Sabbatikos

One of our guides, maybe in Hvar, maybe in Dubrovnik, or maybe both, told us with a half-smile that a true Croatian custom is to begin the morning with a shot of Slivovitz. Plum brandy at breakfast may not be part of our usual routine, but on our last morning in Croatia, Ian and I decided to embrace the moment when we saw the brandy set out at the serve-yourself breakfast buffet. We raised a glass, mispronounced živjeli, and downed our shots in the morning sunlight of Split. It was strong, but somehow not wrong.

Energized in a slightly sideways way, we set off for the Marjan viewpoint, hiking up through sun-dappled stairs, pausing to pet the local cats along the way and to catch our breath as we climbed. At the top, Split’s port stretched before us in the morning sun. A beautiful view, in a beautiful port, in a beautiful country. We took it all in, slowly and quietly, trying to memorize it, knowing that later today we would head back to Rome.

We wandered back down, reluctant to let go, and made one last visit to Diocletian’s Palace. We had seen it already, walked its crypts and corridors, but this morning it felt different, with new angles and changing light. We found mosaics tucked into corners we had missed before and explored the back side of the ancient sea wall our guide had pointed out the day before. We poked our heads into courtyards, peered through archways, and searching everywhere for a place to mail a few postcards, eventually finding a post office on the far side of the port.

Eventually, it was time. A car picked us up and we drove to the airport. Croatian Airlines carried us back to Rome, and although it was just a short stopover, the city welcomed us back. We walked a new route toward a familiar spot, Al Forno Della Soffitta, where we had eaten lunch earlier in the trip before our visit to the Borghese Gallery. On the way, completely by chance, we passed the Terme di Diocleziano, the largest thermal baths in ancient Rome, created by Emperor Diocletian. Just earlier today, we had stood in Diocletian’s retirement palace in Split. And now here we were, stumbling upon his legacy in Rome, with serendipity unfolding across centuries and the Adriatic.

Dinner was even better than the lunch we had remembered. The restaurant was alive, packed with locals and full of energy. It was the kind of place that makes you fall in love with Rome all over again. There was a line out the door, but miraculously, a phone call from the car on the way into the city from Fiumicino secured us a reservation. It was an early night. Clara and Ian had to be up before dawn to catch their flight home, while we would continue on to a place neither of us had ever been: Helsinki, Finland, for a few days.

We landed in the afternoon and checked into the elegant and stylish Hotel St. George. With a few hours to explore, we wandered into the city, just enough to get a feel for its rhythm. Tawny lit up when we passed a Marimekko store, not realizing until that moment that the iconic brand is Finnish. She was smitten with everything in the store and even more delighted to learn that in Helsinki, Marimekko shops are as common as Starbucks in Seattle. She found some beautiful things before we made our way to Alexanderplats, just around the corner from the hotel, where we had a lovely and leisurely dinner that gave us a taste of tommorrow.

It was hard to say goodbye to the kids, but there was also something special about this next leg of the journey. Just the two of us, discovering a new city, a new country, and getting a little taste of Scandinavia. It was not the end of our epic vacation, but another beginning of a new place waiting to be discovered.