Grožnjan – Croatia

“How I hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity.”

William S. Burroughs

Thursday

My eye is still red, but now it is causing me pain. I get this bad headache behind and around my eye.

It was so bad yesterday afternoon that I couldn’t read, and I went to bed at 6.00 pm. Shutting my eyes helps the pain.

Croatia today.

Our village is tiny and I am looking forward to a drive and a change of scenery.

Today I will not drink.

“Better to sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunk Christian.”

Herman Melville

After a light breakfast, we leave our cabin in the vineyards.

There is ice over the vines. We didn’t get snow, but there is a blanket of white across the valley.

As we cross the border into Slovenia we get the real deal.

At first, it was just a run of white in a shaded valley, soon everything is covered in drifts of pure white.

Grožnjan is perched high in the mountains of Istria. The region is renowned for its wine, olive oil, and truffles. You have to wonder why anyone would leave.

In winter, Grožnjan hosts a permanent population of 43. In summer, the place is a pilgrimage for artists. Poets, writers, artists, and musicians flock to the village, swelling the residency to a heady capacity of 650.

With views of the ocean to the west and the mountains to the east as you walk through the windy cobblestone streets, it is easy to imagine Hemingway or Plath writing in one of the villas, Bukowski pouring out verse, or Whitely painting the next American Dream.

Our villa is beautiful. It has an eat-in kitchen and lounge on the bottom floor and a bedroom with a bathtub, fireplace, and French windows on the second floor.

We settle in and Shell makes a reservation at a nearby restaurant, Konoba Rino.

Konoba Rino specialises in the local pasta, fuži, dressed in cream and truffles.

Alongside the fuži, gnocchi with Istriana ox.

We share beef fillet cooked over a charcoal grill in truffles and garlic, with sides of potato, mushrooms, and spinach.

The fuži is outstanding. I guess you could argue that it is just another variation on pasta, but drenched in garlic cream and more truffle than I have ever seen in a single serve – incredible.

The gnocchi is light and delicious. The ox is slow braised and comes in a rich gravy.

Finally, the steak and sides. Swimming in truffle, the steak is done over the charcoal grill. It is hard to decide what flavour dominates, truffle or steak. Superb.

We drive home as the sun is setting. It is hard to describe the colours. Oranges, reds, and purples. I am colourblind and still manage to be impressed.

A panoramic view all the way to the ocean.

Dubai is a distant memory.

We stroll around the deserted streets. It is only 6.00 pm and we don’t see another soul.

It feels like a fairy tale. The temperature is below zero, the air is clean, and everything you look at seems in complete focus.

Home and we sit around and chat.

I read until my eye gets sore.

Bed.

This will be the last blog post till Grant’s eye is better as the screen is making everything hurt more. Today we will try to find an eye Dr….everything has been shut over Christmas, but hopefully something is open today.