Friday, July 10, 2009

We Lovnik Dubrovnik

Sorry, Fernando keeps coming up with these awful puns. He's fairly easy to travel with, but when he starts drinking (and let's face it, when does he stop?) he likes to test out all of his puns, knock-knock jokes, and will occasionally stoop to the "Pull my hoof! Pull my hoof!" thing.

The humor abounds, but the tolerance does not. Fernando and I share the loathe of autobus travel, and this was, unfortunately, the only mode of transport available to us between Split and Dubrovnik. Fernando was not pleased, and expressed his disgust by rolling over and playing dead on the bus.
He managed to perk right up after we arrived, and saw that the weather was clear, and the town looked fabulous. We took a beautiful half-hour walk into Old Town Dubrovnik. The concierge at our hotel had tried to discourage the walk, instead recommending the bus. You can imagine the eye-rolling from Fernando.
The concierge said "Oh, you go this way..." (pointing along a road on the map) "...but it is not a nice walk", so I was imagining a grungy, industrial stretch of road, perhaps past ugly shipping yards, with drunk vagrants swigging mystery liquor out of paper-bag-covered bottles. It was, instead, a lovely wander through a residential neighborhood which opened up onto a cliffside walk that led right into the Old Town. I can only deduce that our concierge has unreasonably high standards for her walks.

Here we are:

We enjoyed a sunny, tasty (finally!) lunch, overlooking the Adriatic Sea. I had Diet Coke, but Fernando demanded white wine. He was having fish, and complained about the absurdity of a Diet Coke being paired with anything other than a corn dog. He's kind of a snob.

I will be the first person to say "Don't drink and shop", but Fernando headed straight for the Blue store, and decided he needed some shoes. I have the sneaking suspicion he is a bit jealous of my shoe collection, and was feeling slightly competitive.

He thought the white ones made him look fat, so we bought blue ones instead. We then spent the remainder of the trip taking scenic photos and complaining about the ice cream. Fernando suggested, for our last meal, that we "live like the locals". So we picked up a feast of sorts at the local convenience store.

I'm sure this is a typical Croatian meal for someone, somewhere in Croatia. Onwards to Greece!