ABC (Dubrovnik, Croatia - Barcelona, Spain)

Beware, my dear reader, this post includes a transit day. So far they have all been splendiferous. Who knows what the future holds? I do because this is being written two days after the event. However, let's maintain chronology. Almost. The photos in this post are placed where they are because I'm tired and it's late.

The last night spent in port at Cavtat was uneventful given that the rich and famous had moved on. We weighed anchor at 8:30 am because we had to vacate the mooring. The sail to Dubrovnik would not take very long, so a quick swimming stop was organised. Unusually, many of us decided to stay dry, the concept of packing still damp clothing the next morning was not appealing. Also, a few of us were reaching our limit. Our cruise limit and our sociability limit.

The port authority changed our mooring on the way to Dubrovnik and we ended up closer to the city than expected. Unhappily we passed two large cruise ships on the way to our berth. They carried a combined 6,000 people. There were numerous other smaller ships at anchor or docked as well, with capacity of around 1,000 down to 200 passengers each. It made our ship look insignificant. Our paltry 32 people would have minimal impact on the streets of Dubrovnik.

The cable car to the top.

We enjoyed lunch on board and whiled away the time until our coach arrived to transport us to the old town. In reality, we could have walked, it was only about 20 minutes away. As expected, the old town was crowded; so crowded that they have a delineated entrance/exit path, not that many people paid attention to it.

The view from our mooring.

As has been the pattern, we wandered around the old town with a guide chirping away in our ears through our audio box. The cruise ships had obviously chosen today to be in town too. It was uncomfortably crowded and people en masse appear to lose any sense of etiquette or sense of the other. There was a bit of bumping and shoulder charging, people just stopping dead in front you. In short, it wasn't much fun.

The entry to the South Gate. Advertising? Tacky.

The old town was heavily targeted during the Balkan conflict and there was a map showing direct hits, total destruction, fires and so on. There were plenty of walls with patched shrapnel holes. It's hard to imagine the devastation unless you lived through it. With UNESCO help, the old city has been swiftly and faithfully restored.

The copy of Rome's Spanish Steps.

We entered through the extremely popular south gate and, in what has become a pattern, walked down the main thoroughfare before deviating to smaller side streets. The paving was, of course, limestone, highly polished from years of foot traffic.

A church.

There were churches. Yawn. Sorry. I have had it up to pussy's bow with churches. How many churches does one require? One per person? They'd be getting close. Hence today's title ABC by the Jackson 5 from 1970, although they didn't mean Another Bloody Church.

It was difficult to get a reasonable long shot of many of the buildings because, like so many of the other old towns, successive generations had better ideas and built over or next to existing buildings. I did wander inside a couple of the churches and I guess the interiors are always different and generally spectacular in their own right. But enough.

Another church.

Inside a church, not photographed above.

Once freed by our guide, we generally returned to the main sights to attempt photography with less of the vacuous selfie generation dominating the scenery. The cable car looked interesting but we did not have sufficient time for that side trip. Dubrovnik was interesting and I'd love to have been there early in the morning before the lice from the cruise ships arrived en masse. Further, I would have loved to have visited before Game of Thrones - whatever that is. And yes, there were cats.

Enough said.

There were the usual shops and restaurants and a duck shop. I bought a duck for one of my offspring, no prizes for guessing which one. It is wearing its cap backwards. Inscribed on it is "duck off".

A dizzying array ducks all in a row.

I wasn't sad to be leaving Dubrovnik because the crowds detracted from any enjoyment. For those who have been to Venice in summer when the cruise ships are in, it was no different. We returned to our pick up point and snapped a few pictures of the remarkable walls.

The walls of Dubrovnik.

Dinner tonight was the Captain's Farewell Dinner. A five course menu that our level of exercise did not warrant, but hey, someone has to do it. The food was excellent, the wine was upped a level and we had entertainment. Perhaps that should read 'entertainment'. A guitarist and a man playing (is that the right word?) a piano accordion. I could go on, but I believe at this point it is best to let you create your own image. We left the table early. Apparently followed by others. Was this a cunning ploy to see us all in bed early before disembarkation? If so, well played, Captain!

