This is my first time in Dubrovnik, but not my first connection with it. Many years ago, when I had just finished university, I had a boyfriend who was a disaster in many ways. But it took me a long time to see it, but that’s another story. He was an amateur archaeologist and I had known many archaeologists while at university and was beginning to be very interested in the subject. So he suggested that we go on a dig together in France. I was very excited because I’d never done such a thing before and I felt quite safe because I knew he was coming with me. I made all the arrangements – I bought a sleeping bag. I borrowed a trowel from another archaeologist. I forgot about a mosquito net or perhaps no one had warned me of its necessity. I bought the most enormous framed rucksack – another mistake – but was soon ready to set off.

Meanwhile horrible boyfriend was preparing for a trip to Yugoslavia completely unbeknownst to me. About a week before we were due to set off to France he sent me a beautiful letter with some fabulous drawings he had sketched in Dubrovnik. He casually mentioned he was staying there for the summer. Much as I enjoyed receiving illustrated correspondence from him I was quite aghast.

What was I going to do? I couldn’t speak French. I knew nothing about digging. I had no idea how I was going to get to the dig ,

Of course I was very angry. But determined. I decided to go by myself and despite being well out of my comfort zone and being eaten to shreds by the mosquitoes I had a fascinating time. The pictures of Dubrovnik remained in the back of my mind until last week when we decided to come here. ( I’d like to report that that was the end of that particular boyfriend, but…)