With P&O, if the cruise sails outside the UK then the flight is included as part of the package. This cruise would be in the Mediterranean and Adriatic seas for the week we were aboard so we waited for flight details confirmation. And waited. Waited a little bit more. Then got tired of waiting and emailed P&O to see if they were ever going to tell us any details about how we were supposed to get to Malta.

Thus it was that with a little over seven weeks until the cruise we finally learned that we’d be flying out of Gatwick (which we knew) and that we’d be on the six o’clock in the morning flight. Which was bad. And good.

The bad part about an early flight like that is that, for us, and for some peace of mind, we had to not only factor in a hotel stay for the night before, but arrange it at fairly short notice for an airport. If we’d had an afternoon flight then we’d have likely driven up early in the morning, still with plenty of time for check-in and allowance for all those what-ifs (car breaks down, traffic jam, zombie apocalypse). The early morning flight, though, meant a hotel stay with likely moving the car to the parking area the morning of the flight and shuttle bus to the airport, with an overlapping set of different what-ifs (none of our alarms going off, car breaks down (but now close enough to just abandon it and walk), zombie apocalypse).

The good part about an early flight for a short hop just to the Mediterranean from London is that the opportunity to explore at the destination ahead of departure becomes a possibility. And it would.

We actually ended up booking at the Hampton by Hilton hotel attached to Gatwick airport so that meant parking the night before instead of in the early hours. That removed one aspect of worry but still left the horrible situation of trying to park at Gatwick. Something about Gatwick airport’s parking you might not know is that it’s close to the airport – which is good – but so that it doesn’t distract pilots the lighting is very, very low. And if the sun’s not up that makes for stress all of its own. It took us so long to find the bus stop after we’d actually found a parking spot.

Top airport parking tip: take photos of wherever you end up parking because it might all look different when you return.

So, we made it to the hotel. Eventually. Finding the entrance to the hotel from the airport shuttle bus drop-off point was a mini-saga in itself.

We’d bathed and eaten before we’d headed towards London because we knew we’d need a pretty early night given when we’d need to set the alarm for in the morning, and we didn’t want to use the shower at the hotel because that would mean taking dirty clothes with us on holiday. What kind of headcase does that?

The hotel room was large, spacious, clean, perfectly adequate. It was also under two minutes’ walk from the check-in desks in the airport. In that respect: ideal. There will be people out there who want to see photos of the hotel bedroom and bathroom for some reason, and it’s not like I didn’t take photos for just those people so here they are.

The hotel bar was clean and bright with some separated areas and options to eat if required. Perhaps the decor was a little too sterile for my tastes but it’s a hotel bar. That’s what hotel bars are like. We had a few drinks, nonetheless.

It goes without saying that we had a terrible night’s sleep because until we actually get through security at the airport we just can’t seem to relax at all. I’m sure we’re not alone in that.

However, once the luggage was checked in and we were through security we made straight for the pub to have breakfast and a pre-flight drink. These are traditions and we follow them. Even though the pub in the airport is a Wetherspoon. It’s the only time we set foot in this chain of establishments and we only do it because we consider airports international territory celebrating connections to the wider world and therefore not bound by the right wing, Little England, xenophobic mentality to which the pubs, their obnoxious owner, and their clientele are otherwise associated.

The food was satisfactory but the drinks were very nice indeed. You have to take a photo in an airport bar and post it on social media because social media is all about making other people jealous.

In the next post in this cruise travelogue series we’ll cover a couple of hours on the cruise ship in Valletta before we make the most of that early flight to Malta with a walk around the country’s capital ahead of our departure in the evening.

It was a little more confusing at the port where we had to loop around a street and into a room to check our documentation, then had a barcode printed out for us – because P&O still really haven’t embraced that whole phone thing yet and claimed they’d not be able to scan the image on our devices (sure, Jan) – and followed some more signs before we finally boarded the ship.

We were told that we were free to come and go as we pleased up until last boarding time, and we were told that the little slip of paper with the barcode would allow us to order drinks on board, but we were also told that the rooms weren’t ready yet so that left us in the position of either leaving our hand luggage somewhere on board – and we didn’t want to do that – or taking our hand luggage around the streets of Valletta – and we didn’t want to do that – or waiting on the ship until such time as we could drop our bags off in our room. So that’s what we decided to do.

