‘Slow travel at its most joyous’: our three-week road trip to Croatia
29.04.2024 - 11:23
/ theguardian.com
How far would you go – and how long would you take – to avoid flying and thoroughly embrace the idea of slow travel? In my case, it was 3,167 miles over three weeks. For nearly a decade I had wanted to do a road trip to Croatia, and to get as much out of the journey as the destination itself. Rather than bomb down the motorway for marathon stretches, the idea was to slow down and see new things.
It seemed we had barely rolled off Le Shuttle (the name Eurotunnel reverted to last spring) before my husband and I were out of France and bouncing along Belgium’s bumpy motorways. After a six-hour drive, Germany’s oldest city, Trier, made a pleasant overnight stop, the reconstructed gothic Hauptmarkt square bathed in late afternoon sunlight. Its summer pop-up bar taught me that the Mosel wine region makes some very drinkable rosés.
Germany proved to be one of those places where I couldn’t stop making mental notes on things to come back and explore; and the night we spent in Munich made me wonder why I had never visited before. It wasn’t just handsome Marienplatz and its neo-gothic new town hall; the food shops and stalls on Viktualienmarkt made me seriously hungry.
Rather than stay in the old town, we picked a hotel in Werksviertel, a few S-Bahn stops away. This former industrial area is now full of container bars, sleek hotels (including ours, the Adina, which has a fabulous roof terrace), concert venues and a huge ferris wheel.
Another lovely surprise – the first of many the next day – was Chiemsee, whose waters we glimpsed from the autobahn to Austria. Bavaria’s largest lake shot up my “How on earth have I never heard of this place and can I please come back?” list.
Our entry into Italy’s snappily named Friuli-Venezia-Giulia region coincided nicely with lunchtime. Determined to avoid a dire motorway meal, we found a restaurant in tiny Tarvisio where pizzas came smothered with local San Daniele ham. Later, in Udine, we watched a beautiful Renaissance town wake from its afternoon snooze and come alive with the evening passeggiata. An aperitivo in Piazza Giacomo Matteotti, a wander under Piazza della Libertà’s porticos, and a dinner of spaghetti alle vongole is what you want after a five-hour drive. The next day, when we caught our first glimpse of the Adriatic on our way to Trieste and stopped for lunch surrounded by Habsburg stateliness, I was making more plans to return.
Our Italian interlude was so delightful I was almost sorry to whiz through Slovenia and finally into Croatia. My goal was my parents’ region of Lika, in the west of the country, above Zadar, but for once I wasn’t visiting the inland area where my family came from. When I was writing my Croatia travelogue, My Family and Other Enemies, in