After weeks of meandering by car through Europe’s quiet corners and hidden byways, we felt it was time to let the rhythm of the sea guide us. We boarded a ship — a new way to move, a new way to see — trading the gentle movement of our car and then the train for the gentle sway of the waves.
Our journey began in Rome, where we set sail, and our first port of call was La Spezia, a city that felt like a gateway to dreams. From there, the Cinque Terre unfolded before us—five tiny villages strung along the cliffs like beads on a delicate thread. Each village carried its own charm: pastel houses stacked high above the sea, fishing boats resting in small harbors, and the scent of salt and lemon on the wind. Life here moves to the rhythm of the ocean tides and an unhurried pace.
In Portofino, elegance blended with ease. We sat by the harbor, watching the reflections dance on the water and imagining the artists and poets who once did the same. Next, we visited Capri, an island filled with light and legend. The island shimmered with steep cliffs, winding paths, and merriment echoing through narrow lanes scented with lavender.
Further south, Sicily welcomed us with its warmth and vibrant culture. The food and hospitality were beyond words. In Taormina, high above the Ionian Sea, we recalled the ancient Greek theater, where history seems to whisper through every stone. The view was breathtaking, with the sea, sky, and Mount Etna rising like a silent guardian in the distance.
Our ship then took us to Montenegro, where rugged mountains appeared to tumble directly into the Adriatic Sea. The coastline felt wild and untouched, dotted with stone villages that seem unchanged over time.
We returned to Croatia, a country that showcases both its beauty and resilience. In Dubrovnik, the old city walls still resonate with tales of grandeur and sorrow. We met a man who shared his experience of surviving the Croatian war in the 1990s. He recounted that for nineteen months, he and his family endured a life without electricity, food, or any certainty about what tomorrow would bring. Yet, as he spoke, his eyes reflected a quiet strength — the kind that endures and rebuilds.
Later that day, we sailed to Split. On a small boat, we glided past fishing villages and hidden coves where the sea sparkled like glass, revealing another side of Croatia. The world felt simple again—honest, rhythmic, and connected to something much deeper than what is visible to the eye. There was a deep pride in the country and its ability to perservere.
As we drifted along the Adriatic, we realized that travel is not just about seeing new places — it’s about feeling them and allowing their stories to settle quietly in our hearts. We discovered that the true beauty of Europe not only lies in grand palaces or famous squares, but in the stories of strangers, the hum of a boat engine at dusk, and the courage reflected in the memories of its people.
Each harbor, hillside, and small act of kindness has left a lasting impression on us, serving as a reminder that even across borders and centuries, the pulse of humanity beats strongly beneath it all.
You are loved…
Tom and Nancy’s Journeys 