Fairy Tales, Ferries & Fortifications

Tom Piper
May 19
7 min read

Updated: May 24

Croatia is actually Latin for the proper name Republika Hrvatska, which is tricky to pronounce if you're not from around here because it seems to involve a lot of throat clearing while you enunciate. And the Latin name Croatia itself is a derivation from Xərwate, so we just say Croatia.

Zagreb - The Capital

In my last post, I talked about how tumultuous the Balkans' existence has been for the past 2500 years (and undoubtably, much longer). A case in point would be our tour guide's grandmother. She was born in Zagreb in 1910 and lived in the same house for the next 82 years before passing away in 1992. During that time, she had been a citizen of 5 different countries.

Zagreb has a charming little old town that was originally two medieval hill towns separated by a ditch that fought incessantly with each other for a few centuries. One day, they looked over and said "maybe we join up instead?" And so it was.

Outside of old town is a lot of the Drabalist-style architecture with endless rows of block apartments and wide boulevards, probably dictated by Moscow in case they ever needed to march the Red Army down them.

We spent an evening on one of the walking streets in old town, just drinking beer and people watching. It was fascinating for its stark contrast to Ljubljana, just two-hours to the north. People in Ljubljana's are chic and fashionable in appearance, not unlike being in a posh part of London or Paris. Zagreb was like going to the hipster, goth, funkytown neighborhood near the University. Wildly entertaining, if you're drinking beer.

Tourism isn't just the primary industry in Croatia, it's basically the only one. The aforementioned wars, the Nazi puppet regime that appropriated all the Jewish factories (before they were bombed by the allies) and their own war of independence—all prertty much destroyed their manufacturing sector. Luckily, it's a very pretty country. So their cities, national parks, and the coastline in particular, draw in millions of sun-seekers and Game of Thrones fanboys and girls every summer. There are less than 4 million people in the country and 20 million visitors every year. It can get weird. But the people (at least those engaged in the tourist economy, which is probably most of them) seem resigned to it and are appreciative and polite.

Plitvice Lakes National Park

There is probably no greater travel blogger Intagram mecca on earth than the Plitivice Lakes. In all our travels, I'm not sure I've ever seen anything that more resembles a fairy tale come to life. I even felt a little bit badly about tossing my Red Bull can into one of the lakes, but I didn't see a garbage can that was convenient.

After Zagreb and the Lakes, we landed on the coast in Split. Split is where Diocletian, the last of the pagan Roman Emperors, retired (something quite unusual for an emperor actually) and built himself a waterfront palace, having tired of feeding Christians to the lions in the Colosseum. The palace is really more of a fortress because, apparently, even being the ex-Emperor was still a bit of a hairy business in those days. Hence, he had loads of solidiers garrisoned there, as well as a ready escape hatch by boat to some nearby islands.

It only took 10 years to build this massive, oppulent, palace that is now a UNESCO World Heritage site—which is astonishing. Evidentially, there were lots of slaves involved.

But still, who was the foreman on that job, and can I hire them for my next remodel?

Even our apartment was in a UNESCO protected site; a medieval palace with a lovely rooftop terrace looking out over Split and the Mediterranean; which we thoroughly enjoyed.

We left Split by ferry and journeyed out to one of the over 1200 islands along the coast. Most are uninhabited, but those that are large enough and have natural water supplies were typically first Roman and then Venetian settlements. Many, like Korcula, are walled cities.

Korcula is alleged to be the actual birthplace of Marco Polo, which is the name of an exceedingly annoying children's game. Whether this is true or not (being his birthplace, not whether the game is annoying), there was a cool shop with globes and compasses right next to our apartment. And the apartment—wow! Somehow we scored a huge apartment with a balcony perched over the wall, framed by beautiful pine trees. There were also dozens of restaurants to choose from with a similar view, which competed with the balcony for our drinking and eating time.

Ramblin' boy won't you settle down

Korcula was one of those places where the second I arrived, I genuinely had that moment where I thought... why not just STOP here? Enough of your rambling son. What are you running from?

