Spring in the Mediterranean — a visit to Croatia and northern Italy
by Harlan Hague, Stockton, CA
Like foods and fads, travel destinations are constantly being discovered and rediscovered. Western Europeans have known for years that Croatia is a delightful place to visit, but North Americans have been visiting the country in numbers only in recent years.
Croatia burst onto the world news and into public consciousness during the 1990s. As communist influence in Eastern Europe waned, Yugoslavia disintegrated violently into its constituent parts. Croatia became independent in 1995 after a 4-year war with Serbia, which opposed the breakup of Yugoslavia, and Croatia’s own Serb minority, who favored union with Serbia.
The world was horrified when Dubrovnik, the jewel of the Dalmatian Coast and a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1979, was bombarded by Serbian forces. On our May-June ’07 trip, we found that the city is now completely restored and is the most popular destination in the country.
A skeptic might describe Old Dubrovnik as a museum with restaurants, but this simplistic view overlooks the charm and historical importance of the city.
Getting settled
My wife, Carol, and I arrived in the afternoon. We had missed the airport bus, whose departure from the airport is tied to arrival times of flights, because we were busy reporting the nonarrival of Carol’s checked bag. We were forced to take a taxi.
Our landlord, Marc, a Brit expatriate and longtime Dubrovnik resident, met us at the Plocˇe Gate (vehicles cannot enter the Old City) and led us to our apartment. We told him why we were late and he asked, “What airline did you fly?”
“British Air.”
“Thought so.”
After checking into our convenient, spacious lodging at Karmen Apartments (phone +385 [0] 20 323 433, www.karmendu.com), we immediately began exploring. Our apartment (€95 per night plus 30% for a short stay, totaling €123.50, or $195) was inside the walls of the Old City, just steps from Luzˇa Square, the main pedestrian thoroughfares and the Arsenal Wine Bar (11 St. Blaise Sq.), which became a favorite of mine.
In evaluating a restaurant, I am more impressed by ambience and location than food. The covered outside dining area of the Wine Bar had a great view of the harbor, and the candlelight and good wine completed the picture. The food was good, as well.
Exploring the city
The next morning on the Placa, the wide promenade that divides the Old City into northern and southern regions, we had cappuccino and pastries at a café with a view toward the pretty tower of the Franciscan monastery and Pile Gate.
After breakfast, we climbed the steps near Pile Gate and paid $20 at the kiosk there for a walk around the top of the Old City wall — a must. The views of the city and coast were magnificent. Schedule an hour and a half for this walk to allow time for a look inside the round Tower Minceta and short visits to the Fortress Revelin, which guards the eastern gate, and other forts along the wall.
Boat trips along the coast and to the islands are available from the harbor near the Wine Bar, but we declined in favor of more wandering. The narrow, cobblestone streets and alleys were most inviting.
We visited the Franciscan monastery and the Gothic/Renaissance Rector’s Palace. Formerly a government building, the palace now houses the city’s Cultural Historical Museum.
We were surprised to find a Serbian Orthodox Church (there aren’t many Serbs in Dubrovnik) and stepped inside. We also toured a historic synagogue and the Dominican monastery.
We were almost alone in the beautiful Sponza Palace. Once housing state offices, it is now the repository of the city’s archives.
We had lunch at tiny Pizzeria Baracuda, one of scores of pizza restaurants tucked into alleys all over the city. It was quite tasty, and I don’t usually eat pizza.
Plitvice Lakes National Park
We left Dubrovnik early the next morning, walking in darkness from our apartment to Plocˇe Gate, where our prearranged taxi was waiting. As we drove up the hill outside the city, we looked back as the first hint of dawn cast pink shadows through the streets. We decided that we would return.
Our next destination was Plitvice Lakes National Park, Croatia’s top natural attraction. I had tried to arrange other means to get there from Dubrovnik, but there was no rail access, it was too long a drive and the bus was impractical. So we had to fly to Zagreb, pick up a rental car and drive about three hours on the Zadar-Split highway to the park.
We arrived in the early afternoon and checked into Hotel Plitvice (phone +385 [0] 53 751 015, www. np-plitvicka-jezera.hr), located inside the park just a 5-minute walk from the main entrance and the park buses. Our room cost €96 ($152), including breakfast.
