Global Bars, Part 2 – Buza (I and II)
‘NO Topless, NO Nudist’ says the graffiti, fading but still visibly painted on the back wall of a tightly-curving passage. It seems as if it is there to deter the boys playing kickabout in the small square from craning their necks to the corner to have a peep. But they know there’s nothing interesting to be seen – the rocky outcrop underneath and beyond the town walls may once have sported the topless and/or the nudist, but today it hosts merely a few tables and chairs, and a mobile bar. It points to Buza, one of two identically-named drinking spots that perch on the outer banks of the walled city of Dubrovnik.
Despite their precarious appearance, both (known as Buza I and Buza II) are fixtures of the tourist trail – they feature in the guidebooks, and even the shortest of conversations on where to go for a drink in Dubrovnik inevitably leads to their mention. However, despite their popularity, they can be pretty hard to find, although this undoubtedly bolsters their appeal as hidden secrets. What boosts that even more is that they are clearly visible from the walking trail along the top of the city walls – something that all visitors do, even in part. It becomes an enormous 3-D puzzle; you can see them from the walls, but how do you get to them from ground-level?
Buza is apparently Croatian for ‘hole in the wall’ – I don’t know if that’s actually true, or not, but it certainly sums up how you get to either of them. Look for the gap, and go for it. One Buza is more formal than the other; Buza II being the grown-up, more serene sister, with tiered layers of concrete supporting the tables and chairs, and waited table service. It feels like an extension of a cruise ship, couples scraping their seats to the edges of the railings, to get a better view of the sunset, sinking frustratingly just round the corner out of sight.
As it lowers ever further, there’s a sudden rush to the railings, and cameras are held off to the right, at arm’s length. Predictably, everyone’s outstretched Nikons end up in each others’ shots, the individual desire for a perfect sunset photo rendering the collective exercise futile – at least from the raised vantage point, halfway up the cliff. The more adventurous have climbed down the staggered flight of stone steps all the way to the bottom, to try and snatch the moment. It gives the best opportunity, but means a calf-straining climb back up to whichever tier was yours afterwards.
Once you’ve been to one, you felt compelled to visit the other, to determine which was the better. Buza I was my favourite – feeling more relaxed, more organic. There are fewer seats and parasols here, but seating opportunities exist on the flatter rocks, and the concrete plinths the Croatians love to build near water. Eagle-eyes are needed to trade up to actual seats. The sea is more immediate here; people swim around in the deep water, before hopping back up for a beer. If Buza II is a cruise, Buza I is a beach bar – an image fostered by the plastic cups and temporary-looking feel.
Ožujsko and Karlovačko are the order of the day here; Croatian blonde lagers that are designed to be drunk in the sun, without too much thought. For the occasion, they are perfect, and can even be mixed with the local sharp lemon juice to form an impromptu radler, for the swimmers. Mind you, the divers seem to have had more than a few already – to the right of Buza I, under the sheer walls of a bastion, men launch themselves from on high, plunging in a bluster of Australian expletives. People watch from the bar, and from the walls above, getting maybe their first sight of Buza, and starting that mental puzzle. How do you get there from ground-level…?
