Of course, by the time we got around to agreeing on Croatia as a destination for a Northwestern Girls’ trip, it was hardly a fresh discovery. The jet set has been infiltrating boutique hotels and yacht harbours, while a fleet of cruise ships brings in the mass market. Regular herds of Chinese and Korean group tours validated the much-written-about rise of East-to-West travel. In addition, serving as a regular filming location for Game of Thrones has created a whole new sub-genre in tourism as fans from around the world flock to see the "real" Kings’ Landing, Qarth and Meereen.
While it would have been nice to sail through those islands and beaches in the balmy, light-drenched days of summer, I think we made the right choice. At least for an initial introduction to the country. Temperatures hovered in the mid-20s (mid- to high-70s F) with a fair amount of sunshine. We only suffered one day of rain; though we did suffer. Most sightseeing and dining is open air, long views are part of the appeal and the polished limestone streets of the old cities become hazardous when wet and pocked with deep puddles. As long as you anticipate the possible need for rain gear, I'd recommend our timing and this four-and-a-half day itinerary as an excellent introduction to the country.
START IN DUBROVNIK
We arrived around lunch time and had a driver take us from airport to old town. With four of us splitting the bill, it was by far the cheapest and most direct route and meant we were handed direct from informative guide to hotel manager who was waiting at the gate to take some of our luggage and walk us in to the pedestrianised city. The old town is mostly on a grid pattern so once you get your bearings it's not that hard to figure out, but the very narrow, architecturally consistent lanes and steep inclines make an initial guide very useful.
It's worth emphasising that Dubrovnik is no bargain. Queen rooms at the St. Joseph, even in this off season period, were £310 per night, a fairly consistent price for well-rated small hotels inside the city walls. Prices drop when you go beyond, of course, but then you're giving up atmosphere and adding transport hassles. You'll walk a lot in Dubrovnik, and do a leg-punishing number of steps. Stumbling to a nearby hotel when you hit the exhaustion point is wonderful. We splurged but kept our visit to two nights. If I returned I'd probably consider one of the rental apartments that seem to make up a big percentage of the old town.
On our first afternoon we wandered around the walled city and did some shopping. Dubrovnik is packed with small, independent boutiques and is particularly known for its jewellery (especially silver filigree work and red coral) and its silks (the cravat originally comes from Croatia). We spent most of the next day on a Game of Thrones tour and on our last morning walked the walls. The towering medieval comprise a complete circuit of battlements and towers, all with astonishing views and all in excellent condition ... no doubt helped by the approx. £18 per person each tourist pays for access. We took an hour getting two-thirds of the way around from the Pile Gate to the Ploce Gate at a fairly brisk pace on this one-way (anti-clockwise) route, but you could easily spend a whole day up here since many of the towers are conveniently occupied by cafes and pop-up booths of local craftspeople.
ENJOY THE TRANSFER
There is, surprisingly, no direct and easy train route to Split, the other tourist blockbuster along the coast. During the summer season the best way to cover the 158 miles between Dubrovnik and Split is by ferry up the coast. By road, it takes about four hours, mostly because the first half of the drive is by a winding but spectacularly beautiful coast road that ... reminiscent of a past girls' trip to Iceland ... spends a lot of time going around big, deep bays.
We also asked Boris to stop in Bosnia, which one must traverse for about 10 minutes due to old border debates. None of us had ever been to Bosnia before, and we didn't want to miss the opportunity to add a country to our travel collection. But we have a rule that to count as a real visit, you must stop somewhere to have at least one drink. Boris was both amused and a bit skeptical, but as he was at our command for the day he honoured our wishes, stopping at what he apologetically said was about the best he could do on the short stretch of coast.
Neither Dubrovnik nor Split show much evidence of the communism that once prevailed in Yugoslavia. Both feel affluent and modern. Not so for Neum, Bosnia, a string of ugly '70s- and '80s- era concrete block buildings that clearly stem from that time when communists were trying to convince the rest of the world that they could do fashion and holidays, as well as five-year plans. They couldn't.
They also don't seem to be able to do wine, despite the fact that the Croatian stuff on either side of
them is glorious. We should, of course, be grateful that we got any at all, Bosnia being a primarily Muslim country. But Neum is heavily populated by Roman Catholic Croats and the restaurant was a major stopping-off point, so white wine was available. With a beer-bottle top. And a label that looked like someone had designed it on an early Macintosh. It was thin, acidic and dirt cheap. Ironically, if you ignored the brutal architecture and the nasty wine (which, admittedly, got better by the second glass) you could drink in a vista of water, mountains and islands on par with the best seascapes in the world. Someone would charge you €10 on the Italian Riviera just to sit here.
