Day 35 – Dubrovnik gets taken at sunrise – declares peace by sunset . . .

With yesterday’s shenanigans fading quickly, we plan a full day in Dubrovnik to help erase them from our memories. No point in wasting precious time and energy. Some things and people are just not worth it.

The backdrop to many of the coastal cities, towns and villages along this coastline is stunning. Like a wildflower scratching out its life in scrub, their beauty is enhanced by the harsh landscape. This suspended crossing into Dubrovnik no exception.

The number 6 drops us right at the ‘Pile’ (gate) entrance into the old walled city. It’s heaving. Nationalities from all over. Herded in. Ocean liners, coaches and buses all filled to overflowing. Spill out their contents like split sacks of grain. Clusters cluster around in their own groups. Ears glued together intently by their local spiel. Eyes focus, follow their personal guide’s special flag. A raised red hankie on a stick. A multi-coloured brolly. An old tiny teddy, hanging on grimly – never for one minute thinking this would be how he’d end his days. All enter through the same gate. Like Confederate soldiers. Armed and ready to take control of the city. There will be no prisoners taken today. We join the throng. Four ruthless mercenaries in search of booty.

The city wall, at sixty metres short of two kilometres, is a medieval wonder, keeping out invaders for centuries. Including the short lived Serb/JNA bombardment in 1991, during the War of Independence. It lends us superb views of its inners . . .

– and outers . . .

After about seven hundred metres we are politely informed we’re walking the wrong way around. It seems there’s a one ways system in place. With well over two thousand people per hour doing a lap they probably need it. We are confused as to why we’re the only discombobulating ones. Think about staying non-conformists, but then comply. Like four little puppy dogs we turn tail.

Some soldiers walk the wall in uniform – dressed to kill . . .

We agree to return later. Call a truce. Wait for the armies to retreat. We want to take another look in the dark. This is the prize we came back for . . .