We’d had a bit of a feel for Malta on the reasonably short bus ride from the airport to the cruise port. Narrow, twisting, busy roads with elevations up and down, often penned in either side by high, thick-walled buildings all in light-coloured sandstone blackened with age and pollution from the traffic. The walls got thicker and higher as we neared the Maltese capital and the fortifications of the port, and from Azura‘s top deck we had some fabulous views of these defences and some indication of events in Malta’s past.

We were familiar with Azura, having cruised on her twice before in 2017 to first Belgium and then the Netherlands, and she’s our favourite class of cruise ship – the Grand-class – which is used by older ships in the P&O and Princess fleets and was the first type of ship we ever cruised on, so exploration of the ship wasn’t necessary and we took the time instead to admire more of those views of Valletta with a circuit of the top deck. The fortifications along the harbour entrance looked particularly impressive in the Mediterranean sunshine.

Across the harbour in Valletta from us we could see a dry dock area. One of the docks had a curved roof apparatus that could be moved along to cover whatever was inside. In another the MSC Seaview was undergoing some maintenance. We’ve still not cruised with MSC and every time we get close to considering them we read something else from other cruise bloggers who’ve encountered some often appalling service aboard, bordering on abuse. They feel like a cruise line with some training and attitude issues to address and it just seems that booking an MSC cruise would come with an added gamble that your trip might be ruined in some way, which is a shame right now as many of their ships look lovely and they cruise some interesting itineraries.

One other thing you might spot in the photo of MSC Seaview in the dry dock is that one of the cranes is painted like a giraffe. There’s an argument that they all should be and that we should change the names of them from cranes accordingly.

We made our way past the main pool areas and headed towards the aft of the top deck where we planned to sit and wait with a drink until we heard that the rooms were ready for us.

We had a couple of drinks, first in the sunshine then in the shade when we realised that we were in danger of getting sunburnt before the ship had even left the port. Our sun cream was in our main luggage and that was somewhere on the ship but not with us.

The announcement was finally made that the rooms on Azura were ready for us so we made our way to cabin C235 which is a room number that we’ve had on a lot of these Grand-class ships. It’s become a bit of a running joke with us now that we always try to book it if we can (unless there’s a good reason to book elsewhere on the ship). Part of the reason is familiarity, but it’s also a great location with a couple of great features we both like: it’s close enough to the front to see and hear the waves splitting on the bow of the ship as it cruises; it’s got a double-sized balcony with half of it covered.

Our hold luggage still hadn’t made it to the room in the few hours we’d been aboard but that wasn’t a major issue. We dropped our hand luggage off, freshened up a little anyway, then disembarked Azura in order to have a walk along the harbour shoreline, have a look at the fortifications up close, and see if we could get a feel for whether we’d want to return to Malta at some point for more exploration.

In the next post in this series of cruise travelogues I’ll cover some of the sights as we take a walk along the shoreline of Valletta.

We didn’t have any real plans at all because we’d not been entirely sure whether we’d even be able to do this, but a quick look at the map and a familiarity with the weather already plus our love of being beside the sea suggested we could do a lot worse than simply walking along the shoreline of Valletta and admiring the contrasting views of water and sand-coloured stone fortifications under the piercing blue sky.

Valletta is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and it’s not hard to see why with its predominately sixteenth century buildings constructed on a grid pattern that nevertheless follows the contours of the hilly terrain, all within bastioned walls and high, thick fortifications. Our coastal walk took us around the lowest elevation of the capital city at first although we’d get to experience a little of those narrow, planned roads full of character a little later on.

Part of Valletta’s big appeal is that even when it’s suffered damage – as it did in the wars – or even when it’s approved new building work, all the construction or restoration has been done with a sympathetic eye towards the city’s history, using similar materials and similar architectural styles. If you see an arched window or arched doorway – and you’ll see loads of them – then they’ll almost inevitably be Romanesque. If you see a balcony then typically Mediterranean-flavoured Baroque elements will be prominent. Roofs are almost all flat.

