Saturday, July 29, 2017

Rovinj, Croatia

This lovely seaside, fishing city (founded between the 3rd & 5th centuries AD) of 16,000 is such a pleasure to wander with its tangle of little streets in the old town, all eventually leading to the cathedral at the top of the hill.  The ancient cobblestones here are shiny from centuries of use and are slippery to walk on.








On the street, looking through a room to a cafe on a hill above the sea:



The Church of St. Euphemia built-in 1736 is not that impressive on the outside but is lovely inside with its baroque decor.






Its steeple can be seen for miles from land or sea.


A painting hanging in an alley:


Little boys selling their seashells:


This woman makes whimsical art out of stuff that has washed up on the beach:





Enjoying the day:


Every square inch of rock or concrete by the sea is in use by cafes or sun tanners.  In this tiny place, most seats were little wood stools.


Here is a tiny eatery with seating entirely along one side of stairs in an alley


From the old town market ... a string of garlic and peppers


... and a fruit stand


At the market we get to taste samples of everything truffle ... and wish we had more than backpacks ... we haven't an inch to spare.  They are delicious, especially the pesto.

We love the old bicycles decorated up and placed at random





The traditional wooden fishing boat is called the batana.  Its design originated in Italy.  No two are alike as each was built from available materials.  They range in size from 4 to 8 meters depending on the size of the room in the home where it was built.  Their flat bottoms allow for fishing in shallow seas and the noise it made slapping the water is the origins of the name batana.  Now powered with gas engines, the originals were sailed or rowed.  Each sail was uniquely patterned by the family who owned it.

Here are examples of batanas in the harbour:





On our second day here we go to the beach, renting 2 loungers and an umbrella.  The beaches of the Istrian Penninsula are rocky.  This one is called Pebble Beach.  The beach is thick with people.

The sea is warmer than the Colorado River at Lake Havasu where we ended winter, but not nearly as warm as the sea in Thailand.  Its quite warm out so the water is refreshing.



On our third and final day, we rent bicycles and head to the Golden Cape forest just outside the city.  We think aha, this is where the locals come to swim and sun themselves.  There are lots of families enjoying the day, little places selling food, drink, ice cream, etc.




One of the many coves great for swimming:



A whole field of innukshooks


Lots of hammocks about:


This cute little guy was busy eating ants:



We pass by several archeological remains in the park as well as an old Venetian stone quarry that is now used by rock climbers.

Then we come to this amusement type area ... a huge water park and people are whizzing by on all sorts of rented wheels and there are PWC for rent.  This area is so busy.




Then we come to the biggest RV park I've ever seen.  Half of Europe must be vacationing here.  There are a couple of hotels, a bunch of cabins for rent and a mobile home park.  This forest is full.

We actually were looking for access to a bird sanctuary that we thought was in the park, but we are unable to find it.  We ask various workers and they don't know.  Suddenly we find ourselves in the 'naturist' part of the campground.  A fellow comes and talks to us but is none-the-wiser about the bird sanctuary.

Dinner finishes around 10 as usual.  I'm tired of bicycling in the heat.  Back to our Airbnb.  Tomorrow is moving day.

Random Photos from Rovinj:

These are little replicas of houses in the old town.  We think the display is clever:


The wealthy have arrived and are anchored in the Adriatic under the church.





Every chimney has one of these caps over it ... like a miniature house.  On an apartment building, the roof becomes very crowded with multiple caps.


Being in ancient places like Rovinj makes me feel like this quote from Gustauve Flaubert.


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