Romancing the Adriatic on a Seabourn Cruise

The Romantic Cruise of a Lifetime                  

By Toby Saltzman
Sailing Seabourn's Adriatic Gems Itinerary           

A little paper boat tucked with pictures of our smiling faces conjures memories of our anniversary escapade around the Adriatic Sea. Reflecting on our lifetime of la dolce amore – the sweet romance – of seeing the world together, my husband, Ken and I reminisce that cruising the Seabourn Spirit’s Adriatic Gems itinerary for our 45^th anniversary was meant to be. 

Having sailed all the Seabourn vessels, we relished returning to the familiar intimacy of this 200-passenger yacht, knowing we were in for sumptuous ambience, gracious service and delectable cuisine. As the 10-day itinerary looped from Venice, it invited a pre-cruise interlude at the historic Westin Europa and Regina palazzo hotel, where we’d celebrated our 15^th and 18^th anniversaries.

On deck as the Spirit sailed out of Venice’s blue lagoon, bypassing architectural glories of the Venetian archipelago, we toasted Champagne to the stone Lion of Venice, symbol of the ancient Venetian Republic, which once ruled the Adriatic Sea and surrounding lands. The lion knew as we did, that sailing out of Venice in the afternoon is one thing, sailing in at dawn is quite another. 

Back in our suite, we enjoyed the view from our French Balcony while settling in. As always on Seabourn, the Spirit’s welcome was perfect. Flowers, a bowl of fresh fruit and Champagne chilling in a silver bucket graced the table. Our bar was stocked with wines and spirits. This signature of Seabourn’s all-inclusive style extends to all drinks on board. The bathroom with its twin sinks held a lush array of Molten Brown amenities – including Oriental-style potions for a Zen bath. And our maid arrived, offering Hermes soap and a soothing herbal bar.

The desk held a map of the lounges, library, computer centre, casino, boutique, spa and fitness centre, the pool and medical facility. And, as the Adriatic coast is rich with UNESCO World Heritage Sites plus diverse nature and adventure attractions, the concierge had left note of her top picks for special interests. For active types, she suggested kayaking in Montenegro’s Kotor Bay; and from Croatia’s Split, a river-rafting expedition down Tregir Island’s Cetina River rapids. For culture buffs: a visit from Brindisi to see Alberabello’s ancient Trulli houses; and from Venice, a day trip to Murano glassblowers and Burano lacemakers. For gourmands and oenophiles: joining a local fisherman in Split to see oyster and mussel beds; or exploring the Rovinj wineries and olive groves, with tastings along the way. For romantics: a nighttime gondola ride through the back canals of Venice; or a visit to Romeo and Juliet’s Verona, where the world’s best preserved coliseum dates to 30 BC. 

As this was our third Adriatic experience, we planned independent sightseeing in familiar places, and private guides for first-time visits to Kotor and Brindisi.

Being at sea for the first day proved a great advantage. After an exhilarating walk around deck, we attended a lecture on the Adriatic Sea which boiled down to a litany of conquests by the Romans and Greeks; the Venetians who scattered images of their lion on city walls and in squares; Napoleon, and the Austrian Hapsburgs who succeeded him. 

Sea days were pure bliss on the Spirit. A chance to lounge side-by side on the pool deck while clairvoyant servers brought cool towels, frothy spritzers and skewers of fruit. A chance to indulge in the spa, as I did with a skin-silkening seaweed massage. Or tuck into favourite places – like the Sky Bar or the whirlpool enclave at the ship’s bow. A chance to mingle with other passengers: British judges and barristers; Australian business moguls, American doctors, European professors, Canadian teachers and real estate magnates. Seabourn’s clientele are well-heeled, yet unstuffy.  Many had sailed on other Seabourn vessels. Among their hot topics: matching Seabourn ships to global itineraries. Their consensus: the Spirit for the Adriatic; the newer Odyssey for the Caribbean. 