Driving from the airport to the cruise port had given us a feel for how busy and congested this part of Malta could be but our walk along the shoreline felt far calmer and quieter with the majority of vehicles we saw simply parked up. There was a thin, historical veil smothering everything and it was impossible to know whether any particular building was in use or abandoned. As it was that post-noon period of the afternoon it’s entirely possible that everyone had embraced the Mediterranean siesta attitude instead, of course. Not us, though. Mad dogs and Englishmen, and all that.

Just before we reached the large customs house building through which a low tunnel had been made and through which cars could pass we passed the entrance way to the Barrakka Lift which provides a alternative to walking the longer, hilly route into the city centre. A lift had operated at this location from 1905 to 1973 and a replacement was built in 2012 to assist the increasing number of visitors from cruise ships in particular. As we weren’t walking into the middle of Valletta we didn’t use it, but it’s worth noting – at time of writing – that it cost one Euro in cash; no card payments.

When you walk along the Valletta waterfront you’ll see all the former warehouses with their coloured, arched doors. The colours were so that sailors arriving in the city would know which warehouses dealt with which types of cargo even if they couldn’t read. If they couldn’t read and were also colour blind then, well, that’s another matter entirely.

We walked as far as St Christopher Bastion, on the top of which we could see attractive stonework with those Romanesque arches, looking even older than the city itself. Just beyond those was the Lower Barrakka Gardens, a smaller counterpart to the Upper Barrakka Gardens we would have come out into had we taken the lift earlier in the shoreline walk.

The thing we’d decided we wanted to come and look at when we’d peered at the map earlier in the day was the Siege Bell War Memorial. We knew we wouldn’t really have enough time to do any museums any justice so this looked a point of interest a reasonable walking distance from the ship with the potential for some nice views out to the open sea past the harbour entrance.

The memorial was opened in 1992 to commemorate fifty years since Malta’s award of the George Cross for holding out against attacks by the Axis powers in World War II.

The memorial was popular with visitors when we turned up and, as expected, did provide a good place for just looking out to sea. In addition to the small belfry and colonnaded structure there was a catafalque with a statue to the Unknown Soldier. I waited patiently – and obviously – for a couple of minutes while a group of Russian tourists posed for selfies and Instagrammable shots around the statue before getting pissed off enough to walk right through the middle of their umpteenth pose for pictures and take some of my own pictures. Self-absorbed, selfish pricks like that annoy me so, so much.

We decided to duck into some of the streets of Valletta away from the shoreline next, primarily because we still hadn’t had a chance to apply any sun protection after arriving in Malta and we’d been out in the sun both on the ship and in the city for longer than either of us could really cope with. The narrow roads and tall buildings gave us lots of opportunity to hug the shade.

I offered my wife a couple of choices: we could make for the centre of Valletta, see what was around there, then try to work out a route back to the ship from there – she wasn’t keen on that idea – or we could hunt down a bar that was actually open somewhere nearby and see if it was possible to have a locally-made beer of some description. The photo below will tell you what we ended up doing.

Cisk lager was the best we could manage to find. We’re not lager drinkers by choice but when you’re really hot then it can be just what you need, and in that respect this was a good call. In another respect we probably might have been better off finding some other bar as we had a friendly-enough chat with a local in the bar right up until they started complaining about the prices of everything and blaming all the immigrants. Wonderful. Sunshine, beer, and a frothing xenophobe: I’m sure it’s a combination that will appeal to many people but we could’ve done without the latter part.

A little rehydrated, we more-or-less retraced our steps back along the waterfront area of Valletta after that because the hilly terrain just back from the shoreline gave us a little cause for concern that we might knacker ourselves out trying to reach the ship.

There was one final memorial sculpture to catch our eyes before we re-boarded Azura and that was in the form of a large folded paper boat in stone. This was the Child Migrants’ Memorial and it was sculpted in 2008 to commemorate the 310 Maltese children, mostly very young boys, who, with the consent of parents or guardians, were sent away from their families to Australia between 1950 and 1965 with the intention of giving them the opportunity for a better life. Some did, but many others worked for no pay, gained no education, and even suffered physical and sexual abuse on top of the sense of abandonment they’d experienced.

Always finish an article on a happy, positive note, Mark. That’s what I always tell myself.

In the next post in this cruise travelogue series I’ll cover the rest of the day aboard P&O Cruises Azura before the ship sets sail with a day at sea ahead of her and stops in Croatia and Italy to follow.

