Here’s the thing about travel: the more you venture out there, the more you discover the infinite supply of people and places just waiting to surprise you. The strangers who leave an impact on your life and the places that touch a part of your soul. That’s what this trip to Croatia, and later Bosnia and Herzegovina, was all about.
Even a dictionary is useless in describing the magical transformation of arriving somewhere as a complete stranger, only to find a sense of belonging amongst people you’d never met before and in a place you didn’t know. Of crossing paths with someone and sharing a moment in time before you each go about your lives again.
To me, a mark of a good trip is leaving having made genuine connections with people from that place. Sometimes you become friends and keep in touch over the years. Other times it’s only their memory that stays with you of how they made your trip a little brighter. To me, the human connection is the most important element of travel.
That’s why my friend Nellie, who I traveled with, suggested we make a list of everyone we met on our trip, complete with notes about what they taught us and how they made our trip better. Because even if we were kindred sprits only for a short while, each person we met was a guide in a way, helping us steer our travels in new directions and deepening our experience and understanding of the place we were visiting.
Skipping Every “Must-See” in One of Europe’s Most Photographed Cities
Normally, most of us pick a place to travel based on photos we see online, Youtube videos, movies, books, and friend’s word of mouth. But before this trip, I’d scarcely seen any photos of any of the cities we visited. It all came as a surprise. We didn’t save any restaurants or attractions on Google Maps or even check travel blogs about what to do. The only thing we did was book plane tickets and hostels. The rest, we let the days take shape based on people we met and conversations we had.
My jaw physically dropped when I saw the views from the bus window on the way to the old town from the airport. The most glistening sea I’d ever laid eyes on, the cliffs descending into the water, and of course the majestic fortress standing proud. Goosebumps crawled on my skin as the feeling of awe crashed upon me like a wave. This scene was entirely unexpected in the most magical way. I started wondering that if with YouTube and social media, we’ve lost the ability to be taken by surprise.
But that wasn’t the only surprise. Perhaps the biggest one is that after three days in the city, we must be the only people on the planet who traveled all the way to Dubrovnik only to not walk the old city walls, hardly spend any time in the old city, not go to a single museum, and not do any Game of Thrones tours. Our highlight of Dubrovnik was a tiny cafe bar on the outskirts of the city where men smoked inside, sipped on black coffee in tiny cups, and shared conversation. Yet somehow amongst all the guys, two foreign women (Nellie and I), somehow befriended them as they took us under their wing and welcomed us into their space.
The Man-Cave
The way we found this place in the first place is that Nellie, who had arrived in Dubrovnik one day before me, had spotted the cafe on the way to the hostel. She’d seen men smoking and drinking coffee inside, but she hadn’t gone in by herself. The next day, desperate for our caffeine fix first thing in the morning, we decided to try it together.
As we stood across the street, we could see shadows and smoke billowing out the window and hear the squeaks of an espresso machine. We committed to going in, but walked in slowly, eyeing the place to see if we’d feel safe and welcome. As we took our first step inside, we could feel all eyes on us. That’s when Jako, who was sitting on a stool in a tracksuit, vaping and drinking coffee with a stack of cash on the table, said to us in English, “Hi! Welcome, don’t be afraid, we are friendly!” That’s all it took to break the ice.
It was here, in this small cafe we nicknamed the “man-cave,” that we found a sense of belonging alongside Jako (a cruise-ship captain), Ivan (the cafe bar owner who doesn’t drink coffee and doesn’t smoke), and a couple of other local guys who took turns buying us rounds of espresso. We suspect we must have been the highlight of their days in a cafe where most tourists pass by without giving it a second glance.
On our first morning at the man-cave, we hung out for about two or three hours. It felt like stepping back in time where people smoked inside and conversed instead of being on their phones. They were respectful and let us have our coffee in peace, while also making good conversation with us. We felt we could be curious and ask them questions too. We wanted to learn about regular life in Dubrovnik, and they told us how touristy and commercialized the city has become and how the local culture is getting erased (at least in the old town). This explained why it was impossible to find any traditional Croatian food, and why all the options seemed to be pizza or pasta.