Plitvice Lakes National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is a wonderland of small lakes, waterfalls and watercourses that cascade down a wide, wooded canyon.
Most visitors take the convenient park buses to the top of the canyon and then stroll down on walkways of rough-cut timbers. Small ferries transport walkers on the largest of the park’s lakes.
A glass of good Croatian wine on the hotel veranda was a welcome end to a most satisfying day.
To the coast
From the park, we drove through pretty, green countryside toward the coast. An hour or so west of the park, we saw a number of isolated farmhouses and small clusters of homes and farm buildings, empty and boarded up, some beginning to sag. A church was empty and locked. I speculated that the national park was being expanded and the residents had been moved away. Not so, I learned later.
On Istria’s west coast, Dario met us at the parking area in Rovinj, as cars cannot enter the Old Town, where we had reservations at his Casa Garzotto (phone +385 98 61 61 68, http://casa-garzotto.com).
Dario, we would discover, is a friendly, gracious host and a mine of Croatian history and culture. We asked him about the empty villages and farmhouses. It was due to ethnic cleansing, he said. Serbs had lived there.
I was surprised. I had heard about ethnic cleansing in Serbia but not in Croatia. Croatia had the ear of the west, Dario said, and better propaganda.
Dario took our bags on his motor scooter to his place and returned to the market at the edge of the Old Town, where we met him. We checked in (€100 per night, including breakfast), then walked the almost deserted streets as night began to fall. The magic of a place, seen for the first time at twilight, is private and permanent in memory. It is never replaced by the reality of noon.
But Rovinj, even at noon, was a joy. The ancient, red-roofed buildings on narrow, cobblestone byways, hardly streets, looked out on a wide harbor where fishing and pleasure boats were tied.
The best view of the town and harbor was from the top of the Venetian tower of St. Euphemia Church. The climb is not for the fainthearted or any who suffer from vertigo. The steps are rough planks with open views to the bottom of the tower. And don’t be startled if the bells in the tower sound while you are on the stairs or at the top.
Our days started with breakfast in the pretty dining room on the ground floor of our B&B. Then we walked the streets of Rovinj, stopping for cappuccino and watching the boats in the harbor. Evenings, we had wine and dinner at restaurants on the harbor, then walked along the waterfront watching the sunset.
Croatian hill towns
One day we drove to Porecˇ, located on the coast north of Rovinj, and visited the sixth-century St. Euphrasius Basilica, one of Europe’s most notable early Christian churches and a repository of wonderful Byzantine art. We climbed the tower for a panoramic view of the town and harbor.
Porecˇ was interesting but too crowded and too busy, so we fled inland to visit medieval hill towns. This area of Croatia was under the rule of several succeeding foreign powers until the end of World War II, when Italian hegemony ended and the area officially became part of Yugoslavia. As the Italian residents withdrew, the towns emptied. They are still in the slow process of reoccupation by Croats.
Grozˇnjan was our first stop, and it was a gem. The village has become popular with artists and musicians, and there are numerous galleries that feature paintings and sculpture.
We had lunch at a nice, shaded restaurant in the small main piazza. Afterward we walked around the periphery of the village enjoying the sweeping views below.
We drove next to the nearby village of Oprtalj. This picturesque little hill town still has not recovered from the post-WWII depopulation. Many of the structures are empty, with weeds growing from the cracked cobbles. But a number of buildings have been restored, and small gardens were filled with blossoms. The village is more romantic than melancholy.
On to Italy
After giving up our rental car, Carol and I walked to the bus station and boarded a comfortable bus for Trieste, Italy.
En route we passed through a small strip of Slovenia, where Slovenian officials did a cursory walk through the bus and stamped our passports.
In Trieste we began our train odyssey: Trieste-Venice-Prato-Lucca — three trains without a hitch. Rain began to fall as we walked from Lucca’s train station in the gathering gloom toward the Old Town walls.
“Not very promising,” Carol said.
Once we were inside the city walls, Carol saw a sign that identified a pink house as Puccini’s home. She brightened immediately.
We found Albergo Diana (phone 0583 492202, www.albergodiana.com) at dusk and checked in. After depositing our bags, we walked the darkening streets as lights began to come on. It was magical. In the future, we must remember to schedule our arrivals for this hour.
