The first port we visited upon leaving Venice was Dubrovnik, Croatia. Located on the eastern shore of the Adriatic Sea, Dubrovnik enjoys a wonderful Mediterranean climate. As we approached the pier, we could see stately palm trees and exuberant bougainvillea sharing the hillsides with eucalyptus, pine and olive trees. At 9 a.m. the air was already warm, so we dressed in lightweight clothing, anticipating the coming heat within the ancient walls of the old town. Our shuttle buses delivered us to the main gate on the north side of the city. Above us stretched the immense medieval stone walls which enclose the town. Knowing the temperatures would only get more uncomfortable as the day went on, we chose to do the wall walk as soon as we passed through the gate. Steep stairs of rock worn smooth (and slippery) by the thousands of feet which have passed over them led to the wide surface at the top, some four to six or more stories above the streets below. From up there the views over the terra-cotta tile roofs (studded, somewhat jarringly to our eyes, with satellite dishes near and far) and shimmering blue of the sea led to a flurry of picture taking and long pauses to drink in the scene. For the first time on this journey we were able to gaze down at the Mediterranean’s rich range of colors, and I was struck by the fact that the same incredible midnight blue we had observed two nights before in the sky behind the domes of St. Mark’s in Venice reappeared in the sea below my feet. We made our way slowly around the one-mile circumference, ducking into a shadowed niche when the sun and our exertions could not be overcome by the gentle breeze which accompanied us. At one point as I hung over the parapet, peeking into someone’s garden far below, the most heavenly scent I can only describe as spiced honey wafted through the air. I don’t know whether it came from one plant or was a mixture of all the wild and cultivated blooming flowers there (honeysuckle, jasmine, oleander, herbs), but it was one of the most memorable gifts of that day. Visits to the Franciscan monastery and chats with local residents provided evidence that the scars of the 1991 war may still be seen and will not soon be forgotten. Later, after a little requisite shopping, we found our way to a small bar perched on the rocks and wedged between the sea and the city wall. We ended our day with cold and tasty Croatian beers, shaded by umbrellas and cooled by the wind off the water (well, and sister Julie actually joined the college-aged crowd for a fully clothed dip IN the water!). We could not have asked for a better start to our journey. -Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader