We’d not left it until the very last shuttle bus to return back to the cruise port on account of us not being insane but that didn’t stop it being a very packed bus arriving back alongside the ship at around the same time that a number of tour buses were also returning to drop off more passengers. Boarding was therefore not swift – not bad, but a bit more shuffling than you’d like – and the likelihood of getting into a lift to rise the five floors to our room in any short time was poor. We therefore did what we like to do a lot in this sort of situation: we walked a few floors, then stopped for a drink to break up the climb. Actually, if the gangway had been towards the centre of the ship instead then we’d have walked forward and used the forward bank of elevators to get to nearer our room but that wasn’t the case this time around so a drink in Brodie’s was the answer, followed by another one to then take up to our room.

The sail away from Dubrovnik wasn’t the most impressive by a long shot but we got to see a decent view of the Franjo Tuđman Bridge, named after Croatia’s first president, and of the USNS Carson City, an aluminium, catamaran-design, fast expeditionary vessel. We like bridges and we like ships so this was pleasant even if neither were fabulous examples of design in their respective fields.

It was hard not to be reminded of leaving Montenegro many years before when looking at steep and rocky hills dotted with pale buildings with orange roofs along the Croatian coastline out of Dubrovnik, although the former was far prettier and we had far better weather for it. A light but solid cover of cloud had come in just as the day started to cool down.

The waterway approach to Dubrovnik clearly wasn’t particularly dangerous or tricky for ships to navigate as our pilot wasn’t aboard Azura for very long at all before re-boarding his boat and zooming off back to land.

We didn’t have a lot of Croatian coastline to enjoy before the cruise ship made the turn to the south that left us with a more simple view of nothing but the Adriatic Sea but we spent all that time out on our balcony because it’s one of the reasons we book a balcony cabin on cruise ships for.

After we’d got ourselves showered and dressed for the evening but before we headed out for some food and drink and entertainment we were treated to a sunset, the colours of which reminded us a little of cruising past Argentina many years before, but only a little bit. Nothing will ever truly compare to that particular experience.

To finish, dinner then for this penultimate night aboard Azura, and because P&O Cruises are still a bit old-fashioned in this respect this meant reluctantly donning the tuxedo and formal dress for the pair of us so as to not be severely limited in venues we’d be graciously allowed to attend. We don’t mind the odd formal night and we quite enjoy them when everyone is free to dress as much or as little as they like, but throwing in restrictions is a dated concept in cruising that’s trying to appeal to a younger demographic and it needs to be thrown overboard.

Anyway, it was a celebration night meal, and it was at least nice to see some effort made from the cruise line to reward those who’d made the somewhat enforced effort to dress for the occasion.

There will be one more post to come in this Adriatic cruise travelogue series and that will cover the final day at sea on the way back to Malta and some final thoughts about the week-long cruise as a whole, because that’s the traditional way to wrap these travel writings up around here.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

With nothing firmly planned for the day we could afford to have a little bit of a lie-in, a leisurely breakfast, then head down to the shuttle bus into the old town area of Dubrovnik when we saw that the queue had died down. We were docked near the Dr. Franjo Tuđman Bridge and had briefly entertained the idea of walking to where all the more interesting things to see were – under four kilometres – and if the route had been a flat one then we might have, but flat it was not.

We didn’t see the queue diminishing in size at all after breakfast and didn’t want to keep our steward from cleaning our room any longer so eventually headed down and joined a long line in the sunshine. There were some grumblings about not enough shuttle buses being put on but I don’t think we were out there too long. Once we’d actually taken the bus we realised that the small drop-off point near the old town was a limiting factor to how many buses could reasonably make the journey to and from the ship without blocking the road up. Locals in popular cruise destinations get grumpy enough as it is without that sort of thing adding to their frustrations.

We were dropped off close to the sixteenth century Pile Gate and joined the crowd threading its way through it and into the old town. We immediately saw signs for the Wall Walk, converted the value from Euros to Sterling, said “Fuck that for a laugh!”, and decided we’d explore inside the walls instead for no money. We’re not tight – far from it – but we like to get value for money, and the cost was hard to justify for what we imagined would mostly be a slightly elevated view of what we were going to see anyway but with less access to anything and likely no shade at all. Nah, not for us.

Dubrovnik was exceedingly pretty at first glance with walls of white stone glaringly bright under the bright sun. Much of the city was flattened in an earthquake in 1667 but some gorgeous rebuilding work took place to produce the incredible sights you can see today. That earthquake did cause some loss of history and architecture, naturally, so there are elements of fifteenth century Onofrio’s Large Fountain – the most obvious structure we first saw upon passing through the gate into the city – that are lost forever.

