On Hera, my gaze moves from Mike to a small, unpopulated island about 200 meters away that keeps winking at me. Unable to resist any longer, I jump into the Adriatic for the first time in my life, swim to the island, and clamber up sharp coral and rocks that lead to a lush carpet of pine needles covering a narrow trail. Looking back toward the boat, I see Mike bobbing in the water, and the rest of the Company in various states of repose. Hera looked regal floating proudly on a brilliantly azure sea.

Besides being sunny, Hvar is a very popular and chic place. Notables and wannabes from everywhere watch each other from one of many outdoor cafes that surround a large town square. Like most of seaside Croatia, this town has its old stuff – Gothic palaces and traffic-free marble streets lie beautifully ornamented within 13^th-century medieval walls.

We wander about and I traverse a path up a hill to see an old walled fort that protected Hvar from pirates, Turks, and various other villains. The view is spectacular. Islands that gracefully sit up tall and thick help ease the sea’s penchant to mesmerize. Red tiled roofs carpet the tops of thick white limestone walls. A soft silence is spread everywhere, and is revered even by the sea birds.