Full Bellies on The Island of Pag, Croatia

Zagan the motorhome is being buffeted by strong gusts of wind on the terraced Camping Village Simuni on the Island of Pag (N44.46363 E14.96747). He’s taken shelter behind a tourer caravan with a wooden balcony. Looking at the set-up, I suspect its touring days are over.

Yesterday we spent pretty much the whole day writing stuff – it was like being back at work, only we did it because we wanted to, not because we had to, which makes a huge difference. We rewarded ourselves with a meal out, asking Mara who runs Camping Filip where was the best place to go. ‘Pizzaria Rea’ she replied. Having spotted it on our walk around the town the other night, I knew she didn’t have a speech impediment, so Pizzaria Rea it was.

There were a couple of tables free outside, but as the night was getting chilly we headed in and were pointed to seating upstairs. We had the place to ourselves, but we had the best view. Our table overlooked the pizza making area, so after we placed our orders we watched the chef create our dinner then fling it into the wood burning oven with a huge paddle. Pictures and icons adorned the chimney of the stove, Pope John Paul II, Padre Pio (everyone’s favourite Italian monk), huge rosary beads, a replica of the water tower destroyed during the war at Sibenik and a portrait of the local hero General Ante Gotovina – an eclectic mix.

When the pizzas arrived at our table they looked twice the size (that’s perspective for you) and tasted fantastic. Washed down with half a litre of the local wine, the bill came to £15 and we still had more than half a pizza to take back to Zagan with us.

As we wandered back to the campsite we spotted light and heard voices coming from an open door by the marina, we peered in to see a small cave-like room with four wooden tables and a mismatch of chairs and benches. We walked up to the ‘bar’, an area filled with fishing paraphernalia that looked like it might be going out on a boat tomorrow, and Jay asked for a Pivo (beer), ‘No Pivo, Vino? Grappa?’ came the reply, we opted for two glasses of wine. The mismatched tumblers were brimming and it took us quite a while to get through it. Pinned up among the fishing nets were photos, the one that caught Jay’s eye was a large group of men in army gear, but it looked like they were posing by the sea. The barman pointed to his younger self, smiling from the middle of the pack, it was taken 20 years ago in the town we were staying – these were the local townsfolk ready to protect their country and families during the war. After quite a bit of wine I couldn’t bring myself to ask how many of them were still alive, we simply paid up, shook his hand and left.

Thunder and lightening woke us up in the night, it rumbled on for hours with intermittent rain teasing Zagan’s roof like water torture. This morning we happily switched off the alarm when it went off and went back to sleep.

By 10.30 we were ready for the off, time to move on again. The weather had turned so today would be a good driving day, we paid up (£31 for three nights) and headed north along the coast towards the island of Pag. Dark clouds hung in the air, obscuring most of the Velebit mountain range ahead of us on the mainland. The scenery around us resembled the Scottish coast, as we wound our way down towards Pag bridge.

Crossing the bridge it was as if we had crossed over onto the moon. The landscape was rock, and well that was about it. The wind was blowing a gale, but we had to jump out and take a few photos.

Jay and the ruins of Fortica fort on the tip of Pag (Charlie trying to get out of the wind)

Pag Bridge and Fortica Fort

Scotland or Croatia?

Back in the warmth of Zagan we carried on along the island to Pag town. As we approached we saw the vast salt flats that sit behind the town. Pag island is famous for a few things, it’s the most indented island in the Adriatic, Pag Lace, Pag Salt and the sheep with produce the milk for Pag cheese – there’s a great description here about the cheese which sounds like a tourist office wrote it.

Reaching Pag we pulled into a supermarket car park and as we opened Zagan’s door a wonderful aroma wafted in – wood fire cooking a pig. Last time we were in Croatia we spotted these all along the roadside generally at the weekend, but never managed to stop and get some. This time we haven’t seen so many as it’s earlier in the season but this was our chance and we grabbed it. While the pigs are on the fire they are cooking so aren’t ready, when they are ready they are taken down and chopped up so you need to time it right. We were 40 minutes early, so had a walk around Pag to kill some time – it’s across two sides of an estuary and was pretty much closed – and nipped into the supermarket to buy some Pag Cheese (which turns out to be quite expensive at £25 a kilo, so only had a small bit).

Soon enough the crowds gathered (about six people) as the pig was ready. We ordered two portions to take away (£7.50 for both) and sealed them in a cupboard safely out of Charlie’s reach while we drove the last few kilometres to the campsite.

Pag Town with salt flats behind

Sunday dinner is ready

The campsite we are on is huge, with hundreds of pitches. We parked up and while Jay got Zagan settled and lunch warmed up I walked back to reception to check us in. Only the pitch we were on was a premium pitch not an ACSI discount pitch, we could move or stay and pay the extra. The place is huge and empty, we can’t see another occupied van from where we are, so it was a tad annoying that they didn’t just let us stay where we were, but not wanting to cough up more beer money we moved – not until we’d taken a few photos in the ideal pitch and had our lunch. We’re now 25 metres further back on a cheaper pitch, with the same view.

The premium pitch – to be fair, I can see why

So we’re here with full bellies and still some more pork and left over pizza in the fridge. We won’t need to cook for a while. A couple of fellow motorhomers have been in touch and are heading south through Croatia. They were going to meet us here today but the ferry at the north of the island isn’t running. They have been in touch to say perhaps they will get here tomorrow, it sounds like they have the same approach to time and driving as we do at the moment – mañana!

Ju x