That evening was divine, starting with dinner at Captain David Bathgate’s table. Over a feast of caviar, sea bream, marinated lobster tail, herbed rack of lamb, and a mouthwatering chocolate dessert, we met two American couples that have remained friends. Back in our suite, we opened the French balcony and watched the stars, canoodling like honeymooners, our heartbeats echoing the sensual rhythm of the waves. 

We rose before dawn the next morning, to see the sun rise over the fiord-like entrance to Montenegro’s Kotor Bay and the black mountains that prompted its name. After tendering ashore to meet private guides under a quintessential Venetian lion, we embarked on an energetic tour, starting with a steep climb up the stone steps of the 15^th century city walls. After exploring the city, we hopped in a motorboat to two tiny isles, then sped to uber-luxe Porto Montenegro, where the marina and pool attract some of the world’s richest yachts.     

From the ancient fort guarding Corfu, a short walk led to Austrian Princess Elisabeth’s opulent Achillion Palace. Steps away, the old city core bustled, its gesticulating shopkeepers eager for Euros. We stumbled into historic remnants of Corfu’s religious heritage: a little church with a towering bell tower and a small synagogue with stained glass windows. 

Brindisi was thrilling, not for the port itself, but for our private excursion to Lecce, “Florence of Apulia.” A jewel of Baroque architecture, its ornately embellished buildings are carved of unique Leccese stone. Besides the Roman amphitheatre and breathtaking Santa Croce church, a must for art aficionados is the studio of Marco Epicochi, the papier-mâché artist who crafts some of the world’s most sought-after nativity scenes. 

That evening, Chef de Cuisine Martin Kitzing showcased his talent with a creative tasting menu including seared beef carpaccio, champagne sorbet, Tournedo Rossini, and raspberry soufflé. 

Medieval Dubrovnik – dubbed “pearl of the Adriatic” – was a highlight for passengers eager to see the restoration after the 1990s siege by Serbia and Montenegro. As always, we climbed up to the 14^th century wall and circled the ramparts to view the wealth of Gothic and Renaissance architecture.  

Love was in the air as the Spirit sailed toward Split with a festive outdoor barbecue featuring steak, lobster, oysters and other seafood delicacies. Dancing under starry skies, we laughed that, that decades after meeting at a teen dance, we could still twist and jive. 

Split was a treat, as much for the spectacular Diocletian palace built in AD 295 as the jaunt with Chef de Cuisine Martin Kitzing to the fish and fruit markets. Seeing his meticulous selection process added appreciation to dining on langoustine and tuna ceviche appetizers and Dorado with lobster spaetzle. 

In Triluke Bay, active passengers came out to play when the Spirit opened her marina, releasing a netted swimming pool and a bevy of water toys – windsurfs, kayaks, banana boats, paddle boats and motored Zodiacs for water skiers. Perfect for the actives at heart.

Jutting from the Istria Peninsula, Rovinj exceeded our expectations from the first glance at its cliff-top church rising from tiers of coloured houses. Behind ancient walls and a town square with its Venetian lion, we explored a steep maze of streets, peeking at artists’ studios and displays of stone jewelry. 

On deck before dawn the next morning, we watched the rising sun cast orange and crimson hues across the sea, then illuminate the sky. Venice appeared like a mirage afloat on an iridescent green sea, its mosaic domes and gilded statues glistening, its proud lion welcoming us back to the city of amore. That evening we celebrated with an anniversary meal of caviar, fois gras with caramelized apples, beef Wellington, and a chocolate tart. Later in the show lounge, we were stunned when the flutist played Moe Kofmann’s Swingin’ Shepherd Blues. Talk about “meant to be!” In our dating days, we’d often listen to the artist finger variations for that piece in Toronto’s old George’s Spaghetti House. Ecstatic, we returned to our suite to find it decorated with balloons. On the table was a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and a little paper boat tucked with pictures of our faces. 

