A day off-season in Istria

Tekst i slike: Marianne Camille Srebrenka Cvitkovic

Marianne Camille Srebrenka Cvitkovic je Erasmus studentica s pariškog sveučilišta IESA Art&Culture School, koja ovaj semestar provodi na našem Sveučilištu i aktivno istražuje Istru i Hrvatsku kroz putopisne kolegije. U zanimljivom eno-gastronomskom putopisu usporedila je turističku ponudu Dalmacije i Istre, osvrnula se na problem ljetnih gužvi, a posebno su ju zaintrigirale istarske delicije! 

I was lucky enough to experience Istria before the coronavirus lockdown, around the end of February. 

Of course, at the time a lot of touristic activities, restaurants and museum were closed to the public since we were off-season but that did not bother me. I actually don’t enjoy the « touristic » atmosphere you can find on holidays, especially in Croatia. I have been visiting Split for years, and I have started to fall out of love with the city since the filming of Game of Thrones brought a new hype to Dalmatia. Now, you simply can’t properly enjoy Split, Zadar or Hvar and the beautiful culture that they have to offer. Because of the new popularity of the region, the locals stopped offering authentic experiences and started branching out to spring breakers, festival goers, party fanatics…in short young people looking for noise, fun and alcohol. During my last trip, my friend and I could not walk in the old city streets without having night club promoters street-marketing us in French and inviting us to this or that bar. Even more aggressive to my eyes, the old city in Split is now adorned with a Game of Thrones shop, its flashy and cheap designs next to majestic 2000 years old walls. 

I don’t solely hate the tourist season because I’m a snob. I hate it because the Croatians have started to hate me in return. After days and days of dealing with tipsy and obnoxious foreigners, the locals have little to zero patience. Add this to the fact that French people have earned the rightful reputation of being just the absolute worst -inside and outside of our frontiers- and be assured that any interaction between May and September is doomed for me with any Dalmatia citizen the minute they hear my accent. My dad never took into teaching me his parents’ language, so for the moment I can only speak so little…and the little I know don’t fool the civilians. Even if I came here to eat prsut in peace and stroll in museums, I’m instantly grouped with the rest.

Long story short, I have renounced for the moment to visit Croatia in Summer. But still, I was very nervous of how it would compare to actually living there, and how different my experience would be. 

I’m glad to say that apart from a bus driver trying to rip me off 30 kunas and a cashier rolling her eyes at me, it has been quite positive. I was right to think the rise and rush of crowds have an effect on the local’s mood.

 Switching of region also made a difference. It’s no secret that Croatians have a strong opinion about their neighbors, even if it’s from a few kilometers away. The people in Pula always smirk when I tell them my home base was Split for a while. A waiter plainly stated “They’re mean. They’re crazy. Here, we drink coffee and relax.” I can’t be as opiniated as him, but I would probably back his claim about Dalmatians. I don’t know if it’s something in the water but people in Istria have been incredibly welcoming. They don’t only let me breathe in the same space as they do, they genuinely want me to think here is Heaven on earth.

But again, the difference in character must have a lot to do with dealing with dozens of Americans all day or not. I’m not so sure I would have had such charming interactions in July.

Compared to my siblings and I, my mom knows very little of Croatia. She remembers the visits to the family-in-law and she remembers soup the most. So, when she came to visit before the beginning of my classes, I had to be both hers and my own guide. After a quick visit to the Tourist Center, we left with a few maps scribbled with recommendations and promotional magazines. Sadly, we knew most of the restaurants recommended in the Time Out Gourmet in Istria were either closed or very vague about their hours on Tripadvisor. But she and I were set on exploring Istria, even if it meant just walking in silent marinas for hours. We had a car, no fixed plans and I was very excited to discover my new residence a little more.

A revelation came to me pretty quickly: right before the season was when every place was getting renovated. So unoccupied landmarks did not mean silent. The cities were sometimes filled with the buzzing of construction machines, right next to unbothered rare clients splayed in terraces. We often thought we were just a couple of weeks early and could have really enjoyed the locations much better in March. News would prove us wrong with the covid-19 lockdown. Little did we knew; we were taking the last chance to travel before the epidemic.

