The path was unmarked—and we weren’t sure if we were trespassing—but the sound of the sea beckoned us and we kept moving forward. The secluded path that we stumbled upon on our first night in Croatia was a gift after the long day of travel and the emotions of leaving our daughter at home for the first time.
As we walked along the jagged cliff path that hugged the Adriatic Sea, we noticed there were places where the sea had carved away at the rock, where you could literally dip your toes in the refreshing water. Watching the sun sink in the sky—with the cerulean sea crashing on the jagged rocks—was exactly what we had imagined when planning our getaway. It was postcard-perfect. The breeze, the warm air, and the pink sky instantly untangled our knotted muscles and anxieties.
When babysitting became available—in the form of enthusiastic grandparents—my spouse and I jumped at the chance for a holiday sans baby. After much deliberation and hours of clicking away online, we decided on Croatia. Secretly, we hoped that it was still undiscovered. It would have been nice to brag to our American friends, “Hey we just came back from this exotic little spot called Croatia,” and they’d respond, “Oh my! We’ve never even heard of Croatia.” But, they have heard of it, because let’s face it, anywhere I’m comfortable going these days is pretty much discovered. It would have been even nicer to say to each other, “Hey, we’re going to Croatia and it’s costing us next to nothing!” Sigh … that would have been nice too.
Our research led us to the romantic city of Dubrovnik instead of the bustling port of Split. Perusing the images of the walled Old Town of Dubrovnik set against the azure backdrop of the Adriatic Sea, I imagined luxurious evenings filled with slow decadent dinners and pretty cocktails. I would be dressed in a flowing white sundress, the sea breeze playing with my long silky blonde hair, and my sun-kissed husband would wear a crisp white shirt and linen pants. But then, searching for a hotel in Dubrovnik proved difficult and expensive; and white is really not practical for cocktails or dinner; and well … my hair is chin-length brown.
We reevaluated our priorities and realized that we wanted a beach vacation and time to just “be.” So many of our trips end up being sightseeing marathons and we wanted this trip to be the antidote to the craziness of our lives. It seemed that booking a hotel in Dubrovnik, although fun, would put us in the thick of things.
We found a hotel on the island of Kolocep, a short ferry ride to Dubrovnik. The island was very quiet and rustic and it lacked the hustle and bustle of Dubrovnik. It also lacked the amenities—there was one tiny market and three restaurants, one of which was in our hotel. What Kolocep lacked in dining, it more than made up for in views and serenity, providing the beautiful calm and quiet that we so desperately needed.
That said, the beach outside our hotel was crowed daily with families and couples enjoying the sand and surf. We traversed the island, looking for a less populated beach and a local restaurant recommended by one of the hotel staff. The desert-like topography of the interior of the island was a stark contrast to the sapphire sea. Our walk was successful and we were rewarded with our own quiet beach and expanse of clear water. The water was crisp but refreshing given that the day’s temperature rose to the high nineties. Our day was spent swimming, reading on a bench, and sipping bevies—all to the peaceful soundtrack of cresting waves.
Glowing and hungry, we arrived at the recommended local dinner joint run by a Croatian family. It was nothing fancy—a beach cover-up wasn’t even required—but the food was authentic, and the large open terrace welcoming. The wife served while her husband, Mario, ran the grill. We could all hear her yell “MARIO!” after she took our order. Mario, who walked with a slight limp, made his way to the outdoor stone grill to heat up the coals. The meat or fish was cooked as you sipped a cold drink and watched the sun set.
