Monday, September 15, 2008

Travelogue, Day Five: Rain, Poetry, and Introspective Musing in Croatia

Three cheers for getting drenched yet again. I really need to just start wearing my gym shoes when I head to port, because waiting two days for my only pair of brown or black shoes to dry is starting to get old.

So today was Dubrovnik, which is a nifty little port city in Croatia. I got up early and had an excellent, hearty, and nutritious breakfast of various fruits, banana-nut oatmeal, sausages, and a totally laden omelet – it should be mentioned that I’m milking this whole “free food” thing for all its worth, ‘cause God knows I don’t eat anything like this back at home. It’s probably another reason I’m looking forward to moving in with Kevin, because I think I’d like to be able to make myself breakfast (or any other meal, for that matter) in a form other than stale cereal or overcooked oatmeal.

At any rate, after breakfast, I noted the decidedly murky-looking sky outside and grabbed my umbrella (which is practically a pavilion in and of itself) on my way out. Myrna and Edna caught up with me as I was toward the free shuttle into town, so I chatted with them a bit as we drove. They’re really quite sweet, if rather demanding.

The newer areas of Dubrovnik actually remind me a little bit of various neighborhoods in Beijing and a few areas in Hong Kong. The streets are a little uneven and the traffic not well regulated, but that much is true in many areas of the world. I think it actually has something to do with the way the buildings are built, the style in which they’re constructed – I wonder if the city has had much British influence while it grew up.

The bus dropped us off just outside the Old City, which are surrounded by a set of extremely impressive-looking city walls. I would really rather not be the vanguard in any attack against those walls, particularly not with arrows and assorted other unpleasantries raining down on my head, because assaulting a twenty-foot tall, ten foot thick edifice of solid granite with swords and polearms seems like it’d be about as effective as chipping at a brick with a toothpick. Yes, I’m aware that siege engines were typically used in the medieval days, but Old Dubrovnik sits on a massive series of hills. Just getting a siege engine to sit upright would be a rather Sisyphean task.

Of course, with the walls being one of the principle attractions of the city, there were stairs going up almost as soon as I entered. I separated from Myrna and Edna there, deciding that the view from the top would be worth the tremendous climb and €6 admission fee. Turns out I wasn’t wrong. The view was VERY spectacular, although the climb was VERY tremendous. Quite different from how they would be in the US, the walls of Dubrovnik had virtually no guard rails, hand rails, or any real measure of idiot-protection. I could have easily climbed out over the walls and splattered myself against the rocks fifty feet below. I think I prefer it that way – I’m sure it helps keep the stupidity level of the Croatian gene pool rather low.

In a curious twist of coincidence, I met a trio of students from New York up in one of the turrets, and we exchanged pictures up top. It was edging from drizzle to out-and-out rain at this point, but it still wasn’t heavy enough for me to consider it an issue. After all, I had my Umbrella of Power! After a bit of consideration, I decided to continue along the walls and get some pictures of the coast, because the eastern end of the city stood along some cliffs and had a sweeping view of the ocean. In any case, I could always get some stairs back down when I felt ready, right?

Yeah, uh huh. What did we learn in grade school about assumptions? Right.

I did make it to the eastern wall of the city while the rain was still light and got some very foggy but atmospheric pictures of the coast. I was feeling decidedly poetic as I walked along the medieval stone walls, watching the iron gray ocean rippling its way into a haze of muffled white, merging with the sky in the misty distance. Owing possibly to the poetry of Dorothy Parker, I started composing a series of verses in my head, trying to figure out a way to tie in life, love, and the rhythmic waves of a restless sea in an aesthetically pleasing meter. Just as I was really waxing eloquent, however, the sky basically sharted on my head. The heavens split open and started dumping raindrops the size of quail eggs onto Dubrovnik. At the same time, a massive wind picked up off the sea, nearly sending me spinning around with my umbrella. It caught the rain that would have fallen outside the city and whipped them over the walls, so that not only were we pelted from above, but from below as well. Lightning sizzled in blazing arcs across the sky, and naturally I was standing on the highest spot in Dubrovnik with an umbrella the size of a radio tower and virtually no cover. What could I do? I sighed and kept walking, hoping to find some stairs back down into the city before my shoes got soaked again.

