| | q Dubrovnik — a sea of red-tiled roofs, as seen from Minceta Fort on the wall. Stairway to heaven by Teresa Unger | First day, Dubrovnik Each morning we too awoke, at 6 a.m. to the _ ever-present peal of the Church bells marking the hours of the day as they have done for many cen- turies. Dubrovnik is set on a rocky sun-drenched shore in the Mediterra- nean. Palm trees and grape vines shade private places and restaurants, in sharp contrast to the brilliance of the sun and sea. Narrow streets and an eternity of stairs separate the sturdy white stone buildings with rosy red- tiled roofs, This is a pedestrian ci- ty, only the ocassional small city-repair vehicle is allowed in. Even the street cleaning is done by hand — each day the man came, with his broom and bucket on a cart. The city is kept spotlessly clean, an ex- pression of affection and pride the inhabitants have for their home. Our days in Dubrov- nik were spent exploring, shopping and lounging on the rocks sunbathing. On our first day we found a nice outdoor restaurant on the Prijen- do, a side street of cafes. We ate most of our lun- ches there and met some very interesting people, who sat with us on the days when it was crowd- ed, Every time we went to our chosen spot, we passed a pizza restaurant and each day the man would try to entice us to taste his fare — each time we thanked him and passed on. By the end of our visit, he greeted us with a large smile, as if we were valued cus- tomers, even though we had never eaten at his: establishment. The old city Stari Grad, the old ci- ty, is a museum in itself, with churches and other fine buildings. As you enter the main Pile Gate there is the large Onophrion Foun- tain, across the Placa is the Franciscan Monas- tery. In the cloister, along with the old books, music sheets and paintings, is a display of the original pharmacy — one of the oldest in Europe, 1317. At the far end of the Placa is the Dominican Monastery, its church is filled with lavish paint- ings, tryptiches and the most beautiful cross. Turning toward the sea, is the City Bell tower whose famous ‘green men”, bronze figures, chime the hours. Across and to the right in the square, is St. Blais Church, the church that honors St. Blais, Du- brovnik’s patron saint. Further up the street and to the left is the Rector’s Palace. Within its walls are richly decorated period ‘rooms and a large collec- tion of inlaid chests and gilt on leather wall hang- ings. The rector stayed alone in the palace for his one-month mandate, away from his family and other distractions. Last week Terrace resident Teresa Unger described the adventures she and her husband Len Winter ex- perienced on their arrival in that famous jewel on the adriatic, Dubrovnik, in Yugoslavia. Here Teresa talks about their first day in the ‘‘walled city’’. Up the stairs and on intricately painted Rus- the right was the cathe- sian icons. dral, but it was closed One of the more lively for repairs on some eat- ‘exhibits was an excellent thquake damage. display at th j The treasury had been jp, Poe John’s. Tower relocated, so we saw the There was so much to magnificient gold and see, each street offered silver, but most in- more. teresting were the relics of St. Blais; a hand, leg, foot and the skull. They were encased in ornate gold and jewels, with mesh sections so that the actual relic could be seen. On a side street, to the back and up a flight or two of stairs, was the Icon Museum. Here was a glorious display of gilded Madonna and Child icons, St. George and the Dragon, another popular motif, and many Seaward side Our favorite swim- ming spot was on the seaward side of St. John’s Tower. Everyone wore a bikini, even the over 80s, regardless of their size. It is the only acceptable mode of beach dress. Well, there also is nude and semi-nude bathing, although this is generally restricted to specific beaches, ours A favorite luncheon spot at the Upi Cjenko in Dubrovnik. Terrace Review — Wednesday, Jan. 29, 1986 17 hot being one, no one seemed to notice. Several teenage girls spent each lunch hour catching a bit of sun, all over, A little past our rock, young men dove off the rocks and played in the water most days. Al- though it isn’t con- sidered proper here, it seemed perfectly natural there. One day, a young man in a very fast motor boat came flashing into our little cove, we assume to impress the young ladies. In his enthusiasm, he stalled his machine. The next hour was one of hair-pulling, fervent supplications to heaven and a partial dismantel- ing of the engine. With a little help from a young swimmer, who had wat- ched him for half an hour, the much- chastened youth, re- started his engine and departed, very slowly and carefully. 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