I am categorically not a beach person. I don’t go on beach holidays. I don’t sunbathe. I don’t really swim in the sea (unless I’m trying to learn not to hate it sufficiently to become a kayaking instructor). On the water, yes. I like a paddle and I love a short boat trip. But you’re not going to find me heading to the beach otherwise.
Except when I was in Dubrovnik, I took a 45-minute bus and walked 800m through a holiday complex to get to a beach that looks like it’s halfway to becoming a beach club expressly to swim in the beautiful waters of the Adriatic.
Having done my three island sea kayaking tour on Saturday, I’d discovered how clear and clean and bright teal- turquoise the water is around Dubrovnik. It was hot in the city and I found myself wanting to cool down by going back into that water. I’m in the Med! It’s entirely normal to go to the beach! But it’s not for me. Luckily, being a polar bear who wilts in the sun isn’t as deeply ingrained in me as the existence of this blog might suggest. Yes, I did wonder many times what I’m doing in Croatia when I should be in Iceland or Finland but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to put on a flowery mini dress and google an accessible but not too busy beach.
You’re kind of spoiled for choice. Dubrovnik is on a kind of double peninsula which means a lot of coast. If you’re after golden sand you’ve got to take the ferry out to Lopud. I considered it but the timetable on a Tuesday in May meant it just wasn’t worth it. Back on the mainland it’s all gravel, which at least means not dragging sand through your clothes when you get dressed. The big beach is the one on the other side of the Old Town… but that looked like the sort of tourist hellscape I was hoping to avoid. The little one by Pile Gate had been quiet enough but you’d have all the tourist eyes on you from above. Where could I get to by bus? I don’t know what my original plan was because the decision to get on the bus to Babin Kuk, almost directly opposite the port area where I was staying, was made somewhere between arriving at the bus stop and getting off the bus at the terminus. I think my plan had been somewhere around Uvala Lapad Beach but the bus didn’t go as close to there as I thought. And so I came to the end of the line at the Valamar Collection, which seems to be a complex of hotels and holiday village on the west side of the peninsula.
Where is a beach? There was a sign and it pointed to Copacabana Beach. My landlady had suggested this one on that first night, when I arrived at 11pm, and probably told me how to get there. It was 11pm; I’d forgotten the details. No buses look like they go near it so I’d written it off. Now here it was! OK, it was a 700m, maybe 800m, trek in searing heat through the complex and down a hill but there it was!
Now, what to do with my stuff while I’m in the water? Towel and clothes are probably safe but I was reluctant to leave my keys, wallet, phone and camera out of reach. To be fair, I suspect they’d have been safe enough just left on shore but I don’t want to do that. I had a drybag for carrying wet swimming stuff home. I had a second smaller drybag just in case. I had a fold-up backpack that fits inside my easyJet approved bag. So I put all the electronics in the smaller bag, rolled up my backpack and put everything in the bigger drybag and then I took it into the Adriatic with me.
It was heavy while I was picking my way across the rocks in the shallows but once it was deep enough, the bag floated! Not just floated but floated enough to take most of my weight. I strayed out far enough to not be able to feel the bottom several times. I can swim. I try to swim a mile twice a week in summer. I’ve been able to swim longer than I’ve been able to walk. While I was swimming I was fine but once I noticed I could neither feel nor see the bottom, I panicked and had to paddle back in. The trick is to not notice. Having a float came in handy then. In hindsight, maybe I should have brought a tether for it because I did mostly need to keep hold of it, which was fine while I was using it as a float but you want to have both hands free occasionally.
Let’s talk a bit about Copacabana Beach – or Kopakabana as I saw it on one map, evidently trying to make it sound a bit less out of place on the Croatian coast. It’s a fairly small gravelly beach on the eastern side of the end of the Lapad peninsula, a dish-shaped bay bounded to the east by a concrete jetty and roped-off from the open sea so people can swim without fear of jetskis or powerboats or, indeed, ferries. It’s almost opposite the bridge separating Gruž from the open countryside and if you swim past the jetty, you can get a good look at any cruise ships that might be in port. I’d taken a bus and then walked for fifteen minutes to see exactly what I could see from my own terrace, albeit from the opposite quarter. They could really do with a ferry over from Gruž.
At the right-hand side of Copacabana Beach as you walk down the hill, there was a snack van and some seating under a net shaded area, with music from my teenage years playing. That’s where I went. To the left, there was what I took for a stone barn converted into a cafe, sunshades, sunbeds and palm trees and louder club-style music. Generally, you could only hear the music from your side but it mingled if you paddled too far across the bay. Of course, it also faded out if you went deep enough to lose the bottom. I’m a grumpy old lady about music in public – I suppose you have to allow it at beach clubs – but it wasn’t loud enough even on shore to annoy me.
Now. I’d carefully put suncream on while I waited for the bus but once I was in the water, I realised I’d only done the bits left uncovered by my dress. My swimsuit left my shoulders and half my back uncovered and unprotected and although I got out to reapply, I knew I hadn’t covered my back well enough. No, I didn’t burn. But I did find myself sitting in the shallows with my back to the view more than I would like because it kept my unsuncreamed back out of direct sun. Hazard of solo travel that I don’t have to worry about too much in Iceland! I was going to say “How often am I out in a swimsuit in Iceland?!” but… geothermal pools. More often than anywhere else. But it’s generally not sunny enough to worry about every last square inch of skin! Yes, I put it on my arms and neck and face but you wash it off in the mandatory naked showers anyway. But in the Med, I wasn’t messing around any more than I could help with the suncream. That stuff is going on every morning and then it’s going in my bag and coming with me. Factor 50, if you’re interested. I’m a bit transparent in places, anything less is going to be a waste of time.
Eventually my paranoia over the sun, the wearing off of the novelty of the sea and the thunder over Gruž opposite lured me out of the water. I learned how hard it is to get dressed on a beach when you don’t have your two-beach-towels-sewn-together changing robe and I walked back to find I’d missed the hourly bus by, apparently, seconds. Do I sit here in the sun for an hour? Do I take two buses for double the price via Pile Gate? Those go every ten minutes. No! I mean, yes, I get on that bus and I get off at the top of the port, where the bus turns right for Pile and I turn left for Gruž. The nearest bus stop that I’d have otherwise got off at is only a couple of hundred metres away from there. And so that’s what I did. Walked the last quarter of the distance.
If you’re after a relatively quiet beach near Dubrovnik, Copacabana will probably do you nicely, as long as you’re willing to bus and walk a bit. Just wish I’d taken my snorkel.