Croatia: Dubrovnik

We arrived in Dubrovnik with our first solid plan of the trip. We had found two hostels we thought sounded nice, and directly we left the ship we hiked our way towards the first one. The day was hot and our bags were a bit heavy, so we told jokes to pass the time. The first hostel was a bit too much like a jail painted in pastels, and we moved on to the other. We arrived at the second hostel which from the outside looked just as bleak, but headed up the recently built stair way to the top floor. Upon entering an older Croatian man heartily greeted us and a well stocked community kitchen greeted our hungry eyes. Although Matt remained suspicious I fell under the spell of this hostel which, comparatively, looked so warm and inviting. But then, as always, things began to get strange. At first they told us it was full, then they told us they could give us their room, then they told us it was $30 a person and reacted very badly to our bargaining. In general we found bargaining in Croatia an unsuccessful endeavor. Most often our attempts were greeted with indignation, as if we had insulted them. Even in hotels where it seemed no one had stayed for the past month, the hosts were completely unwilling to lower the price. Perhaps it was a matter of their integrity, for they made it clear that they didn't need our money badly enough to barter. We tried many different tactics, particularly the classic "walk away" one, but to no avail - they just didn't care. However things with the hostel hostesses got a little more complicated. After denying our bargaining they told us they could take two dollars off the price for a particular room down stairs. They showed it to us and it turned out to be the weight room which we did not think was worth the discount. Back upstairs for more discussion, the lady of the house began calling people before telling us what she was doing only to inform us that a neigbour was coming over in a couple of minutes to show us her sobe. Glad to be away from the hostess, who had turned slightly aggressive and bitter towards us, we followed a waddling, old widow up the street to a modest house and a spacious studio with a double bed, a kitchenette, and clean bathroom. Though the price was the same we decided to take it, and felt a bit more welcomed as the old woman made us some "turkish" coffee (a.k.a nescafe).

That night we took it easy and splurged on a long Italian dinner with wine and conversation. We both felt uncomfortable, having not eaten much - an attempt to save money; and or spirits were low. Luckily, the food was tasty (and vegetarian, a thing long yearned for in this country), and after dinner we walked back to our room and watched a bad 1990s, American action flick starring Will Smith.

In the morning we rose early and walked to the famous old walled city. The city was as picturesque as they come; the marble streets literally sparkled, dazzling the eyes. Outside the city, on the waters edge, we took a short nap under the clear blue sky after swimming in the bright azure waters. Unlike Split, Dubrovnik retained its authentic charm and we enjoyed many hours walking through the small cobbled streets that wound steeply upwards, revealing old stone houses with orange-brick shingled roofs. We ate ice cream and drank cappuccinos and then headed back to our little room stopping at some chic Croatian bars to spend the last of our cash on a cold beer.



Before leaving to Montenegro it seemed we had to have another painfully awkward interaction with the natives. Arriving home we embarrassingly found that the room had been tidied and our dishes cleaned. On top of that we remembered that we had pulled out the stove and cabinets in an effort to plug in the electric stove, leaving the room and kitchen in disarray. All this had been put back in place. As we started cooking pasta, the old lady came in with salt and some cooking oil. She then proceeded to try to cook for us, dumping an exorbitant amount of oil in the pan and smiling childishly at our inability to understand each other. We tried very desperately to explain to her that we didn't want her to cook for us but she lingered for a very long time and we weren't sure what to do. She went up to her room finally, and we shut our door to make it clear that we wanted privacy. But she headed back down and watched Matt cook through a tiny window above the kitchen. She squatted and smiled that smile of hers while I hid in the bathroom trying to pretend that nothing strange was happening. After about 10 minutes she left. However, for the next night and morning she kept coming in at unexpected times without knocking, finding things to discuss with us which involved bringing over various neighbour translators in their curlers and matching pink sweat suits, and alternating between sweet and innocent and frsutrated and angry. We were at a loss. So, although we considered exploring Dubrovnik more, the next morning we took a bus to Kotor in Montenegro.