Sabbatikos

I woke early on the morning of May 18th to the low thrum of helicopters circling overhead and the wail of sirens echoing through the Rome’s cobbled streets. I pulled back the curtain and glanced toward the American Embassy, just outside the window of the Westin Excelsior where we were staying. Was something happening? An incident? An emergency?

No, there was no crisis, just Rome making history once again. This was the day Pope Leo XIV would officially begin his Petrine Ministry with his first Sunday Mass, and the Eternal City teemed with anticipation. The Inaugural Mass of the Bishop of Rome drew more than 200,000 people, filling every piazza, basilica, and barricaded street near Vatican City. Heads of state, royalty, celebrities, and delegations from over 200 nations were in town. Among them were President Volodymyr Zelenskyy of Ukraine, U.S. Vice President JD Vance, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, an array of kings and queens, celebrities, and even Oprah Winfrey!

I was up early to haul our newly acquired souvenir-stuffed suitcase, courtesy of Piazza Navona, to our next hotel just down the street, the Sina Bernini Bristol. While we were leaving Rome for Croatia today, we would be back in a week and didn’t want to carry all our treasures with us. As I crossed the lobby of the Westin Excelsior, I was sure I spotted someone important, not because I recognized them, but because a literal wall of security surrounded him, eyeing me and my stuffed suitcase with cautious interest. I discreetly rolled my bag past them and out onto Via Vittorio Veneto, the street where Fellini set La Dolce Vita and where, today, black cars, armored convoys, and motorcycle brigades zipped by, escorting dignitaries to St. Peter’s Basilica in time for the 10 a.m. Mass.

Every nearby hotel was swarming with activity; black cars with tinted windows, flashing lights, and a sea of uniforms. I texted Tawny to tell her all the hubub without trying to attract too much attention from another security detail as I passed another hotel. “How long is a Catholic Mass?” I asked. “About two hours” she replied. Mass would end at noon.

That meant we’d be trying to leave for the airport right as the masses at Mass were flooding the streets with street closures for the police escorts. Not ideal. We scrambled to rescheduled our ride to Fiumicino (FCO) a bit early, just in case Pope Leo’s benedictions became bottlenecks.

We avoided the traffic and left Rome behind, catching an early afternoon flight to Dubrovnik. The contrast was immediate, from the horns, history, and holiness of Rome to the breezy calm of Croatia’s Dalmatian Coast. The airport was tiny, serene, maybe four gates, and it welcomed us as if it knew we needed a break from the Roman crowds.

Our driver and our guide for tomorrow met us at the airport and whisked us north, past Dubrovnik’s famous fortress walls, toward our seaside refuge: the Hotel Dubrovnik Palace. Elegant, perched above the cliffs, with sweeping views of the Adriatic Sea that made us exhale and immediately relax.

We debated wandering around the Old Town but instead strolled to a nearby village, down steep steps to the clear turquoise waters of the Adriatic, past swim ladders and swimming holes, and discovered the outdoor waterfront patio of Cave Bar More, carved into the cliffside. We sat outside with the sea just below us, waves licking the rocks as we sipped Aperol spritzes and, our new discovery, Hugo spritzes. The food was unfussy and perfect: an outstanding veggie sandwich, fries that deserved international recognition with their unique shape that seems to be popular in Croatia, and a burger that hit the spot. Apparently, burgers are very popular in Croatia. Who knew?

The sunset was lovely, but the temperature dropped quickly. Just as we were about to leave, we stumbled upon something we had somehow missed on the way in. The actual cave of the Cave Bar. We must have been too mesmerized by the azure waters to notice it. There it was, hidden beneath the cliffs, dimly lit and atmospheric, with another bar tucked inside the rock itself. Naturally, we stayed for another round. It felt like drinking in a secret hideaway carved into cliff.

We capped the evening with a stop at a local shop for snacks and a bottle of Croatian wine. Back at our hotel, we took our glasses out to the veranda and watched replica boats drift across the sea on their sunset tours while the Adriatic shimmered with the last light of the day.

From papal pageantry to coastal serenity, from solemn Latin Masses to sunlit spritzes by the sea, Croatia quickly charmed us and became our new favorite place.