Many sea arrivals in the Mediterranean are a slow glide over liquid silk as the sun’s yolk cracks over purple hills, and breezes tease you with hints of thyme and pine. Golden fortifications tilt over the ship’s railings, protecting some old town that slides into a handsome harbour. But on this morning off Sibenik in Croatia, my arrival on Azamara Pursuit is the most handsome of the lot.
I abandon my breakfast in Windows Cafe – my latest indulgence, now we’re in Croatia, is a flaky-pastry bucnica stuffed with pumpkin, cheese and eggs – to race to the deck. A window view of Sibenik on Croatia’s Dalmation Coast. Credit: iStock Sibenik out-Mediterraneans the Mediterranean.
The approach through islands is glorious. St Nicholas Fort squats on one island like a set from Game of Thrones . Then the ship slips through a channel so narrow I could almost leap ashore.
Behind, a hidden harbour opens up. The blues are so liquid it’s hard to tell where sea ends and sky begins. And yes, there’s an old town.
And another fort. And wait – two more forts as well. And yet the harbour bobs only with yachts at anchor.
The cruise quay is quiet. The town hasn’t yet stirred but for a few old men at waterfront cafes. Sibenik is undisturbed by big-ship crowds and raucous jet setters.
I’ve cruised the Mediterranean many times, and previously been to Croatia by both land and sea. And yet somehow, until now, I haven’t noticed Sibenik. It isn’t much noticed by anyone, compared with.
