The Adriatic port, on the northernmost part of Croatia, manages a vanishing trick with the hundreds of thousands who flock there during the summer months. There’s enough out-of-town development to house several armies, but once you’re actually in Porec itself the crowds seem to melt away and you’re left with the town that one Roman historian called “the jewels of a young girl’s diadem”.

I’m tempted to say things haven’t changed much since then but one colleague remembers it being attractive but slightly grim during the grey Tito era. Now it’s cast off its inhibitions and welcomes tourist by the plane load – although I did spot several Tito t-shirts for sale, plus a preponderance of lethal-looking BB guns for sale along the seafront promenade.

The old town, built on a penisula which juts out into the sea like a camel’s neck basically consists of one long street – but what a street. It’s pedestrian only so that the marble which still paves it is so polished you can almost see your face in it. Narrow alleyways lead off on every side and roman towers and battlements pierce the skyline.

Hidden, halfway along is the basilica of St Euphrasius, a Byzantine masterpiece that’s on the Unesco list of world heritage sites. This isn’t history in a guide book, it’s history under your feet, in front of your fingers and – in the best possible way – in your face.

Pay the small fee as we did and climb to the top of the basilica and you’re able to see how adroitly the Croatians have managed to cope with 21st-century crowds.

The wooded hills that stretch to the north and south of the port are alive with the sound of Croation kunas being spent. The development is vast, but amazingly unobtrusive. We stayed at the Plava Laguna Holiday Centre to the south of the town which consisted of blocks of apartments dotted along the hillside, all with a splendid view of the Adriatic. Inside there were two bedrooms, a lounge, balcony, bathoom and a small kitchenette.

Near the centre’s office and next to a superb pre-revolutionary manor house there was a vast swimming pool. This was important as although Croatia has many attractions - beaches aren’t one of them. They do rocky inlets, they do stony coves, they do man-made diving platforms, but you’d be hard-pressed to find more than a thermos-full of sand on the couple of miles coastline between Laguna and Porec.

This didn’t seem to put off many of the visitors, especially the Russians who occupied the aprtment next to ours. Each morning, dead on 8am the husband and wife would march down to sea and plunge straight in - whatever the weather was like.

For us namby-pamby English, the pool with its water jets and leisurely aquarobic classes seemed a safer bet.

It was by sea however that we were able to complete one of the higlights of our stay – a day trip to Venice. Of all the ways of getting to this amazing city, water is considered one of the best. However this has to be tempered with the fact that you’re arriving in a high-powered hydrofoil, ie, an enclosed cocoon, rather than the open boat which tradition demands

So there’s no wind on your face and the only spray come from the overfull cups of coffee of the passengers on the neighbouring seats. But you do tie up at the quay and it’s only a short walk to St Mark’s Square. Then after lunch, a whirlwind tour and the essential ride on the gondola you’re whisked back to the slightly more sobering delights of Porec.

Not that you leave all things Italians behind in Porec. The Italians once owned the place (the history of this part of Croatia has more comings, goings and surprise developments than an Old Vic panto) and happily they left behind lots of Italian favourites, like ice cream and pizza. The ice cream comes in more flavours than you can shake a bread stick at and the pizzas are glorious - thin, crisp and, if you're hungry, as big as a cartwheel.

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