Seeing Croatia The Luxurious Way
Story and photos by Si Liberman
Move cursor over photo for larger view.
|
|
|  | Dubrovnik Outdoor Cafe | |  | Dubrovnik Synagogue Area | |  | Marco Polo Figure In Korcula | |
|
|
| 
|
|
|  | Silversea Silver Whisper In Dubrovnik | |  | Split Kids On Bikes | |  | Split Woman At Market | |
|
|
| I don't own a Rolls Royce. Probably never will, but a 12-day Mediterranean cruise sure has that privileged, luxurious feel.
Russian caviar? All you can eat.
Champagne? Pommery Brut Royale and Perrier Jouet Grand Brut plus other wines – all unlimited and complimentary.
Cuisine? As an honored partner of the prestigious Relais & Chateaux, Relais Gourmands, they deliver hors d'oeuvres -- ranging from caviar to shrimp to cracked-stone crab claws -- to your suite every afternoon.
Accommodations? A 700-plus square-foot suite (the size of a one-bedroom apartment) with two TV sets, a marble bathroom with stall shower and tub Jacuzzi, built-in wall stereo, two floor-to-ceiling sliding-window walls, and a long veranda.
The entertainment? Broadway-calibre.
Is it any wonder that Condé Nast Traveler magazine readers voted Silversea, "The World's Best Small Ship Line"? It wasn't the promise of unbridled luxury as much as the itinerary -- that includes visits to three war-touched areas of Croatia -- that sold us on the Silversea, an Italian-owned four-ship fleet with corporate headquarters in Fort Lauderdale.
My wife Dorothy and I boarded the all-suite, 382-passenger Silver Whisper in Istanbul after a hurried, haggling-filled visit to the fabled Grand Bazaar. Our booty: a few knockoff golf shirts (don't tell the other passengers) and some pashmina shawls.
Two days later, we were in Dubrovnik, a spruced-up old city struggling to regain its reputation as one of Europe's premiere resorts. "They were shelling us from up there in the mountains," our middle-aged Dubrovnik guide with brushed-back blonde hair explained. "For seven months, we were under siege. Two hundred people were killed and many homes had their roofs blown off. One woman I knew was killed while sitting in her kitchen."
That was in 1991. After declaring its independence from what was Yugoslavia, Croatia was attacked by its "big brother" neighbors Serbia and Montenegro. Dubrovnik was an early casualty of the ethnic-cleansing warfare that ultimately led to the dissolution of the six republics that made up Communist Yugoslavia. With their city under the gun and in chaos, many of the 50,000 residents fled. Many returned, but not before 1996.
Nearly two-thirds of Dubrovnik's buildings were damaged, but a democracy-focused government and populace that treasures its antiquities appear to have erased most of the evidence of those horrific days. Broken buildings, for the most part, have been repaired, and the old coastal city that weathered other attacks (and in some cases, occupation -- in years past by Italian, German, French, Hungarian, Austrian and Turkish forces) is gradually regaining its groove as a popular tourist destination. Or so it seems, gauging by the crowds we observed visiting the fortified, double-walled city that is now designated to be a UNESC0 World Heritage Site.
It is a gloomy, overcast June day and the town is abuzz with traffic. Buses line the streets outside of the medieval inner city, and armed police officers direct a steady stream of cars. Inside the walled area, umbrella-toting guides and tourists dodge intermittent showers while traversing the narrow streets, some dating back to 900 A.D. or to Roman times. Others are lined with outdoor restaurants and coffee shops.
Pointing to a glass-enclosed exhibit of ancient mixing bowls and crude utensils, our guide, who calls herself Gordona, beckons, "Look -- this was Europe's first pharmacy, it was founded in the 14th century."
Ever since Sept. 11, American visitors have been greatly outnumbered by those from Germany, Italy and England, she said, and the biggest spenders these days. are the Russians. "Free from communism and its restrictions, they are enthusiastic travelers who like to flaunt their wealth," Gordona said, "One can only imagine how they got their money..."
