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A postcard from Hvar – the sleepy Croatian island that's refound its charm

 - istock
- istock

Gone is Hvar's clamouring glamour – now it has refound its dignity

Disembarking on sunny Hvar, it all feels like a blurry dream. Glistening deep blue sea, towering palms and a huddle of gorgeous limestone facades bathed in golden sunshine. Surprisingly, the catamaran from Split, where I live, was half-full – almost entirely locals, only the elderly wearing masks. It was my first out-of-town trip since mid-March.

Croatia has dealt impressively with the coronavirus – 2,246 infections in a population of four million, with 103 sadly deceased (at the time of writing). We had an early lockdown and daily media updates. Arrivals were limited, and those who were allowed in were immediately quarantined for 14 days in special facilities. The entire national public transport system came to a standstill – ferries to the islands only resumed on May 18.

At the lovely Hotel Riva where I'm staying tonight, I receive a warm greeting at reception (obligatory hand disinfectant by the entrance). They opened yesterday and I'm their second guest.

Out front, just four glossy yachts are moored up along the quay, where usually there would be dozens. On the stone-paved main square, three open-air cafes are busy serving coffee and chilled beer to locals, who chatter and read newspapers.

The supermarket and pharmacy are working, but restaurants and souvenir shops remain shuttered. I call at the Tourist Information Office to ask about sightseeing, "The castle has free entry till June 15. The cathedral and theatre are closed. The Franciscan Monastery is not answering the phone". The general consensus is that things will (probably) restart on June 15, but opening hours this summer are uncertain.

Soon, these streets won't look so lonely - istock
Soon, these streets won't look so lonely - istock

I walk along the coast to find Bonj les Bains deserted. A swanky beach club in a sheltered bay rimmed by 1920's white stone cabanas and private pontoons, most summers it's reservations-only. But this year the sun-beds and parasols remain in storage. If it does open for 2020, it will employ social distancing between guests who are not from the same family or group.

Nearby, in a pebble cove backed by pinewoods, a grandmother, father and toddler sit throwing stones into the sea. The colours seems more vivid than ever – emerald green, inky blue and indigo – maybe because there are no distractions, or maybe I've just become more focused after ten weeks of semi-isolation. Local kids have reclaimed their island - three young boys take turns to swing from a rope, tied high in a tree. The normally-buzzing Hula Hula beach bar is vacant, no sun beds, no siphoned lounge music - just rocks, sea and gulls. Truly blissful.

I follow a path through pinewoods to a hillside spot with spectacular views down onto the majestic old town and intoxicating fragrances of jasmine and wild fennel. Gone is Hvar's clamouring "glamour". Now it has refound its dignity. I descend steep stone steps, criss-crossed by sleepy alleys (usually packed with dining tables) to return to the main square.

I meet Nikša Barišić, owner of fish restaurant Macondo (macondo.com.hr) for coffee by the harbour. "Things will crystallise this month - if I decide to open, the restaurant can be running in three days", he says. "But everyone here has someone at home over 90, such as my mother. It would only take one infected guest – then what?" Adding, "I think we're more prepared for this than Western Europeans, because we've lived through recession, before that war, and before that socialism. Money is not so important, we take things as they come".

Hvar's harbour - istock
Hvar's harbour - istock

At sunset I have a glass of wine with Zsanett Jakab of Hvar Diving (hvardiving.com). "Judging from bookings, we'll have visitors from Germany, Belgium and Switzerland – we'll probably cover 30-50 per cent of last year", she says. "We'll be following the recommendations of the international Divers Alert Network regarding COVID-19 - disinfecting wetsuits and mouthpieces, and buying special new filters for the compressors".

Next morning, I have breakfast on the Riva's waterside terrace, lined by rattan sofas with stripped cushions and pots of pink flowering oleander. Usually thronged with guests, today it's mine. A polite young white cat watches expectantly as the waitress brings coffee, warm buttery croissants and a delicious omelette filled with mozzarella, mushrooms, bacon and fresh rocket.

The four yachts have departed. In their place is a lone wooden excursion boat, Bodul (bodul.com.hr) with several towels hanging out to dry on the deck. It does one-week scuba-diving cruises around the islands. "We have five return guests from Zagreb, they come every year", says the skipper. "We've no idea how it will work this season, we're taking it as it comes".

After breakfast I follow the coast south of town, beyond the 16th-century Franciscan Monastery. Eventually I come to a hidden spot where I lay my beach-towel on smooth white rocks. Tying my hair up high into a bun, I plunge into the deep turquoise sea – it's bracingly cold, almost icy, but I feel a massive sense of achievement, relief and gratitude. Summer has officially begun. Now, let's take it one day at a time.