Better Off Dead

You know that line in Jerry Maguire where Tom Cruise blathers, 'You complete me' to the gullible blond? Well that's how I feel about Dubrovnik, Croatia. Never has a city so captured my heart. Stretching out into the Mediterranean, the picture-perfect Stari Grad (Old Town) exhibits stunning medieval architecture astride smooth stone streets, spacious town squares bustling with life, and splendid cafes and bars which beget a musical reverie come evening; all of which is surrounded by an imposing stone edifice replete with turrets. George Bernard Shaw called Dubrovnik, 'Paradise on Earth'. Since I can't compete with that kind of descriptive magnificence I'll just say that it was 'Utopia on Terra Firma'. Original, no? When you step off the bus in Dubrovnik the heat hits you in the face like a wet slap. Just as you begin to recover from the blow a throng of weathered old women descend on you like a cloud of locusts, jockeying to offer you private accommodation in their homes. It's a bit like a livestock auction?and you're the prize pig. When we arrived Kristen and I picked an old lady with no glaring deficiencies, were promptly deposited in her rickety old car, then whisked off to the unknown. She spoke only a few words of English but had a kindly, broad smile and instantly softened our skeptical hearts with cookies and drinks when we arrived at her home. The place seemed clean and comfortable so we agreed on three nights. Better still, she granted us use of her washing machine; which was fantastic because my clothes smelled like they had spent the better part of a fortnight in a dumpster. We threw in a load of clothes and the old lady offered to hang them on the line and fold them for us so we could head to the Stari Grad. Excited about our luck we grabbed the keys and took off. Our first indication that something wasn't quite Kosher was when the purported 'ten minute' walk to the Old Town turned into twenty, then thirty minutes. Well, knowing that old people are prone to exaggerate and occasionally pee themselves, we let it roll off our backs. The Stari Grad was worth any walk. We enjoyed an evening at a great seafood restaurant before settling in to listen to some cool jazz music at an outdoor cafe. When we returned at around 2am, the house was still. Kristen went to wash up and I was organizing some stuff in our room when, without warning, the door flung open and there stood the old maid. She had a wild look in her eyes, her steel gray hair standing on end. Pointing her figure around the room she loudly exclaimed, 'Madame?! Madame?!'. Assuming she was looking for Kristen I pointed towards the wash room and indicated she was within. With a look of relief she quickly vanished into her room without another word. Odd, to say the least. The next morning I took a day trip to the stunningly green island of Mljet. I met another couple of Canadian girls (Europe is infested with Canucks) and we lazed around the two giant lakes of the island's National Park, swimming in the cool waters and baking in the sun. When I returned I found our laundry on the dresser, separated into two neat piles (his and hers), with a note on each that read '20 Kuna'. Since we hadn't discussed any charge it seemed this sweet little old lady was trying to extort about $8 for a load a laundry that had maybe ten articles of clothing in it. Irritated at the gall of the women, we did what any self respecting people would do when they felt they were getting ripped off; we decided to sneak out without paying. We managed to avoid her the rest of the afternoon, and the following morning we quietly packed up our things. Feeling guilty, we left a few dollars on the dresser and hastily made for the door. Unfortunately her husband, a lone sentry, was standing guard outside our room and yelled for his wife the moment we appeared. My blood curdled as this sweet old lady, now a nightmarish banshee, swept down the steps whilst uttering some chilling language of the dead (or possibly Croatian). Her broad smile had became a twisted grimace of hate, her hair a nest of snakes striking blindly at the air. All I could make out was something about 40 Kuna as those wild eyes searched my soul for penance. Fear sucked the air from my lungs, so I mumbled and pointed towards the insufficient funds on the dresser as I made haste towards the exit. Kristen was right on my heals but when we cleared the door I exhorted her to run. Sensing she was right behind us we blindly ran down a steep hill and dashed around the edge of a truck. When the devil is on your heals, you don't stop and ask for directions. Laughing uncontrollably, we made our way to the bus station and sped away from a most certain doom.