A nation of just 4.7 million residents, Croatia certainly has no shortage of politicians. "We have more than a dozen political parties -- sometimes it seems like there's one for every Croatian," she laughed. "I favor one party, my husband supports another, and my mother who lives with us votes for a different one altogether."
We also visited Korcula (pronounced Kor-chew-la), a tranquil, little-known island about 100 miles east of Dubrovnik; and Split, a picturesque Dalmatian city of 190,000 residents situated between the sea and a mountain range. Both are summer resorts with preserved, thick fortress walls, marinas, outdoor markets, ancient churches, small hotels and flower-lined streets.
Marco Polo, the earliest and probably best-known travel writer and explorer, is said to have been born in Korcula. Local legend tells of his leaving here for China in 1254 with his father and uncle, crossing the Gobi Desert and eventually finding himself in Mongolia.
A small sign in English marks his birthplace: a nondescript, three-story stone building near the town's 700-year-old St. Peter's Church. After paying a small entry fee and climbing a series of treacherously narrow stone steps, we found ourselves in an empty room no bigger than our shipboard bathroom. This is where Marco Polo was reported to have been born. Outside, a chipped, stone-sculpture bust of the bearded explorer rests against a wall.
Like Dubrovnik, Split survived the 1991 Serbian onslaught, but not without some damage. Today, Split is a rehabilitated, vibrant and clean city with a busy port, growing population and thriving 28-year-old university. It also boasts pristine beaches, mountains and treasured remnants of its 1,700-year history. Evidence of those perilous, early ‘90s days aren't apparent – at least not in the downtown area. But evidence of its occupation by Rome a millennium or so ago, is.
Its No. 1 attraction: the remnants of the enormous palace complex built by Roman Emperor Diocletian barely a half-mile from where our boat docked. We spent several hours there, first strolling through a big, open-air market; and then inside the enclave which has been transformed into a tidy marketplace with boutique designer shops, narrow alleyways, upstairs apartments, Roman monuments, and a Medieval church.
At the crowded open-air market, my attempt to snap a picture of a shell-game hustler furtively scooping up cash from unlucky players is met with hostility. A stocky – and agitated -- male spectator throws himself in front of my camera, shaking his head menacingly before pushing me aside. Being the fearless journalist that I am not -- I back off...naturally.
On other days, we visit the port of Napflion, a former capital of Greece, and Venice, where we tour the old-Jewish ghetto area, take a 40-minute gondola ride, and dine at the five-star Hotel Cipriani, which has entertained notables ranging from Bruce Springsteen to Princess Diana, and former U.S. Presidents Reagan, Nixon and Bush; and where room rates go from $600 to $6,000 a night.
We also stop at two other important Italian port cities: Bari and Civitavecchia. After disembarking at Genoa and touring both old and new sections of the city en route to the airport for our return flight home, there is a long wait at the airport (our plane is more than an hour late). We are frantically rushing to make a connecting Air France flight at Charles de Gaulle Airport near Paris when we hear a thunderous explosion. Just then, all hell seems to break loose. Two armed security men suddenly appear, looking quite agitated. With arms outstretched, they refuse to allow us to proceed. Despite our pleadings that our plane is about to leave, my wife and I, along with others, are ordered to go back downstairs and wait. Perhaps 10 or 15 minutes later (it seems a lot longer), an Air France employee motions for us to ascend the stairs and follow her. We do, and make it to our plane just in the nick of time.
We later learn what had caused the blast: an unattended suitcase had been found in the terminal. Fearing that it may have been left by terrorists, authorities had summoned anti-demolition technicians to blow it up. This is one vacation that we got a bang out of, both literally and figuratively.
Silversea Cruises operates four all-suite luxury vessels with capacities of less than 400 passengers to the Mediterranean, Alaska, Northern Europe, the Caribbean, South America, Africa, India and the Far East. Seven-day cruises to Croatian and Greek ports in 2008 have fares from $5,520 to $18,780 per person, not including airfare. Website: www.Silversea.com Tel: 800-722-9955.
©2008 by Authors/Owners Si Liberman, All rights reserved |
