Mount Srd

I wanted to go to the top of Mount Srd because I felt sorry for it. I mean, really. A mountain, and not a particularly tall one at that, with no vowels. How can it hold its summit up high among the other mountains when it is so deprived? Come to think of it, maybe that’s why it’s not very tall. It can’t hold its summit up high.

Seriously. Mount Everest has three vowels. True, they’re all e. It could benefit from a little variety. But at least it has a comfortable complement of vowels.

Mount Etna has only two vowels, but they are two different vowels. And they begin and end the name, the two most prized positions.

Then there is Mount Kilimanjaro. It has five vowels, three different ones and a couple of traders. If it were a more generous mountain it would donate one or two to Mount Srd. But, no. Selfish bastard!

Poor Mount Srd. I thought about taking up a collection to buy it a vowel, but people just don’t care these days, do they? What’s a poor, deprived mountain to do?

Oh, and there’s a funny “d” in the name. I couldn’t find any way to type it. So, except for this one instance, you won’t see it here, or on most of the sites I found on the web. I had to cut and paste it from one of the very few sites that produces it correctly so I could show it to you here: Mount Srđ.

I only hope your browser can display it with the crossbar on the vertical line of the d. Well, at least that’s a distinctive flair to make up for the lack of vowels.

I feel kind of guilty about not using this distinguished feature of Mount Srd’s name throughout. But, in my weak defence, based on that aforementioned web search, I seem to be very much in the majority in that regard.

Mount Srd Summit

I went to the top of Mount Srd. No, I didn’t walk up. I took the cable car (like a ski lift gondola, but no skiing) that goes to the summit for €23 return.

The views from up top are spectacular. The fact that it was a clear day helped with that. So far, the weather gods have been very good to me on this trip. Yay. So far.

From different vantage points, I saw Dubrovnik, old and new; a large, mostly forested, nearby island; some more-distant islands; and the mountain range on the other side of Mount Srd from Dubrovnik.

A road and some paths run along the length of Mount Srd’s ridge. It’s not a long ridge. You could probably walk the length leisurely in five minutes if you don’t stop to take in the sights along the way.

The tour book I use on this trip said the top of Mount Srd was heavily mined during the war, but the mines have long since been cleared. However, the book warns that locals say you should stay on the paths in case they missed any mines.

That message does not in any way bear repeating. That is to say, it doesn’t bear repeating to me. However, people who are less neurotic and cowardly than I am might benefit from the reinforcement of that warning.

Fort Imperial

When he stopped by to rule over people in Dubrovnik, Napoleon built a fortress atop Mount Srd. That little guy got around, didn’t he? I don’t know. If I were him, I think I would have satisfied myself with sitting in a restaurant by the Seine, sipping champagne, and eating fine French food rather than risking life and limb to conquer other lands and people. But, no. Not him. He had to go a-conquering.

During the war in Croatia in 1991 and 1992, the Dubrovnik Defenders used the fort and the broader mountaintop as key defensive positions. As a result, it took heavy shelling from the attackers.

The fort was damaged, but it’s since been mostly repaired.

Today, the fortress houses the Homeland War Museum, which tells the story of the war and the defence of Croatia against Serbian and Montenegrin forces.

The museum’s text speaks of the bravery and sacrifice of the Croatian forces and the brutality, yet cowardice of the Serbian and Montenegrin aggressors. The text did not offer any shades of grey on that.

I remember reading and watching news reports of the war on mainstream media from my distant perch in Canada at the time. But I forget pretty well all of the details.

And because I didn’t have any personal attachment to any part of what was then Yugoslavia, and because I am not now and never have been a student of geopolitics, I didn’t research the origins and conduct of the war further.

I’m not proud of my ignorance. But in my defence, a lot of major terrible events and a lot of major wonderful events have occurred in my lifetime and the millennia before. I can’t know about them all. Yes, you’re right. I should know a lot more than I do, but I don’t.

I mention this to say that I have no idea if the extreme one-sidedness is warranted. In most situations, it’s not.

But sometimes it is.

For example, when reporters cover an unprovoked, brutal, cold-blooded murder they don’t have to treat the murderer and victim equally just to achieve a journalistic balance.

I’m not saying that analogy works for the war in Croatia. I’m saying I don’t know. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t.

But let’s move on.

Changing the subject completely, a video screen in the museum played a long British news program from the time it happened. If the reporter pronounced it correctly, “Srd” is pronounced like “surge.”

Up on the roof

A stairway in the museum leads to the roof of the fortress. I got a few of the above-mentioned spectacular views from up there.

A couple of portions of the low stone wall that surrounds the roof have some ragged openings in it. I’m not sure, but I think the bombardment of the fort was responsible for those gaps in the wall. Wood beams protect the openings. Fall hazard warnings are attached to the beams. There’s another thing you don’t have to tell me twice.

Lunch

I had a leisurely tuna salad, wine, and espresso lunch on a deck at the Panorama Restaurant at the top of the mountain. Panorama is both its name and an accurate description of the views from it.

It is a sister establishment of the restaurant beside the old port that I mentioned having lunch at in a previous post. When I was at the other restaurant they gave me a coupon for ten percent off at Panorama. So how could I not go?

I’m kidding about the “how could I not go” part. Sort of. But lunch was great.

This concludes the journal entry of my morning activities. Hopefully, I’ll have another post about my afternoon soon.