They also told us that Croatia recorded the highest annual inflation rate in the EU this year, that locals are struggling to make ends meet, and that many of the local men are ship captains or work at sea, gone for long stretches with little to do when they return. And they confirmed what we suspected: most people working in the old town aren’t from Croatia, but are seasonal workers from neighboring countries like North Macedonia and Montenegro.
The next day, Saturday, the same guys were there, but this time several of them had brought their dogs, including Ringo Starr the Schnauzer. We also watched a man drop off a couple of mysterious plastic jugs. They turned out to be homemade wine, the cafe’s house wine for customers.
Jako was so kind and checked in on us throughout the rest of our trip, even after we ventured off to Bosnia and Herzegovina. He gave us recommendations and said that if we got into any trouble, he’d be there for us. To a bystander, this may sound like a “stranger danger” scenario, but both Nellie and I have a nose for reading people, and we can confidently say his offers to help were safe and genuine. We both agreed that if we’d gotten into any trouble, we wouldn’t have hesitated to contact him.
Every Plan Came From Someone We Met
The views around Dubrovnik were jaw-dropping. Huge fortress walls stood with such intense presence against the bright blue, glittering Adriatic Sea. Nellie and I couldn’t wait to swim in it. Before we even had the chance to look up the popular swim spots, it occurred to us to ask our man-cave friends and our hostel host where they’d recommend. That’s how we ended up taking the bus to the end of the line and finding a secret set of stairs behind a church, which took us down into the water at a pristine beach.
On another night, Nellie and I exhausted Google Maps in search of traditional local food. We asked our city guide, but he only had pasta and pizza recommendations. We then asked our hostel host, who recommended a small place within walking distance of our hostel. We were excited to try traditional Croatian food, only to find out the restaurant was owned by a man from Bosnia serving ćevapi and ajvar, which are more typical of Bosnian cuisine! At least it wasn’t just pizza, we thought. It was here that two other sailors befriended us: Captain Josep and his first mate, also named Ivan. They were sitting at the table next to us and saw us debating what to order. They didn’t hesitate to invite us over to their table, and we ended up chatting with them for at least two hours!
On the last evening, itching for a spectacular sunset, Nellie and I made our way to the tallest lookout point in Dubrovnik to watch the sun go down. We hadn’t realized what a journey it was up a very remote mountain, or that while we’d found a driver to take us up, very few were willing to make the trip back down. The ones who did charged outrageous prices. That’s why we ended up asking a Japanese couple who were waiting for a taxi if we could join them and split the cost. The whole drive back to the city was so fun as we swapped travel stories and learned about their lives. It was a fleeting interaction, but it made our trip very special.
A Bus Ticket and the Adventure Ahead
These are moments never to be repeated. Although I’d go back to Dubrovnik just to say hello to our man-cave friends, if you were to visit, you might not have the same experience we did. My point isn’t for you to go to Dubrovnik and visit this cafe. My point is that sometimes it’s the people and places we least expect that bring us the best experiences and memories. It’s an invitation to immerse yourself in the place you’re visiting, even if it means skipping the must-dos and must-sees, and to surrender yourself to the open path and to unplanned conversations that may lead to unconventional places.
After three days, it was time to say goodbye to our man-cave friends and continue our journey into neighboring Bosnia and Herzegovina. Once again, we were entering new territory without an inkling of a plan. We just had a bus ticket and a hostel booking. The rest of our trip would be shaped by the people we met along the way, and wow, would we go on to have the adventure of a lifetime, one we never could have planned.
Bosnia and Herzegovina brought even more people for our strangers-turned-friends list. Subscribe to Long Way Home Chronicles if you haven’t yet, and part two will come straight to your inbox. Thanks for reading, and I’d love to hear from you in the comments: have you ever skipped the must-sees on a trip and found something better?
Thank you for this lively travel story! You took me to a sense of connection with strangers off the tourist path and, in micro scenes, refreshed my hope for humanity.