We've moved from one island in the Adriatic to another, taking the car ferry from Korćula (KOR-chu-la) to Hvar.
Korćula is beautiful, but small. I went for a jog Thursday morning, down the hill from our hotel, the Marko Polo, to the Old Town and back. It was so small, I lapped the old walled city twice before heading back up the hill, probably a little less than a two-mile run.
The layout of the city magical, though: The alleys on the west, straight, to carry the cooling breezes across the town during summer; slanted on the east, to block the cold winds which come with winter.
Still, watching the sun rise on the sea was beautiful. It's hard to describe how clear and blue the Adriatic is; it's the deepest blue at times, but when you look into it, even down from a pier, into waters 15- to 20-feet deep, it's so clean and crisp you can see schools of small fish darting back and forth between the rocks and over the sand.
We rented a car for the trip from Dubrovnik to Istria. It's kind of funny; we're rocking the roads of Croatia in a Skoda family sedan:
Hvar is an ancient seaport, cast aside like so many others in the Adriatic and Mediterranean Seas during the 1800s when steam-powered vessels usurped the sailing ships. It's had many names, with Hvar being a mispronunciation by the Slavs which invaded what was then the Greek island of Pharos in the 7th Century.
The three-hour ferry trip was wonderful, with para-sailors and windsurfers criss-crossing the wake of the ferry boat as we left Korćula.
Somewhere between Korćula and Hvar ...
Korćula is beautiful, but small. I went for a jog Thursday morning, down the hill from our hotel, the Marko Polo, to the Old Town and back. It was so small, I lapped the old walled city twice before heading back up the hill, probably a little less than a two-mile run.
The layout of the city magical, though: The alleys on the west, straight, to carry the cooling breezes across the town during summer; slanted on the east, to block the cold winds which come with winter.
Looking east ...
Still, watching the sun rise on the sea was beautiful. It's hard to describe how clear and blue the Adriatic is; it's the deepest blue at times, but when you look into it, even down from a pier, into waters 15- to 20-feet deep, it's so clean and crisp you can see schools of small fish darting back and forth between the rocks and over the sand.
We rented a car for the trip from Dubrovnik to Istria. It's kind of funny; we're rocking the roads of Croatia in a Skoda family sedan:
Hvar is an ancient seaport, cast aside like so many others in the Adriatic and Mediterranean Seas during the 1800s when steam-powered vessels usurped the sailing ships. It's had many names, with Hvar being a mispronunciation by the Slavs which invaded what was then the Greek island of Pharos in the 7th Century.
Hvar seen from Spanjola Fortress
The three-hour ferry trip was wonderful, with para-sailors and windsurfers criss-crossing the wake of the ferry boat as we left Korćula.
The ferry arrives at Korćula
Leaving Korćula
The car ferry, which only leaves once twice a week from Korćula, actually takes you to the port of Stari Grad, on the north side of Hvar island. Then you drive for 20 minutes or so to Hvar proper. We got in to town around 4:30 p.m. and checked into our hotel, the Podstine, which is Croatian for "Under the Wall," by which they mean, under the 80-plus-foot cliff face:
We were in the building on the other side of the road. The hotel's layout being that the reception and lobby are on the 3rd floor, and our room was on the 1st floor, descending down the cliff face. Yes, the room was the size of a large, Park Avenue walk-in closet, and once again the shower was Hobbit-sized. (On a side note, Bob had no trouble with the size of the facilities.)
The city was founded by the Greeks in the 4th Century, B.C., but the fortress which looms high above the town was built upon the ruins of a 7th Century A.D. Roman fort. It's called the Spanjola Fortress due to its 16th Century design, built under Venetian rule, based on Spanish architecture.
Following the collapes of the shipping trade in the 19th Century, Hvar's governors smartly positioned the island as a vacation and spa destination, a tradition which continues today.
Bob and I were exhausted from the day's travel, and we wanted to eat at the Golden Shell, one of Croatia's best restaurants, but with only 24 seats in the place, it was booked solid our first night. The waiter, Anton, however, recommended we go to Konoba Menego, a small restaurant at the far edges of the touristy restaurants, up the hill from the town square.
What a find: Basically a "mom 'n' pop"-style place serving traditional food, we enjoyed an amazing meal of gnocchi and shrimp in a light cream sauce, a seafood salad and the special of the night, baked veal wrapped around vegetables in a caper and olive oil reduction served with a barley and vegetable salad. The gnocchi were tricolor, made with potato, potato and spinach and potato and beets.
What stood out above all else was the white wine, which Bob ordered. Full-bodied, like Chardonnay, but even and crisp, with citrus, apple and buttery notes. Bob was mad for it, and I kept stealing sips. (I had the red, made from the local Plavac grape, which was nice, but nothing outstanding.)
But when we asked for a bottle, our waiter told us it was the house wine, from the owners own vineyard and not for sale. It's not uncommon, he told us. Even the olive oil was from the owner's olive groves.
You don't get much fresher than that.
The view from the lobby
The city was founded by the Greeks in the 4th Century, B.C., but the fortress which looms high above the town was built upon the ruins of a 7th Century A.D. Roman fort. It's called the Spanjola Fortress due to its 16th Century design, built under Venetian rule, based on Spanish architecture.
View from the Fortress
Following the collapes of the shipping trade in the 19th Century, Hvar's governors smartly positioned the island as a vacation and spa destination, a tradition which continues today.
Bob and I were exhausted from the day's travel, and we wanted to eat at the Golden Shell, one of Croatia's best restaurants, but with only 24 seats in the place, it was booked solid our first night. The waiter, Anton, however, recommended we go to Konoba Menego, a small restaurant at the far edges of the touristy restaurants, up the hill from the town square.
What a find: Basically a "mom 'n' pop"-style place serving traditional food, we enjoyed an amazing meal of gnocchi and shrimp in a light cream sauce, a seafood salad and the special of the night, baked veal wrapped around vegetables in a caper and olive oil reduction served with a barley and vegetable salad. The gnocchi were tricolor, made with potato, potato and spinach and potato and beets.
What stood out above all else was the white wine, which Bob ordered. Full-bodied, like Chardonnay, but even and crisp, with citrus, apple and buttery notes. Bob was mad for it, and I kept stealing sips. (I had the red, made from the local Plavac grape, which was nice, but nothing outstanding.)
But when we asked for a bottle, our waiter told us it was the house wine, from the owners own vineyard and not for sale. It's not uncommon, he told us. Even the olive oil was from the owner's olive groves.
You don't get much fresher than that.
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