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Istra

Many years ago a delighted traveller described Istria as a fairyland. He could not imagine that his impression of the largest peninsula in the Adriatic would to this day remain its most accurate description. Indeed, hichever direction you take, Istria will reveal itself to be a land of fairytale magic, a magic that could have been created in no other way but during those moments when mischievous fairies desired nothing more than to outdo one another in the weaving of spells.

It was they who left imprints of the footprints of dinosaurs in the stones of the Savudrija coast, as though they wanted to present us with a tantalising pointer to an Age way beyond the compass of humankind’s collective unconscious. Rising on sheltered elevations are circular hill forts built by the Illyrian tribe of Histri, whose name still lives on, thousands of years later, in the name of the peninsula. The conquering Romans chose not to change the name either. And why should they? They seemed to think it more expedient to enjoy themselves in their holiday villas, savouring scampi and the intoxicating gifts yielded by the vineyards, or to spend time in Pula’s amphitheatre, where the battle-hardened hearts of centurions would fi nd satisfaction watching gladiatorial contests. What could the bishops from the early Christian Basilica of St. Euphrasius do about it? Nothing at all. Just like the sailors who, centuries later, set sail from Pula, the Austro-Hungarian main naval port, to engage in new battles for supremacy.

Extended between the Mediterranean beaches and the Ucka mountain, standing like a massive, brooding sentinel above the peninsula, is the Istrian interior. And there, perched on the peaks of the hilly landscape, tiny medieval towns – a fairytale within the wider Istrian fairytale. In one such town, Motovun - possible the most beautiful of all - there resides a giant they call Veli Jože. If there is anybody who has not yet seen him, it is only because they have not visited the Motovun Woods, where the giant searches for truffl es. While on the subject of truffl es, it was here, close to the village of Livade, that the world’s largest truffl e was found in the year 2000, weighing 1.3 kg. Another of the towns, Hum, is the smallest in the world; Grožnjan is an oasis for artists, and in Pazin, nestling beneath a castle, is a massive cave from which somebody, who knows who, whispered to Jules Verne that he might consider journeying to the centre of the Earth. The peninsula’s meadowlands are ideal grazing land for the indigenous species of Istrian cattle known as boškarin. Folklore is characterized by the extraordinary tones of the Istrian scale. Tiny medieval churches still maintain the preservation of the secret of the old Glagolitic script. In Barban, lancers compete in a race for rings (trka na prstenac), fortifying their spirits with Istrian prosciutto and malmsey. Those of different tastes may opt for oysters from the Lim Channel, or for Istrian supa (a bracing combination of red wine, olive oil, pepper, sugar and warm slices of fried bread), and fuži sa žgvacetom (home-made pasta with meat sautéed in piquant sauce, served in the local pubs) accompanied by Teran and Prosecco from the wine cellar. And all that would go down very nicely after a journey of discovery along one of the cycling routes, or following an excursion to the Brijuni National Park.

croatia-small-hotels.com 2008