Walking Lucca
Old Town Lucca is walkable. After a cappuccino and pastry at a nearby café the next morning, we set out. Biking the broad, brick-faced earthen walls is popular, but we opted to walk. We went only a short distance, however, since the city lies on a flat plain and the view from the wall is not so dramatic as, say, that of Dubrovnik, which is built on a hillside that slopes gently toward the sea. We left the wall and walked in the Old Town instead.
Strolling Via Fillungo, Lucca’s main street, we found it crowded mostly with locals and Italian tourists. Near the northern end of the street, we walked through an arch into Piazza dell’Anfiteatro, which retains the circular shape of the ancient Roman amphitheater but now is populated by shops and small restaurants. A shaded outside table provided a stop for coffee.
We visited a host of the city’s many churches. It seemed like there was a church for every dozen Lucchesi.
Duomo di San Martino, begun in the 11th century, is a delightful mix of architectural styles. The cathedral has a Romanesque façade and sculpture, Renaissance paintings, Gothic arches and 19th-century stained glass.
On the right side of the nave lies the striking tomb of Ilaria del Carretto, wife of Paolo Guinigi, who ruled Lucca in the early 15th century. Young women believe that rubbing the nose of the reclining bride can help them find a boyfriend. The snub nose is evidence of a host of lonely girls.
The Cathedral Museum, housed in an adjacent building, is worth a visit. A combination ticket costing €6 allows admission to the tomb, the museum and nearby San Giovanni Church.
San Giovanni Church attracted us for two reasons. Excavations beneath the church have revealed the foundations of Roman houses and baths, ancient churches and other structures, and elevated walkways permit close viewing of the ruins. It was most interesting.
On leaving the church, we bought tickets for a performance of arias from Puccini and Mozart operas at the church that evening.
On another day, we went to Puccini’s house, now a museum, but it was closed indefinitely. Carol was distraught.
Guinigi legacy
Any visitor to Lucca at some point will feel compelled to investigate the 14th-century Guinigi Tower. For us, the 227-step climb to the top of the tower was worth the effort. The 360-degree views of the town and distant hills were most rewarding. The tower is the only one remaining of the four that once topped the Guinigi mansions.
Another Guinigi namesake is Villa Guinigi. Built as a family residence by Paolo, the villa is now a museum housing sculptures, paintings and artifacts, notably those of the Liguri tribe, the ancient inhabitants of the region. The holdings are interesting, though there is no documentation in English except the multilingual signs prohibiting photography.
The museum would have been more rewarding but for the dour staff who seemed to resent our presence plus docents who directed us along the visitors’ route, making sure there was no backtracking. Maybe they fear vandalism; they certainly could not be fearful of crowds, since we were almost alone in the museum.
We spent our last hours in Lucca as we had begun, strolling Via Fillungo and stopping for a gelato and, later, tea at an outside table on a piazza. We liked Lucca. We also liked our hotel, with one caveat. We stayed the first night in the original building (€67) and the other nights in the Annex (€93). We preferred the first room, as it was larger, quieter and cheaper, with a better view, than the newer Annex.
The Cinque Terre
We left Lucca at noon by train bound for the Cinque Terre. The trip was relatively short, with changes at Pisa and La Spezia, and we arrived in Vernazza in the late afternoon.
The rain began during our short walk downhill from the station to our hotel, Albergo Barbara (phone +39 0187 81 23 98, www. albergobarbara.it). Then came the climb of 75 steps (Carol counted them) up to our room on the top floor. The room (€80) was spartan but adequate, with the best view in the Cinque Terre.
This hotel is recommended by Rick Steves, and it fills up, especially the upper double room with facilities en suite and a harbor view, so book early.
The small main piazza was directly below our window. Dotted with colorful fishing boats, the piazza was ringed by multicolored umbrellas shading café tables. The church sat adjacent to the square, and visible just beyond was the beach, the harbor and the sea. Beautiful!
More than once during our four days in the Cinque Terre, I sat at this window with a cup of tea or a glass of wine, reading or daydreaming.
We planned to walk the next day. The Cinque Terre is a national park, and hiking on the maintained trails is a popular pastime. Fees for use of the trails range from €3 for a one-day hiking pass to €20.60 for a one-week Cinque Terre Card, which includes the park entrance fee, hiking pass and transport on local trains and buses. The card is also available in one-day, 2-day and 3-day versions.
