool, flanked by female aides. It’s getting him down that in all these years he’s not managed to spear a single goldfish.

The gardens were well worth searching out. There was no sign from the main road and then no indication where the entrance was on the tiny perimeter road we found after passing through a campsite. Trsteno Gardens website is all about praising its own horticultural achievements, so perhaps the management doesn’t see direction signs as part of the job, which is ironic because the tree descriptions (the discs in the photos) were clear and comprehensive!

April 30th: South of the Border

BLOG NOTE: All the photos on older blogs are now visible.
Today we were on an organised bus trip to Montenegro. The border is 25 miles south of the campsite, and the bus picked us up on the main road by the site gates on its way from Dubrovnik. We drove through a lush agricultural area leading up to the border crossing. Although Croatia has warm, dry summers, it’s evident that there is plentiful rain in the winter months.
We waited in the queue of vehicles for about 90 minutes whilst the customs and border officials checked passports. The courier said they were sometimes pedantically officious, as they were being today. There is not much goodwill between Croatia and its southern neighbours (Montenegro and Bosnia & Herzegovina) who they fought in the war that split up the former Yugoslavia. Each country of course claims to have been the innocent victim. But more of that in another blog.
Eventually leaving the borders behind, we were soon driving around the gulf of Kotor. This is described as the most southerly fjord in Europe, and is certainly impressive with high, steep mountains lining the long, narrow sea inlet. The photo shows our Lady of the Rock Island in the gulf. It’s an artificial island made after fishermen found an icon of the Virgin on rocks nearby, as you do. To celebrate this miraculous event, shiploads of stones were tipped on the seabed and a church built on top to house the icon. I suppose the real miracle is that the island itself has survived, what with earthquakes and the wash from cruise liners!

The walled town of Kotor is at the end of the gulf. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site and could have been built by Disney. Because the gulf is a deep, sea inlet, Kotor has been an important port and naval base for all of its history.
This is one of the squares, featuring St Tryphon’s cathedral. Never heard of St Tryphon? Well, back in 890 a passing ship loaded with relics happened to have the head of St Tryphon on board and for sale. This was snapped up by the townspeople and adopted as their patron saint. Such relics were valuable assets for the local economy in attracting pilgrims.

Kotor is full of narrow streets and alleys; perhaps the most impressive bits are the fortifications that run round the town and then right up the mountain at the back, Great Wall of China style. A lookout was permanently stationed on the top tower to warn of the approach of raiders.

All towns and cities right along this side of the Adriatic were dominated by a variety of rulers; some were independent for a time. It was all to do with protecting trade routes.
Kotor was no exception and fell under the influence of the Serbs, Austria-Hungary, Bosnia, then independent, Turkey, Venice (nearly 400 years), Russia, Habsburg Empire, Yugoslavia, and now Montenegro. The campsite proprietor said Kotor should really belong to Croatia. I don’t think the Kotorians care as long as the tourists keep coming in place of those pilgrims of yesteryear.
The next stop was Budva, another old walled town, this time in a seaside and more touristy environment. It’s all atmospheric narrow streets and little squares. The photo shows a pretty corner of the battlements momentarily clear of trippers.

Now who are these two belles in front of the big bell?

Every watersport imaginable is on offer from the harbour area, so we were not surprised to see a paraglider towed by a powerboat running along the shoreline towards the Old Town. Whilst you can clearly see the two passengers, it’s not possible to be sure whether there are looks of terror on their faces.

A few miles the other side of Budva is delightful St Stefan’s island. The buildings date back to the 15th and 16th centuries, but the island was abandoned between the two World Wars and became derelict. It was restored in the 50’s as a resort for top communist officials, each house being made into a self-contained luxury suite. Now it’s an exclusive hotel where a suite will cost you up to 3,000 euros per night + 10% service charge. The photo of the island is taken from the Aman Hotel online brochure.

After St Stefan’s, we head for home. The border crossing takes all of 5 minutes: the officials have perhaps mellowed with thoughts of dinner and a bottle of wine. So we arrive back, unexpectedly in daylight, passing fine views of the coast as we drive towards the setting sun.

Out and About Near the Campsite

The campsite is in the middle of a large bay with Dubrovnik just beyond one end and the small resort of Cavtat at the other. Cavtat is the oldest settlement on this part of the coast having been settled by the Greeks in the 3^rd century BC. There are no Greek remains as the town was ransacked a millennium later. It was a resort catering exclusively for the wealthy until tourism got going in the 1980s and still retains a classy feel as well as being highly photogenic. So, for the moment, it’s avoided a further ransacking by lager louts.

