Posted on Thursday, 5 October 2017

Passionate Game of Thrones fans Julianne and her husband Brian book a tour of some of the series locations in Dubrovnik. Sadly, unlike Julianne, not everyone on the tour has watched every episode.

As a lady in her golden years, I'm probably not a likely Game of Thrones fan – not in the ‘target demographic', as they say. But then again, nor is my Brian.

Brian was hooked first. I used to do my crocheting while it was on - but at some point, somewhere around season three, when it all got a bit messy after the Red Wedding, I realised I was getting very little crocheting done.

Our unlikely fandom was sure to have an effect on our holidays, sooner or later. After all, we're lucky enough to have several breaks a year – so we're always looking for new spots to visit.

Before we decided on Dubrovnik, we did some serious research on “G.o.T” locations. We discounted Iceland as it's too cold (those white walkers gave me the creeps anyway). And we'd already been to Essaouira in Morocco. The locations in Northern Ireland – although fantastic – didn't seem exotic enough for us. Plus, springtime was usually very mild in Dubrovnik, so our minds were soon made up.

Having flown into lovely Dubrovnik we checked into our Old Town hotel and joined our tour group – and Richard, our guide. Everyone else on the tour seemed to have arrived on one of those big cruise ships in the harbour and most seemed to be American or Canadian.

All of them seemed to be obsessive Game of Thrones fans – making our interest in the series seem rather tame.

They would say things like, "Oh my gawd Gerry, that's where Ned Staaark gat his head chaapped awf!"

They really were a rather boisterous lot, but a lot of fun.

Richard took us onto the ancient wall that surrounds the Old Town and led us to Minceta Tower.

"Crikey Brian," I said, "It really is just like the House of the Undead!"

"House of the Undying, love, House of the Undying".

As Richard explained, the bit where Daenerys tries to get into the tower was filmed here – one of the few scenes in which there “was no CGI”, whatever that is. It really was splendid!

Of course, as we discovered, there was actually an entrance to the tower – from below. Richard led us to the top. No “G.o.T” screens were filmed here, but we got some incredible views from the battlements!

As we moved along the old wall in the lovely spring sunshine, Richard pointed down to the sea below.

"That's Blackberry Bay" I shrieked.

All the Americans turned and looked at me like I had two heads!

"Blackwater Bay, dear," said Brian, quietly.

A loud American added: "Where Stannis Baratheon's army got wiped out by wildfire! Waaweee."

Later we made our way down to street level and found Dominka Street, which doubled as Flea Bottom in the series. It was a lot cleaner than the messy slums that Tyrion and Bronn explored on the telly, but still wonderful to see.

Next up was Pile Gate, the entrance to the Old Town, which doubled as Mud Gate in the series. It was here, Richard reminded us, where the mob attacked King Joffrey. He really was a naughty young man.

"Shame he didn't die for another three seasons!" I shouted.

A man from Minnesota turned to us and said, sternly, "Do you mind madam, my wife and I are only on season two."

A little later Richard took us all down to the water: "Blackberry Bay" Richard joked, with a knowing wink. Oh silly me. But it was wonderful to see where so many sneaky conversations took place.

Richard recommended we take a boat trip around Dubrovnik, something we vowed we would do the next day.

After a lot of huffing and puffing we eventually reached our next location – Lovrijenac Fort, high above Blackwater Bay.

"Oh Brian, this is where Joffrey had his birthday party!”

The Minnesotan gave us a sharp look.

Brian whispered, "Name day, love, name day."

One of the last places Richard took us was Gradac Park.

"Well, what's this meant to be?" I asked our lovely guide.

He said something in a quiet voice, looking around sheepishly.

"You what? What's it meant to be?"

Richard repeated himself again, in the same low voice.

"You what? It looks nothing like The Purple Wedding! Well where did Joffrey get poisoned then?!"

Richard and Brian closed their eyes in unison, shaking their heads sadly.

The Minnesotan went bright pink with fury, then stormed off with his equally irate wife.

"Oh dear, Brian, silly me. I can't keep my mouth shut.”

A cautious silence descended on the group as we watched the Minnesotans disappear down the cobbled path.

“That American was awfully pink,” I said, “He looked a bit like Joffrey after he got poisoned, didn't he?"

"Yes dear, I suppose he did."

The rest of the group murmured appreciatively at my insightful observation – or at least I think they did.

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