St. Michael's Fortress

Where it sits. St Michael's Fortress crowns a rock about seventy metres directly above the old town of Šibenik, close enough to the harbour that a visitor on the ramparts can watch a ferry berth below. Its walls follow the shape of the crag in an irregular polygon, which is why the interior is a lopsided space rather than a parade ground. The view from the parapet is the reason most people climb: the roofs of the old town falling away in overlapping planes, the cathedral dome below, the long narrow St Anthony Channel that connects Šibenik's bay to the open sea, and beyond it the low scattered islands of the Šibenik archipelago. It is also called St Anne's Fortress, after the hill and the cemetery on its northern flank.

The oldest structure in the oldest Croatian town. Something has been fortified on this rock since before Šibenik was first written down in 1066, when King Petar Krešimir IV issued a charter from the town. The medieval castle here gave the settlement its early name and its reason for existing; the present walls are largely fifteenth- and sixteenth-century, rebuilt under Venetian rule as artillery made the older lines useless. Šibenik ended up with four fortresses in all — this one, St John's on the higher hill behind, the Barone fort to the northeast, and St Nicholas guarding the sea channel — a density that reflects a century of Ottoman pressure from the hinterland. St Michael's history ends abruptly: in 1663 lightning struck the powder magazine, the explosion tore out part of the fortress and killed people in the streets below, and the site was never restored to full military use.

On screen. The stepped lanes climbing from the cathedral toward this fortress were used as Braavos in the fifth season of Game of Thrones, dressed for the sequences in which Arya Stark moves through the free city. The appeal for the production was straightforward: Šibenik's old town is a warren of narrow stone stairways with almost no visible modern surface, and a short stretch can be closed off and dressed convincingly for a fraction of what the equivalent would cost in Dubrovnik. The nearby cathedral supplied the Iron Bank interior in the same season. What Šibenik did not supply is the waterborne Braavos of the wide shots: the canals, the Titan and the harbour were digital or shot on a water stage, and no gondola ever passed under these walls.

What you actually see today. Between 2012 and 2014 the fortress was rebuilt as a permanent open-air stage, with tiered seating for around a thousand people set into the shell of the old enclosure and modern circulation threaded through the historic walls. It works far better than that description suggests — the seating is discreet, the stone dominates, and the sea forms the backdrop to the stage. Out of concert hours the fortress is an ordinary paying visit: ramparts to walk, a small exhibition on the town's fortifications, a café, and a view that repays a long sit. During the summer season the venue hosts concerts several nights a week, and holding a ticket is the only way to be up here after dark.

The climb, and what is on the way. There is no road to the gate. The approach is on foot from the cathedral square, up a sequence of stepped lanes that takes ten to fifteen minutes at a steady pace — Šibenik locals reckon their town in stairs rather than streets. On the way, the small square of the Four Wells holds four wellheads over a cistern completed in 1451, dug to secure the town's water during a siege; the medieval Mediterranean garden of St Lawrence's monastery, restored in 2007 to a period planting scheme, is a short detour and a good place to sit in shade.

Getting there and timing. Šibenik is an hour from Split and a little over an hour from Zadar by car or coach, with the bus station on the waterfront. Parking near the old town is limited and the historic core is closed to traffic. The stepped approach makes the fortress impractical for wheelchairs and hard work in the heat; carry water, as there is nothing to buy en route. Late afternoon into sunset is unambiguously the best time — the light comes across the channel from the west, the roofs turn orange, and the temperature on the exposed ramparts becomes tolerable.