We slowly wandered the length of Stradun as it looked like the main street of Dubrovnik’s historic old town based on the volume of fellow tourists, peering down each alley we passed on the lookout for anything of interest. Surprisingly, we didn’t see a lot, but we were loath to divert from the main route at first as it seemed we were more likely to see “the big sights” of Dubrovnik by sticking to the wider thoroughfare.

We reached the end of Stradun and the first of three churches that we would end up taking a look inside. This one was St. Blaise’s Church, named for the patron saint of Dubrovnik, and delightfully Baroque, architecturally. A Romanesque church had stood on this spot since the middle of the fourteenth century when the Black Death made its appearance and it was felt a church might just remind God to protect the people (don’t roll your eyes; people don’t think vaccines protect you these days and we’re all supposed to be a lot smarter than medieval peasants), and you might be thinking “Ah, yeah, but you’ve already mentioned an earthquake so I guess it didn’t survive” and, no, it actually did. However, Blaise’s by name and, as it turns out, Blazes by nature, because in 1706 it burnt to the ground instead.

Back into the Croatian sunshine, a quick check of the map, and we headed in the direction of the old port area and bastions surrounding it. Eastwards, in other words.

Now, I told myself when I began writing this travel account of our day in Dubrovnik that I would not mention Game of Thrones, partly because everyone mentions Game of Thrones, but largely because we’ve never seen Game of Thrones and therefore knew nothing about Game of Thrones, but I have now mentioned Game of Thrones five times in this paragraph and that’s because we started associating Dubrovnik with fabulous doors and decided we were going to call it the Game of Doors city instead. I suspect it won’t catch on.

The port area of the old town of Dubrovnik was exactly how you’d expect a boat-filled marina in front of a stone landing area beside high-walled fortifications to look, and yes, we always like to see the sea whenever we’re travelling anyway, but it was also nice to get away from the glare of the solid white stone architecture of the city.

To the second church next, or more accurately, Dubrovnik Cathedral. Unlike the first church we’d seen, the cathedral that had formerly stood on this spot was mostly destroyed in the 1667 earthquake and had needed rebuilding. Interestingly, the basilica that had not survived had been partially funded by Richard the Lionheart as thanks for surviving a shipwreck just off the coast during his return from the Third Crusade.

The façade of the cathedral had some lovely Corinthian order columns and a pair of statues erected high above the main entrance. One was of Joseph and the other of St. Blaise. A gold-plated arm, leg, and skull of St. Blaise are amongst the building’s most important relics although we never got to see them.

We carried on in an approximately clockwise, generally random walk through Dubrovnik’s narrow alleys, constantly on the lookout for… anything.

Now, if we’d paid a lot more attention to the map than we had, if we’d zoomed in enough for items to appear, if we’d done any sort of proper research beforehand, then we might have noticed that we were remarkably close to a maritime museum and an aquarium, and we would absolutely have visited them. But none of that happened and we headed off another way entirely.

We found another church. You knew one was coming because I’d already mentioned there’d be three.

Baroque in style, once more, this was the Church of St. Ignatius, and probably my favourite of the churches in Dubrovnik that we saw. I’ve only shared a few photos from inside it but there seemed a bit more atmosphere and more variety in its relatively small interior. Work had begun on the clearance area for its construction in the seventeenth century when the earthquake put a halt to proceedings, and work didn’t subsequently begin until the next century making it the most modern of the three buildings we visited. The church’s belfry houses Dubrovnik’s oldest bell, cast in 1355.

One thing we did spot on our map was a bar just outside the city walls, apparently with lovely views out to sea, and a must-visit place according to lots of people who visit Dubrovnik, and it was close by so we headed towards it. We found it without incident but to say it was popular would be doing a disservice to the word popular. It was heaving. I took one photo from outside the wall we’d passed through and that was in the split second that I wasn’t being jostled on the narrow steps down to the location. It looks quiet and peaceful. It was not.

The idea of having a drink in a bar was now firmly in our heads – I’m not fooling anyone here it’s always firmly in our heads – and we could see that we’d mostly wandered the insides of the expensive walls as far as interest appeared, so we tried to work out the most direct route back towards the tourist heart of Dubrovnik’s old town as that was where we could see bar symbols appear on the map with enough frequency to suggest we might get a seat out of the sun somewhere. It was quite surprising how high in elevation we’d climbed without completely being aware of it.

We passed a couple of busy places that seemed to primarily cater for those wanting to eat before suddenly spotting a sign that said “Local Beer” and that won us over. Shade, beer, and toilets which we were both in need of by this time as it had been thirsty work walking around the hot, bright city.

