Dubrovnik

The ferry passage included breakfast and I made sure to be one of the first to finish because I wanted to be on deck entering the harbour. I had a feeling that the combination of dawn light, sea and the mountains of Croatia would be picturesque and I was not wrong.

Dubrovnik (Italian: Ragusa), the Pearl of the Adriatic, is in Dalmatia, near the pointy southern end of Croatia. Here the mountains come close to the sea, providing a dramatic backdrop to the coast.

There are many islands off the coast, and these are just as photogenic. I really like boat trips, and I prefer them, and train trips, over sterile plane trips.

This bridge is named after Franjo Tuđman, the first president of Croatia after the breakup of Yugoslavia.

The water was so calm and its surface mirror-like. Wouldn't you like to live in one of those houses?

Passport control was perfunctory. As Croatia is not part of the Eurozone, I had to get some kuna (meaning marten pelt) from an ATM.

Before Google maps, one could pore over paper maps for hours, trying to imagine the terrain, but nothing ever quite prepares you for the reality. The hostel was near the top of a steep hill and I had to pause for breath several times. Spectacular views though.

When I had checked in and plonked myself down at one of the refectory tables to rehydrate, who should I spot there but Jeanette, the Australian woman from the Bologna hostel who had been robbed of her bag. So she had decided to press on, after all.

I got into a conversation with Manuel, a Mexican backpacker, whose English was very good. He, an English backpacker, and a couple of Dutch girls were going to the beach and he invited me along. Sure, why not? I have absolutely no plans for this day, intending only to recover from sleep loss from waking at 0530. I had also lost an hour crossing the Adriatic eastwards. The hostel is west of the walled city while the beach is east, so we had to pass through the city. It was thick with tourists. I made a mental note to start my sightseeing early tomorrow and beat the crowds and the heat.

This dog took a liking to our party and hung around us. The beach is pebbly and painful to walk on without footwear. Relatively few of Croatia's beaches are sandy. I had a go in the water but jumped out quickly because it was something like 15C. The curvy Dutch girls were better protected against the cold.

Around lunchtime, I headed back for a siesta. On the way I enquired at a travel agency about ferries north.

In the evening, I came down to find Jeanette regaling Manuel with immigration stories (she had worked for a government department). Manuel and a group of others were going for dinner in the old city so I was invited again. Dinner was at alfresco tables.

After that we decamped to a loud Irish bar where I chatted with Erica, a backpacker from Quebec. Around midnight I left the party. It was a pleasant walk in the cool night. Along the way I passed this lovely hotel.

Even though it's past midnight, there are still people at the open-air tables at the cafes below the hostel, enjoying the cool air. What a life. I've had one too many beers so I missed the passageway to the hostel. Whoopsie. Some people at the tables pointed me to the correct entrance.