Franciscan Friary, Dubrovnik

Stand still for a moment just inside the Pile Gate. The limestone underfoot is smooth, polished by centuries of shoes until it shines like wet marble. To your left, at the very start of the Stradun, the main street of the old town, a plain stone wall rises with a tall bell tower above it. Behind that wall, the noise of the street drops away almost at once. This is the Franciscan Friary, home to the Friars Minor, and one of the oldest working religious houses in the city.

The friars did not always live here. Their first community stood outside the city walls, in the open land beyond the gate. Outside the walls, a monastery was exposed to raiders and to war. So in the fourteenth century the friars moved inside, and the city gave them this corner beside the western entrance. It was a practical choice. The friary became part of the defensive line, with its back pressed against the walls that still wrap around the old town.

Before you go in, look at the south side of the church, facing the Stradun. Above the doorway sits a carved Pietà — the grieving Mother of Christ holding the body of her son. It is usually attributed to the local stone carvers Leonard and Petar Andrijić, from the late fifteenth century. The portal is one of the few parts of the church that survived a terrible disaster in 1667. We will come back to that disaster shortly, because it shaped almost everything you see here.

Now, a small surprise right by your feet. Near the church entrance, low on the wall, a little stone head sticks out from the facade. Locals say that if you can climb onto it, face the wall, and pull your shirt over your head without falling, you will have good luck — some say luck in love. It looks easy. It is not. Watch for a few minutes and you will probably see someone try, wobble, and laugh as they slide off.

Inside, the heart of the friary is the cloister. It is a square garden enclosed by covered walkways, and it dates from the fourteenth century. The style mixes Romanesque and Gothic. Romanesque means the older, heavier medieval style of round arches. Gothic means the later style of pointed arches and lighter stone. Here the two meet in rows of slender double columns, standing in pairs, carrying low arches around the garden. The walkways stay cool even in the August heat.

Take your time with the column tops, the capitals. Each one is carved differently. You will find human faces, animals, and twisting plants, all cut from pale local stone. Some faces look serious, others almost comic. The medieval carvers did not repeat themselves. Walk the full square slowly and try to find two capitals that match. Most visitors walk past them in under a minute. They are the real treasure of the cloister.

In the middle of the garden, there is greenery and a stone well-head, with plants and small trees growing around it. Listen here. You may hear the bells of the tower above, swallows overhead, and the low murmur of the street outside. On the walls of the walkways are painted scenes in the arched spaces, added much later than the stone itself. They show moments from the life of Saint Francis of Assisi, the founder of the order, who gave up wealth to live among the poor.

Now for the detail that surprises nearly everyone. In a corner of the cloister there is a pharmacy. It was founded in 1317, and it has worked, in one form or another, ever since. That makes it one of the oldest working pharmacies in Europe. For centuries the friars prepared medicines here from herbs and minerals. They treated the sick of the city, and the pharmacy served the public, not only the brothers. Today it still sells creams and lotions, some made to old house recipes.

Beside the pharmacy, a small museum shows how that work was done. Look for the old ceramic jars, the heavy mortars for grinding ingredients, glass vessels, and handwritten books of remedies. The friary also holds a large library, with old manuscripts and early printed books. Much of it is not on open display. But the idea is worth holding in mind: behind these quiet walls, the friars kept both the medicine and the written knowledge of a trading republic.

Now, that disaster. In 1667 a great earthquake struck Dubrovnik. Much of the city collapsed, and fire spread through the ruins. The friary church was badly destroyed. When it was rebuilt, the builders used the Baroque style of the time — a more decorated style, with rich altars and dramatic interiors. That is why the church feels younger than the cloister beside it. You are standing between two ages: medieval stone outside, seventeenth-century rebuilding within.

The friary has lived through modern war, too. During the siege of Dubrovnik in 1991 and 1992, shells struck the old town, and this complex was hit. The damage has since been repaired, but in places you can still notice patched stone and marks on the walls. Ask yourself as you walk which surfaces look newer and cleaner than their neighbours. Repair in Dubrovnik is careful, so the signs are quiet. They are there for those who look.

When you step back out onto the Stradun, turn and look across the little square. There stands a large, round, domed fountain with carved stone faces pouring water. It is the Great Onofrio Fountain, part of the city's medieval water system. People still fill bottles there. The friary and the fountain together frame the entrance to the old town. For a medieval traveller, they meant the same thing: water, medicine, shelter.

So pause for a moment before you join the crowd. Feel the polished stone under your feet again. Hear the bells above the friary wall. Behind you are the double columns, the carved faces, and a pharmacy that has served this city for more than seven centuries. Ahead of you, the long, bright street runs east toward the harbour. As you walk, glance back once at the bell tower. It has watched over this gate through earthquake, siege, and the daily rush of visitors... and it is still here.