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.