The last time I was in Split must have been around 1998 somewhere past midsummer. Something about checking the port, the support and the location where we were off-loading and reassembling MEDVAC helicopters for the rotation following mine. This means, of course, coming into the port via chopper and departing the same way. I never went past the port islands in the area and certainly never wound my way through the maze of small streets which make up the old city. Not that I think we, in full battle rattle and armed, would have been all that welcomed. Certainly we had been viewed a bit askance when landing in Dubrovnik earlier in the summer for patient evacuations.
This time, we pulled up to the dock quite a bit later than expected. The winds had once again been fierce last night as the last of the storm blowing down from the arctic had made its presence known. Rather than cancel, the Captain made the choice of anchoring and waiting to see if the winds would slow down which they did about 1300 in the afternoon.
We walked off the ship along with everyone else close to 1500 in the afternoon. Hiking up and round before entering the old city, my main purpose was to add a few more steps to my pedometer than I had achieved yesterday.
Split is old and has, like other cities along this coast, been host to a number of nations, tribes, hordes, peoples, and religions over the years. There are the remains of old fortresses, Palaces in the Venetian style and churches of both RC and Eastern Orthodox Flavor. Cramped alleys are lined with houses of stone which almost touch on the upper floors. There are the occasional connecting arch, the remnants of old windows now bricked in. Several squares feature the traces of old temples predating the Christian era.
We walked back and forth, treading almost every small cobbled and stone paved street worn down by centuries of pedestrians before us. We found postcards for our NYC daughter who owes me an updated picture of her wall display and an interesting cookbook for me. And no, it doesn’t mean that I am contemplating cooking, but recipes for almond soup and black risotto just seemed to need a home on my new kitchen shelf. The delayed arrival meant a 1900 departure from Split.
The evening passed with organizing, packing and a stop at our assigned table in the main dining room (the only time this cruise). Tomorrow is turn around day. I stay, George heads home and I don’t even have to change cabins this trip!
I’ll post the photos when I get them uploaded.