I have just come back from a lovely week in Dalmatia with my husband. I know many of you love seeing my holiday photos, so I am sharing my favourite three photos with you.
One day we went on a walk around Lovište, half island Pelješac and we came across a beautiful tombstone. There it was written in Croatian:
Ovdje je pokopano moje milo zlato, koje preminulo od kužne bolesti na 5.11.1918. Ožalošćeni otac Marko Popović postavi
Translation would be:
My sweet girl, who died of infectious disease on November 5, 1918, is buried here. Grieving father Marko Popović
(moje milo zlato / is such a beautiful expression, I can't translate it good enough).
We were admiring this beautiful tomb in the most wonderful nature you can imagine in silence. I was thinking about all the sadness that there once was. And how everything ends, also sadness.
We were alone on that spot when suddenly an old couple came along. The man told us that he is a nephew (or great-nephew) of a girl who is burried there. Her name was Ursula Popović, she died when 11.
Second photo: our beach in Pelješac, opposite is town Korčula, island Korčula (according to some theories Marco Polo was born here).
Third photo: island Hvar, view from the balcony of our rented apartment.