After bike touring the Dalmatian Islands, we took our last ferry and began pedaling our way through Istria. This northern peninsula of Croatia is like a separate country. It reminded me of a cross between the Croatian Islands, Tuscany and Piedmont (only more affordable). Known for world renowned truffles, excellent wines and UNESCO medieval villages, it felt very old world. The coastline is dotted with vibrant port towns with narrow cobblestone streets that wind through historic buildings and always have a church at the highest point. The promenades are lined with cafes and gelaterias that welcome you to sit back and stay awhile to gaze at the the crystal clear sea.
Inland, the hilly countryside is layered with vineyards and olive trees between steep and imposing hilltop towns. You can even go directly to farms to fill your wine and olive oil bottles! It feels a lot like you are in Italy, especially because signs are in both Croatian and Italian and most people speak Italian fluently. It’s not surprising that historically Istria was part of Italy.
Along our bike route we have met several other bike tourists, mostly Europeans traveling south along the coast. There is a mutual respect and camaraderie among all of us, and we often trade stories and information about the route with each other. We met a nice couple from Canada on the ferry to Istria and rode with them up the huge hill from the coast until our routes parted ways. I was feeling a little jealous of their light load and questioned my own packing decisions. Did I really need to pack a dress? Or my hiking shoes and puffy jacket and rain pants and…the list goes on and on. The thing is, with bike touring you need to be very precise with what you pack because every little thing adds up and you have carry it all. We have met several “credit card bike tourists” who stay in hotels and can get away with just two panniers each. We decided for this tour that we would bring our camping gear, which adds two more small panniers for each of us. It’s a decision that saves money but adds weight. Sometimes it’s nice to sleep in a bed, so although we have been camping most nights, we do treat ourselves here and there to an apartment or B&B.
After camping at a busy beach camp outside of Poreč, Jarrod reserved us a nice farmhouse B&B (Agriturismo/Agriturizam) in the wine country of Istria for two nights. (Staying in one place for more than one night is also a big luxury when bike touring). We had been biking for 5 days in a row and needed of a day off of the bikes.
The route to our B&B followed quiet country roads that wound up and down the hillsides. It was beautiful, but our legs were toast. It was getting late in the day and we had been biking uphill in the heat of the sun. I might have had a roadside meltdown earlier in the day while stopping for a pee break. I might have made a big announcement to the unlistening world and to Jarrod that bike touring is not for me.
We pedaled until our legs would go no further to reach the hilltop town of Motovun. Of all the hilltop villages, I do believe that Motovun is the steepest and most pointy of them all. Our jaws dropped when we saw it. We put the bikes in granny gear and made our way slowly to our B&B, ready to clean up, kick back and be off the bikes for the next day and a half.
The final push to get there was all that we could handle. We were ecstatic to reach the beautiful farmhouse surrounded by grapevines. We poked around until we found our host who was clanking around in the restaurant kitchen. Our excitement turned to fear when we saw the shocked look on her face; the look that doesn’t need translation; she was not expecting us; I wanted to collapse and cry.
But wait! There is always a plan B! Being the good host that she is, she assured us that we could stay. The apartment was not available until the next day, but for one night she could put us up in a small room with a private bathroom. It would be ready in 5 minutes. In the meantime, “relax, and have drink”.
Yeah ok, twist my arm!
Of course 5 minutes turned into an hour and some, but with a half liter of Malvazia, some sparkling water and a shaded picnic table overlooking the grape vines, all was well. The wine and beautiful view soaked us in and we were in no rush for anything.
Our stay at Agriturizam Toni turned out to be one of our favorites of all time. As planned, we took the entire next day off from cycling and relaxed at the farm, enjoying a leisurely breakfast and observing the adorable family-run operation. Three generations live and work there, each taking on different tasks between the farm, restaurant and the few apartments that they rent out. The daughter, who is about my age, creates magic in the kitchen. Everything that comes out is made from scratch and delicious. Friends and other patrons drive to the farm for dinner to enjoy her specialties. Her handmade pasta with truffles was my favorite. She also makes a delicious variety of crostatas (berry or cream cheese filled pies). Her 3 year old daughter has the job of entertaining everyone as she drives around the farm in her tiny electric car. Grandma cleans the rooms and helps out in the restaurant, serving tables. There was another older woman helping as well, perhaps another family member. Grandpa (Bruno) feeds the chickens and takes the donkeys out to eat in the morning. I’m not sure if he does anything more than that because most of the time he was sitting around chatting with guests or friends that came by. When Jarrod asked for grappa his reply was “self service” and pointed to the dozen or so bottles of homemade grappas and liqueurs. Then he chuckled and said he was too old and fat to get up. Their pace of life seems so relaxed and simple. Observing this style of family-run business inspires us to consider doing something similar.
As I’ve already mentioned, the town of Motovun is at the tippy top of one of the steepest hillsides I’ve ever seen. The surrounding land has truffles growing beneath the soil, and truffle hunters with their dogs find and sell them to local restaurants. You can take in the spectacular view from the top of Motovun at one of the restaurants and also enjoy the local truffles. The pungent delicacies are served over pasta, pizza, eggs, in cheese, prosciutto, and infused in olive oil and honey.
Vineyards line the hillsides and wineries produce crisp and aromatic whites as well as dense and serious reds. We walked down the hill from our B&B to Fakin Winery (pronounced very much like the “F” word, they play on this with their slogan that reads “Fakin good wines”). We were delighted to learn that they were celebrating the beginning of the wine season with free tastings and bites to eat! We tasted their refreshing Malvazia, Chardonnay and the most delicious Rosé I’ve ever tasted made with the red Teran grape. We also tasted their red Teran wines that ranged from young and fresh to oak aged with more depth and structure. I was impressed by the quality of the wines and knowledge of the staff.
Up the hill we found another winery with a similar name, Fachin. An older man spoke with us in Italian, as that was the best way to communicate with our lack of Croatian and his lack of English. He explained to us that the two wineries come from the same family, only over the years they have been spelled differently (his had the Italian spelling and the other had Croatian). I wondered if there had been a family feud that spawned this back in the day. After generous pours and a tour of the winery, he refused to accept any kind of payment. We refused to leave without at least buying a bottle.
We wrapped up our time in Istria with a beautiful (downhill!) ride towards Slovenia and a bottle of Istrian Malvazia in tow.
