It’s strange how attached to technology I have become. The WiFi promised to me in my rented apartment was noticeably absent; hotmail had arbitrarily locked me out of my account (what did I ever do to Microsoft?); and the Internet Cafes insisted that I use their computers and not my own. As I reflected on this last night, I started to feel out of touch and a tiny bit lonely. Then, I remembered, that’s how I’m supposed to feel. This trip is about embracing being alone and incommunicado (at least some of the time).

So I dusted off my enthusiasm and headed for a moonlit stroll through the warm night air. I found the perfect wine bar (D’Avino) to begin my new love affair with Croatian wine. I discovered a red Dingac and am already wondering how to import it when I get home. Before the wine went to my head, my Croatian bar tender suggested that I head up a LONG flight of uneven stairs to his favourite little restaurant: “Lady Pi Pi”. The hike was worth it. The stone courtyard had a gentle breeze and I dined on the freshest grilled fish I have ever tasted. By 10pm, I could barely remain vertical. The day had begun at 2:30am and with a 90-minute delay at Gatwick, a 2-hour flight, and a hike with my luggage through the streets, fatigue had become my new companion. I stumbled home (from exhaustion not intoxication – for once), pulled the shutters, and sank into my scratchy sheets (apparently the norm here).

When I woke up today, I ventured to the market to sip a latte and watch the locals play out their morning routine. Men in undershirts hawked fresh produce while women with short hair and sensible sandals drank espresso and chain-smoked cigarettes. I could have stayed all day, but the city walls beckoned. I wanted to stroll the perimeter of the city before the heat made this excursion unbearable. From the many vantage points, I had to pinch myself as I took in Dubrovnik’s breathtaking beauty. Red tiled roofs, white brick buildings, and blue-green water. Heaven on earth! The only downside was the influx of tourists who began streaming up the steep stairs and onto the narrow walkway. I had to fight through crowds of them when I got back to ground level too. I felt like a local as I began to count down the hours until their cruise ship left and I could have “my” city back.

Now I sit in another open-air café, sipping a cappuccino. Multiple languages mix with the sound of clinking glasses and the shouts of a chef calling out orders in the bustling kitchen. I am grateful to be sitting with my laptop in the shade of a giant white umbrella. Two days ago London’s biting wind made me wish for my winter jacket and today I am wondering if I need to track down more sunscreen. I love how a 2-hour flight can transport you into another world.

The city starts to quiet as the locals head for their afternoon siestas. Maybe I will join them. Tonight I plan to sit at a café on a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean and spend some quality time with my new lover: Dignac wine, so I better rest up.

I know how lucky I am. I feel at peace, healthy, rested and miles away from sickness. I am remembering how to enjoy the simple pleasures: a hot cappuccino, a glass of chilled wine, and the sunlight dancing off the Adriatic.