Hvar, and our return to Dubrovnik

An update:

We spent one last night in Split, and then woke early the next morning to catch a two-hour ferry ride to the island of Hvar.

I had been emailing a man all day in a desperate attempt to arrange a wine tour in Hvar. Within a half day's time, this man, Alan, set up a private tour for Lisa and I on the island. At the ferry station, Alan told me to find a woman holding a sign with my name on it, pay her and gather more instructions then (sound like "Mission Impossible"?) True to Alan's word, the woman was there, waiting for us in a chic outfit and Fendi sunglasses. She asked if I was of Croatian origin and confirmed that a Mercedes van would be waiting for us at the bus stop near the ferry. Lisa and I boarded the ferry that morning, hoping that we hadn't been taken.

After a quick lunch near the ferry station in Stari Grad ("Old Town") in Hvar, we went to the bus stop as instructed. 12:00 noon came and went, our scheduled time to meet the van for our wine tour. I tried to dial Alan's cell phone from a nearby pay phone but I couldn't figure out the instructions in Croatian, nor did I know Hvar's calling code. When 12:30 came, I was about to tell Lisa we should get a cab when a Mercedes van came blasting into the parking lot, nearly peformed a donut in the parking lot and an older lady waved frantically at me through the window. Lisa and I shrugged our shoulders at each other and smiled.

A woman who looked like she could be Susan Sarandon's mother jumped out of the van and exclaimed in thick accent, "Thank God we found you! Are you Joanna?" and picked up our luggage and threw it into the back of the van. They had gone to the bus station in old town Stari Grad, and were glad that we had stayed put, given that there are just two bus stops in the entire town. Our guide's name was Jo and our driver's name Ava. After we settled into the van, Jo turned to us and asked, "Would you like some ice cream?"

It's always ice cream with these people! (And yes, we did have ice cream, as we do each and every day here -- tiramasu, banana, hazelnut, lemon flavored, you name it!)

Jo gave us a short walking tour of Stari Grad, which is clean and pure and charming like Dubrovnik, only much more serene and smaller. We then went to a local vineyard where a man named Francisco, or "Franc" gave us a private tour and tasting. But our real treat waited for us at the next vineyard, where Jo, Lisa and I had a lovely meal of cheeses, fish carpaccio, olives and bread in the home of the wine maker himself! Our guide there, Marija, served us full glasses of five different wines and then some, something one cannot experience in Santa Barbara. (Jo kept insisting that we were going to either sleep the entire way to our apartment or sing!) Mr. Thomas, the owner, stopped by to say hello as well. He was an old man and his hair was a bit wild and wind swept. His wine, the Plavac Mali, is apparently one of the top 300 wines in the world, or so we're told.

Jo was pleased to find out that we were Croatian, and she explained to each winemaker that we were, in fact, Croatian only, "their grandmothers did not teach them the language!" She was so pleased to find out that "we've returned to our country" and hopes that we bring our entire families here one day. A former journalist, Jo has lived in China and Australia and Zagreb and just returned to Hvar a few years ago. She lives in a small village and has nine cats.

Alan, the man in charge of our schedule, set up an apartment for us overlooking Hvar Town. Although I consider him a magic maker, he was not able to schedule kayaking for us the next day (booked). Instead, we woke the next morning and our landlord, a woman who spoke no English, led us down to a port where a boat waited for us and we took a one hour tour of the islands. It was too windy for us to sail further out or kayak, unfortunately.

Later that night, we returned to Dubrovnik. It was nearly 10:00 when we arrived but we knew our way. We let ourselves into Nicholas' home, pushing open the doors and bypassing the sleeping dog. Our luggage was much heavier after having purchased a few bottles of wine and we must have clinked and clanked our way up the stairs in the pitch dark. We found our studio apartment on the top floor and said, "Home!" and collapsed on the bed.

Thursday we woke at 6 a.m. to head to Bosnia for the day. We visited Medagorje and Mostar. We were able to catch nearly a full mass at Medagorje (our bus was just a bit late) and we climbed Apparation Hill, although we insist it must be a mountain! We climbed in our flip flops and baked under the hot sun. The terrain was extremely rocky and we heard a few rattles here and there, suspecting snakes, but not sure. By the time we trekked back down the "Hill" to the bus, our shirts were completely soaked in sweat. Ugh.

Next, Mostar. We walked the bridge in Mostar that was built in year 1,000-and something. The bridge was originally put together with just flour and eggs since cement did not exist at that time, but the bridge was destroyed entirely in the 1993 war and reconstructed in 2004. It is a symbolism of peace and pride. Our guide was a girl about our age who appeared a bit bitter about the war, but insisted that Serbs and Croats and Bosnians do get along now ("They all study here! They live here! They fall in love!") We then enjoyed a fantastic traditional meal at a cafe before catching our bus back to Dubrovnik.

Today, back in Dubrovnik, we have toured the Palace here and also the Cathedral of Dubrovnik. Each time I walk into a Cathedral, see beautiful flowers or a building with the world's history in its awnings and arches, I think of Grampy. In the Cathedral of Dubrovnik, I sat in a pew while Lisa wandered, and I thought of my grandfather, thought about what a good man he was and the life he led...Lisa must have the ability to read my mind, because a few moments later she appeared with a candle in hand.

"Jo, come, let's light a candle," she said. "For Grampy."

She lit the candle and placed it with the 75-plus other candles burning and melting and glowing and enduring under that ancient Cathedral ceiling. And we waited a moment, just a moment, and I thought of him, and couldn't help but cry a little.

We emerged from the Cathedral and I said to her, "So how about some ice cream?"

"I swear," she said, "You read my mind sometimes. I was just thinking that."

And so it goes, our last full day in Dubrovnik.