Dubrovnik,
the pearl of the Adriatic, certainly is enchanting. Sitting on the narrow
cement terraces of Buza Bar, I could almost expect sirens to start gossiping on
the rocks below me or a giant squid (I’ve heard they hang out in the Med) to
crawl over one of the islands in search of a light evening snack. Instead, a
pirate ship of notable proportions appeared out of the setting sun and came
cruising past the astounded Buza customers. Not a soul was seen onboard and as
quickly as it appeared, the ship was gone, leaving us all laughing nervously
and wondering if it had been a puza-induced mirage. I didn’t know it then, but
that was one of the most genuine experiences I had in the old city. Dubrovnik
is picture perfect with its red roofs and white stone streets polished by years
of activity, and yet it feels like Disneyland. Cruise ships unload strident
tourists to eat gelato and sell their children to pay for a beer. Don’t get me
wrong, the Venetian influenced architecture, the intriguing narrow maze of streets,
and the glorious simplicity of the colour scheme (stone on stone) are certainly
worth a visit. Twenty four hours is more than enough. A minute longer and you
start to wonder where the real people are and why every building is empty
except for a foreign name on the doorbell. I can’t help but wonder has
Dubrovnik sold its soul?
