The hangover was unreal. Evidently a day and night of drinking, coupled with the heat and possibly not enough water, meant we were feeling rather delicate. Most of the late morning and noon was us both anxiously putting off having to leave our bed.
Once we had enough effort to do so, and shower and change, we set off mid-afternoon for an exploration of the town. The searing heat that welcomed our departure from the pansion was not agreeable, but we ambled along down the hill again to the old town.
People filled the plazas and the alleyways again, so we passed through the throngs and onwards into the old town proper. This move at least saved us from the direct sunlight. The old town felt very Venetian. Narrow, paved alleys led to tiny squares. The buildings were coloured red, orange, or lemon, in a rustic hue, often with washing lines (or were they telephone cables?) knitted between them. It was quieter here, and we drifted between some alleys that were strictly residential, and others that had shops or eateries, with half being open and the other half promising to open in the evening.
We wound anti-clockwise around the hill and made our way to the plateaued summit on which the Church of St Euphemia stood. Its whiteness stood out brilliantly against the crisp blue sky, and the views from here were spectacular. We continued anti-clockwise to return back down to sea level and stopped at one of the few restaurants that were open in the afternoon. I had a lovely risotto as I sat on the shaded side of the table.
After a little more exploring, we returned to our hotel to nap off the rest of our hangover until the evening. We returned via the usual route once more to the town, and found a busy pizzeria with a small queue waiting to get in. It seemed popular, so we waited the 20 minutes to get in. Following our food, we walked along the quay as the sun was setting. It was beautiful, as the darkening blue sky was buffered from the now lit-for-night-time old town by a streak of yellow and orange of the setting sun. We then found a bar in the old town, looking over the darker part of the quay, where we supped on beers and wine whilst watching small pleasure boats arrive from a day out at sea.
I was not feeling too super the next day, my stomach was troubling me somewhat. John played doctor and went out to get me salty snacks and some pharmacy goodies. He triumphed on the first count, but on the second it turned out that it was a national holiday - the Assumption of Mary - and so the pharmacy was closed. Upon his return, I felt the need to get out of the room. So we packed beach items and walked to a nearby wood, which led to what would hopefully be a more secluded beach off the tourist trail. We crossed the road onto a grassy area, before finding the main trail through the trees. As we walked along a Croatian woman in her late 40s, whom we were slowly passing, spoke to John and me. We struck up a conversation, the usual of where did we come from and such, and soon her male companion joined in. It turns out that she is an Istrian native, and her husband was originally from Canada.
As we approached the coastline, our new friends gave us a tip on the best place to pitch up, and so we diligently followed their instructions. We found a quiet spot, but still surrounded by enough people to peer at and guess at their lives. As ever, John went in for a dip a few times, whilst I lay as still as possible, so as not to disturb the mild nausea, and read my book. By 5pm, we decided to head back, and that was the end of the day for me. I rested my eyes, only to wake up again the next day.
The sleep is what I needed, as I woke up feeling a lot better. As we got ready, we decided upon a boat trip. There was one that left the old town harbour and was a comfortable 25-minute ride to the Red Island. We packed our beach things and went to town.
We approached the south-eastern part of the quay, as this seemed the place where there were pontoons from which to board a handful of the larger, passenger carrying boats. Other boats offering services were for those who wanted a more private experience. It seemed that this island also had on it a hotel, and so many of the passengers had suitcases and whatnot to get to their final destination. We boarded for a mere 40kn and got a seat. At the point at which it seemed we reached capacity, a few more people were wedged on, and then the gangplank was removed, and the engines began to roar.
We sort of reversed out of the dock, rear end into the quay, but now pointing in the right direction to head out to sea. As we picked up a little speed, the sea breeze was a welcome addition as it cooled us just as the sun’s heat began to rise. It was such a pleasant journey. We slowly bobbed along, admiring the passing mainland, then sporadic rocky outcrops, whilst being entertained by some sea birds flying alongside us, and played a guessing game of which island was our one.
Once our final direction was set, we knew which island was ours. A quayside had a few people near a quay house, possibly waiting for our boat to arrive to take them back. Over the horizon of a small knoll, you could see a brutalist inspired hotel complex peering out. Disembarkation was smooth and we made our way, along with our fellow passengers, up over the small hill, and into the main area of the hotel, which had a cove like beach, with sand, which was made up of an isthmus that joined two separate islands. This area had beach party vibes, what with the pumping dance music. But at least there were food and drink options for later. We carried on over the isthmus to the southern island and found a more tranquil and secluded spot.
For the first time in a long time, I went into the sea. Its clear waters were very enticing, and its temperature very cooling. As always, I never want to have to repeat going into the water, what with the sharp, cold pangs of horror each time, so I spent a good 20 minutes just paddling about with John. I dried off, and carried on as normal, rotating between reading and people watching. A few of our fellow beach dwellers were rather more revealing than others. How Mediterranean!
By about mid-afternoon, we used the handy beach showers to wash off the sand and salty sea water and decided to get a drink and snack. So, we ventured back to the party part of the island and grabbed a table overlooking the busy beach that was, ideally, under some shade. John went to get us some beers and, almost to type, he returned with cheese and ham toasties. This moment was bliss. Just sitting, chatting about anything and nothing at all, and slowly sipping beer.
We decided to try and get the second last boat back, so we walked back to the dock for the 5pm ferry. It was very busy. Perhaps other people had my very own fear of being stranded, so leaving a cushion of 1 or 2 services more before the last one just in case. We boarded, and I recorded the journey back. After we departed the boat, we went back to the pansion to change, and grabbed a gluttonous ice cream on the way.
It was a quick change around and we were soon back in the old town. After wondering around as the sun was setting, we decided to eat at somewhere near where we were the other night. It was a place that predominantly had fish, but I opted for the risotto. It was gorgeous. With our dinner, John and I sank a litre of white wine, such was the occasion - our last night in Rovinj. After food, we returned to the bar from the other night, which we thought was part of the restaurant. It had seating within the restaurant. But you could then descend some stairs to take you on the concrete buttress at almost sea level. Makeshift seating was made up of cushions, and small café tables were dotted along the walkway to the seats.
The night was warm and clear. The sound of the sea lapping up against the stone was soothing. We drank beers and cocktails, slowly, as we took in the stars and the moon, illuminating the town and reflecting in the water. Small boats again returned to the dock for the night. It was a truly sublime last night for our visit to Rovinj.
No comments:
Post a Comment