The Adriatic port, on the northernmost part of Croatia, manages a vanishing
trick with the hundreds of thousands who flock there during the summer
months. There’s enough out-of-town development to house several armies, but
once you’re actually in Porec itself the crowds seem to melt away and you’re
left with the town that one Roman historian called “the jewels of a young
girl’s diadem”.
I’m tempted to say things haven’t changed much since then but one colleague
remembers it being attractive but slightly grim during the grey Tito era.
Now it’s cast off its inhibitions and welcomes tourist by the plane load –
although I did spot several Tito t-shirts for sale, plus a preponderance of
lethal-looking BB guns for sale along the seafront promenade.
The old town, built on a penisula which juts out into the sea like a camel’s
neck basically consists of one long street – but what a street. It’s
pedestrian only so that the marble which still paves it is so polished you
can almost see your face in it. Narrow alleyways lead off on every side and
roman towers and battlements pierce the skyline.
Hidden, halfway along is the basilica of St Euphrasius, a Byzantine
masterpiece that’s on the Unesco list of world heritage sites. This isn’t
history in a guide book, it’s history under your feet, in front of your
fingers and – in the best possible way – in your face.
Pay the small fee as we did and climb to the top of the basilica and you’re
able to see how adroitly the Croatians have managed to cope with
21st-century crowds.
The wooded hills that stretch to the north and south of the port are alive
with the sound of Croation kunas being spent. The development is vast, but
amazingly unobtrusive. We stayed at the Plava Laguna Holiday Centre to the
south of the town which consisted of blocks of apartments dotted along the
hillside, all with a splendid view of the Adriatic. Inside there were two
bedrooms, a lounge, balcony, bathoom and a small kitchenette.
Near the centre’s office and next to a superb pre-revolutionary manor house
there was a vast swimming pool. This was important as although Croatia has
many attractions - beaches aren’t one of them. They do rocky inlets, they do
stony coves, they do man-made diving platforms, but you’d be hard-pressed to
find more than a thermos-full of sand on the couple of miles coastline
between Laguna and Porec.
This didn’t seem to put off many of the visitors, especially the Russians who
occupied the aprtment next to ours. Each morning, dead on 8am the husband
and wife would march down to sea and plunge straight in - whatever the
weather was like.
For us namby-pamby English, the pool with its water jets and leisurely
aquarobic classes seemed a safer bet.
It was by sea however that we were able to complete one of the higlights of
our stay – a day trip to Venice. Of all the ways of getting to this amazing
city, water is considered one of the best. However this has to be tempered
with the fact that you’re arriving in a high-powered hydrofoil, ie, an
enclosed cocoon, rather than the open boat which tradition demands
So there’s no wind on your face and the only spray come from the overfull cups
of coffee of the passengers on the neighbouring seats. But you do tie up at
the quay and it’s only a short walk to St Mark’s Square. Then after lunch, a
whirlwind tour and the essential ride on the gondola you’re whisked back to
the slightly more sobering delights of Porec.
Not that you leave all things Italians behind in Porec. The Italians once
owned the place (the history of this part of Croatia has more comings,
goings and surprise developments than an Old Vic panto) and happily they
left behind lots of Italian favourites, like ice cream and pizza. The ice
cream comes in more flavours than you can shake a bread stick at and the
pizzas are glorious - thin, crisp and, if you're hungry, as big as a
cartwheel.