The drinks were fine but what we had amounted to the limit of what was available so I did a little more checking on the map while we sat and rested and located somewhere that sounded a lot more interesting. A few minutes walk brought us back along Stradun then down one of those narrow alleys we’d bypassed earlier in the day, and then to Glam Bar.

We were immediately reminded of our visit to Kotor years before, sitting outside a bar in a narrow, stone-walled alley, drinking beer. It was cool and the range of very local beers and other national offerings was huge and very varied. We thought we might stay for a couple of drinks but three people sat down next to us; a man a little younger than us and his two more elderly parents, all fellow cruise passengers, though we hadn’t seen them before this. It turned out that he was a keen craft beer drinker too and his parents were tolerating his visit to this bar. We all got talking, and then we realised that with three of us keen to try as much as possible we could start sharing drinks (not glasses; we’re not mental). His parents suggested they go back to the ship and leave him with us until the last bus home but he decided not to do that, though not after the lot of us had probably worked our way through the vast majority of ales on offer with some of the pastry sours being some of the most wonderful things we’d tasted. Glam Bar was a fantastic place to drink in Dubrovnik for craft beer lovers.

We didn’t leave it quite to the last shuttle bus back to Azura but it wasn’t far off before we took the short walk back to where the bus would be and joined the queue nearly as long as the one we’d been part of in the morning.

We liked Dubrovnik but we weren’t wowed by it in quite the same way a lot of other people seem to be, but a few hours and no planning always comes with that risk. The city’s reconstruction following its earthquake lent everything a similar look that was initially wonderful, but soon became a little bit monotonous. There wasn’t enough of a variety in the architectural design we’d have liked to see.

However, we missed out on the museum and aquarium that would have changed things up a lot, and we didn’t take time to wander up and down all the alleys that likely hid a multitude of interesting treasures. That means that this is a city we could and should return to and explore more some other time, and we know for certain they’ve got at least one place that does fantastic beer. We still won’t do the walls walk at that price, though.

In the next post in this cruise travelogue series we’ll be back aboard the ship for the sail away from Dubrovnik with a sea day to look ahead to at the end of our week in the Adriatic.

A mandatory photograph of Azura is below. There’s an old maritime law about having to take a photograph of your cruise ship from the port as you get back on and us cruise and travel bloggers don’t like to flout with these casually-enforced rules just in case we’re never allowed to board.

The view from our starboard-side balcony before we departed didn’t offer much for the eyes to feast upon but a flat blue sea and the silhouettes of hills isn’t bad nonetheless. Some locals were also out and fishing near the port.

After casting off, though, Azura did a one-eighty and proceeded northwards along the Croatian coastline bringing views of distant mountain ranges and the signs of human construction and habitation that inevitably forms near the sea.

Rhapsody was in the port of Zadar too. A cruiseferry operated by GNV now and capable of carrying around two and a half thousand passengers and over seven hundred vehicles, Rhapsody is of some interest in having previously collided strongly enough in Marseille during strong winds to take on water and list in the harbour. At that time she’d been known as the Napoleon Bonaparte and she was eventually bought by MSC, refloated, then sold to GNV.

The remainder of the sail out was spent just enjoying the sights from the balcony – it’s one of the reasons to choose balcony cabins when cruising – and seeing if we could recognise any parts of the old town of Zadar we’d explored earlier in the day as we cruised past.

I’ll finish with a look at the evening’s dinner aboard Azura because there will always be someone who wants to see pictures of main dining room menus and the food on a cruise ship.

There’s just one more port of call on this short Adriatic cruise aboard Azura and in the next post in this cruise travelogue series I’ll cover what we saw on a day in Dubrovnik.

This post will simply serve to show some phone photos of some of the exhibits you could expect to see should you visit Zadar, and if you’ve a passing interest in ancient history or if you’ve gained some interest just from seeing what’s out in the public spaces outside the museum, then this is a museum that’s well worth a look around. It’s very cheap to enter but, at least when we were there (and likely because it was cheap and wanted to avoid card transaction fees), it was a cash only establishment, whether for the entrance fee or any of the souvenirs in the gift shop. As we only had a little physical money on us this limited what we’d have liked to do which would have been to buy something in addition to looking around. That’s us, though, and I know that other people – like the museum – are still positively twentieth century about the whole money situation.

From a window on the first floor of the museum we could see the forum outside, the church and tower, and people enjoying the area, and you can see for yourself just how utterly beautiful Zadar was on the day of our visit.

