Dubrovnik CoolTours By Ivana

17/08/2026

Il tour "Storia con un pizzico di ironia!" si terrà in italiano il 3 settembre. Gli ultimi posti si stanno esaurendo. Benvenuti!

17/08/2026

Join us on Friday!

Think history is boring? Not here. Discover Dubrovnik through stories and humor. This isn’t a lecture—it’s a story you’ll remember. Tours are in English; contact me for other languages.

22/05/2026

Island of Hvar....

Lavender fields, fishing boats, endless sunshine, local wine, fresh fish, tiny stone towns and a life philosophy called “pomalo.” 🌿☀️🍷🌊

Hvar Island really said: relax… but dramatically.

Save this for your future Adriatic escape. 🇭🇷

22/05/2026

POV: you came to Hvar “just for a day”… and now you’re emotionally attached to the Adriatic. 🌊☀️

Save this for your next summer escape.
Share with someone who would disappear to Hvar immediately.
And tell me in the comments: black risotto, buzara or carpaccio? 👀

21/05/2026

I swear, if I had gone to school in the center of Trogir, I would have learned absolutely nothing. 😂

Picture this:

Last week of school. Mid-June. The classroom is boiling.
Teacher standing in front of the blackboard like she still believes any of us are mentally present.

“Open page 67. We’ll practice fractions. Exercise number 4, please.”

Meanwhile, inside my head:

The sea is calling me.
Why am I sitting here?
People are literally swimming right now.
This is a waste of perfectly good sunshine.

And then — the bell rings for the big break.

Pure chaos.

Not walking.
Not behaving.
No civilized “let’s go get a snack.”

No.

An entire classroom of little Dalmatian gremlins sprinting out of school like Olympic athletes possessed by summer itself.

Forget lunch.
Forget homework.
Forget dignity.

The only thing we carried with us was a towel.

Straight into the sea.

Teachers running after us screaming:

“You can’t come back soaking wet!”
“Get out of the water immediately!”
“You have to change and return to class!”

Meanwhile we’re in the sea like tiny happy sea pigs: jumping, diving, pretending to drown each other, doing underwater competitions, living our absolute best lives during a 20-minute school break. 😂

And somehow after all that, we were expected to put on dry clothes and sit calmly back in class like civilized children.

Honestly, those were my favorite school memories.

Our school wasn’t even this beautiful, and it definitely didn’t have a luxury yacht view like this one in Trogir.

But it was close enough to the sea that in 20 minutes we could run there, jump in, swim, dry off badly, and still make it back before the next class.

Peak Mediterranean childhood. 🌊☀️😂

If you grew up near the Mediterranean, this probably unlocked a memory you forgot you had. 🌊

Share it with someone who used to disappear into the sea every school break. 😂

18/05/2026

Kids in Trogir, Croatia go to elementary school here.

Meanwhile the rest of us had concrete buildings and emotional damage. 😂

# #

17/05/2026

I walked into a café today expecting the usual scene: everyone staring silently into their phones.

Instead, I found a couple of teenage girls loudly playing treseta. 🃏☕😂

Arguing. Laughing. Accusing each other of cheating. Pure chaos.

And for a second, I swear I got thrown straight back into 1998.

Before algorithms.
Before doomscrolling.
And before every quiet moment had to be filled with a screen.

Just cards on a marble table, summer slowly arriving, and people actually looking at each other while talking.

Maybe that’s why it hit me so hard.

Because for a moment, it felt like the Mediterranean I grew up in still exists somewhere. 🌊

Have you ever played this game? Tell me in comments 😉
Or do you want to learn? I'ill teach you 😉

16/05/2026

“Male peacocks on Lokrum only have two modes:
1% inner peace
99% ‘have you seen my feathers yet?’” 🦚😂

14/05/2026

Dubrovnik: overstimulation.
Lokrum: emotional support island. 🌿🦚

Who else escapes to Lokrum when the city gets too loud?

11/05/2026

There are cities that feel loudest in the middle of the day.

And then there are those that reveal their true soul only at dusk.

For me, Split is exactly that kind of city.
When the lights slowly begin to glow along the waterfront, the sea grows quiet, and Matejuška drifts into the calm of the evening… the city becomes more than stone, palm trees, and postcards. It becomes a feeling.

Maybe that is why the story of Roko and Cicibela still lives here today.
Two poor souls who had almost nothing except each other, yet became one of Split’s greatest legends. Their love was simple, stubborn, and real — just like the sea they lived beside.

As night slowly puts Split to sleep, it becomes easy to understand why stories like this were born on these stone steps, among small boats and the scent of salt in the air.

Because every city carries a different emotion.
But at dusk… some cities begin to speak. ✨
__________________________

Postoje gradovi koji su najglasniji usred dana.
A postoje i oni koji svoju pravu dušu pokažu tek u suton.

Split je za mene upravo takav.
Kad se svjetla polako upale uz rivu, more utihne, a Matejuška počne tonuti u večernji mir… grad više nije samo kamen, palma i razglednica. Postane osjećaj.

Možda baš zato priča o Roku i Cicibeli i danas živi upravo ovdje.
Dvoje siromašnih ljudi koji nisu imali gotovo ništa osim jedno drugoga, a ipak su postali jedna od najvećih splitskih legendi. Njihova ljubav bila je jednostavna, tvrdoglava i stvarna — baš poput mora uz koje su živjeli.

Dok noć polako spušta Split na počinak, lako je razumjeti zašto su ovakve priče nastajale upravo na ovim skalinama, uz barke i miris soli.

Jer svaki grad ima svoju emociju.
Ali u suton… neki gradovi počnu pričati. ✨