Kocula seemed a perfect place to hide while the Crypto Climate AI Calamities unfold (which is precisely what I'm running from). In my new Korcula life, I will rise in the late morning and dreamily putter along the sea wall, stopping to have a cappuccino or inquire about how fresh the sea bass is today.

And, once I am an accepted local, I will likely end up helping these guys move their Coca Cola refrigerator up to the 3rd floor of a narrow medieval building, via the tiny window, using ropes, straps, a broom, and pieces of scrap wood.

Why? Because, well... because we're men.

And they said it couldn't be done

Departing comely Korcula, we had a very simple plan. Ferry to Dubrovnik. Uber to a rental car place. Drive the rental car to the Montenegran border. Pass through the peaceful kingdom of Montenegro to the Albanian border. Bribe the Albanian border police. And finally, drive deep into the Albanian Alps to a little town called Theth. The total trip was going to take about 9 hours, if all went smoothly.

It did not go smoothly, or go at all. We made it as far as step one. To the ferry. On the boat, I pulled up the rental car agreement where it stated, in no uncertain terms, you may not take the car to Albania (650 Euro fine for any violations). Small problem since Albania was meant to be our home for the next 20 days. Many hours of travel research performed back in Vermont was for Albania. We scrambled for another rental that would permit this, but to no avail. Apparently, bad things happen to rental cars in Albania?

Upon disembarking our ferry, we re-routed our waiting Uber guy away from the car rental office to Old Town Dubrovnik where we were dumped on the hot, bustling sidewalk with all our flotsam and jetsam, without a plan.

Despite having a 3-night reservation in Theth (which is in Albania), I started thumbing through my phone to find lodging for the night in Dubrovnik. But it was really bright out and it was hard to see my screen. Plus, since it was only 10:30 in the morning and most places don't allow check-in until 2PM, I wasn't super hopeful about this particular path of rescue. As it was, I was having trouble finding anything walkable anyway, even a cafe. At this point, Lori flipped out and just said "Great itinerary Einstein..." or something to that effect.

Just kidding - she didn't. She was totally calm, kind, and rational. In these moments, I especially appreciate Lori's travel demeanor and unshakable optimism.

About 45-minutes later, after a series of extremely confusing conversations on the phone with one of the local slum lords, we found ourselves urgently tailing a tiny but surprisingly swift Indian woman through a maze of ancient streets and tourist scrums toward our promised lodging, which turned out to a converted attic space that clearly operates outsides the bounds of the big booking websites or the local tourist authority (the further south we travel, the more we are confronted with "cash only" demands at our stays). But it was a roof over our heads.

It's All About the Walls

The Eastern Adriatic has never been a peaceful place. Often the only thing standing between you and some angry (Romans, Illyrians, French, Venetians, Huns, Pirates, or White Walkers?) was a good solid stone wall. Back in the day, they served to protect wealth and health. Now they generate wealth faster than than a lemoade stand in Hades. Folks LOVE a good walled medieval city.

Dubrovnik - aka King's Landing

Wall wise, this is one of the granddaddys of them all. It's huge. It's car free. It's incredibly beautiful, historic and dramatic (and, not incidentially, there are lots of hilareously entiltled cats everywhere, adding to the local color). This is in spite of about 60% of it being destroyed in the 1991 Croatian War of Indepence when the Serbs lobbed thousands of shells into the city killing almost 200 people. But with the help of UNESCO, generous donations, and lots of hard work, the city remains spectacular.

People have noticed. Dubrovnik is badly overtouristed. Cheap flights on the continent. AirBNB. And then Game of Thrones. Yet, Dubrovnik refuses to disappoint. It's just that cool. So imagine Disneyland-like crowds, with all those attendent moments of tourist absurdity, and it somehow still manages to impress.

There is still magic there. At least in May. I really wouldn't advise going in the summer.

We geeked out on history tours and, naturally, a Game of Thrones tour as well (Blackwater Bay, the Joffrey Rebllion, the infamous Walk of Shame, etc.).

Lori even sat the thrown. I did not as the weight of the crown is heavy.