If you’ve read the previous post in this series then you’ll know that we’d had a walk along the shoreline of Valletta, appreciating the sixteenth century architecture of this largely designed city and its impressive defensive fortifications. We’d been able to do this because we’d been on an early flight to Malta that had allowed us to spend a little time in the morning on Azura before we could drop off luggage.

That early flight and time in the sun, plus the drinks before we’d had a short look around Valletta and the drink in Valletta itself, was all starting to take its toll on us so we decided to rest for a bit mostly in our room on the ship ahead of its departure from the port, where we’d be able to sort out our luggage that had now been delivered to the cabin and watch the world go by from our balcony.

These Grand-class ships used by P&O (UK and Australia) and Princess Cruises have great balcony cabins on deck 10 that are double the (already decent) depth of the decks above, and half-covered unlike the deck with larger cabins below. We always try to book for this deck on these ships just for that additional space. The point about cruising for us is that the travelling itself is relaxing and you’ve got access to the sea air and great views. More often these days cruise lines are reducing that personal outside space for their passengers to squeeze in more additional charge locations as the balance between providing an attractive service and giving profits to shareholders swings inevitably in favour of general enshittification.

One weird sight we saw from our balcony in Valletta harbour was a boat towing a circle. We didn’t know what it was at the time but this is apparently a tuna cage net. There are, it seems, tuna farming areas in this part of the world.

We knew we weren’t going to have a late first night on the ship so we headed for a pre-dinner drink then to the main dining room for dinner a lot earlier than we normally would when we cruise. You can also take a look at the drinks menu and dinner menu below.

We had time to take part in trivia on Azura so made our way to a packed Brodie’s and ended up finishing second. We stayed to listen to the busker for a while before calling it a night.

In the next post in this Azura cruise travelogue series we’ll have a day at sea heading north from Malta across the Mediterranean and up the Adriatic towards Croatia.

A look at the programme of activities for this sea day on Azura in April, 2023.

We had cruised on P&O Azura two times previously, but both shorter durations than this week. Not only that, but with Azura being a Grand-class ship we were familiar with the layout and general decor aboard already. As such we had no compelling urge to walk around the ship and take photos, but I still did anyway just to see what, if anything, had changed noticeably in the six years since we’d last cruised on her.

Leaving my wife to read after breakfast, I went for a wander and the photos from that walk around Azura are below. For more pictures of this cruise ship you can take a look at those taken on our first cruise on Azura.

I started off with a look at Sindhu, the Asian speciality restaurant on board P&O Cruises ships. These venues always look great but it’s not a cuisine that particularly suits us.

I treated myself to a promenade walk on Azura since I was on my feet anyway. Even though the ship is always nicely air-conditioned it’s lovely to get out into the fresh air, feel the wind, and listen to the waves rumbling past as the ship cuts through.

I met up with my wife in the Planet Bar where I enjoyed a first drink of the day in her company and with views of the ship’s wake from this location. We also spotted something that’s become popular for some unfathomable reason over the past few years: a small, yellow, rubber duck. People generally find them, take a photo to share on social media, and move the duck so someone else can discover one. Sometimes people take them home. Families with small children, or duck fetishists, I guess. Sometimes the duck comes with contact information attached. You’ll need to make your own judgement as to whether you want to share contact details with someone who takes rubber ducks on holiday with them.

That marked the end of my gentle exercise around Azura. The afternoon saw us back in our room for a period to enjoy the balcony space and sea views from there, then some lunch and a few more drinks.

Formal nights tend to occur on sea days on cruise ships and that was the case for this first full day cruising up the Adriatic. We decided that we’d try to eat in the Glass House rather than the main dining room on the basis that a lot of people seem to think the menu in the main dining room is a little more special on formal nights so it’s worth eating there. It rarely is, though. It did take us a long time to get a seat in the Glass House but the food was fine and our waiter for the evening was very entertaining.

We took part in an individual trivia game in the evening which my wife tied for first in but then lost on a tie-breaker. That happens more often than it doesn’t. For the remainder of this sea day on Azura we hopped around between lounges, enjoying some tunes from Charlotte Chalkey then a little late night disco.

In the next post in this cruise travelogue series we’ll make our first visit to the country of Croatia as we head off on a cruise excursion to look at the town of Trogir and visit its cathedral.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.