They also don't seem to be able to do wine, despite the fact that the Croatian stuff on either side of
them is glorious. We should, of course, be grateful that we got any at all, Bosnia being a primarily Muslim country. But Neum is heavily populated by Roman Catholic Croats and the restaurant was a major stopping-off point, so white wine was available. With a beer-bottle top. And a label that looked like someone had designed it on an early Macintosh. It was thin, acidic and dirt cheap. Ironically, if you ignored the brutal architecture and the nasty wine (which, admittedly, got better by the second glass) you could drink in a vista of water, mountains and islands on par with the best seascapes in the world. Someone would charge you €10 on the Italian Riviera just to sit here.
After the Bosnian interlude the coast road returns to Croatia and dips into an enormous, fertile agricultural plain. Local farmers' booths line the road selling strings of oranges and garlic, and pyramids of precisely-piled vegetables in a scene that reminded me of Florida's US1 when I was a kid. Beyond that, you pick up a major highway and soon come into the outskirts of Split.
WHAT DID THE ROMANS EVER DO FOR US?
It's obvious from its furthest suburbs that Split is a very different kind of place from Dubrovnik. Its 178,000+ population is almost four times that of its southern cousin. People here obviously do a lot more than tourism; the approach is lined with warehouses, factories and office parks. There are enormous shopping malls and modern tower blocks. But there's history, too. Much older than Dubrovnik's.
Split started life as the Roman Emperor Diocletian's heavily fortified retirement complex. A local boy done good, he chose a beautiful and easily-defended bay near his home village and built essentially a walled town that was half palace, half administrative offices and all luxury. He even included a grand mausoleum at the centre, so he could go on occupying the place after his death. Given that he was the only emperor across more than four centuries to successfully retire, and one of the few to die in his bed at a fairly advanced age (mid-60s), the strategy seems to have worked.
The empire collapsed. The local economy crashed. The palace sat empty. Eventually, locals saw the merit of using the old walls for defence and built a new town within the ruins. More than 1,700 years on, Split's centre is a magnificent jumble of medieval, Renaissance and Baroque buildings wedged around the original architecture. Most structures have obvious borrowed elements ... columns, arches, decorated doorways, bits of sculpture ... while some classical spaces have been left to stand intact. The latter includes the famous peristyle, a town square in what was once Diocletian's colonnaded garden, and a warren of enormous, vaulted cellars. They're not only a treasured resource for Roman archeologists but provided another stage set for Game of Thrones.
By the late Middle Ages the town had spread beyond the palace. The districts immediately outside have a strongly Venetian feel about them, unsurprising since Split was officially part of the Venetian empire for more than 400 years. (Dubrovnik, on the other hand, was an independent republic only under Venetian domination for about a century, making the towns old rivals and adding to the differences in culture. Overall, Split feels much more Italian.
There's a long, grand seafront promenade where you can stroll, lap gelato, watch the ferries come in and out and get enough distance to appreciate the original walls of the palace. In the 19th century the locals (presumably as an architectural insult to the then-ruling Austrians) built a grand square inspired by St. Mark's in Venice, but open on one side to take in the harbour. It's a must-visit for a relaxed drink with a view. Like Dubrovnik, shopping in Split is dominated by small boutiques rather than global chains. (They're all in the out-of-town mall.) Jewellery, art and craft are also on show here, and Split has an unusual number of high-fashion clothing boutiques, many of them full of creations from local designers. The natives are all remarkably fashionable, making us feel distinctly underdressed. There's also a rollicking local fish market on one side of town and an enormous fruit, veg and local food producers' market on the other; it's the kind of place that makes foodies wish they had access to a kitchen.
