Islands in the Sun

Ah, alone at last! Here on the islands of Croatia, low season is finally paying off. Like any true-blooded Finn, I prefer my natural and architectonic wonders with as few tourists as possible. Or at most with just a light sprinkling of seasoned travellers, rather than loud tour groups.

The locals here seem to be coming into their own as well: gossiping on street corners, chilling at local cafes and enjoying finally having their town to themselves. At least that’s the vibe I get. 

And where is here? you might ask. For the purposes of this post, the answer is the islands of Korčula and Hvar. 

Korčula is yet another of those medieval, picture postcard beautiful fortified peninsulas. It’s sometimes called the mini-Dubrovnik. For obvious reasons.

And Hvar is much the same - just add a hilltop fortification and remove the city walls and peninsula.

But both are stunners in their own right.

Korčula, in a brave attempt at standing out, has decided to brand Marco Polo as a local Korčula lad. And although it’s generally thought that Marco was born in Venice, the Polo family is indeed believed to originate from Korčula and there are some historical records that seem to imply Marco was born there as well. So I’ll magnanimously give them the benifit of the doubt and amble past the Marco Polo museum and gift shop to dine at the Marco Polo restaurant.

And hey, hey, hey! The weather has turned sunny and warm and the sea water is nearly 20C and I’m on an island!

However, there is a limit to how many days in old towns, even ones with few tourists, you can spend before hearing the call of the wild. 

So on a windy but warm day on the island of Hvar, I took a local bus to the nearby village of Milna and started the roughly 8km trek back to Hvar town along the coast. 

According to the trekking guide I had come across, the route should take two hours. However, with all the stops to admire secluded pebble beaches 

and just stare at the sea and lighthouse islands, I easily managed to double that time. 

The path led past vinyards and olive trees

through pinewood groves and rosemary bushes

and along spiky coastal cliffs, where I was careful not to twist an ankle, since it could have been a very long wait for someone else to come along to help. 

I saw no-one on the way except a few distant seagulls. Heavenly! 

As I write this I have already returned to the mainland. But I’m still on the coast, the weather is still balmy and the sea turquoise. What’s not to like?