On the way back from Cavtat we stopped for a walk. The path wound down from the pull-off to the sea, passing small trees and scrub offering shelter to all sorts of creatures.

It’s difficult to spot birds flitting through this sort of dense undergrowth never mind identifying them, but this hoopoe obligingly sat on the path for us. Hoopoes are crested birds that, when in flight, look like giant butterflies.

Arriving at the end of the path at the seashore, we noticed a kind of shed housing these two enormous wine barrels. This area is an important wine producer and these barrels were evidently for bulk storage of wine. Although not containing any wine, the barrels were in good repair and seemed to have been in recent use.  However, there were no vineyards or wine presses anywhere around, or even any houses, so why the barrels were located here at the end of a dead-end road is a mystery.

Another nice view to finish with, over the scrub towards the offshore islands. Most of these islands have some dwellings and are serviced by car ferry from Dubrovnik harbour where we originally docked. The larger islands farther up the coast have substantial populations and a thriving tourist trade. Croatia has more than 1,000 islands, so there’s plenty of choice!

Dubrovnik Old Town

Dubrovnik’s city walls are intact, dating mainly from the 12^th and 13^th centuries although extended and repaired many times subsequently. A great way of checking out the old city itself is to walk the full circuit of these battlements. There are some panoramic views of the re-roofed buildings in the town especially from the top of the fortress dominating the northern side looking in the direction of the sea.

Back down at street level, the town is laid out in a grid pattern resulting from the substantial rebuild following the earthquake of 1667 when 5,000 inhabitants perished. Dubrovnik also received a severe battering when it was shelled by Serbian forces during the Homeland War as it is known here, from November 1991 to May 1992. The destruction of that time has been so well repaired you would not realise that there had been any damage. The photo below shows the main street that contains the expected typical tourist shops, but quite reasonable quality and prices (i.e. we’ve seen a lot worse!)

There are some interesting historic buildings that predate the earthquake, for example the Sponza Palace and the municipal bell tower in the next photo. The Sponza Palace was once the city’s customhouse and mint, with an inscription inside designed to deter merchants from cheating on weight: “When I weigh goods God weighs me”

The bell tower contains some detailed figures that strike the bell on the hour and, so my guidebook tells me, are known as the “Greenies” on account of their weathered copper colour. They are however copies of the 15^th century originals.

On either side of the main thoroughfare, the parallel streets run on higher and higher levels, especially heading for the North Gate, the exit needed to catch the bus back to the campsite. Take a look at the one we plodded up. It looks pretty at the start and pretty exhausting at the top.

The overall strong defensive position of the town is best shown in this last photo, taken from the road leading out of Dubrovnik. Unfortunately, it’s looking towards the sun but the circuit of the massive walls can be clearly seen and the characteristic red roofs. Invaders these days are confined to tourists and cruise ships, which are welcomed rather than repelled.

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Mlini and Camping Kate

At this time of the year, out of season, it’s not usually necessary to book in advance. You like the description of a site in one of the campsite books, or maybe somebody’s recommended it, and just turn up generally anytime from mid-afternoon onwards. But this time we’re rolling into Camping Kate at 8.00am, one hour after docking. The proprietor is there waiting. This is obviously normal on overnight ferry days. He’s really pleasant and speaks almost perfect English, having worked in New York.

Given a free choice, we select a spot at the far end of the site over looking the sea. This is the view from the patio slightly beyond our pitches.

A knee-trembling set of steps leads down to the little harbour of Mlini. It takes its name from the Latin word for mill, Molina. Two large streams rush headlong down the hillside on either side of the campsite and these flow under some of the buildings, with channels and sluices formed to divert the flow of water. These we can see from the steps and are clearly the former mills. On the day we arrive the streams are in flood and have become torrents, so the view from the steps provides a spectacle of roaring water. To give an idea of scale, the river (hardly a stream now!) is about 4 meters in width. 

Mlini is a small, pretty village where the two streams meet before flowing into the sea. There’s yet another old mill complex here with a 250 year- old plane tree spreading over the water. How do I know it’s 250 years old?  Conveniently, there’s a plaque on the tree in Croat and English giving its history. We are finding that where a second language is used it’s always English. 

The walk along the front, a pedestrian path of several miles to the next village, gives some lovely views through the pine trees into the bay. This is almost a daily walk for us and as part of the routine we reward ourselves with an ice-cream to give us the energy to climb up those steps back to the campsite.