Amore Amore, Venice

In the mist of dawn, Venice masquerades. It becomes a place of ethereal beauty where islands mystically levitate over translucent green seas, a place of serene inspiration. From our terrace, overlooking the lagoon entrance to the Venetian archipelago under the rising sun, we see Venice in a new face. Mosaic domes glitter, refracting rainbow halos. The façade of the Doge’s Palace wafts from cream to crimson. The gilded globe and Statue of Fortune capping the 15^th century Dogana da Mar (customs house) shines like a beacon. By now, we’ve come to see Venice as a virtual kaleidoscope, changing hues with the moving sun, shifting personalities in places and times of day. Tranquil here, frenetic there. At this glorious moment, I said: No wonder they call Venice La Serenissima, serene one.

Venice was far from serene on the afternoon we arrived, its Piazza San Marco swarming with tourists feeding pigeons and jostling to enter the Basilica and Campanile tower. Tugging my husband Ken’s hand, I said, “Why fight frenzy when we can surrender to la dolce vita, the sweet life? Forget lists. In Venice, it’s not how much you see, it’s how you see it.” That instant, we gave our hearts and minds to Venice, trusting her intrinsic charm to lead us. 

Meandering through the right bank, following shady calle (narrow streets) and bridges curving over canals, we arrived at sunny campo (squares) fringed with gleaming stone buildings. Musical notes of Verdi’s La Traviata enticed a peek at its gilded balconies painted with angels. The scent of espresso led to a café in Campo Santa Margherita. Lingering over a fragrant brew and crunchy macaroons, we noticed couples stopping to kiss near a stone dragon. When I asked the barista, “Why?” She said, “It symbolizes our patron saint for pregnant mothers. Venice seduces couples to kiss.” Sweet as it seemed, I saved my kisses for elsewhere.

Sensual to its core, Venice was built on love and lust of conquests. Long before Casanova seduced beautiful signore, scattering trails of broken-hearted conquest, Venice flaunted victorious by scattering images of the Venetian lion on the stone ramparts and towers of key cities bordering the sea. From the 5^th century to the 15th, Venice had grown from one islet to 118 laced by bridges. It gained formidable power as headquarters of the Republic of Venice. Its influential Doges (leaders) ruled the Dalmation Coast and Constantinople (now Istanbul) from a seaside palazzo (palace) that incorporated the domain’s noble residence, Senate, Justice Courts and prison. Its Grand Canal showcased a parade of lavish palazzi owned by nobility and commercial magnates who adorned the façades with a mélange of architectural details – from Roman, Greek, Byzantine, Rococo, Baroque and Romantic to Renaissance, often adding whimsical sculptures of faces or gargoyles, leaving a legacy of Venetian style. 

Over time, Venice’s maritime lustre faded. Turks captured Constantinople. America’s discovery diverted trade routes. Napoleon occupied Venice in 1797, then ceded it to Austria. Venice finally reunited with Italy in 1866, its architectural gems fairly intact, albeit decaying. Today Venice is a protected UNESCO World Heritage Site, arguably one of the world’s most romantic cities.   

An archway led to the wooden Accademia Bridge. Dallying at its crest, alongside a painter dabbing his easel, we watched the flow of life on Venice’s main street, the Grand Canal: gondoliers belting out O Solo Mio while navigating single oars, evading passing yachts, vaporetti (water buses), water-taxis and cargo vessels.  Turning left off the bridge, past the left bank’s artists’ studios and boutiques sparkling with Murano glass, we found a calming enclave in the white palazzo of the Peggy Guggenheim Collection of Modern Art. De rigueur for art aficionados, the American heiress’s cache includes works by Picasso, Klee, Braque, Kandinsky and Miro, as well as luminaries Jackson Pollack (whom she discovered), and Max Ernst (whom she married). Outside, the terrace proved another perch for cacophony on the Grand Canal, but the courtyard sculpture garden was serene, haven for reflection on our day. 

