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Cycling the Croatian Coast

Updated: Feb 27, 2020

Going Back in Time

A pleasant tail-breeze was blowing, a herd of sheep were braying by the side of the road, and the sun was beginning to move slowly but unerringly down towards the horizon; a glowing red disc that had warmed us all day as we had made our way over the boney, arid, hilly landscape of Pag towards its capital, Pag town. Following the green and luscious geography of Rab and Krk, this lunar landscape had come as quite a shock; the micro-climates of the Croatian islands producing, within a matter of kilometers, a geology and psychology so utterly different that you feel you may well have crossed into another continent, or universe, by mistake. Old women work on the island’s speciality, lace cloths, weaving by hand in the time-honoured tradition by the side of the street in Pag town as children play and old men sit in the shade and talk, sipping local wine, smoking, chatting, watching the world go by. Time here has not got the same meaning as what we are used to. No one is in a hurry. This may sound like tourist book cliché, but in the case of Pag, it really is true. The added virtue of being on a stark island with few tourist attractions is that there are few tourists, especially in the month of September.

The Joy of September

September in Croatia is, arguably, the best possible time to visit. The sun’s blazing heat has begun to subside, the tourist crush has disappeared, and you have your pick of hotel rooms and restaurant seats, while paying up to 50% less than the peak summer months. By bike, crucially, you have roads to yourself and you can feel free to explore one of the finest coastlines in Europe, if not the world, unmolested by speeding holiday-makers and traffic fumes. We had started our trip down the Dalmatian coastline in Trieste. From that elegant and commercial Italian port city, we had passed through the sliver of Slovenia containing pretty Koper, and then embarked on a cruise through the rolling, fertile penisular of Istria, taking in beautiful Porec and Rovinj, and the historical port town of Pula on the way. The feeling of really getting off the beaten track and discovering Croatia hadn’t begun however until we stepped on board our first ferry, from Pula to the island of Mali Losinj. From that point on, it felt like we had left behind the real world for three weeks.

A Sense of Freedom

There’s something incredibly satisfying about combining cycling with island-hopping that you can only really understand if you do it yourself; I had experienced something similar ten years previously on a trip around Scotland’s western isles. A sense of freedom perhaps, of really being the master of your own destiny, flirting with land and sea, and watching an ever-changing landscape go by before your eyes and under your wheels like a particularly interesting film or music video…all you need to do is provide a suitable soundtrack. All being well at this time of year, you should have pretty much guaranteed sunshine; unfortunately, our first week had been rather windy and wet.

Islands of Contrast

Arriving in Krk, all that changed, and for the next three weeks we were to enjoy almost unbroken sunshine and temperatures hovering around the 25 degree mark, combined with light sea breezes. In other words, perfect cycling conditions. Mosquitoes were our main enemy, more so for my cycling companion Henry than myself, his blood for some reason proving more attractive than mine. Krk and Rab were pleasant, hilly, picturesque islands, but in places still quite touristy. Arriving in Pag was a lovely contrast. The 63 km karstic island is a strange moonscape defined by two mountain ridges, patches of shrubs and a dozen or so villages and hamlets. There are peaceful coves and bays for swimming around the main towns of Pag and Novalja, and indeed as a cyclist one of the most welcome sights after a hot and sweaty day of lugging your machine over the challenging gradients of Dalmatia is an azure sea bay with nary a tourist in sight. The simple pleasure of having a cooling dip and drying off on a towel on a (usually) pebbly but deserted beach becomes almost heavenly.

As we moved southwards from Pag, vegetation once again became more abundant. Fig, cherry, orange and olive trees line roads, and noone is around to stop you from taking your pick of the burgeoning fruit trees lining a great deal of the coastline. Taking in Zadar and Sibenik before arriving in the spectacular water world of Krka National Park, we were briefly back on the mainland, though for the main part we managed to avoid the busy coastal highway, taking minor roads and tracks all the way down to lovely, historic Split before getting back on a ferry to Brac, Hvar and Korcula. The contrast of these islands, laid out like dominoes in a line north to south, with the more northerly islands, and particularly Pag, could not be starker.