Day 24. Thursday 24 April.

T has been reading a rather trashy novel set in Paris about a bakery and the regular references to preserves going onto bread & pastries has inspired a new thought… turn the half-punnet of strawberries into a kind of preserve to accompany the leftover piece of pork loin from Monday night. It’s a challenge to use all fresh supplies before moving on. So, the strawberries were sautéed with some balsamic & a pinch of paprika. We’ll need a final shop for a potato & a small tub of yogurt for Friday brekky. T announces that today’s breakfast will be a café treat.

A small spot in the sun was needed, out of a very fresh breeze. Found just the ticket & ordered coffees to start. Then when a woman arrived at the next table& ordered a rather complicated coffee, T struck up a conversation. Her accent was a bit ‘South African’ but she was an Aussie from Sydney & we talked with some embarrassment about our shared pedantic approaches to coffee. And yes, she was originally from South Africa.

Somewhat distracted by conversation, T ordered the Dalmatian breakfast for two: tuna pate, shrimp, aragula, eggs, tomatoes, toast. What wasn’t mentioned was that the eggs were fried and there were three each – and when the plates arrived, to T’s dismay she had forgotten to ask for no eggs. D was faced with a choice!

Conversation flowed – travels, places, Cape Town (add to bucket list), Croatian bus drivers, her brother the famous cartoonist…..On researching later, we concluded that her brother was probably Jonathon Shapiro nicknamed Zapiro. She was travelling alone with no itinerary, a 6-week break from a stressful Sydney job…her Chinese husband is at home. No names exchanged, but laughs and travel tips…She agreed with our comments about bus drivers, and had registered a complaint!

T walked, D pecked and scratched his way, over to the museum, T worrying that at any moment he might start ‘clucking’. The displays on three floors traced the history of this region, from the first days of human occupation until basically the Roman occupation. It was simple but comprehensive: too much to take in fully but a terrific background and so much of the Roman Empire cultural practices are with us still.

From there, over to St. Donatus church, which has been stripped of most of its internal fittings etc, which are on display or storage at the museum, for further renovation.

The church was built in 9th century on the old Roman forum, ceased being a church at the end of 18th century and was stripped of altars, fittings and religious paraphernalia…and during archaeological work, the floor has been removed to reveal the Roman foundations. It was marvellous to be in ‘a church stripped bare’.

Much of the stripped items are held in the archaeology museum next door. The forum, the church & museum make a terrific trio.

Afterwards, we had a fascinating talk with the young lady at the entry, initially about the church then about the war in the 1990s. She was very animated: her father had been involved, and family property damaged, including her grandmother’s house, destroying all memories. She said her grandmother had died before she was born, but as there were no photos left, she had no idea what she looked like. She mentioned that Zadar had been hit hard and there was lingering resentment – as we parted company, D& T wondering whether there was any truth about her optimism that ‘things are ok now, with the young people’ in the Balkans.

Back to the sea organ. The Adriatic had been whipped up by a strong wind, so the music was much louder, but still no Bo. D hasn’t laid that egg yet but T wonders if he needs any more protein tonight…maybe he can just go with greens & the strawberry- surprise! The answer is ‘No’.