A Solo Traveler in Croatia, The new jewel of Eastern Europe

I was in Dubrovnik , Croatia , and this time I decided it was time to go. I had a limited time in Croatia due to a waiting job, and was desperate to explore Hvar Island which I had heard so much about from travelling friends. Unfortunately, on making my decision and thereafter heading off to book a ferry bound for Hvar city, I discovered that my ferry wouldn't be leaving for 2 days. I was seriously disappointed and was now without a bed so desperately searched for an alternative. It came in the form of a 1 hour bus trip north to Drvenik and a late afternoon local ferry to Sucuraj on the southern end of Hvar Island .

Stumbling off the bus I found that the ticket office was empty with no reference to my ride at 6:30pm. I asked some locals sitting in the nearby bar weather they knew about the service. After some comical charades I was assured that it would be here shortly and that the ticket office would open 10 minutes before the ferry was due to depart. Several fine Croatian beverages later all was revealed true and I was on the blue oceans bound for Sucuraj.

Coming into port, I was smiling, the late afternoon sunset was lihting up the local buildings perfectly and I didn't miss such a chance to get some (possibly more than some) scenic photos. However already I was somewhat aware of how much smaller the place was than it looked on the map. I wandered off the boat with the other 7 or 8 local passengers and looked for trains, buses, ferries or anything bound for Hvar city which was my destination and 80 odd miles away at the other end of the long skinny island. There were nothing waiting and the weathered, aging, schedules indicated that there was no service of any kind coming either, for 2 days!

Don't panic I thought, there would be a way around this, there must be, no problem at all. However with darkness nearing I decided that I would need to spend the night in Sucuraj. Strolling around town it actually was a really beautiful little place to be stranded in and the idea was growing on me until I realised I had pretty much walked every street and had not yet found an open hotel, hostel or pension, nor been offered a room by a enthusiastic, entrepreneurial local.

I headed into a nearby empty bar, the only thing open in town where I once again collected my thoughts over an ale. Close to the bottom I finally asked the barmen if he had a solution to my problem. He was somewhat confused (my charades are often poor) and was completely apologetic in informing me that at this time of year accommodation didn't exist here. A beer on the house followed as a condolence and was well received.

Not long afterwards I looked up to my barmen friend yelling and waving to a fisherman strolling past with his tools. My friend spoke and after much thought the fisherman looked at me and motioned to follow.

The barmen grinned from ear to ear and helped me on my way. Unfortunately I still don't have a name for that fisherman and he was wordless as we walked on in the dark. We turned into a garden and I was amused as the fisherman's wife came out to greet her husband and hardly blinked an eyelid as he apparently explained who the young bloke with a rather large bag on his back was (knowledge he obviously new from our 5 wordless minutes together). The fisherman's wife beamed and welcomed me in, showed me to their spare room and left me to refresh as if I was expected all along.

A short time later I found my way back through the foreign house to the kitchen where the old women was setting the table and the old man was sitting down with a drink. They welcomed me in, sat me down and soon afterwards dished me out a plate of fresh fish, catch of the day!

Throughout diner we stumbled in conversation, my five words of Croatian better than their zero words of English, however after much signalling, facial contorting and laughing we managed to get quite a bit across. To this day I understand that the couple had lived there in Sucuraj since dot, that the fisherman fished for a mysterious fish of about 20cm length.

They had three daughters all in there twenty's and on the mainland, one of them at university and all unlikely to return to the island, that they had never been out of Croatia and they loved the local wine. I'm sure that some of this information may be a little strayed in places however I pretty happy with the results given that our whole evening was wordless!

The much famed wine actually appeared a short time after dinner and I was handed a large glass with an equally large glass of water to compliment. Until this point I had avoided local water as the guides advised however its time had come.

Apparently the local wine didn't agree with me quite as it did with the old couple and I needed every drop of water to wash it down. It was however quite strong which explains the rest of the evenings continued consumption and indeed appreciation of the wine with my generous old friends. Was a very funning night to say the least.

Now at some point that evening my new friends ensured me that I was not as stranded as I imagined. The details were a little sketchy however as far as I could see, a local ferry would be heading to Hvar early the next day. So with a slightly saw head and stomach I was waiting by the port at 6am the next morning as directed. It's not surprising that my phantom ferry never came and there I waited for a couple of hours reading.

I was quite into my book at the time so I was unconcerned and headed for the only road out of town in hope of a ride. I was almost finished my book several hours later when a little van rattled up beside me. The driver asked something in Croatian and I answered with a hopeful ‘Hvar' and a pointing finger down the road? ‘English' he replied and it turned out that Marinko was almost fluent.

He was bound for Starigrad which was 20 odd km short of Hvar, so I jumped in. Marinko was a middle aged fellow and sent his little white van down the road like it was an F1. Apparently he knew the road very well and according to him I was extremely lucky to get a ride. Marinko was a jack of all trades, including the local bread delivery man and according to him, pretty much the only person that used that narrow and winding road and hence his fearless and total domination of it!

By the time we reached Starigrad I had learned much about the local island and I was well informed that his city was the real deal, and that it would be far more interesting for me to discover its streets than those of the touristy Hvar city. Hence I was sitting down for coffee with him his wife and their friend/flatmate not long afterwards. They then cooked up an absolute storm and would not let me leave the table till a mountain of food had been cleared.

Marinko turned out to be an extremely interesting and generous bloke. He had strong views and a philosophy that appeared to leave him without worry and free. He believed that many of the local people were similar to him, living modestly but happier than most. It seemed that many locals from Hvar still traded with raw forms, some oil for fruit, fruit for nuts, nuts for coffee.

For two days his family's home was my home and the four of us toured the island sights that were local favourites. To note was an underground deserted military station with a web of tunnels leading to cannon lookouts and beyond and home now of countless bats.

The following day's adventures in a hire car up an extremely steep dusty and bumpy dirt track to the highest point on the island was the highlight. It was a fair effort to get up that track and hence we were there alone, according to Marinko, you always were. The views were exceptional being able to see far out over the sea dotted with smaller uninhabited islands and down the steep western side of the island patched with vineyards and stone walls.

My time was almost up and I was sad to go. Marinko ensured me that he could get me work and I did not doubt that he could set me up with a wife and house as well if required. I told him that I had to get to the mainland for a train and thus I had no choice. He looked me dead in the eye and said there is always a choice. I apologised and handed him and his family a gift and wandered off via Hvar city for a new adventure. Heading off for the mainland I thought back to my final day in Dubrovnik where I made my decision to head off for Hvar and thought about what I would have missed out on if I hadn't gone. It appears there is rarely a bad decision when travelling, just a different story to tell.