Oi! Cut that out.

The next morning brought the usual staggered departure, the first couple leaving at 5 am and the last at 5 pm. At 9 am, while we were waiting to depart and the ship was being cleaned around us, a passenger for the next cruise appeared at the gangway to be promptly told she needed to come back at 4pm. 

We were despatched to the airport at 11 am for a 1:55 pm flight to Zagreb, with a connecting flight to Barcelona. The flights were selected by the Croatia Airlines website. The traffic on the way to the airport was appalling and a 20 minute journey was closer to 40 minutes. No problems - we had time up our sleeve.

I attempted an online check-in. Unsuccessful. The next option was the kiosks at the airport. After 15 minutes of the spinning wheel of death, we approached the Business Class check-in and were told to wait for the Economy gate to open in a few minutes. We were second in line and everything progressed smoothly. Or did it? Cue ominous music.

Big Ted waiting for Jemima.

Amex has access to lounges in Dubrovnik airport so that's where we headed. Sort of. It appears signage in the airport is not a thing. Eventually we stumbled upon a nice person who informed us that my Amex card would not get us into the lounge because Amex had sent them the wrong card reader. To access the lounge would have cost €40 each. To the café pronto for an espresso and a wait.

Boarding time came and went and the crowd continued to build. And nothing happened. The PA system didn't quite reach Gate 22 where we were all waiting. Announcements were made and eventually filtered down to the head of the queue. The plane was delayed. The new boarding time was the same as the time we were supposed to boarding the flight to Barcelona. In Zagreb. Bugger, as they say in the classics.

Downstairs we went to the information desk. They couldn't help because they were not airline affiliated. We would need to speak to someone from Croatia Airlines. Fortunately for them, they were all on the other side of the security checkpoint. When boarding commenced, we knew we wouldn't be making the connecting flight. The only positive was our luggage was checked through and was still with us.

I have no idea but it was in Dubrovnik.

The flight from Dubrovnik to Zagreb is under an hour. We asked the attendant when we scanned our boarding passes what we should do. He didn't know, but he was sure someone would do something. We asked one of the flight attendants what we should do, but she also didn't know anything but was sure someone would do something. It was bumpy after we crossed the mountains and it was raining in Zagreb when we landed. We had no idea what awaited us. I laughingly suggested to Jayne that maybe, just maybe the plane we just left would be the plane to Barcelona. Yeah right.

We disembarked, there was no one waiting for us with our names on bits of paper. My phone pinged. A message from Croatia Airlines, our flight to Barcelona had been delayed and was rescheduled for 4:25pm. I didn't know if that was boarding or take-off. We had 25 minutes to get to Gate 24. Thankfully in the Schengen they are sensible and don't make you go through security again.

Another church door.

So we followed the signs to the flight transfer. Along the corridor, up the escalator, along the corridor, through the shopping areas, down the escalator, along the corridor to Gate 24, to wait to board the exact same plane we had just left and sit exactly one row behind where we sat on the flight to Zagreb. Amazing.

The flight was unremarkable, except for the woman, with the hacking cough, seated behind me. She was on the phone as the flight attendant did the safety briefing, and answered another call as we taxied and then another as we were speeding down the runway. The attendants ignored her. I wanted her to die. Her phone rang again as the plane hit the deck in Spain. Travel is supposed to broaden the mind, dear reader. Sometimes, however, the behaviour of the people you come across while travelling makes it easier for one to be racist. She was German for those keeping score.

We had arrived in Barcelona. We lucked an absolutely lovely taxi driver who chatted all the way in to the city and provided tourist information and points of interest on the way. The hotel, ME Barcelona, is stunning, the people are lovely, and in a Spanish moment, we went out to dinner at 9:30 pm. And that is enough from me.

Until tomorrow.