Day 71 ~ Korcula, Croatia—Marco Polo’s Hometown…maybe

Croatia’s currency, the Kuna, was named after a small, agile animal with brown fur.
~ The Princess Patter

Croatia is a member of the EU, but they, like the UK, have not adopted the euro as their currency. We didn’t change any of our money into small agile animals before heading into Korcula on a Princess tender, but they took our Euros happily enough once we got to the island. Originally, we’d booked a walking tour of the old walled town through the ship, but when I found out the tour was marked “strenuous,” I cancelled it in favor of rambling on our own.

There’s something really beguiling about crenellated towers and sturdy stone walls. It makes me want to discover what secrets it’s guarding. So even though the steps up into the Old Town were long and steep, we sallied forth (with no problem, I might add!) 

It’s obvious the Venetians were here about 400+ years ago. The ornamentation, the stonework, the generally haphazard layout of the town’s streets is very reminiscent of Venice (only without canals and with steep, winding lanes and lots of stairs.)

Our first stop was the St. Mark’s Cathedral situated at the top of the hill. (The winged lion of Venice appears once again!) This cathedral was built between the 14^th and 16^th centuries. The length of time required for the construction was not unusual. If a town was fortunate enough to be designated to have a cathedral built in it, it meant full employment for at least 100 years!

It’s interesting to note that the current St. Mark’s was built on the same site as a 13^th century Romanesque church. And who knows what pagan temple may have been there prior to that.  There’s evidence of human settlement in the area going back to the 6^th century BC. It seems once a location is determined to be sacred, it stays that way.

The altarpiece is a painting of St. Mark, flanked by St. Jerome and St. Bartholomew. This masterwork was done by the Italian artist, Tintoretto. (Yes, Vicki & Craig, I hear you snickering. To the rest of you, dear readers, I apologize. It’s an inside Table 60 joke that would lose something in the telling. You really had to be there.)

Just down the street from St. Mark’s, there’s a shrine dedicated to Mary with a remarkable mosaic. And then came another small church. In Muslim countries, it seems there’s a mosque on every corner. Ditto for churches in walled towns.

We kept walking through the winding streets, checking shop windows and peeking down every narrow lane. People still live in the Old Town because we saw their laundry hanging out of upper story windows.

Then we ran into the walking tour group we’d bowed out of. They were coming up from the opposite direction we went. Theirs was a more gradual incline and shorter stair case than we negotiated.

Guess I could have done the tour, after all.