While most of Croatia's coastal towns seem tailormade for tourism, Split is real and vibrant. Lounging alongside the Adriatic Sea on the famed Dalmatian Coast, Split is Croatia's second largest city (after capital Zagreb), so that it is a bustling metropolis, serious port city, major transit hub, and top sightseeing destination, all rolled into one.
Split has all the trappings of a modern city. But a detailed look at the surviving fa?ade of the Roman palace fronting its harbour reveals its ancient roots. In the fourth century AD, when the Roman emperor Diocletian retired, he built a massive residence for his golden years in his native Dalmatia. When Rome fell, the palace was abandoned. Eventually, a medieval town sprouted from its abandoned shell.
And, even now, the maze of narrow alleys - literally Diocletian's hallways at some part - makes up the core of Split. Today's residents are actually living in a Roman emperor's palace.
Back its heyday, the harbour front was Diocletian's back door. There was no embankment in front of the palace, and so the water came right up to the threshold - sort of an emergency exit by boat.
Just inside this gate, visitors can explore a labyrinth of cellars that when supported the palace. Rediscovered only in the last century, the cellars enabled archeologists to derive the floor plan of some of the palace's long-gone upper sections.
Through the cellars, a grand underground hallway, now used like a shopping arcade, leads outside to the Peristyle (Split's main square) and Diocletian's vestibule, the dramatically domed entryway for the emperor's private rooms. These days, this grand space is often home to an all-male band of a cappella singers performing klapa - the quintessential Dalmatian folk music. These songs of seafaring life, of loves lost and loves found, stir the souls of Croatians and visitors alike.
Overlooking the Peristyle, Diocletian's mausoleum once dominated the centre with the palace complex. Much of the first Roman building survives, including the impressive dome, columns and capitals, and fine carved reliefs.
Diocletian was notorious for persecuting Christians. But 1,000 in years past, his mausoleum was converted into the Cathedral of St. Dominus. So, ironically, what Diocletian developed to glorify his memory is used to recollect his victims.
A few steps away is a temple dedicated to Jupiter. Roman emperors often made themselves gods. Diocletian was Jovius, son with the top god, Jupiter. People kissed his robe; he was being a deity on Earth. About the time the mausoleum was a cathedral, the temple was converted to a baptistery, housing a huge 12th-century baptismal font just right to immerse someone (as was the tradition in those times).
Just outside the Old Town can be a museum dedicated to Ivan Mestrovic, Croatia's answer to Rodin. Mestrovic's sculptures, which depict biblical, mythological, political and everyday themes, are everywhere in Croatia - within the streets, squares and museums.
The museum's highlights add the quietly poignant Roman Pieta, in which Mestrovic follows the classical pyramid form, with Joseph of Arimathea, Mary and Mary Magdalene around the limp body of Christ (also, he did a marble version of this for the campus of Notre Dame University in Indiana).
The sculpture Job - howling by having an agony verging on insanity - was carved through the artist in exile, as his country was turned inverted by the Second World War. Mestrovic sketched his inspiration with this piece while he was imprisoned by the Ustase, Croatia's Nazi puppet government.
After diving in the city's ancient and artistic past, I enjoy dipping into modern-day Split. Matejuska is certainly Split's working fishermen's harbour. While the area has brought a facelift, it still retains its striped-collar character.
The enclosed harbour area is loaded with working fishing boats and colourful dinghies that bob in unison. At the opposite end of town, the lively open-air Green Marketplace is where residents shop for produce and clothes.
The Marjan Peninsula, an enormous, hilly and relatively undeveloped spit of parkland, located right next to Split's Old Town, feels like a slice of wilderness, a stone's throw through the big city.
With out-of-the-way beaches and miles of hiking and biking trails, that's where residents go to relax.
At the conclusion of the day, a highlight for me is simply people-watching. The sea of Croatian humanity laps at the walls of Diocletian's Palace over the pedestrian promenade, or Riva. As on similar promenades throughout the Mediterranean world, cars make way for people. Strolling locals finish their days in good style here - just enjoying life's simple pleasures in the city that so seamlessly weaves its past and provides.