10 Šibenik Sprain

Šibenik (SHI•bi•nick) is a port city in northern Dalmatia sporting the old fortress of St. Anne. The Old Town consists of narrow, steep alleys inter connecting in a seemingly random pattern. We grabbed a jelly-filled doughnut at nearby bakery and spread out to cover the major attractions which included a 24-hour clock, a set of antiquity carved faces, and a Venetian castle. I wondered into the famous Cathedral of Šibenik, a medieval build. I had a mind to pray for my sons and the needs of others in my sphere. The church was beautiful, quiet, naturally drawing me to private worship as most cathedrals do. I followed some locals toward the altar and was cut off by a cash register … “10 KN please.” Eager to see more I considered it a donation. Without context, I was underwhelmed. It was some “historical” baptistery. I was standing in a dim walk-in closet looking at a large basin that a baby might be baptized in. 10 KN to see a baby bathtub?

Out of the church, I ventured upward, incline alley after incline alley, stone stairs after stone stairs. I came upon the Cemetery of St. John. It gave me surrounding views of this gorgeous city. Wow, even more impressive than I thought. On my way down I stumbled into a monastery museum. An old nun dressed in the full black robe and white hat was attending. On display were 16th and 17th-century church artifacts from robes to rings to goblets to hand-written sermons … pretty cool, Curtis would get a kick out of this. On my way down I stumbled again … this time on my post posteriors. My beach flip-flops gave way to the smooth, worn steps and I made like the sliding piano in the Laurel and Hardy movie. My head bobbed up and down as my butt hit step after step until my bottom was on the bottom … ouch. Like when Donna fell, my immediate concern was the camera. In the tumble it was flailing around and bumped the unforgiving stone more than once. I checked it … it worked. I then checked me … I worked … except for the middle finger on my right hand. It had doubled in size. When I closed the hand it looked like I was giving a nasty gesture with a fat finger. With Donna hobbling on her ankle, Dave limping on a swollen knee, and me now with a bum hand, we were a traveling infirmary. Because of my fall, I was late to the rendezvous point and there they stood, my three companions licking a fresh one-scoop gelato … no sympathy.