Before setting out, we stepped into a tiny coffee shop near our hotel for a cappuccino and pastry. We had hardly sat down when a storm broke, with thunder and lightning and rain falling in sheets. It was wonderful. We decided to walk another day.
Venturing farther
We took a train north to Monterosso, where we walked up the gently sloping seaside promenade, looking down at a WWII German bunker on the cliff face and back at the colorful buildings on the seafront. Retracing our steps, we strolled through the narrow, winding lanes of the Old Town.
Passing a huge, lush bougainvillea that hung over the walkway, we stepped into the Church of St. John the Baptist, which looked for all the world like an ecclesiastical convict with its marble horizontal black and white stripes. After a pleasant lunch at an outdoor café (of course, the rain had stopped since we were no longer walking) we boarded a train for Corniglia, a few miles south of Vernazza.
Now, Corniglia is one of the five villages of the Cinque Terre, but it is different from the other four. Unlike the others, tiny Corniglia is atop a hill overlooking the coast. To reach the town by the most direct route, one must climb a steep staircase of about 400 steps.
I decided that we should instead walk up the winding road to the top. After a short distance on the steep road, we backtracked and waited at the train station for the park bus that drove up that same road — a good decision.
We required only about a half hour to visit the village. There are a few small restaurants, a wine shop, a gelateria, a shop selling picnic supplies and a few others offering trinkets and T-shirts. At the top of the town is a viewpoint where one can look at the beaches far below and, inland, at the terraced hillside vineyards.
We had cappuccino and cake at a terrace café with a sweeping view of the coast and train station below, then opted to walk down the hundreds of steps. We took the train back to Vernazza, where we had dinner, walked on the pier and watched the sunset. We ended with tea at a beachside table in the piazza.
Manarola and Riomaggiore
The next day we were determined to hike. After a light breakfast, we took the train to Corniglia, intending to walk from the station to Manarola and on to Riomaggiore. One can walk on maintained trails between all of the five villages, but this stretch was billed as the easiest segment; undoubtedly, that is why we shared the trail with many others. The path hugged the hillside, the waves alternately lapping and crashing below.
Before we reached Manarola, a light rain began to fall, putting an end to our hiking. Instead, we walked the streets of tiny Manarola in the light rain.
This village cascades down a ravine and is quite picturesque. At the top, we stepped into the 14th-century parish church of San Lorenzo.
From Manarola we took the train to Riomaggiore, where we walked up a steep street to the top. We looked inside the early-14th-century parish church of San Giovanni Battista. From there, we followed a path that wound above the town and beside vineyards and lemon trees, with wonderful views of the town and coast. Afterward we made our way back to the station below and took the train back to Vernazza.
A final, leisurely day
Our last day was a kick-back day in Vernazza. The morning was bracing, and we climbed through narrow walkways to a terrace on the north side above the town. Carol continued higher to the cemetery while I sat and took in the fantastic view of the harbor and sea.
The sun was hot now, and I strolled down the hill to meet Carol at the piazza. I had no sooner paid for our tea when we noticed that the ferry at the pier was loading passengers. We had talked about taking a ferry but had made no plans.
We looked at each other, grabbed our cameras and caps and ran. Carol hoped it was going to Corniglia; I didn’t care.
Upon departure we learned that the ferry was bound for Monterosso. After a pleasant cruise, we debarked and walked around the village for a couple of hours, enjoying the same sights and taking the same pictures that we took on our first visit. We had lunch and took the train back to Vernazza.
We were lazy that afternoon, reading and enjoying a glass of wine, then we had dinner at a café in the piazza just below our room. Afterward we walked out to the pier and watched the sunset. It was a relaxing end to a most enjoyable holiday.
Heading home
In the morning we caught an early train bound for Milan Malpensa Airport. We changed trains at Monterosso, endured an unusual delay en route and arrived in Milan an hour late.
I learned, too late, that one should not buy tickets for the airport bus in the train terminal. It’s a waste of time. Instead, go from the train station to the lobby, turn left and head straight ahead to the exit. Once outside, turn left and walk about 50 yards to the bus queue.
There are at least two bus companies. Buy a ticket on the spot for the bus scheduled to leave next.
The moral for this day — always include a large time cushion in your travel schedule. Happily, we had, and we made our flight.
I will be happy to respond to comments and questions. Send e-mails c/o ITN.