Zadar was the penultimate port of call on our 2023 Adriatic cruise aboard Azura and we’d decided not to take any excursions while visiting. This meant we could be a bit more leisurely about waking up, enjoying the sights from our balcony, having breakfast, then making use of the shuttle bus service to get us to the city as where we were was not even remotely close. I reckon we were docked about five kilometres away from anything you’d really like to see and, having taken the bus, it’s not a route I’d have enjoyed walking. I mean, I don’t particularly enjoy walking anywhere at the best of times but it wouldn’t be a visual feast for the eyes for anyone who does anyway.

The bus dropped us off at the very tip of the peninsula on which the old town of Zadar was situated, and it would be from this same spot that we’d be picked up later in the day. The amount of blue everywhere was staggering; this was a gorgeous part of the world to visit when we did. Piercing blue sky over deep blue, calm water, and blue silhouettes of the land masses of the Zadar Archipelago, the group of islands forming a natural protective barrier to the mainland.

If you’re trying to determine from a map precisely where we were then do a search for the Monument to the Sun and that’s it. This impossible-to-miss circular patch of glass set into the blindingly white stone tiles of the surface is made from three hundred glass panels containing solar cells that power the light show that turns on each night. This large piece of public art, as its name tells you, represents the sun, but if you walk along the peninsula then you’ll find small circles set along it for each of the planets of the solar system.

In the background of that photo above you can see people sitting down on a stepped area down from the main level, facing the water. They’re enjoying the views, of course, but that’s also where Zadar’s famous Sea Organ is located. Created by Nikola Bašić, the same architect responsible for the Monument to the Sun during the reconstruction work along this part of the waterfront, the organ uses the natural movement of the waves pushing through a series of tubes to generate sounds. It’s a fascinating thing to hear for a short period but if, like us, you have to stand next to it for twenty minutes as you wait for a bus at the end of the day, then its random tones might just get a little grating.

We’d known before visiting Zadar that it had a lot of ruins out in the open, originally part of a Roman Forum, but we hadn’t expected there to be quite so many. It was absolutely wonderful to see things of this sort of age and arguable historic importance in plain sight.

While this land along the Adriatic had been inhabited sporadically since the prehistoric period, a merging of various tribes from about the fourth millennium BCE onwards created a new ethnic group called the Liburni, and Zadar as a proper laid-out settlement arose in the ninth century BCE. With good coastal access they gravitated towards sailing activities, gaining a reputation for their seamanship and trading, and had established a large area over which they effectively governed before the Romans started to spread across the continent in the second century BCE. However, because their trade was important, the Liburni were able to avoid most of the conflicts in the region, even when the Romans were engaged with allies of theirs. This lasted until 59 BCE when civil war in the Roman empire between Julius Caesar and Pompey dragged the people of Zadar into the conflict on the side of Caesar. At the conclusion of that war, the victorious Caesar awarded Zadar the status of Roman Colony and settlement by Roman citizens then followed, along with the sort of architecture that you find in ruins all around the Mediterranean to this day.

The tall column below is known as the Pillar of Shame as it was used to tie those accused of bad deeds to so that the public could taunt them.

It wasn’t just the forum itself that was fabulous, but some of the buildings around it couldn’t help but be admired too, and the one that stood out to us more than any other was that of the Church of St Donatus. Constructed around the ninth century CE this was built with some elements taken from the forum so it’s still possible to see some Latin inscriptions and Roman decorations on stones inside despite dating from centuries after the empire’s collapse.

We went inside because we were nosey but also because we felt that it would be cooler out of the blazing sunshine on this part of Croatia, but our respite from heat and sweating was quickly eliminated when we realised we could climb up part of the building’s twenty seven metres in height, and proceeded to do so even though neither of us really wanted the extra exertions.

Back outside, and directly opposite the church was Zadar Archaeological Museum. We like museums. We like archaeology. We liked Zadar already from our short time there. We paid a visit and took some photos, and you can read that here: Zadar Archaeological Museum.

After our enjoyable visit to the museum we decided to head roughly eastwards towards a park. We passed some bars on the way and, amazingly for us, fought off the temptation to grab a drink, then came to Five Wells Square. You won’t be surprised to learn how many wells were there. The area dates from the medieval period, around the sixteenth century, when the city came under threat then siege from the Ottoman Empire, and defensive walls and a secure water system from a public cistern became necessary. Gates set into the walls can be found around the old city of Zadar and the one we passed at this point is considered the most attractive, sporting a Venetian lion sculpture above it.

