Croatia was about the last place on my bucket list. Until one winter evening when a fellow folk dancer of Croatian descent bragged convincingly about her ancestral country. "You absolutely have to go there," she insisted as we joined hands the end of long line of people at our Friday evening Greek dance center. "It is an unbelievably beautiful country with lots to see and the friendliest folks ever! But, of course, I am hopelessly biased," she admitted.

Her words lingered in my imagination. After 28 trips to Greece interspersed with a few European and Asian destinations, we were long overdue to branch out. "Let's have a good look," my husband suggested on a rainy February afternoon, a glitzy European tour book plopped open on our kitchen table. Their "Adriatic Adventure" itinerary immediately caught our attention. Croatia, an offspring of the former Yugoslavia with a rich and diverse heritage, is renowned for its storybook city of Dubrovnik, the jewel of the Dalmatian coast, not to mention dozens of pristine islands and the historic Istrian Peninsula to the north. Less famous but worthy of a visit is its intimate inland capital, Zagreb, a park-filled city boasting elegant Austro-Hungarian buildings, colorful markets, dozens of museums and a friendly native population.

Weeks later, with little advance preparation, we board a Lufthansa connecting flight heading south out of Frankfurt toward Zagreb, flying low over the rugged Dinaric Alps still flecked with late spring snow. "Hey, check out that view," I motion to my husband as we shadow the dramatic mountains, an extension of the Julian Alps and birthplace of Croatia's notorious Bura wind that often reaches hurricane force, bringing travel in the country to a total standstill. All at once, Zagreb comes into view, tucked between the Medvenica Mountains and the Sava River, the right tributary of the mighty Danube. "Wow, so much greenery," says my husband. "Zagreb is not an urban jungle! It's exactly what I had hoped for."
   

   
At the city's bustling airport, Jelena, our tour director, is waving a small flag to grab our attention. Apparently we are the last of the group to arrive. "Welcome to Croatia," she smiles warmly. "I hope your flight went smoothly," she purrs as we gather our luggage and follow her to our shuttle van. The afternoon traffic is light and we arrive at the city center in no time. "Our hotel is the historic Esplanade Zagreb," Jelena boasts. "It was put on the map when it became a major stop on the old Orient Express that shuttled Europe's rich and famous from Paris to Istanbul. You'll notice that we are just a few hundred yards away from the train station. The Esplanade was the design concept of Germany's Otto Rehnig, with modifications by Zagreb's famous architect, Diois Suno. The name Esplanade refers to a large field on which it was built."

We pause in front of the hotel entrance and survey the Belle Epoque property. "After its completion the Esplanade immediately became the number one place for social life in Zagreb" Jelena reveals. "During the 1920s it was also 'the rendezvous place' for secret lovers, quickly becoming a magnet for lavish parties for the Continent's rich and notorious. Unfortunately, during World War II it was taken over by the Gestapo during the brutal occupation of the city. It took many years to erase the Nazi stain," Jelena admits. "By the 1960s it became part of the Inter-Continental Hotels chain and a magnificent casino was added. It continues to rank as one of Europe's very best hotels and was once awarded a golden wreath by President Tito." "Can you tell us who stayed here during those years?" I ask Jelena. "Who hasn't stayed here!" she waves her arms for emphasis. "Everyone from Charles Lindberg, Laurence Olivier, Vivien Leigh, Richard Nixon, Khrushchev and Queen Elizabeth to Yves Montand, Mick Jagger and Maria Callas. The celebrity list is endless," she boasts. "This hotel has also appeared in many films and television shows."

