Dinner in Dubrovnik
We’re back from a Novi Most team retreat in Slano, Croatia. Last night we went out for dinner in Dubrovnik. I visited Dubrovnik back in 1986, just a few days before my twelfth birthday. We flew in. I remember the decent over the mountains. The 737 got lower and lower as the bare, rocky slopes got closer and closer. I think I saw someone herding goats – I certainly remember seeing TITO spelled out large and clear in stones. I was sitting in a window seat on the left of the plane and there was still no sign of civilisation when we touched down. We climbed down the stairs onto the tarmac and headed for the solitary barn-like building that was airport terminal. It was a memorable introduction to Yugoslavia.
Down in the city last night I tried to see if I could remember anything. I know I’d been to the port before. Although it looked like the pictures it didn’t seem that familiar. On the main street I tried to work out which building was once a sparse shop where I bought a post card or two. Gone is the communist austerity. The street sports shops that would grace a swanky district in any cosmopolitan city. In an expensive bookstore I afforded myself the opportunity of buying an English-language magazine. Well almost, it was October’s American edition of Wired! (This isn’t the place to digress into a discussion about why it’s wrong for an American website to list English (UK) as a language option.) We ate and then headed back up the coast. But we’ll go back, although I’ll brush up on my history first to be fully prepared for Rowan’s barrage of questions!
Down in the city last night I tried to see if I could remember anything. I know I’d been to the port before. Although it looked like the pictures it didn’t seem that familiar. On the main street I tried to work out which building was once a sparse shop where I bought a post card or two. Gone is the communist austerity. The street sports shops that would grace a swanky district in any cosmopolitan city. In an expensive bookstore I afforded myself the opportunity of buying an English-language magazine. Well almost, it was October’s American edition of Wired! (This isn’t the place to digress into a discussion about why it’s wrong for an American website to list English (UK) as a language option.) We ate and then headed back up the coast. But we’ll go back, although I’ll brush up on my history first to be fully prepared for Rowan’s barrage of questions!
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