Fail. Epic fail. It turns out the city walls only have two places where you can get on or off. I had to walk halfway around the city walls, with rivers pouring down my back and around my feet. It was fortunate that I was wearing my brown shoes, because my black ones were still in recovery from Venice. It probably would have been more fortunate still if I was wearing my sandals, but with the rain and the wind I probably would have frozen my toes off.

So about forty five minutes after the rain started, I finally found some stairs back down into Dubrovnik proper. I found myself outside the Cathedral, and was able to sneak a few pictures of its luscious interior (with its multitudes of people. It’s astounding how bad weather seems to redouble the piety of the masses.) Continued wandering led me to some central avenues and thoroughfares, where I was able to find my way back to the gate. The rain had stopped by now, the sun carefully peeking out behind tattered clouds, and I was feeling brave enough to keep exploring the city. Avoiding the major roads this time, I decided to check out the narrower alleyways toward the northern end of the city, which were characterized by high walls and steep stairs up the hillside. About halfway up a particularly long, particularly steep set of stairs, I realized something - people live in Old Dubrovnik.

This had been obvious from the beginning, but somehow it hadn’t really registered as I was exploring the more touristy portions of Dubrovnik. People actually live there! There were little doors and balconies and windows leading into living rooms where people were having lunch in their underwear. There were lines stretched across alleyways, extending between two nearby buildings, with pink T-shirts and frilly underwear air-drying in the newly revealed sun. As I wandered up and down these narrow paths, I became acutely aware that I was passing right by people’s doorsteps, and it bothered me a little. I’m actually not sure why, because plenty of strangers walk by the front door to my building all the time. I think it had to do with the intimate, almost rustic nature of those Dubrovnik streets. I felt like I was violating the privacy of everyone who lived there with my tourist trappings, gawking at their way of life as though it were something alien and marvelous and novel. What’s so interesting about a guy watching television and eating fish, even if he’s doing it on the Croatian coastline rather than a New York apartment? Would he feel the same way about me if he were wandering by my Washington Heights apartment?

I did consider here what it would be like to live in Dubrovnik. What it would be like if I, say, decided to stay a summer there in a sort of exchange program. I tried to imagine myself stepping out of one of those worn oaken doors onto the cobblestone streets, looking out over those orange slate rooftops and thinking of them not as an attraction, but as home. It was a strange and anxious thought, but exciting at the same time. I was never much for exploring new places and learning new customs – I like having firm roots rather too much for such a thing, I think – but it would make for a good story. Ultimately, though, I can’t imagine it would be that different. Dubrovnik isn’t a third world country after all. Whatever I might do during the day, however I might work, I can’t imagine that the habits and trappings I carry with me would change so much. I’d still write, draw, read, and hang out with friends at the local bar. Admittedly, I probably wouldn’t be kissing too many guys while I was there, but you never know. Maybe Dubrovnik has a thriving gay community that I know nothing about.

Anyway, the sun was blazing full force by this point and I was starting to develop a headache, not to mention the fact that I hadn’t eaten lunch yet. I decided to just take the shuttle back to the Crystal Serenity, where I had a late afternoon snack and some ice cream with Ron and Norm. The evening show featured Donna and Lee Roy, which was fantastic and fun (particularly where Lee Roy did an impression of Ethel Merman), and I only had to spend a little time after dinner working, and that was mostly exchanging e-mails with Sherry.

Tomorrow is another at-sea day, which means some time spent catching up on work and figuring out the logistics of Rome. I’m not blogging as much about the work being done on the ship because a) it’s boring and b) it’s boring, so it should be a short blog day as well. I now return to my marshmallowy pillows with a pair of horror movies nabbed from the ship library.

Oh! Did I mention the ship library? It’s pretty neat – there’s a series of new book releases, international selections, some old favorites, and a very substantial DVD library. Not only do they have an excellent selection of horror movies, they’ve got (whispers) pooooorn! And not just regular porn either – they’ve got seriously gay porn. Unfortunately, the librarian kind of knows me by sight already, so I’m trying to decide if I can work up the nerve to check out something like, “Slick Fast and Furious” or “Sporty Gays.” Maybe I’ll wait until a day or so before the cruise ends, because I’m not sure I could stand her piercing gaze every time I went to check out another horror movie. Well, I mean…she must get guys who take out porn, right? This is a cruise ship! Half the entertainment cast has to be gay!

I’ve gotten fairly outgoing in the past year or so, but I’m not sure I’m daring enough to request “Wild Anal” just yet.

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