We stayed at the Heritage Hotel Antique, another boutique choice in a medieval tower block built onto the wall of one of the palace's administrative buildings. In a breathtaking difference between "discovered", trendy Dubrovnik and slightly less on-the-beaten track Split, the hotel had dropped to off-season prices and put us up for just under £80 per room, per night. For less than a third of the price of Dubrovnik we had slightly smaller rooms with the same (and possibly even better) service; they even sent us away with both a packed breakfast and lunch when we started our journey back to the UK at 5 am. Beds were the same high quality with good mattresses, down pillows and high thread-count sheets. The decor was similar, the finish slightly less luxurious. (Not quite so deep a pile on the carpet, high-end linoleum flooring in the bathroom rather than marble ... though the exact same rain shower and a slightly better pile of toiletries.) Breakfast was in a breakfast room, rather than served by a uniformed maid. Not quite so much pampering, the pastries more mass production than hand-crafted and coffee was from a machine rather than silver urns, but you had the choice of a range of fresh-cooked egg dishes from an adjacent kitchen. Quite simply, the Antique was one of the best value-for-money deals we've snagged on any girls' trip and, on that front, far outstripped the St. Joseph.
While both cities were remarkable, Split seemed to have a vibrancy and a creativity that Dubrovnik lacked. We all agreed we were glad we spent three nights here (not just for the bargain hotel), and the Northern city has left me more intrigued than the Southern for further exploration. With nearby national parks, holiday islands and local wineries, we left feeling that there were plenty of depths in Split still to plumb, while two days in and around Dubrovnik felt about right.
In coming days I'll write more about each town, including our Game of Thrones tour, Diocletian's palace and ... of course ... fabulous food and wine experiences.
WHAT DID THE ROMANS EVER DO FOR US?
It's obvious from its furthest suburbs that Split is a very different kind of place from Dubrovnik. Its 178,000+ population is almost four times that of its southern cousin. People here obviously do a lot more than tourism; the approach is lined with warehouses, factories and office parks. There are enormous shopping malls and modern tower blocks. But there's history, too. Much older than Dubrovnik's.
Split started life as the Roman Emperor Diocletian's heavily fortified retirement complex. A local boy done good, he chose a beautiful and easily-defended bay near his home village and built essentially a walled town that was half palace, half administrative offices and all luxury. He even included a grand mausoleum at the centre, so he could go on occupying the place after his death. Given that he was the only emperor across more than four centuries to successfully retire, and one of the few to die in his bed at a fairly advanced age (mid-60s), the strategy seems to have worked.
The empire collapsed. The local economy crashed. The palace sat empty. Eventually, locals saw the merit of using the old walls for defence and built a new town within the ruins. More than 1,700 years on, Split's centre is a magnificent jumble of medieval, Renaissance and Baroque buildings wedged around the original architecture. Most structures have obvious borrowed elements ... columns, arches, decorated doorways, bits of sculpture ... while some classical spaces have been left to stand intact. The latter includes the famous peristyle, a town square in what was once Diocletian's colonnaded garden, and a warren of enormous, vaulted cellars. They're not only a treasured resource for Roman archeologists but provided another stage set for Game of Thrones.
By the late Middle Ages the town had spread beyond the palace. The districts immediately outside have a strongly Venetian feel about them, unsurprising since Split was officially part of the Venetian empire for more than 400 years. (Dubrovnik, on the other hand, was an independent republic only under Venetian domination for about a century, making the towns old rivals and adding to the differences in culture. Overall, Split feels much more Italian.
There's a long, grand seafront promenade where you can stroll, lap gelato, watch the ferries come in and out and get enough distance to appreciate the original walls of the palace. In the 19th century the locals (presumably as an architectural insult to the then-ruling Austrians) built a grand square inspired by St. Mark's in Venice, but open on one side to take in the harbour. It's a must-visit for a relaxed drink with a view. Like Dubrovnik, shopping in Split is dominated by small boutiques rather than global chains. (They're all in the out-of-town mall.) Jewellery, art and craft are also on show here, and Split has an unusual number of high-fashion clothing boutiques, many of them full of creations from local designers. The natives are all remarkably fashionable, making us feel distinctly underdressed. There's also a rollicking local fish market on one side of town and an enormous fruit, veg and local food producers' market on the other; it's the kind of place that makes foodies wish they had access to a kitchen.
While both cities were remarkable, Split seemed to have a vibrancy and a creativity that Dubrovnik lacked. We all agreed we were glad we spent three nights here (not just for the bargain hotel), and the Northern city has left me more intrigued than the Southern for further exploration. With nearby national parks, holiday islands and local wineries, we left feeling that there were plenty of depths in Split still to plumb, while two days in and around Dubrovnik felt about right.
In coming days I'll write more about each town, including our Game of Thrones tour, Diocletian's palace and ... of course ... fabulous food and wine experiences.
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