Walking the Walls of Dubrovnik

An idyllic guard tower (c) A. Harrison

I quickly discovered how even at seven in the morning on a summer’s day, exploring the walls of Dubrovnik is not for the faint hearted. Despite the early hour, heat radiated from the stones.

Walking them later in the day is simply for the foolish.

King's Landing, anyone? (c) A. Harrison

In a few hours a steady stream of people would be climbing the stairs, jostling to join the sea of sunburnt people already promenading under a blazing sun.

The stone stairs twist and turn before opening onto amazing views over the Adriatic. The water is such an amazing blue – so different to the waters of home. I could see boats cruising up and down the Dalmatian coast: yachts, fishing boats, cruise ships, expensive boats, pirate boats, even old wooden ships which look like replicas of trading vessels of yore.

A view back over the houses (c) A. Harrison

Turning the other way, I looked down from the walls into the maze of streets and alleyways. Such a network of courtyards, gardens, and balconies, punctuated by trees in pots, veggie patches, and more stairwells leading into the backstreets of the city.

Looking over the roofs, I could see the newer tiles used to replace those destroyed in the war of 1990-1999, as shells were lobbed from the surrounding hills into the city. Even today many locals won’t walk up into the hills, afraid of unexploded mines.

There be pirate ships (c) A. Harrison

Instead of walking the full circle, I descended near the Jesuit Church of St Ignatius. Before braving the sights of the town, I turned right into a lane which runs along the wall, following a sign pointing to cold drinks. Stepping through a hole in the wall, I went down to some stone steps which led down to the terrace of a cafe named, appropriately, Bûza, or the Hole In The Wall. We were the first to arrive for the day, and the the place to ourselves as we sat enjoying spectacular views of the Adriatic. Opposite was a large island covered in trees, peppered with grottos and caves at the water’s edge. It was simply glorious to sit there in the shade and watch the sun sparkle on the water, hidden from the hordes of tourist who sweep over Europe of a summer.

The bay of Dubrovnik (c) A. Harrison

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The Literary Traveller

The Bridge on the Drina was written by the Yugoslavian writer Ivo Andric whilst under house arrest by the Germans during WWII. The novel revolves around the bridge built by the Ottamans in the 16th C and destroyed in WWI, a silent witness to all which happens in these centuries.

It reflects on the lives of the Serbs and Bosnians during the occupation of the Ottamans and the Austro-Hungarian empire.

In 1961, Andric was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.