"What a stellar introduction," I mutter as we check into our tastefully furnished room complete with a lavish marble bathroom. "You have a few hours to rest or to explore some of the surrounding downtown area," Jelena had explained in parting. "Our entire group will meet for an orientation at six o'clock, followed by a welcome dinner at Le Bistro, the hotel's main dining room." We decide to rest for a couple of hours, but after thirty minutes curiosity overtakes us and we venture out to explore. The Esplanade's public rooms and Art Deco furnishings are unabashedly elegant. Its Emerald Ballroom is enormous and I can easily envision the fabulous concerts and events that took place here. When Croatia became independent, it immediately exceeded the bounds of a socialist country by joining "The Leading Hotels of the World Group." According to our hotel booklet, it was the first place in the country to celebrate Valentine's Day, a holiday that swept the entire country thereafter. The Esplanade also became a mecca for international journalists and was a safe haven for refugees from the Balkan War that erupted after Croatia extracted itself from the old Yugoslavia. Posted in front of hotel's premier restaurant, Zinfandel, is a long list of award-winning Dalmatian Coast wines. "Wow, I sure hope we'll have an opportunity to visit an island winery," my husband remarks.
   

   
We take Davor's advice and head to the popular pedestrian-only street, paved over the stream that separates the upper and lower towns. Here one can find every kind of restaurant imaginable, interspersed with wine shops, boutiques and galleries. "What are you in the mood for?" asks my husband. "I sure would love to try one of Croatia's signature dishes," I respond. "OK, how about ?evapi," he suggests. "Exactly what I am in the mood for," I concur as we rush toward a crowded eatery with outdoor tables and a huge image of the local kebab. A mixture of beef and lamb generously seasoned with garlic and red pepper, it is grilled to order on an open fire and inserted into pita. The fragrance is tantalizing. We dive into our luscious lunch accompanied by chilled Ožujsko, a popular lager beer dating from 1872. "Man, that was really delicious," my husband sighs as we stagger back toward the upper town for some museum visits.

Dozens of Picasso posters dominate a little square in Gradec. Some 56 paintings and sculptures from the Picasso Museum in Paris, plus numerous drawings and prints, are on display here for a few months at Gallery Klovi?evi Dvori, the first time such a massive collection of the modernist's art has ever left France. A few years earlier, we spent several hours at the Picasso Museum in Paris, gawking over its magnificent paintings, drawings and sculptures. In this gallery, the entire exhibition revolves around a painting of Dora Maar, the Croatian muse and lover of Picasso. "I must say," I remark to my husband, "Anne Baldassari, the Picasso Museum's director, did an amazing job putting this together. I have gained a greater appreciation of Picasso's genius here in Zagreb than when we were in Paris." The gift shop is jam-packed with customers purchasing Picasso books, T-shirts and other memorabilia, but we have no trouble finding the perfect mementos for family and friends.

The museum of Zagreb's greatest artist, Ivan Meštrovi?, is our next stop. Primarily a sculptor and painter, he also dabbled in architecture and was a gifted writer. "Would you call Meštrovi? a Renaissance man?" I ask my husband and a friendly New England couple from our tour who met us in front of the entrance. Located on a quiet Gradec street not far from St. Mark's, the museum was his former family residence and studio. Meštrovi?'s immense talent gained immediate worldwide attention and in 1947 he was the first living artist ever to be exhibited at New York's Metropolitan Museum. Among the stunning pieces to be seen here is his "Zagreb Women in Agony," a massive bronze masterpiece. We tour through two stories of the house and its courtyard where the breadth of his work leaves us speechless. An English-speaking attendant is pleased that we appreciate his art. "He is represented at some of the best museums in the world," she boasts, "from Chicago, Belgrade and London, to Rome, Cannes and many more."
   

   
Back at the Esplanade, late afternoon tea is the perfect way to decompress, and the hotel's elegant outdoor terrace overlooking the city park is ideal for people-watching. "Where shall we go for dinner?" we ask Robert and Joanna, our newly-minted companions. "Jelena recommends Vinodol," says Robert. "It's a large downtown restaurant with an enormous menu, great service and even some music. We can easily walk there from the hotel." A couple of hours later, the four of us head out toward the restaurant to be warmly greeted by their English-speaking wait staff. "Have you noticed the English fluency level of many of the locals?" Robert comments. "They must begin language classes in grade school." We are led to a beautiful room with stone arches and presented with their very long menu. Vinodol does not disappoint. Their execution, presentation and refined service are impressive. "Yum! I will always remember their fish soup with root vegetables," says Robert as we head back to the hotel. "For me it was the baked sea bream and the luscious mocha mascarpone cake," I sigh, having totally forgotten my earlier resolve to eat more salads.

