I was excited to be heading back to the Adriatic coast and the promise of sunshine once again. It was a gray and drizzly morning (no surprise!) when we left Zagreb and embarked on a journey of just over 100 miles.
Rain was falling when we made a rest stop about an hour into the trip. However, a slice of sour cherry strudel temporarily distracted me from the less than ideal weather.
We drove through some lovely but soggy countryside on our way to the coast. Low hanging clouds were tangled in the tops of evergreens that covered the hillsides. Kruno told us that this mountainous area of Croatia was known in the past as the Devil’s Garden because it was relatively undeveloped and was home to a large population of wild animals. Nowadays, a modern highway goes through the area. The peace and quiet and the small towns attract tourists, especially hikers, in the summer.
It was gloomy when we entered the modern 1.2 mile tunnel that goes through the mountains, but when we exited on the other side, the sky was bright and I could see the waters of the Adriatic.
We reached the coastal city of Rijeka shortly before noon. In addition to being Kruno’s hometown, Rijeka is Croatia’s principal seaport and serves as a hub for container ships. It’s actually located on Kvarner Bay, an inlet of the Adriatic Sea. At one time, the city was part of the Roman province of Dalmatia. Because of the city’s strategic location and its excellent deep-water port, the Romans built a military outpost here in the 1stcentury BCE. From the 12th to 14th centuries CE, Rijeka was an important commercial seaport of the Holy Roman Empire. During the time it was under the control of the Hapsburgs in the 16th and 17th centuries, Rijeka came under attack by both the Venetians and the Ottoman Turks. It eventually came to serve as the main port for Hungary. During this time, many Italians emigrated to the city. In the 19th century, it served as a major port of departure for people leaving Central Europe to start new lives in America. Trivia fact: the first torpedo was invented and produced in Rijeka in the late 1800s.
After World War 1, Italy and the new kingdom of Yugoslavia claimed Rijeka, which was then known as Fiume. A treaty established Rijeka as the Free State of Fiume, an independent city-state, in 1920. But in 1924, Mussolini annexed the city to Italy. During World War 2, the city was occupied by German troops and was extensively damaged by Allied bombing. When the war ended, the Italian population was expelled and in 1947, Rijeka officially became part of the Socialist Republic of Croatia.
According to Kruno, Rijeka and the surrounding area draw a lot of weekend visitors from Zagreb and Ljubljana, two inland cities that are a mere 2-hour drive away. Also, every February, the city hosts a big Carnival celebration that attracts big crowds.
Our visit to Rijeka was very brief, just long enough for a hands-on lesson in making fresh pasta which we then consumed for lunch. Rolling out the dough by hand was a bit tricky but the results of our efforts were delicious. We created two different shapes (tagliatelle and a rolled macaroni) that our instructor, Ada, combined with two different sauces: for the tagliatelle, a mixture of ricotta, Parmesan, lemon, and olive oil; for the macaroni, a simple pesto sauce.
After lunch, we continued on for about 10 miles to our final destination of the day, the coastal town of Opatija. As soon as our bus pulled up to our hotel, the Hotel Palace Belleview, it seemed as if we were in another world. Opatija was developed as a resort town for the elite of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in the 19th century. The emperor at the time, Franz Joseph I, wanted to make it look like the Mediterranean city of Nice, France. Old World grandeur, slightly faded, would be an apt description of our hotel.
My top floor room had views of the sea. Even the threatening dark clouds didn’t dispel the rush of excitement I felt at being here. I was imagining myself as a newly arrived Viennese aristocrat here on holiday, watching as my maid carefully removed numerous silk gowns from an enormous trunk.
Shortly after we checked in, we went for a walk with Kruno to explore the town. As we walked along the lungomare, Opatija’s seven-mile long seaside promenade, I glanced up at the sky where the sun was valiantly struggling to make its way through the clouds. The promenade is named for Emperor Franz Joseph I, who ruled the Austro-Hungarian Empire from 1848 until his death in 1916.
We stopped at a small harbor. Back in Opatija’s early years, the wealthy guests staying at the nearby hotels and villas would hire boatmen to take them on excursions out into the bay. By the way, that's a statue sitting on the bench.
The elegant Kvarner Hotel, built in 1884, is the oldest hotel in Opatija.
The lungomare is lined with villas, gardens, benches, cafés and restaurants, sunbathing areas, and steps leading down into the inviting blue waters of the bay. I didn't see anyone out swimming.
