The small town of Mostar in Bosnia-Hercegovina was a symbol of the horror of the wars that marked the collapse of Yugoslavia. Like Sarajevo, Mostar had shown how different cultures and races could live together. But in the years after 1990, that tradition was cruelly destroyed. Thousands had their lives ruined – if not snuffed out – when Serbs, Croats and Muslims went to war.

Mostar was famous for its old bridge over the Neretva river, built by the Turks in the 16th century. In 1993, the bridge was shelled into oblivion by Croatian tanks but the structure has been rebuilt under Unesco’s direction and reopened in 2004.

Elsewhere in the town, the scars of war are far more obvious than in Dubrovnik in neighbouring Croatia. Residential tower blocks stand ruined, while the shells of once elegant early 20th century buildings in the town centre are guarded by ‘keep out – danger’ signs. The local economy is not strong enough to allow a rapid recovery from the disasters of 1991-95 – another contrast with the Croatian coastal resorts.

On our brief visit, we got the impression that many people still prefer to avoid the painful truth of the war years. The Croatian guide who took us to Mostar described how the Muslims and Croats were allies in the fight against the Serbs in Bosnia-Hercegovina – completely ignoring the Croats’ role in the destruction of Mostar. More innocently, the young Mostar lad who showed us round his town and described the old bridge with such pride failed to mention that it was not the original.

After the tragedy of the 199 0s, it’s hardly surprising that the people of the former Yugoslavia find it difficult to confront reality.

‘The siege of Dubrovnik’: it sounds like a page from a history of the middle ages. Yet this traumatic event ended just 14 years ago – an era when Europe was planning its single currency, John Major won a surprise election victory and Bill Clinton was elected US president.

Walking the streets of the old walled city today, there are very few reminders of the siege. But when you look more closely, you notice a few tell-tale scars: the vibrant coloured new roofs, the shrapnel holes and the patches on the town walls. Out of town lie the ruins of abandoned hotels shelled by the Serbs, which are being brought back to life.

Back in 1991, the world watched in horror as the Serbs attacked Dubrovnik. Many had spent holidays in the Dalmatian town and could not believe what they were seeing. For some, it must have evoked memories of 1940, when holiday towns on the French coast became a war zone and Dunkirk became a symbol of war rather than a holiday port. Happily, peace has returned to Croatia and the scars of the 1990s are fading. 

Blue sky holiday? We should have chosen sun-drenched Britain. Croatia proved wet. But we’re glad we went. We learned a lot about the country and its recent agonies. We loved the people, who welcome tourists with open arms. And the scenery in and around Dubrovnik is stunning. We will return – but we’ll pack a brolly and a fleece next time.

In the words of Daniel Powter, I need a blue sky holiday.

The good news is that we’ll be flying off for just that on Sunday. So this may be the last entry for a while.

Here’s to Croatia.

Venice is firmly established in our culture.

One of the world’s great cities. Part of our language, thanks to Shakespeare. And now a favourite city break destination with the arrival of cheap airfares.

San Marco’s piazza makes the M25 at rush hour seem bucolic. But the magic of Venice is that you can escape the crowds in minutes. Within the shadow of San Marco’s campanile lie deserted alleyways, bridges and quays. The joy of this city is exploring. You will get utterly lost. But you will stumble across sights that most visitors never see.

Venice also reminds you that world power is a fragile flower. Back in the 16th century, Venice was a mighty force on the world stage. Its Arsenal could build a warship in 24 hours. But within 150 years, Venice’s place in the sun had gone. Napoleon conquered the island city, giving it to his Austrian allies. More recently, the city has lost almost two-thirds of its population since 1945. It now lives on the tourist trade.

Is there a lesson there for George W Bush’s America? 

Would you travel 250 miles for dinner?

We would! Not every week, and only for something special.

But we found that something special in 2001. A hotel called Barclay House in Looe, Cornwall. Just four hours’ drive from south east England. Dinner for just £30. Service to die for. The beauty of England’s far west. Why wouldn’t you?

A month ago, we discovered that Barclay House was about to stop doing dinner. No more relaxing candle-lit meals, savouring the sunset view across the east Looe river. But it was for the best of reasons: as a family hotel, Nick and Kelli wanted to spend more time with their children. What better reason could there be?

We booked for one last weekend visit, and relished Nick’s signature dish, cod and bubble and squeek, followed by the best fish in Britain. Something special.

We’ll return to enjoy lunch and the Barclays’ superb personal touch. But dinner? It was special!

See www.barclayhouse.co.uk