Onwards to Pula!

Well I'm a Dutchman! At least Mr B is according to his 'new' ACSI card since ours was transposed with someone else's at Polidor. This discovery slowed down our departure somewhat, until a document could be produced by the staff (in Croatian, Italian and German) to show our next campsites that we were still members - just with someone else's card!

So far, so good, as we write this from our second site since then, and it hasn't been an issue.

Leaving Polidor a little later than planned, we decided to take a more direct route to Pula, stopping for a walk at the Dzamonja sculpture park near Vrsar, all metal orbs and granite and marble blocks, instead of the inland village trip we'd originally planned – something for the return trip perhaps.

Not one to appreciate the nuances of modernist sculpture, Mr B was more enamoured of the abundant poppies and rural idyll to be found right outside the entrance.

The drive south was an easy hop and in one village, there were more pigs and sheep slowly roasting on spits by the roadside than you could shake a stick or basting brush at. Clearly a hotspot for coach trips (as we saw in the carparks) it was none-the-less something we fancy at some point in Istria or northern Dalmatia – some clichés are just too good not to be eaten!

Arriving in Pula early, we had plenty of time to explore Camping Arena Stoja and choose a pitch. Choice with ACSI is restricted here to woodland pitches (i.e. not the prime beachside ones) and we found ourselves sharing with the jays, blackbirds, thrushes, martins and hooded crows in the forest, as well as a visiting hedgehog of an evening, and of course, the by now inevitable Scops owls once dusk fell. As an added woodland bonus, we also had hundreds of weird abseiling caterpillars that descended from the trees on silken threads – every evening – at gin-o’clock!

Although we were denied the fabulous direct views from the beachside pitches, we decided that our views were pretty good all the same, and after all, it wasn’t more than a short walk to catch the wonderful sunsets…

Our primary reason for being here, however, was to up the culture intake after lazing at Polidor, and in particular one of Croatia’s most iconic landmarks, the 1^st century BC Roman Amphitheatre, the sixth largest in the world and in pretty good order. A short bus-ride from the campsite and only 11HRKpp, the bus dropped us near the main municipal market. Keen to see what was on offer (a useful insight to what locals are buying and what the restaurants had access to) we were impressed with the range of neatly presented fruit and veg, but less so by the limited range of non-farmed fish. This is the second fish market we’ve seen and the majority of fish on sale are farmed – so we’re hoping Croatia’s reputation as a must-go-to fish-frenzy destination is awaiting us further along the coast!

We left the market with possibly the most expensive bunch of wild asparagus (about £5 for maybe 20 little fronds) – but it was delicious – slightly peppery and sharp – and a first for us. We also bought local cherries and a half litre of local olive oil – unlabelled, so a bit of a risk but very nice all the same. Olive oil is heavily promoted as a local product on the Istrian peninsula, but we are still a little bemused by all the fuss. It’s nice enough but seems to lack the individual varietals and flavours that we’ve become so fond of in Spain.

After the market we made our way to the amphitheatre, adjacent to the main port area of Pula and a truly impressive sight.

Having had a year off from big scale Romano/Greek monuments since our trip to Italy/Sicily in 2015, Mr B was on a mission to soak up the atmosphere in the arena – famous not only for its ancient scenes of gladiatorial combat, but also for live performances by a wide variety of artists.

Baking under the 30 degree sun, it was easier to feel the tension of mortal combat than the chill-out sounds of many of the arena’s more contemporary performers that have graced what must be an outstanding venue to see a live performance in. As we wandered around and appreciated the space and grandeur (helped by relatively few other tourists) we headed over to the entrance to the well-preserved underground part of the arena. Used in antiquity to house animals, gladiators and assorted folk destined for a brief moment of death or glory, it is now given over to an exhibition of wine and olive oil making and storage from Roman times – thanks largely to the substantial number of amphorae discovered here.

Emerging from the gloom of the subterranean basement, we headed off to find somewhere to eat. We’d started our wander near the market and as usual, Mrs B had spotted a ‘konoba’ with a set lunch offer, where many of the locals seemed to be eating – and so we headed there in preference to the plethora of obviously more touristy places that looked to offer near identical menus to each other.

Causing a few quizzical looks as we entered (there didn’t seem to be any other tourists at all) we were greeted in the now customary German (the vast majority of visitors to Istria seem to be German or Austrian), to which Mr B had his well polished if doubtfully accurate Hrvatski response, asking if anyone speaks English.  And after some behind the scenes shouting, the chef emerged and greeted us in English – to which we added some sketchy Hrvatski in order to order our lunch – no menu, just a choice of three dishes.

And what a delight that was – a pork and rice combo and a goulash and pasta one that were nowhere to be seen on the other menus we’d passed but both of which were (according to our Rough guide) authentically Istrian. Washed down with some local pivo (beer) we left feeling suitably full and pleased that we’d made the effort to make an effort to find local food.

We’d read about the not often visited Austro-Hungarian fort at the top of the town and fancying a chance to get a different view of the amphitheatre as well as the famous (illuminated at night) cranes of the dockyard, we made the slow but steady climb through the old town to the fort. Dominating the view over the harbour, the fort was a useful reminder of the position Pula played as the key naval base for the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

By chance, we also discovered a museum in the fort dedicated to Croatia’s anti fascist movement before, during and after WW2. It was a fascinating insight into what led both to the creation of the former Yugoslavia under Tito, and also some of the competing interests that created the powder keg that became the ‘homeland war’ of the early 1990s.

Replete with enough depressing but timely-reminder-ing history, we couldn’t resist a dip into a contemporary exhibition about sexuality, featuring the male and female way of accepting the topic of sex, sexuality and eroticism in Istria, from ancient times to the present day, called ‘The Bird in the Bush; the Covered and the Exposed in Istria’s Sexuality’.  Quirky, interesting and humorous, the exhibition was an unexpected treat.

On our way back down to the bus stop, we also spotted this intriguing and clever way of accessing water for building works – and paying for it with a portable meter!

Preparing for our return to Camping Arena Stoja, Mr B’s growing confidence with his Hrvatski was soon dealt a body blow when we stocked up on some fresh bread before returning to the van. Launching into his well versed  “I’m sorry, I don’t speak much Croatian – can I have half a loaf (soft) please” he was given short shrift and a fluent reply in English along the lines of – ‘if you are going to speak Croatian you might as well learn how to pronounce it properly’ by the woman in the bakery. Suitably chastised and muttering his now re-worked Hrvatski, Mr B practised for the return journey by bus, drawing some interesting glances as we waited at the stop.

Returning to the campsite after a quick stop for a lemon ‘sladoled’ by the imposing Arch of the Sergians (30BC) we decided that as Croatia is famous for its sunsets, we ought to make an effort to see some more, so we wandered over to a vacant prime pitch where we watched the sun go down before dinner and reflected on just how much we were really starting to appreciate the Croatian vibe… Of course the largely good weather we’d enjoyed for the past few days may have had something to do with this!

And to finish the day, we had our first foray into van-cooked Croatian food – a seasoned pork loin oven roasted with veggies and white wine – a recipe shared with us in the supermarket by a friendly local woman who spoke a lot more English than we did Hrvatski!

Of course, all good clichés have to come to an end, and the next morning greeted us with some light rain as we packed up to head up the east coast of Istria to catch a ferry for a bit of impromptu island hopping…

S&J.