Clear, blue water, roving goats and peacocks, cities built around Roman ruins; the coast and islands of Croatia are an ideal holiday destination for those who prefer the raw to the raucous, but British tourists are only now returning here, following the war in former-Yugoslavia.

My girlfriend Jane and I fancied a spot of island hopping, taking in some walking, swimming and camping along the way. We set out for a 16-day trip with open minds, a Croatian phrasebook, and our first three nights pre-booked in private accommodation in the historic city of Dubrovnik.

Our landlady, Jadre (rhymes with Padre), sang out, ‘There are no mens in my house now, only ladies!’ by way of a welcome, as her little white dog, Betty, barked ‘Dobar dan’ (Good day). There were few signs of the siege of Dubrovnik, because people have taken out loans to rebuild their homes, but Jadre had framed a dent in the wall caused by a shell. People spoke with sadness about the war, saying there were no winners, only losers.

We orientated ourselves with a walk around the high city walls, looking down on the picturesque red roofs of the old town (many of which have been replaced since the war). There are plenty of busy bars and restaurants, but no gay scene.



Local woman Mare Ivanisin told us that, despite early legalisation (in 1977), it’s hard being a lesbian in Croatia, especially outside the capital of Zagreb. But she also talked about two friends who are going to put up billboards of themselves ‘looking lesbian’ as part of an art exhibition. And she added, ‘It’s like we have a chance to make a difference just by being what we are.’

It was time for us to start our adventures, so we packed our bags, said ‘Cao’ (Ciao) to Jadre and Betty, and took a ferry to the quiet island of Mljet. The tourist office sent us to ‘private rooms’ above a restaurant – more like a small hotel, this time, but only 200 kuna (£20) a night for a double room with en-suite bathroom. Then, we strolled along an old road to the island’s shimmering seawater lakes, which are part of a national park – perfect for walking and swimming.

In the evening, we watched the yachts mooring as we tucked into mussels just hauled out of the sea and tried the tasty local sausages. Grilled fish is everywhere too, but not cheap.

When we told our friendly restaurateur that our next stop was the island of Korcula, he booked us onto an excursion boat, to save us going back to the mainland for a scheduled ferry. Once there, we unpacked the tent we’d been lugging around for a week and pitched it at Kalac campsite, by the sea. We walked into Korcula Old Town each morning, to wander round the pretty streets with their jewellery shops and art galleries (all of which have high-quality work at relatively low prices, some of it based on traditional designs), before heading back in the afternoons for nude bathing from the rocks.

But we couldn’t stay too long because we had the island-hopping bug. Next stop was the island of Hvar, for which there are daily boats from Korcula. Unfortunately, these are at 6am. We got two rewards for getting up at dawn to decamp: a lift to the harbour from a lovely dykey cabbie, and a wonderful meal on arrival at Hvar town – the first breakfast we’d seen all holiday. For £3.50 at the Hotel Slavija, you can eat as much as you like from the international buffet, sitting on a terrace by the harbour.

From there it was a short bus ride to a basic campsite at Milna where men were attempting to re-landscape using a broken-down car as a wheelbarrow. When the weather was cool enough, we walked up the hill to an eerie, abandoned village, complete with an intact old olive press. When it was hot, we staggered the 10 metres from the tent to the rocky beach for a swim in the blue waters of the Adriatic.

We recognised the women who pitched up next to us – Monika and Silvie, from Germany, had also been our ‘next-door neighbours’ on the Korcula campsite. As fans of nude sunbathing, they were on their second visit to Croatia, which has many naturist beaches, but complained about the stares of men both on the beach and when they showed affection in public. We asked them to keep their clothes on for the camera.

After a few days spent lazing around on the island, we took a scheduled catamaran to Split, a town built around the walls of a Roman palace. Centuries of building have added to the walls to create a surreal but attractive architectural patchwork of facades. We had returned to civilisation, of the ancient variety.

All that remained was a long bus ride back along the beautiful coast road to Dubrovnik. But we didn’t tick off enough islands on this trip, and will be back next year to see Vis, Brac – and anywhere en route.

Private rooms and self-catering apartments are available out of season and are more plentiful and cheaper than hotels. Ask at the Tourist Office in each resort.
The Find Croatia website includes a gay section. Follow the link to the women-run Tihi Kut accommodation in Dubrovnik. Mare will take your booking by email or, if full up, may pass you onto another landlady as she did for us. www.find-croatia.com.
British Airways and Croatia Airlines, among others, fly to Dubrovnik or Split from around the UK. Gatwick to Dubrovnik in low season starts at around £140 return and takes about two and a half hours.
Buses and ferries are frequent and cheap. Check times with boat and bus companies in each town. Boat excursions from hotels are dearer.
The Rough Guide to Croatia is reliable for information, and includes background on Croatia’s history.