We then arrived at Queen Jelena Madijevka Park, an oasis of green amongst all the white buildings and orange tiles under the blue sky we’d experienced thus far in Zadar. Leaving my wife on a bench at the bottom – getting her up one set of unexpected steps in the church earlier was quite enough for her for one day – I made my way to the top of the hill that forms the centre-point of the park and affords a lovely view across the old city in every direction. A lovely spot, but not very large, and not a must-see by any means if you’re visiting Zadar to be fair.

We decided we’d make our way back to the bus at this point, and if we passed anywhere that did local beer then we’d stop for one, but our route along the shoreline was devoid of anything that would quench a thirst and so we soon ended up back where the bus had dropped us off.

We had quite a wait as a lot of cruise ship passengers were already queueing and it wasn’t until the second bus turned up that we were able to get out of the baking sun reflecting off the blindingly bright surface near the Sea Organ. As I’ve already mentioned, this also treated our ears to tens of minutes of its random, occasionally harmonious, more often discordant tones.

We really liked the old city of Zadar a lot. Great history, great sights, by the sea, easy access to ruins, a nice variety of historic periods and associated architecture to admire, wonderful little alleys with plenty of indication that the nightlife would be wonderful here in the summer. Certainly, we’d not be unhappy to return for a longer visit at some point, but for this occasion the remainder of our day would be spent back on board Azura for the sail away.

We don’t like to leave it to the last minute when returning to a cruise ship, even if we can see it – and we could from the waterfront in Split – because we’ve got no intention of ever wearing ourselves out with a route march or run in case the distance turns out to be deceptive (that’s happened before) or there are obstructions that turn a straight line path into something more chaotic (that’s happened before too). Memories of looking at phones and proclaiming “But there’s a road here on the map! Where’s the road!?” surface at times like this.

As it was, it was a very straightforward, gentle walk in the Croatian heat directly to the cruise port. No big distractions slowed any of us with a camera down (that’s happened before, and earned me The Look from my wife) and boarding involved barely a queue at all.

Every cruise blogger hears the call to take a photo of the bow of the ship in port. The sirens of the sea reach in and compel us to act this way.

We grabbed a light bite aboard and a drink to take back to our room – no really useful room service bringing you anything from the extensive drinks menu without costing an arm and a leg on P&O Cruises, sadly (one of our favourite things to do when getting back aboard a Princess ship after a day in port) – then sat out on our balcony to write up notes of the day’s excursion in Split, backup pictures, charge cameras and phones, but mostly just relax and read and soak in that feeling of being in your own little private space with daily changing sea views somewhere new and foreign. Cruising is better than not cruising. Just so you know.

Before Azura departed from Split we got to watch MSC Sinfonia depart before us as she had been in port on that day too. A very odd-looking ship with a certain appeal to us despite or, more likely, because of it. At the time of writing we haven’t cruised with MSC but that is about to change in the very near future.

The pilot boat approaching to shadow Azura signalled it was time for our cruise ship to wave goodbye to Split.

We stayed out on the balcony long enough for us to clear some of the shallower waters and start to pick up speed towards our next port of call, all of which coincided with an increase in blustery wind on the balcony. It had been lovely and hot ashore in Croatia but this was still April and not far off sunset time at sea so that wind had a bit of a bite to it.

Finishing off our very first day visiting Croatia is a quick look at the dinner aboard Azura that evening and some evidence that we decided to treat ourselves to a tiny cocktail each, as if you couldn’t guess that we’d done so already.

In the next post in this 2023 Azura Adriatic Cruise series of travelogues our ship will be docking in Trieste, Italy but we’ll be heading off to spend most of the day across the border in Slovenia, starting with a tour of its capital city Ljubljana.

The place that everyone visits when they’re in Split is Diocletian’s Palace, and you will too if you come here. You just won’t be able to help yourself.

The palace is more accurately a miniature garrison town in its own right, originally having been built at the end of the third century CE as a home for the retiring emperor Diocletian with room for soldiers and family, all within a square structure modelled on Roman forts. In the centre of each long wall there was a gate, each with its own name, and the one on the southern side through which our guide led us was called the Bronze Gate. This would originally have been on the water’s edge aligned with the walls of the first picture in this post so you can see how much waterfront land has been reclaimed over the centuries, and it would originally have been the way by which Diocletian would have entered the complex by boat. Or swimming. Maybe he liked a nice swim.

Passing through the Bronze Gate took us into the cellars, the original purpose of which in addition to obviously housing wine and food, was to raise the level of Diocletian’s private apartments above with their south-facing views of the Adriatic. In the medieval period these cellars were occupied by refugees seeking protection within the city’s walls.

