Fantasy Friday: Dubrovnik

Dubrovnik Old Town is as beautiful as you think it is, likely more so, especially on a cool, clear February morning when the shuffling cruise ship zombies and slack-jawed Game of Thrones fans are months away for now.

Apart from this one, obviously. I should be more embarrassed than I am to admit that I came to this gobsmackingly gorgeous UNESCO World Heritage Site almost entirely because of Game of Thrones. In fact, as I yomp up the steps to the city walls – for Dubrovnik is a city of many steps – I’m almost squealing with excitement as King’s Landing reveals its medieval bones, even bereft of CGI.

Dubrovnik is a joy for the slack-jawed gawper. Every street, every stepped alleyway, every lantern-decked archway holds the promise of medieval treasures. Every high point offers another dazzling view of blue Adriatic, cypress-clad hills, rugged islands, terracotta rooftops and Byzantine stonework. And yet…

There’s nothing you really HAVE to do, apart from stroll the city walls and goggle at views.

Here are a few things I enjoyed. Flights of Croatian wines at D’Vino’s, a little wine bar on a narrow set of steps running up from the city’s main drag: full-bodied, earthy Dingač reds that occupy the space where Aussie Shiraz meets classic Bordeaux, and light, fruity Pošip whites.

Slurping fresh-from-the-ocean Mali Ston oysters out of their flat shells at Bota, overlooking the cathedral. In Mali Ston, less than an hour up the road from here, mineral springs impart the most spectacular array of flavours: hazelnuts and mushrooms await beneath that clarifying hit of sea.

Exploring the museums. The museum in the Rector’s Palace – Dubrovnik’s answer to the Doge’s Palace, complete with dungeons – gives you a handle on the city. But I’m a sucker for a small museum, and the Natural History Museum has everything I value in a small-town natural history museum: unsung local heroes (Croatian mosquito researchers—who knew?), eye-bleedingly bad taxonomy, and, this being Dubrovnik, fabulous architecture.

And the people! The welcome at my AirBNB was everything it ought to be and isn’t: a thorough sit down with a city map and a chat about what to see, where to go, and what to eat. And, I’m told, this is how Croatian hospitality always is.

So, when the crisis has passed, I recommend you get to Dubrovnik. Don’t fly. Let’s keep our skies clear. Catch the ferry down the coast. Or a bus from Zagreb or Split. Or the night bus from Vienna. Make it part of a longer, slower journey. And treasure it. Because, as we know, the old ways, like the good times, don’t last forever.