 Our first stop is still our favorite to this day: Motovun. Croatia as a whole is a heathen for truffles-afficionados, but the forest around Motovun has one of the best harvests; both in terms of quantity and quality. It was only obvious to start our trip there as my mom has been obsessed with truffles since her thirties. I don’t share her frenzy for the expensive mushroom I find overbearing, but I still live to eat. 

On the way to Motovun, we often got distracted by the scenery, most precisely the soil. The palette of red earthy tons, coloring the white fences and doors along the road with a tint of rust was so striking. The decor reminded us some of the Flemish paintings we had observed during one of our weekly museum visits, where nature invades everything, and even the figures painted can’t distract your eyes from the bushes and the trees. We immediately made plans for her next visit to buy hiking shoes and go explore the wilderness. 

We arrived around 11am and parked the car next to the old cemetery. The view was even more breathtaking from up there, as you could have a full panoramic view of the vines and farms around, and the kind climate had already started spring early. Everything was of a very tender and fresh green, next to the maroons of the earth. We walked around the city and the ramparts, more to kill time before noon: we had come mostly for Mondo, the restaurant recommended to us. Furthermore, there was not a lot to do in this season in the already very small village: even the church was closed to visits. Everything to be done was done in a couple hours. Eventually, Mondo opened and we rushed to a table, surprised to see we were far from being the only ones. Even during a week day off-season, situated up a hill that would discourage most, the restaurants was half full at the opening. That was a very good sign.

 All the stars and certificates owned by Mondo were well-deserved. I devoured my pistachio and pancetta pasta plate, and my mom talked of her elaborate radish, truffles and egg-parfait for days after our lunch. To top it off, we had desserts (a rare event for our savory-inclined selves) and then swore to come back every time we could. We digested by walking around the small cemetery, comparing Italian and Croatian names on the tombstones as I gave her a quick brief on the local history. We then left for Porec, listening to Aretha Franklin in the car, my mom still marveling at her truffle-filled degustation.

After such a gorgeous and unique city as Motovun, things could only get downhill for the rest of our road-trip. Porec was making us frown, with its giant headboards for the local attractions (a water-park, a zoo-reptilarium…), reminding us of a deserted and even more commercial Split. The only notable activities there that you would not find in any other Croatian city is the seaside and the Byzantine Basilic. The seaside walk is very charming and clean, so unless you’re terrified of seagulls it’s really worth a look. The Byzantine Basilic is a well-preserved landmark, the visit is well organized throughout the rooms; and it’s interesting to read all the explanations about the organized religions and cults at the time. The artefacts are not all that marvelous, but the few that are do make the price of the ticket worth it! 

Will I go back in Porec? I don’t really plan to. Again, it did not strike me as jewel, especially right after the incredible village of Motovun. It might be the fact that my main motivation during traveling are food and nature…but I stand my ground.

We returned after that to Pula, where my mom was staying for half a week. We had dinner at Jupiter, one of my favorite restaurants in the city. My heart belongs to Napoli when it comes to pizzas, but Jupiter still holds its place in my top 5. My mom wanted to try cevapi again after a few years, and was surprised how tasty the meat was, as she usually goes towards seafoods. We took care to scratch this itch at the market the morning after, which she also really liked.

 We both agreed that no matter what the future months would look like, I would be very satisfied, being so close to all those delicious and fresh products. Overall, the mix of Croatian and Italian cultures in Istria makes the local cuisine very complete and intriguing and was one of the reasons for my choice in the Erasmus Program. 

And while I might not now have access to Jupiter, the market, and lost the possibility of strolling in and out of cities, this travel around Istria confirmed for me I picked the right city. I’m not sure I would have had such a pleasant experience living in Zagreb or in Split. Who knows, I might even stick during the tourist season!