Once you enter the main court of Diocletian’s Palace – you’ll know you’re there from the crowds if nothing else – you’ll be greeted by the bell tower of the Cathedral of Saint Domnius behind the impressive peristyle (the tall porch of columns around the courtyard) and a granite sphinx.

Part of the cathedral was formerly the mausoleum of Diocletian while the bell tower was an addition in around 1100 CE, originally sporting Romanesque designs fitting in with the surroundings but losing many of them in renovation work undertaken early in the twentieth century. The result is still not displeasing to the eye, though.

The sphinx is the last remaining intact of what might have originally been twelve of the sculptures brought to the palace as guardians of his body after death by Diocletian. Believed to be from around the reign of Thutmose III who ruled as pharaoh in Egypt in the mid-1400s BCE, the sphinx is unusual in having human arms rather than lion paws.

We’d entered Diocletian’s Palace from the south gate so it made sense to exit through the north gate and that’s what we did after winding our way through some narrow alleys out of the main court. This brought us to the Golden Gate, although the gate names and their association with metals dates from centuries later than the period in which Diocletian would have lived in this part of Split. The area just within the city walls from this gate would have been a guard passageway.

Just outside the city walls we could see two impressive, towering sights. It’s hard not to have your eyes drawn immediately to the classic square tower form with pyramidal top of the bell tower and the Chapel of the Holy Arnir, unless there’s a huge sculpture to Gregory of Nin dominating the view instead, and that was the case here.

The bell tower was only finished in the early eighteenth century, an addition to what had been an eleventh century monastery on this site. In the late nineteenth century the bell tower was gutted by fire and the monastery was demolished several decades later leaving just the tower behind.

Gregory of Nin was not, as his name might imply, a musician who worked with Trent Reznor. It’s simply a location name, silly. He was a bishop responsible for conducting masses in Croatian rather than Latin in order to make them more accessible to the local populace and he often had differences of opinions with his superiors in the church. The sculpture was erected in 1929, originally located in the peristyle of the palace, then moved when the Italians occupied Split in World War II, and moved once more to its current location in 1954.

As is often the case with many metal statues around the world, rubbing one part of it is said to bring luck. Nobody knows why this started or what sort of luck can possibly be brought by touching metal that’s also just been touched by countless nose-wipers and recent toilet-users who’ve not washed their hands – unless it’s the luck of seeing if you can avoid catching something that upsets your digestive tract – but if you want to chance your arm and/or you’ve got a foot fetish then Gregory of Nin is waiting for you in Split.

Our walking tour of Split finished with a wander to a couple of squares and we started with the People’s Square (not its official name, but the one by which it’s known).

This part of Split was the first to be occupied by people once they started to move outside the protection of the city walls of Diocletian’s Palace. It was a bright, open space surrounded by buildings in a variety of styles and for varying purposes. The most notable feature about this spot was that it connected to the palace by the western gate; this was the Iron Gate, a narrow entrance with a church tower in the Romanesque style erected above and to one side of it, and with an unusual and attractive Renaissance era clock face featuring 24 hour markings.

A little to the south of People’s Square was another with the local name of Fruit Square thanks to its history of serving as a marketplace; the official name, though, is Radić Brothers Square. This irregularly-shaped square was quieter than the one we’d come from, largely shaded thanks to the remains of a fifteenth century Venetian castle, and, for me, a little more pleasant for both those reasons and the Baroque touches on the architectural styles of the buildings that lined its edges. A statue of the national poet of Croatia, Marko Marulic, rounded off this charming spot in Split just nicely.

We could have followed our guide back to the bus to be dropped off closer to the cruise ship at this point but, despite the heat of the day and us not being keen on a lot of heat in the day, it was just too gorgeous to do anything other than slowly walk back instead as we had time enough to do so. We headed out to the promenade to soak in some of the sights along Split’s gorgeous waterfront area and Marjan Hill in the distance forming a backdrop to the impressively large Church and Convent of St Francis before hugging the coast in the opposite direction and towards the port.

On this day where Azura docked at Split, Croatia we only spent a short period of time in the city itself so that we could see what was also nearby in Trogir in order to make the most of our time here and get a feel for the place. This was our first experience of Croatia and we loved it, even if there was more than a passing familiarity with much of the architecture and history thanks to visiting not-too-distant Montenegro a few years earlier. We’d absolutely love to return to Split at some point, and perhaps sooner rather than later, as it felt there was plenty more to appeal to our loves of history and architecture.

In the next post in this Azura cruise travelogue series we’ll complete our first day in Croatia with some time aboard the ship ahead of the sail away from Split.

