stevenpiziks | The Cruise: Croatia

In the morning, the ship was off the coast of Korsula (KOR-shula) in Croatia. Croatia is a country made up of over 100 islands, and it's gorgeous. The climate is mild, the sea is clear. It's a lovely, lovely place.

Korsula can't handle a big cruise ship, so it anchored off-shore and everyone took shuttle boats to shore. Darwin and I had signed up for a short excursion—a 90-minute walking tour of Korsula.

When we boarded the rocking shuttle boat and took up seats, I heard a familiar voice yammering at everyone within earshot. Maggie. Oh, lord. She didn't notice or recognize us, but that was probably because she was yapping non-stop at her bench-mates, just like before. As the boat pulled away from the ship and bounced toward shore, Maggie started talking about spirituality. "I don't believe in that reincarnation stuff," she blithered to an Indian family. "It's all right for some people, but not for me. I need something more believable."

"Don't," Darwin murmured to me.

I didn't say anything, but I did listen. Maggie blabbered on, but she didn't actually proselytize or whip out one of her little cards. Ah ha! Someone from the cruise had spoken sharply to her. Good.

To our relief, Maggie wasn't in our little group, and we left her behind to fall in with Luka, our shockingly handsome young guide. He looked like a magazine model—tall, dark-haired, chiseled face, and big brown eyes. He led us through Korsula.

Korsula is a tiny town officially dating back to the fourteenth century, though it's really been around a lot longer. Over the centuries it's been handed around to different occupiers. Luka said that people born in the early 20th century became citizens of five different countries. These days, however, Croatia has its independence. Korsula's architecture is blocky, with little carvings everywhere. Narrow alleys with apartments and shop entrances, just like in Venice. Large market square with big, blocky church named St. Mark's, just like in Venice. It used to be a cathedral, but got downgraded when the seat of power for the bishophric changed.

The inside was elaborately done. This was Catholic, not Eastern Orthodox. Statues and carvings and shrines and a big pipe organ and water fonts. I did some counting and leaned over to Darwin.

"Seven altars, no waiting," I said.

We also saw a little museum about Korsula. The recreation of a kitchen was most interesting to me. The kitchens in Croatia were always on the top floor in case of fire—easier to escape if the flames are above you. The kitchen displays had utensils from the Middle Ages to the 1940s. Interestingly, there was a stone basin in the corner with a drain in it. This, it turned out, was the toilet. You did your business in a pot—Croatians didn't treat bathroom functions as private—and dumped it down the kitchen drain.

When we left the museum, Luka lectured about the public square some more, and I spotted an ATM. We were almost out of Euros, so I made quick use of it, but it took longer than I expected, and when I was done, the tour group had vanished.

Oops.

I tried raising Darwin on my phone, but there was no connection. I hunted for the group, but no luck.

I wasn't worried. Korsula is tiny, and I knew where the ship was. It was more annoying than frightening. I wandered about on my own, then ambled down to the docking area and waited there. About half an hour later, Darwin and Luka strode into view. Darwin was a little worried, but not hugely upset. We compared notes. He had called and texted me. I had called and texted him. Nothing had gone through, though.

Reunited, we bid good-bye to Handsome Luka and went to lunch at a seaside restaurant housed in a 400-year-old building. Darwin had aged steak and I had seafood pasta, and we both had fresh focaccia garlic bread and the ocean gleamed and the sun poured down and the umbrellas gave us shade. It was wonderful.

We boarded the shuttle boat—no sign of Maggie—and bounced our way back to the ship. Thank heavens Darwin and I are completely unaffected by motion sickness! We spent the rest of the afternoon doing Nothing Much, which was also wonderful.