The first villa built in Opatija was the Villa Angiolina, built in 1844. Its garden is one of the more popular spots along the lungomare. The beautifully landscaped park overlooks the water. Opatija’s climate of mild winters and year-round rain allows palm trees and bamboo trees to flourish.
Along one side of the Park Angiolina is a wall covered with murals of well-known visitors to Opatija. These include Isadora Duncan, Albert Einstein, and Gustav Mahler, as well as more recent figures such as Kirk Douglas.
In contrast to all of this luxury along the lungomare is the modest St. James Church nestled among the trees. An associated Benedictine monastery stood in this location for about four centuries before the resort town of Opatija was developed. In fact, Opatija is the Croatian word for abbey. Today, the church is used for chamber concerts as well as prayer services.
The main road through town runs about one block above the lungomare. This is where we found numerous restaurants and souvenir shops.
By the time we got back to the hotel, the blue sky was pushing the clouds away. This is how it looked from my hotel room.
We had dinner in the cavernous dining room of our hotel, which has retained its original décor with crystal chandeliers and lavish gold accents. Dressed in my casual traveling attire, I felt somewhat underdressed for the setting. The dinner buffet included a huge array of hors d’oeuvres, salads, meats and accompaniments, and, of course, desserts. Sadly, however, it was a case of quantity exceeding quality and appearance exceeding taste. I was even tempted to go out for gelato afterwards – but I restrained myself.
Instead, I went upstairs to get some rest so I’d be ready for the next day’s excursion to the nearby Istrian peninsula where we’d be visiting two hill towns. The following morning, the sunrise, as seen from my hotel room shortly before 6am, made me cautiously hopeful for good weather.
The first stop of the day was in the forest outside the town of Motovun.
Here, we met a truffle hunter who demonstrated how two of his dogs sniff for truffles that are buried in the ground. He told us that these two young dogs are still being trained. One of the important things they have to learn is not to dig up and eat the truffles themselves.
The charming medieval village of Motovun sits on a hilltop 886 feet above sea level. Archaeologists have discovered that Celts and Illyrians built fortresses in this location in ancient times. In the late 1200s, Motovun was taken over by the Venetians, who constructed the walls that are still intact. Currently, around 400 people live in the village and some of the residents speak Italian as their mother language.
The area is known for white and black truffles. The white truffles are more rare and are therefore more expensive.. We stopped into one of the many truffle shops in town, and the scent was overwhelming. After tasting several truffled items, I bought a small bottle of truffle powder (12 euros) to sprinkle on vegetables, eggs, etc. (Now that I have the truffle powder at home, double sealed in nesting glass jars, the truffle aroma still escapes every time I open my pantry door.)
Walking around Motovun reminded me of the small hilltop village where I lived in the south of France many years ago. I wasn’t surprised to learn that the residents are trying to stop foreign developers from coming in and building golf courses and resorts. The residents of my former village faced the same problem.
About 45 minutes after leaving Motovun, we reached the hilltop settlement of Hum. With a population of about 50 people, Hum is thought to be the smallest village in Croatia.
Right after we arrived, we headed to lunch at an open-air restaurant. Cheeses and bread, salad, beef and potatoes, pasta with truffles (superb!), and fried dough – all of it was delicious.
Afterwards, we took a look around the village.
Hum’s Baroque parish church was built in 1802 on the site of a church from the 13th century.
At the Museum of Hum, located in an old village house, we learned about life in the past. There were recreations of various rooms and shops and a school room as well.
It was interesting to see the recreation of an artist’s workshop. Of course, in earlier times, all art was produced for the Church.
There were several examples of the old Glagolitic alphabet, which was created in the ninth century in order to translate liturgical texts into Old Church Slavonic. This stone tablet dates from 1100 CE and the language is Old Church Slavonic.
And there’s a Glagolitic inscription near the bottom edge of this stone figure made for a wall niche. It dates from the 15th century.
In the adjacent Aura retail store, I was tempted to buy more Croatian products. I limited myself to a few consumable items, such as chocolate bars and fig cakes.
By the time we returned to Opatija in the late afternoon, the sky was quite blue. After that big late lunch, a chicken and vegetable tortilla from a nearby casual restaurant sufficed for dinner. I didn’t have the energy to stay out late, so I retired to my room, where I was pleasantly surprised to see a fireworks display from the window. I’m not sure what the occasion was.
At breakfast the next morning, I skipped the sparkling wine. After two days relaxing in Opatija, it was time to leave the luxurious world of the 19th century behind and move on to 21st century Slovenia.
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