The sense of place in Dubrovnik is something that has caught me off guard. Nations come and go, wars fought, alliances changed, but these city walls still stand. The home is still the home, the church still the church. Restaurants move their chairs around to fit the changing weather, tenets come and go, but the cobbled streets of limestone get a little smoother every year under the pressure and friction of millions of steps.
Dec 6, 1991, this town was bombed. It started with the cross on top of the mountain behind the city in the early morning, and quickly much of the city was on fire. Everywhere you walk it is this interesting balance between Game of Thrones scenes, war memorabilia, tourist shops and the functions of everyday living, all boxed together by huge stone walls.
I feel like I am in a board game. There are well-defined edges, and the players of modern society, the history of the past, the needs of the tourist and the local are all playing out, one on top of another, each bending to find the space they need creating this interesting collage of experiences.
The summers here sound intense; our Airbnb host described it as 'rivers of people you must swim through to get anywhere.' She laughs when people say they are at the gate and they will be there in 10 minutes because she knows they will have to go "upstream," a walk the girls run in less than a minute in now.
These days thunderstorms come and go, the wind blows cold through the city, and the Christmas decorations are going up. A cruise ship or two a day bring a flock of glazed-eyed tourist making the rounds to the usual destinations, but in the evenings, the hum of the old town takes over. School groups gather at the church; a wedding procession makes their way through town, and little one curls up in the corner a the local bookstore enthralled in another book.
These are our last days in Croatia, probably our last days in Europe for some time. Croissants, hidden walkways, and cappuccinos - I am going to miss this place. But what I am taking away is a sense of transcendence, of inevitability to life: these walls, these mountains they stand and lay witness to our struggles and joys as individuals, as families, and as nations; they hardly change, but we change because of them. I have learned more about world history in these past few months than years in school. I read the paper every morning with a new light. With all of the history and struggles of Europe's past and present what I have noticed the most is the importance of time, art, and beauty so many people seem to capture in a decidedly non-American way. Much like the very first days in Bergen and all the potted plants, the little touches is what I have noticed the most. It is as if these old walls whisper, “you have yet one life to live, we will still be here; you don't always have to be practical." "Enjoy the cup of coffee, put a flower out to share and marvel at the sunset."
So off to coffee, to new adventures and to enjoy this little nugget of peace we found among to stones of war.
It is no wonder Game if Throns was filled here. This beach is Kings Landing.
Living in old town.
These walls are amazingly intact.
Exploring the walls around the city.
Headed to the old fort
When you only have a few cloths, you make new combinations. She said she wanted to try lots if different styles this year to figure out which one is really hers. Makes sense.
Layers of history.
Every night these lights make the walls around the city make the whole place glow.
If only this picture captured a fraction of the light and colors of this amazing sunset.
I have loved the little details of pride in this city.
Found this little one singing to herself. I love how the weapons of a war are now a place for a child to rest.
Only things you can do in the off season
These two! How did they get so big?
Every evening was another painting.
Soooo big! So fun to spend this year with these two.
Off to new adventures.
Little one stole the phone again.
One more year before she heads to high school!
The layers upon layers of history. Each piece with its own story.
Eating lunch in their own.
This sleepy city along the Adriatic bearing witness to the ever changing moods of humanity.