November 16, 2007

Croatia is complex. As the package for the ubiquitous pepper cookie states, it “contains in equal measures Eastern Europe and the Mediterranean.” It is both touristy and oblivious. It’s right on the sea but offers little in the way of (edible) seafood. This made for a trip that didn’t quite know what to make of itself, but that, nonetheless, revealed enjoyable pleasures.

We decided on Croatia after seeing a persuasive tourist video in some South American airport. It had clear blue waters and charming seaside towns and elegant spires. Sign me up! Well, landing in Zagreb, it was clear we’d have to work for the charms. This inland capital city seems typical of much of Eastern Europe – graffiti all over the large stone bricks and an “old infrastructure,” as Clint says. Adding to the depressing nature was the snow that began falling just as we stepped out to explore. After viewing the requisite church and some chilly open-air markets, it was time to leave for our next stop.

Flying to the seaside town of Split, we were hopeful. Reaching the coast would yield not only warmer temperatures (I was promised 60 degrees, not snow!) but, ideally, more picturesque attractions. Yanking the rolling suitcases up a narrow, twisting, bumpy brick street to our accommodations, I was appeased. And thus began the pictures of laundry lines. Clothes (preferably white) pinned up to dry against stone walls, sometimes with a pop of color from a garden. Lemony sunshine helps. Beautiful!

Split also yielded more in the way of sights. While the palm trees and wide boulevard undoubtedly would be more charming in summer, we appreciated them. Split boasts many historical buildings, and this being Europe, historical means 300 A.D. (Clint: “I’ve seen older.”) Diocletian’s Palace, the emperor’s retirement home, was long filled with centuries worth of, well, junk, but looks appropriately stately now.

At this point, a word on the details of traveling in Europe is required. So they say that the Mediterranean (or in this case Adriatic) has plentiful natural resources. Grains, vegetables, fish, right? So why, oh why, is the only thing I can find to eat mozzarella sandwiches? I must have eaten my weight in damp chewy white bread and completely taste-neutral cheese. Disappointing, to say the least. (But long live Croatian wine and chocolate!) On the other hand, we tried something new this time with staying in an apartment instead of a hotel. While the word “apartment” conjured up visions of cramming our bodies onto someone’s dingy couch, we actually had very spacious rooms to ourselves. It was a positive way to feel like we were experiencing the culture more. Instead of staying in carefully-appointed hotel rooms, we used Croatian dish soap and struggled with keeping the apartment heated. Do other places offer apartment accommodations? We will be looking.

At any rate, Split was mildly enjoyable, but it was time to move on to Dubrovnik. Following a five-hour nausea-inducing ride along the twisty coastal cliffs, we arrived to the bulk of our trip. Striding over the wooden drawbridge (yes, that’s right) at night, we were of one mind: Disneyland. Lit with a warm glow, the shuttered main street seemed too quaint to be real. If one wished to recreate “medieval limestone town,” one could look to Dubrovnik for ideas. It turns out we were staying in another apartment, this one up two flights off the main street and then two more inside. (I’m not complaining, but my calf muscles are.) While some Semester at Sea brats were overrunning the town that night, filling this old-fashioned European town with the brash sounds of English, there were still some sights to be seen. As we strolled down our side street, we saw children streaming to the left, all carrying candles in glowing red or green containers. Following them, we observed a gathering outside of the small church, with the candles placed all over the ground. Why? We have no idea, but it made for a nice picture.

In Dubrovnik over the next few days, we tried to experience “Mediterranean” and “European” in Croatia’s unique way. One of the most delightful things to do in Dubrovnik is to walk along the stone walls surrounding the Old Town. Formerly for defense, these walls now provide an unfettered sight of the shining sea on one side and orange-tiled roofs on the other. Following this, we ate mozzarella sandwiches (it’s true!) and visited the aquarium (not bad) and Rector’s Palace. This last was interesting while not compelling. Viewing remnants of an ancient system of government (like the chairs the rectors were carried through the streets in), we felt like this was almost the Europe we are familiar with, but not quite. It was an unsettling feeling. These old buildings should be in Florence, but where are the art museums? Perhaps this old church belongs in Oxford, but where are the bookstores? Croatia, it seemed, doesn’t know what its place is. These uneasy sensations, coupled with the lack of sights to see in Dubrovnik, made us decide to cut the trip a couple of days short and head to Munich for the remainder of the week. As we shall see, it was an excellent decision, not because we didn’t enjoy Croatia, but because the rest of Europe, I think, is much more settled in its identity.