"Today is going to be extra special," Jelena brags as our group gathers in the Esplanade lobby bright and early for a long touring day. "We are going to visit Plitvice Lakes, Croatia's famous national park and a UNESCO World Heritage Center. "But before we head to Plitvice," she explains, "we will make a stop at Turanj, an area that was ravaged during the Balkan War for Independence. It was here that some of the heaviest shelling took place and an open air museum dedicated to the Croatian War of Independence has many poignant visuals from the war. We won't have time for anything more than a brief stop, but you will see abandoned tanks, old rockets, cannons and plenty of bullet holes in blackened farm buildings. It literally rained bullets here," Jelena admits. About an hour out of Zagreb, our bus approaches the war museum area. Just as described, the rusty tanks and rockets send chills down my spine. Skeletal farmhouse remains are riddled with bullet holes. Hardly a wall remains unscathed. "How those people must have suffered!" I blurt out loud. But the memorial is necessary, I realize. The world must not forget how hard it was for Croatia to maintain its identity.
   

   
Plitvice Lakes is one of Southern Europe's grandest natural sites. It is blessed with a unique microclimate and groundwater that is filled with algae and mosses. Water drains from nearby mountains over the stony terrain, mosses and algae, coating the floor of the lakes with a white chalky powder that creates mirror-like qualities, enabling the lakes to "reflect the sky into the water." The magical lakes are transformed as the hours pass and the weather changes, and as the mineral levels in the water shift. "We will be walking at a leisurely pace around a few of the lakes," Jelena explains as we all change into our most comfortable walking shoes.

"The park has 16 lakes and more than 90 waterfalls," Jelena continues. "Each time I come here, it's as if it's my very first time. The lakes are amazing, fluctuating from emerald green to deep blue and even pale grey. The key ingredient is always the calcium carbonate. Without it, the water would not change colors," she smiles. "According to one of our urban legends," Jelena continues, "Lake Proscansko is associated with the myth of the Black Queen who saved the region from a protracted draught by creating the lakes. Not far from here is the Great Waterfall which spills down a 78-meter cliff into a lower canyon," Jelena waves her arms upwards for emphasis. "In truth, there are so many amazing stories here. It would take days to share them all." We spend a couple of hours in the park area following a trail that takes us past several cascading waterfalls and ultimately ends with a boat ride on a lake that returns us to the parking area. "By the way," Jelena remarks as we board the bus, "did I already mention that the forests here shelter many animals, including dozens of brown bears?"
   

   
The bus heads back to Zagreb. After the long hike, all of us have worked up epic appetites and break into cheers as we pull up in front of a Michelin-rated downtown restaurant. "You will love Gallo," Jelena assures us. "It is one of Zagreb's finest restaurants, and it's famous for its house-made pasta and the freshest seafood ever!" So far so good. Gallo is furnished with well-chosen antique tables and chairs, vintage silverware and china, and many decorative accents. A huge display of hanging pasta and local produce is a knockout. "Everything on the menu is seasonal and also organic," Jelena explains. "And all our herbs and vegetables are grown a few minutes from here in a special garden," our waiter adds. We both wish you 'dobar tek' (bon appétit)!" Tonight's group menu lists two choices for each course. Ultimately, we can't pass up their linguini flecked with Istrian truffles, nor their tuna steak with polenta and red wine sauce. And for dessert, a semifreddo blended with tiramisu is the apotheosis of "la dolce vita."

"Dubrovnik here we come!!" I proclaim as we board a late evening flight to Croatia's storybook city. "Luckily, our notorious Bura wind is on good behavior tonight," Jelena informs the group. "We'll be departing right on time!"