April 18th: Nearly Not Bari to Dubrovnik

To catch the ferry to Dubrovnik we needed to cross from Rome, on the west coast of Italy, to Bari on the east. It was a full day’s drive and we arrived at Bari port just after 6.00pm. Loading commences at 8.00pm for the 10.00pm sailing. We hadn’t pre-bought tickets, and the ticket office was closed but a queue was already waiting outside the ticket window, so the signs were good. At 7.00 the lights came on, the blind was raised and two faces appeared at adjacent ticket window.
We get our turn at 7.30ish after being queue-jumped several times by bus tour operators each with 50 passengers’ passports to be checked and tickets issued. Feelings of outrage firmly under control since nobody but the British rigorously obey the rules of queuing.
Paul and Trish’ motorhome is no problem, but here is an English caravan that has no official registration document. I explain that no such document exists in the UK. The car registration document covers everything and the caravan is just a towed box we sleep in.
The ticket office clerk wasn’t having any of it.
“No papers, no ticket, as you going outside EU. You must ask police then maybe we give you ticket. Police in Terminal, that way.”
Her hand waved vaguely towards the far side of the port. The wave was more dismissive than directional, and anyway the far side of the docks was swiftly sliding into a filmy curtain of darkness.
It wasn’t negotiable. There is only one ferry company, Jadrolinija, running this route so you need to comply with their rules, however exasperating. And time is ticking on: it’s 7.45pm, nearly loading up time. The next ferry is in two days time.
We discover there’s a shuttle bus to the Terminal, which Paul and I catch leaving Jane and Trish to keep an eye on the vehicles. At the terminal we can’t find the police, and anyway why would the Italian police care what went to Croatia, surely that would be the concern of the Croatian police?
Before despair has time to set in, we have a great stroke of luck. The information desk at the Terminal is manned (womanned?) by a large Mrs Fix-it. Speaking good English, she takes up our cause with a missionary zeal. Within 10 minutes she has rooted out the police, customs and an official from Jadrolinja all of whom see no reason why the caravan should not travel to Croatia. She gets the Jadrolinija official to phone the ticket office to instruct them to accept the caravan. Job done. Just a dash back on the shuttle, buy the tickets and proceed to the loading queue. Phew!!
The ferry left at 10.00 and chugged on through the night to Dubrovnik. All cabins are knocked up at 6.00am to partake of the free breakfast before docking at 7.00am. The photo below, taken on the way to breakfast, shows the cold light of dawn with its washed-out colours as we near the Croatian coast.

After breakfast a new world emerges as the sun paints its first rays on the final approaches to Dubrovnik. It’s a scenic canvas of inlets, small islands and red-roofed houses. We dock and drive out of the port, eager to see more.

A small but relevant post-script: the customs weren’t particularly interested in the caravan and weren’t scrutinising our documents. It was just another tourist vehicle, a cursory check and then they waved us through.

The Vatican State

To many people, St Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican are one and the same, but the Vatican is much more: it is the power-base of the Catholic Church. As well as being the spiritual leader, the figurehead of that powerbase is the Pope. So it was with a sense of purpose that we went to see the Pope deliver his Sunday blessing at mid-day. This is us, waiting for mid-day, with several thousand others in the huge St Peter’s Square.

Everyone has a clear view of the Pope as he appears from an upper window of his apartment, to the right just off camera. He delivers his blessing in numerous languages, including English, and there is much inter-reaction as people cheer when it’s their language’s turn. We did feel a sense of occasion, separate from any religious context.

In past times, the Vatican’s political power put the Pope and his administration at risk from invading armies. The Vatican buildings themselves were not designed as fortifications, but Castel Sant Angelo half a mile away, also part of the Vatican’s domain, certainly was. So a “secret passage” was constructed giving the Pope and his staff the chance to dash to the safety of the castle when the going got rough. It’s not much a secret as the line of the passage can be easily defined by following the ventilation slits in the wall leading to the castle. It’s interesting to speculate whether they held time trials with the Pope and Cardinals to ensure speedy evacuation, cheering the winner past the finishing tape. Only small bets allowed of course.

Our next topic has nothing to do with the Vatican, at least I hope not! The Mafia. Not much in the news these days, and maybe its because of the success of the organisation behind the tablet in the photo. It reads "Direzione Nazionale Antimafia".In the UK we take it for granted that the police has national organised crime contained if not eradicated, but what must it be like when it isn’t, as in Italy? Don Corleone (aka Paul) poses alongside the plaque.

Let's end on a really cheerful note: a street ensemble playing in a piazza near the Vatican. And very professional, too. Rome seems to come up with these unexpected delights so often. So now it’s arrivederci Roma, and dobar dan Dubrovnik in a few days.