Lunch was taken a short drive from Trogir at a former mill called Mlinice Pantan (although we also saw a sign referring to it as Konoba Mlinice so check out both if you’re looking for more details about this restaurant). I never did find out anything about the history of the building other than a reference to the fact that some of the parts of the mill came from Venice.

We were treated to a couple of forms of entertainment during our lunch stop on this tour, although the first of those was unplanned. I hope. A wide lake separated the car park area from the restaurant building and there was a variety of bird life around. Much to many people’s amusement – though that seems a bit sadistic to say – some of the local geese were in the middle of a blazing row as we arrived and they had no intention of stopping while we filed off the bus and gathered by the side of the water to take in the views that would otherwise been idyllic were it not for all the honking and splashing going on.

The lunch that came as part of this tour consisted of bread, prosciutto, cheese, and some local wine. I won’t confess to being blown away with any of it, but then I limited myself to bread, prosciutto, and red wine only because I have the good sense to find cheese revolting and white wine questionable at best. For all I know, though, the cheese and white wine might have been spectacular. I doubt it. What it definitely wasn’t, however, was much more than a snack. But, welcome enough, and it provided an opportunity for those who needed to use the toilets to do so, and it kept us all in one spot for the second bit of entertainment here in the form of a couple of local musicians and singers.

With my light meal quickly devoured and my wine glugged down I stood up to take some photos of the room we were in. There were lots of little pieces of artwork and religious items around the walls with many representations of places in Trogir.

As I thought I’d run out of things to take photos of at Mlinice Pantan, someone who may have been the owner nodded to me, looking at my camera, then proceeded to unlock and open up a door and gesture for me to head in and down some steps. Far from being a lure into a dungeon where I would be forced to work the mill and never be seen or heard from again, this was simply a lower room almost set out like a museum with lots of mill stones and associated equipment to look over.

A second door was then opened that granted me access out the back of the restaurant where a stone walkway extended out into a shallow pond of clear water with long grass along its edges. The clear blue sky, the pale stone and orange tiles of the old building, and being close to water with a gentle wash of nature’s noises around was absolutely enchanting. I had to rush back in to bring my wife out to see it all, and we might have been the only two who did with everyone else mingling on the other side of the mill building, waiting to be told when to board the bus.

So, you didn’t tell anyone else in the tour group about the lovely views at the back of the mill then, Mark?

I have checked my notes from the day and apparently I did not, no.

The time allocated for our short stop at Mlinice Pantan came to an end so we wandered back through the restaurant and former mill and over the bridge over the sluice gate and beside the lake. I had just enough time to wander away from the bus to take a photo of the old storage tanks and earn myself a few quizzical looks from fellow cruise passengers on this excursion before returning to the vehicle. Can I help it if I find old, rusted metal cylinders with fading paint on them worthy of a photograph?

In the next post in the 2023 Azura cruise to the Adriatic travelogue series we’ll be taken back to Split and led on a short walking tour of some of Split’s highlights ahead of a little free time to explore on our own once more.

We’d been taken to the cathedral and treated to some traditional singing in the loggia by the town square in Trogir so if you’ve not seen the photos video or read that, or if you want to read a little about the history of Trogir and its eclectic mix of architecture then you can check that out here: P&O Cruises Excursion In Split, Croatia: Trogir And Cathedral.

But for this post, a very short walk to the southern part of the small island on which Trogir sits in the Adriatic and a wander towards Kamerlengo Castle – but not in it, sadly – with some pictures of this delightful Croatian town on a bright, sunny day for you to feast your eyes upon.

We emerged at the waterfront area between the Church and Monastery of St Dominic and the Petar Berislavić elementary school. The church dates from the thirteenth century with portions added to it through to the fifteenth century, but it required renovation in more recent times to repair damage suffered during the Second World War. The school’s architecture is arguably more interesting, showing off the Venetian Gothic style with its clear influence from Islamic architecture reflecting the trading history between the different cultures.

Kamerlengo Castle also dates from the Venetian rule period of Trogir. A fourteenth century tower on the spot was extended in the following century with walls and more towers to form the fortifications we see today. The purpose was to protect against attacks from the Ottomans but there’s no record of it ever being needed. A tale associated with the fortress associates the name with that of a governor who fell in love with a woman from Trogir but was not permitted to marry her. The woman died of grief and the governor’s wife gave birth to a girl who resembled the woman he’d loved, but she also died young and his wife left him. He then never spoke again. I didn’t say it was a happy tale.

Trogir-born Augustin Kažotić, bishop of Zagreb in the early fourteenth century, gets himself a statue in the town.

As our visit to Trogir took place close to Easter it wasn’t too surprising to see some reference to it in the form of large, colourful eggs.