Exhilarated, we strolled to our aristocratic “home” at the Westin Europa and Regina Hotel. Facing the Grand Canal, it comprises three historic palazzi, including one originally owned by the Tiepolo family, whose sons included two Doges as well as the famed painter whose works grace the Accademia and Doge’s Palace. Molto bello – very beautiful – we’ve loved it since celebrating our 18^th anniversary here. Back for the fourth time – for our 45^th – we sipped Champagne on our wide terrace, imbibing a view spanning the deep blue lagoon, the Grand and Giudecca canals, the islands and sea beyond. 

Later, at our hotel’s La Cuisina Restaurant, we lucked into a romantic table-for-two that juts into the Grand Canal like the bow of a yacht. “Divine” barely describes the scene as the setting sun’s rays crossed the indigo canal, tinting the Basilica de Salute’s white marble to gold just before it faded under a celestial sky.

Blue again, the Grand Canal buzzed with locals on vaporettos. Off at the Rialto Bridge – Venice’s oldest, circa 1590 – we dodged through Rialto market’s slew of hustling fishmongers, butchers and inescapable souvenir-hawkers, to find the Jewish Ghetto. The only place in Venice where Jews were allowed to live, they housed their growing population by adding stories, creating the world’s first high-rises. Here, archives and artifacts at the synagogue and Jewish Museum gave historic insight to their lives. 

Leaving the Ghetto Cannaregio area along the sunny fondamenta (canal-side walkway) we passed cafés brimming with locals en route to the Gallerie del Accademia. Though still under renovation, it literally took our breath away with its exquisite collection of 14^th to 18^th century works detailing Venetian history, culture and society. Poignantly, many works by Carpaccio, Bellini, Tintoretto, Veronese, Titian and Tiepolo survived by being hidden during Napoleon Bonaparte’s occupation of Venice. 

Wandering behind the Academia, little wrought-iron bridges led to Santa Croce, an area exuding authentic flavor: its bakery windows tucked with pastries and pastel macaroons; its art studios full of original masks for Carnivale; and, at the gondola yard near San Pietro di Castello, artists sketching canvases.  

Cocktails turned into dinner at the Westin Europa and Regina’s canal-front Tiepolo Bar. Ken’s peach Bellini and my Venetian Spritz (a concoction of sparkling wine and Proseco, mixed with Campari or Aperol) begged for cicchetti. The more we tried, the more we ate of the delectable, Venetian morsels of crisply fried calamari, baby octopus, zucchini flowers, and meatballs. 

At dawn, Piazza San Marco beckoned a visit before tourists would invade to ogle the Basilica’s dazzling interior. Without hordes, we relished Museo Correr’s meticulous restoration of the Imperial apartments once occupied by Austrian Princess Sissi. At the Doge’s Palazzo, the empty courtyard echoed our steps as we viewed statues of the San Marco Lion, and of Neptune and Mars, symbols of Venetian control over land and sea. The interior salons made us gasp at spectacular paintings by Veronese, Tintoretto, Titian, and Tiepolo.

Wandering into a dim corridor, its stone walls chiseled with odd shaped windows that overlook the canal below and sea beyond, we realized we were inside the Bridge of Sighs. Built in 1614 to connect the palazzo to the prison, the name of enclosed bridge reflects the sighs of prisoners who stole a last glimpse of freedom before descending to cell or execution. Peeking out, I imagined the womanizing Casanova blowing kisses to weeping signore before succumbing to solitary confinement. Unlike the Latin lover, we were free as light, although Venice had captured our hearts.

Dear Readers: Since this cruise, the luxurious Spirit has joined the Windstar fleet of ships. Since the early days of this vessel, I've loved the intimate size and scope of it. Windstar has updated and maintained it in excellent style. I highly recommend it. 

Information:

Venice Tourism Board: www.Turismovenezia.it

Westin Europa and Regina Hotel: www.westineuropareginavenice.com