The path was unmarked—and we weren’t sure if we were trespassing—but the sound of the sea beckoned us and we kept moving forward. The secluded path that we stumbled upon on our first night in Croatia was a gift after the long day of travel and the emotions of leaving our daughter at home for the first time.
As we walked along the jagged cliff path that hugged the Adriatic Sea, we noticed there were places where the sea had carved away at the rock, where you could literally dip your toes in the refreshing water. Watching the sun sink in the sky—with the cerulean sea crashing on the jagged rocks—was exactly what we had imagined when planning our getaway. It was postcard-perfect. The breeze, the warm air, and the pink sky instantly untangled our knotted muscles and anxieties.
When babysitting became available—in the form of enthusiastic grandparents—my spouse and I jumped at the chance for a holiday sans baby. After much deliberation and hours of clicking away online, we decided on Croatia. Secretly, we hoped that it was still undiscovered. It would have been nice to brag to our American friends, “Hey we just came back from this exotic little spot called Croatia,” and they’d respond, “Oh my! We’ve never even heard of Croatia.” But, they have heard of it, because let’s face it, anywhere I’m comfortable going these days is pretty much discovered. It would have been even nicer to say to each other, “Hey, we’re going to Croatia and it’s costing us next to nothing!” Sigh … that would have been nice too.
Our research led us to the romantic city of Dubrovnik instead of the bustling port of Split. Perusing the images of the walled Old Town of Dubrovnik set against the azure backdrop of the Adriatic Sea, I imagined luxurious evenings filled with slow decadent dinners and pretty cocktails. I would be dressed in a flowing white sundress, the sea breeze playing with my long silky blonde hair, and my sun-kissed husband would wear a crisp white shirt and linen pants. But then, searching for a hotel in Dubrovnik proved difficult and expensive; and white is really not practical for cocktails or dinner; and well … my hair is chin-length brown.
We reevaluated our priorities and realized that we wanted a beach vacation and time to just “be.” So many of our trips end up being sightseeing marathons and we wanted this trip to be the antidote to the craziness of our lives. It seemed that booking a hotel in Dubrovnik, although fun, would put us in the thick of things.
We found a hotel on the island of Kolocep, a short ferry ride to Dubrovnik. The island was very quiet and rustic and it lacked the hustle and bustle of Dubrovnik. It also lacked the amenities—there was one tiny market and three restaurants, one of which was in our hotel. What Kolocep lacked in dining, it more than made up for in views and serenity, providing the beautiful calm and quiet that we so desperately needed.
That said, the beach outside our hotel was crowed daily with families and couples enjoying the sand and surf. We traversed the island, looking for a less populated beach and a local restaurant recommended by one of the hotel staff. The desert-like topography of the interior of the island was a stark contrast to the sapphire sea. Our walk was successful and we were rewarded with our own quiet beach and expanse of clear water. The water was crisp but refreshing given that the day’s temperature rose to the high nineties. Our day was spent swimming, reading on a bench, and sipping bevies—all to the peaceful soundtrack of cresting waves.
Glowing and hungry, we arrived at the recommended local dinner joint run by a Croatian family. It was nothing fancy—a beach cover-up wasn’t even required—but the food was authentic, and the large open terrace welcoming. The wife served while her husband, Mario, ran the grill. We could all hear her yell “MARIO!” after she took our order. Mario, who walked with a slight limp, made his way to the outdoor stone grill to heat up the coals. The meat or fish was cooked as you sipped a cold drink and watched the sun set.
We did make it to Dubrovnik and were greeted by enormous cruise ships double-parked around the old city. Their gigantic silhouettes dwarfed our ferry. The day was spent walking along the marble (yes, marble!) streets, walking along the wall that defined and protected the city, and sampling the ice cream. Brad has sampled ice cream all over Europe and gave Dubrovnik’s high marks.
The walk along the wall was a highlight. As the wall was built for protection, it dives dramatically into the sea. The light and views from here were intoxicating. The bullet-pocked wall told us stories as we trekked its elevated surface—stories of civil war and loves lost—and it allowed us a private glance into the heart of the labyrinth-esque city.
If you can overlook/outwalk the volumes of tourists, Dubrovnik itself is a fun place to explore, but we longed for our quiet little island. We ate dinner at an out of the way café, tucked away from the crowds. We were ready to leave the city when the ferry docked. The sun was setting as we watched the lights and nightlife of Dubrovnik recede, the warm sea breeze carrying us gently back.
A few days later, we headed for another walk along the sea, another dose of zen. We were hoping to capture the secluded scene and memories with our camera. This time it was during the day and we were surprised to find that our postcard view was now a very different postcard—the beach was teeming with sunbathers. We were happily traversing the path and found ourselves in the middle of a nude beach … with our camera. The scenery was a little more natural than we were looking for.
Brad and I walked right through a naked couple chatting. Naked! They were conducting a perfectly normal conversation, perhaps about dinner that night, or politics, putting it all out there with their views. The man was even blowing up an inflatable raft. Naked! Eyes averted, Brad and I stepped up the pace. We found a nice spot, without bathers, and settled in to listen to the waves ebb and flow and enjoy the view.
Then two men—several decades apart in age—both decided to stand and take in the view, taking out ours. We were book ended by naked men. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I wish I was making this up, but one man was sort of posing on a rock, explorer style. You know, with one leg up like he had just conquered land? In the buff. The waves, sun, and breeze couldn’t conquer the male anatomy overload that we were facing, so we fled. It made for colorful dinner conversation!
Our last morning we ate breakfast together, happy and refreshed after our quality time together. We wheeled our bags to the dock, and waited for the ferry, excited to return home to our daughter. I sat on the edge of the ferry—with my eyes closed and head tilted towards the sun—soaking in that “I’m so lucky” sensation.
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