Crews Letter #2004 18
THE
Fred picked us up at the airport in
miles
to Trogir, a tiny medieval walled city on an island just over a short bridge
from the Istrian mainland. We walked up
the narrow street to the marina gate, onto the dock and the beautiful Elan 45'
Perception where Phyllis was waiting. It
was warm, mostly cloudy, 80E.
After opening remarks and map review to make a preliminary plan of our eight-day sail, Fred led us back along the marina and across the short, arched bridge to the city. We changed dollars for kuna (exchange rate 1 - 6.1) at the bank behind the cathedral.
Around to the front, on the tiny main square, the cathedral, built in 1571 of the unmortared honey-beige rectangular limestone blocks (as in the whole town, and the White House) quarried in Brač, one of the larger Dalmatian islands and the nearest to Split. The cathedral entrance was an intricately carved arch of limestone lace and spirals. Inside was a high corbel-arched stone ceiling hung with a large painted, gold-leaf cross above intricately carved wooden choir stalls.
We
explored the narrow, twisty, cobblestoned alleys that pass in medieval walled
towns for streets to the fort at the far end of town. Before climbing to the battlements, I used
the “Ladies” in the corner of the fort enclosure - a hole in the floor coyly
surrounded with a rectangle of porcelain at the front corners of which were the
shapes of two footsoles, with overhead a pull-string to flush. The tower of the fort, also built in the
early 1500's, was ascended by steep, narrow foot-polished stone steps to a
beautiful view of the town and harbor.
We bought provisions at the open-air market - tomatoes, green beans, purple plums and dried figs. Back at Perception, Phyllis, Conrad and I watched a misty drizzle roll in from the mountains to the west while Fred took our passports to the customs officer. As we crossed back on the bustling bridge to dinner, the lifting mist was lit to a golden gauze and the water was a shimmering gold-foil highway to the setting sun.
Dinner was at the Italian restaurant of a friendly Croatian family already on joshing terms with Fred in a tiny plaza within Trogir’s cobblestone maze under a big canvas umbrella - spaghetti and pizza with banana liqueur to finish. We walked back under stars peeking from clearing skies. Showered in public showers in cool/tepid water … and to bed for the first time in two days.