We were constantly surprised by our finds on the Dalmatian Coast of the Adriatic Sea. An Emperor’s palace was certainly a surprise. I asked Claudette whose palace would be in Croatia. She drew a blank, as did I. As the big tour bus rolled into Split, we were about to find out. The bus stopped about one hundred feet from the waterfront for us to disembark. “I wonder where this palace is?” I mused.
Claudette overheard me talking to myself and responded, “ Me too. We’ve seen palaces all over Europe. Usually, you can see a palace from afar before you actually get to it. Except,...maybe...the Medici palace in Florence. It kind of blended with the buildings on the street.”
“Yep, maybe so,” I said.
We entered the palace through a rather nondescript door. This was the retirement palace for the Roman emperor Diocletian built in the early fourth century A.D. Actually, palace is somewhat a misnomer for the seven and one
half acre complex of buildings within the walls. Only about half was used as the emperor’s residence. The total number of residents within the walls would have been about nine thousand and many of these were garrison soldiers. The palace contains over two hundred buildings. We adjusted quickly to the coolness and the lack of the bright Adriatic sun. The tour group appeared to be in the middle of a gift shop. I thought immediately of the movie Exit Through the Gift Shop. Our guide urged us to follow her. Soon we were in the center of a vast empty hall with a barrel vaulted ceiling underground. It was interesting to note that the huge blocks of limestone used in construction were not of a consistent shape. This allowed the stone to be fitted together much like a puzzle. The builders had taken in consideration the frequency of earthquakes and this structure had survived many. The lower level would have allowed access to the sea for escape should it become necessary. We continued to follow our guide through the underground chambers. As I daydreamed about what life would have been like in the fourth century the voice of the guide in my ear brought me back to reality. I nudged Claudette and asked, “Did I hear what I think I heard?”
“If you think you heard that Tito had college students digging through what was left of a fourth century toilet, you are right,” she said.
“H-m-m, maybe archaeology students?” I said. Marshal Tito was the benevolent dictator of Yugoslavia, and Croatia was a part of Yugoslavia when he was in power. We continued underground a bit more before emerging into the bright sunlight. Our group appeared to be on a city street with buildings all around. As we followed our guide through a large arch we were in for a musical treat. The music is called klapa. It is the traditional a cappella singing of the Croatian coast. The voices of seven men blended harmoniously in Croatian folk songs. It was quite a treat. I bought their compact disk. I had bought a fado cd in Portugal. Our guide urged us onward. Soon we were in an urban square or plaza surrounded with columned buildings with arches galore. “This is the Peristyle,” said the guide, “and that building is the entrance to the emperor’s living quarters.” She indicated the cathedral of St. Domnius, originally the mausoleum of Diocletian, which dominated the square. Three temples to various Roman gods are on the Peristyle. One statue of a sphinx, one of the original four imported from Egypt, remains. Soon we were in a less than grandiose area of the palace. Over the years squatters have taken up residence in the palace. Claiming to be descendants of the original inhabitants, the authorities have been unable to dislodge them, although it is a World Heritage Site. They do not maintain their residences up to expectations.
Our tour guide led us back to the waterfront, and we continued on our own.
“H-m-m, maybe archaeology students?” I said. Marshal Tito was the benevolent dictator of Yugoslavia, and Croatia was a part of Yugoslavia when he was in power. We continued underground a bit more before emerging into the bright sunlight. Our group appeared to be on a city street with buildings all around. As we followed our guide through a large arch we were in for a musical treat. The music is called klapa. It is the traditional a cappella singing of the Croatian coast. The voices of seven men blended harmoniously in Croatian folk songs. It was quite a treat. I bought their compact disk. I had bought a fado cd in Portugal. Our guide urged us onward. Soon we were in an urban square or plaza surrounded with columned buildings with arches galore. “This is the Peristyle,” said the guide, “and that building is the entrance to the emperor’s living quarters.” She indicated the cathedral of St. Domnius, originally the mausoleum of Diocletian, which dominated the square. Three temples to various Roman gods are on the Peristyle. One statue of a sphinx, one of the original four imported from Egypt, remains. Soon we were in a less than grandiose area of the palace. Over the years squatters have taken up residence in the palace. Claiming to be descendants of the original inhabitants, the authorities have been unable to dislodge them, although it is a World Heritage Site. They do not maintain their residences up to expectations.
Our tour guide led us back to the waterfront, and we continued on our own.
Claudette and I enjoyed a cappuccino by the sea. I enjoy watching watercraft come and go. We had only been there fifteen minutes or so when sidewalk activity seemed to increase. Between our table at the outdoor cafe and street front buildings a crowd was gathering. There was a news media van and a lot of men in suits and ties. According to our waiter, Barbie was coming. Who was Barbie? Barbie is the affectionate nickname of the president of Croatia, Kolinda Grabar-Kitarovic. The tall blond is the first woman president of Croatia. Many pictures of the statuesque woman appeared on the internet in a very brief bikini, but they were all proved to be another blond. Our tour guide told us that the prime minister wields the true power in the Croatian government. The Prime Minister did appear for a few minutes. We were not privy to the reason for his visit to this city of one hundred eighty thousand.
We had a snack of miniature pizzas on the way back to the tour bus. At the small restaurant on a plaza, I enjoyed watching a small boy play peek-a-boo with his mother around the statue of some hero of a bygone era. Once on the bus we would continue our trip along the Dalmatian Coast, which is slightly reminiscent of the Amalfi Coast of Italy.
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