It was an ordinary summer, when three old school friends and I decided to embark on a Croatia itinerary to discover together a Mediterranean slightly different from the one we were used to. And also a country reminiscent of our own but profoundly different at the same time, a melting pot between Latin warmth and a certain reserve, perhaps inherited from its more recent history.
Our journey began in Zagreb. We were flying from different cities, so we chose the Croatian capital as our meeting point. The most metropolitan city in the country struck us as somewhat cold at first glance, in a sense inhospitable. The following morning, however, we reversed that initial impression during a stroll through its historic center. The heat dulled the flies that swarmed in the popular Dolac Market. Nearby, in a bistro serving revisited classics called Gostionica Fliclek, we tasted some of its typical dishes, still letting our bodies adjust to the contrasts we had experienced.
We left Zagreb’s urban atmosphere and headed toward Hvar, where a rural and very genuine setting awaited us. The ferry dropped us at the dock area, where a couple of sun-kissed locals helped us unload our suitcases. From there we retrieved our car and began to traverse the endless roads—often one-way—that led us to our accommodation, a traditional inn close to Lesina.
During those days our life was simple: we frequently descended to the bathing area, where grilled fish with a few drops of lemon became our recurring menu. We took advantage of Hvar’s proximity to other small archipelagos to plan a few day trips. I still smile remembering our excursion to Marinkovac Island, where I carried a small sachet of beads and entertained myself making necklaces while sunbathing. My friend Rodrigo, always very skilled, grabbed a paddleboard and spent a good portion of the afternoon lounging on it, letting the sun’s reflected glow on the water sketch shapes on his torso.