As we left the small island on which Trogir was located and headed across the bridge back towards the car park we passed a sculpture to fallen soldiers in wars.

That concluded our short look around Trogir and it was a charming place indeed, and easy to see why it’s a popular spot for locals and visitors from farther afield alike. In the next post in this cruise travelogue series our day’s excursion will head back towards Split with a stop at a former mill called Mlinice Pantan for lunch.

We awoke to glorious sunshine and mostly clear blue skies. There wasn’t much wind but it did have a slight nip in the air. Breakfast offerings on Azura for the second day in a row were poor, and while we don’t like to eat too much when we’ve got an excursion booked anyway – just to cut down on sudden loo trip needs – it was still a disappointment not to have the choice, as you can imagine.

Our tour trip to Trogir started at 10:00 and it didn’t take too long to drive the roughly twenty five kilometres to the parking area just over the water from the small island on which Trogir was situated. Did that mean that there was no need for anyone to use the public toilets by the car park since it had been a short drive from the ship on which there were no end of toilets to use? It did not mean that at all. Were there enough toilets for all the people in cars and buses that had arrived to visit the ancient town on this fine day? There were not. Was there a large queue and a lot of muttering about the fact that the toilets weren’t free and needed Euros to use them? You bet there was. Did we all subsequently lose close to twenty minutes of our excursion time waiting for everyone to do what they had to do? Naturally. Am I finished asking these questions? I think I might be.

As I’ve mentioned, Trogir is located on a small island, itself sandwiched between the mainland of Croatia and another island, Čiovo, both accessible by bridges.

Trogir is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, gaining this accomplishment thanks to a town layout that has mostly remained unchanged since the Hellenistic Period – the three centuries between the death of Alexander the Great in 323 BCE and the emergence of the Roman Empire in roughly 30 BCE – despite being ruled over by numerous dynasties and families and countries in the intervening time. Since Trogir’s formation it has at some point gone through Greek colonisation, serving as one of the Roman city-state enclaves surviving the fall of Rome, having Croatian rulers, being part of the Byzantine Empire, having semi-autonomous rule under Hungary then Venice, suffering near-total destruction by the Saracens, having Venetian rule for several centuries, becoming part of the Habsburg Empire, becoming part of Napoleon’s territories, becoming part of Yugoslavia, being annexed by Italy, forming the independent country of Croatia under German oversight following partisan uprising, joining the second Yugoslavia (did you know there had been more than one?) after a second uprising, then back to just Croatia in the 1990s.

Much of the architecture in Trogir these days comes from after the Saracen attacks in 1123. Towers, churches, and a fortress are all contained on the small island with its beautiful medieval alleys between tall, white stone buildings. Architectural styles range from Romanesque to Baroque and Renaissance and Gothic, but it all seems to fit together coherently, and we would be visiting a place demonstrating that beautifully with a look around the Cathedral of St Lawrence, the construction of which took long enough to incorporate all the styles of the various periods.

The cathedral stood on the north side of the town square filled with people dining and drinking in the morning sunshine. To the south we could see a clock tower on the Chapel of St Sebastian next to a raised loggia that we would be visiting soon after.

The Cathedral of St Lawrence is by far the largest building in Trogir and was built by Radovan, a master sculptor and architect who lived in the city in the thirteenth century. The door frame consists of intricate reveals around the jambs depicting various scenes: Adam and Eve supported by lions; events from the life of Jesus; hunting and monthly labour scenes of the medieval period. The skill displayed is exceptional.

The interior of the church shows some Gothic touches, particularly in the ceiling, but many of them were later additions to the mostly Romanesque style that covered the bulk of the main building’s construction.

We spent about fifteen minutes in the cathedral and then were given a little bit of free time to have a look around the town square before we were expected to meet at the loggia opposite the cathedral. There was no disputing that Trogir was a lovely town providing attractive backdrops to the tourists who’d flocked to it to find seats and soak in the atmosphere.

We got a better look at the cathedral’s bell tower from outside and a better indication from the window shapes of the different architectural styles added in layers over the years. It’s possible to climb up the bell tower – and we saw people on a balcony high up who’d clearly done just that – but I’m glad we weren’t offered the opportunity as we might have felt compelled to attempt it and that’s the sort of thing that my wife rarely forgives me for.

Our guide then gathered us together at the loggia opposite the cathedral where we were treated to some traditional Dalmatian singing by a group of men.

To conclude our time in this historic Croatian town we then had a little more free time to explore on our own so the next post in this cruise travelogue series will show off some more photos of Trogir as we wandered aimlessly for a short while.