If the past decade has seen a boom in city breaks to imposing eastern bloc capitals with cheap pints served by supermodel waitresses, perhaps the next decade will see the east steal away Europe’s regular beach-baskers. Croatia already makes a compelling pitch with its seductive Slavic low-cost costas.

As the crowds, prices and pretensions threaten to make so many western Mediterranean resorts intolerable, the former Yugoslav republic is hoping to reap a peace dividend. Ten years after the war, Croatia is re-established on the tourist map and eagerly anticipating its inevitable accession to the European Union.

Istria, the peninsula on the north-western coast, escaped the ravages of the war, but felt the cost in a decimated tourist industry. It has been the first area to benefit from the recovery and in high summer can feel positively Rimini like.

The Croatians, though, try a little harder than their jaded Mediterranean counterparts. The waiters are more attentive and teenagers are less likely to whizz by on scooters within an inch of your ankles.

Often by accident, the country evokes better-known destinations the other side of the Adriatic, from its excellent thin and crispy pizzas to the way car drivers abuse each other. Happily, though, the signs are Croatia is beginning to have more confidence in its identity.

Acclimatise yourself to the Istrian coast with a visit to Porec, the nation’s most popular resort. This is a region devoted to holidaymaking and yet you will struggle to find the cynicism that can prevail in western European tourist destinations. Instead it’s a relaxed and welcoming place with little of the hustle and bustle you expect in a resort.

Porec benefits from a fortuitous layout, where most of the large hotels and beaches are a little out of town to the south and along a coast that has been developed with sensitivity. The restaurants and shops are concentrated in the attractive, pedestrianised old town, which is packed in high summer, but small enough for the crowds to seem like an attractive buzz.

The old town also benefits from having one of Croatia’s most impressive historical sights.

The Byzantine Euphrasius Basilica is a miraculously preserved edifice dominated by the sixth- century iconic mosaics of the virgin and child, women saints, Christ and the apostles. The colours and light are fabulous, the work the equal of anything to be seen in the better-known Byzantine churches in Ravenna and Istanbul.

The basilica is reason enough to visit Porec, but the majority of visitors are here for the beaches. It’s an easy walk south out of town to the resort area of Zelena Laguna. You can explore the beaches to the north or beyond the lagoon, but be aware this coastline is among Europe’s most popular destinations for naturists. Every day busloads hurtle south from Munich or Stuttgart, eager to rip off the lederhosen and expose every inch of Teutonic flesh to southern European elements.

If the Porec crowds get a little too pressing in high season, there is a retreat offshore. The Riviera ferry idles out to Sveta Nikola island from the town harbour every half hour or so. From the jetty, paths through wooded glades take you round to the seaward side of the island and secluded paths lead down to flat rocks where you can hide from the hordes and have a leisurely swim in the Adriatic.

For a stronger sense of Istria’s history and its centuries of subservience to Venice, you have to travel an hour down the coast from Porec to Rovinj, Istria’s cultural jewel.

The Latin name of Rovigno might seem the more appropriate for this town, because this a slice of Venice that has floated south. Defined and limited by the sea (the old town was an island until they linked it to the mainland in the 18th century), it is a warren of cobbled streets leading steeply up to the substantial Venetian baroque church of St Euphemia, with its outsized bell tower. The tower is a jealous copy of the parent city’s version in St Mark’s Square, looking down on the whole coastline.

Where Istria looks happily westward, the Kvarner region, just a couple of hours’ drive to the east, is a reminder of the Austro- Hungarian Hapsburg heritage. The pristine coastal town of Opatija isn’t so much a resort as a bathing place, still 19th-century enough to cater for austere-looking Teutonic dowagers sipping coffee and nibbling at lavish cream cakes alongside the Adriatic swimsuit babes.

Restored or just well-preserved, Opatija has a preponderance of 19th-century mini-palaces and villas, stylish and formal, emphasising this is no vulgar summer resort but a place of elegant retreat. Indeed, if you want to have a dip in the sea, you have to make use of the extensive promenade heading west out of town to a series of small beaches on the way to the equally attractive village of Lovran.

It’s about three miles from Opatija to Lovran, with restaurants, beach bars and ice-cream stands punctuating the route. The atmosphere is what the old British seaside holiday used to be about, with family groups frolicking in the sea and sending the children off to queue for ice cream (or beer). The weather, however, tends to be a little better than Rothesay.

The town is crammed onto a thin strip between cliffs and sea, the mountains rising precipitously behind. On a cooler day you can make the strenuous but rewarding climb up Vojak, 4,000ft above the peninsula, from where, ambitious locals claim, you can see the lights of Venice.

In Opatija the nightlife is strictly seasonal and predominantly Euro-tacky. The hotels offer staid shows, with pianists and chanteuses evoking that effortless air of Euro-melancholy that David Bowie aspired to on his Berlin albums.

The restaurants make a decent stab at catering for their international clientele, but happily are not too slick. The Admiral Taverna down by the marina promises an English menu with the enticing highlight of “Captain’s frog-fish chops”.

The Gostiana Istranka, by the market and a block up from the coast road, is a more local establishment, specialising, as the name implies, in gourmet Istrian delicacies. Try the fuži sa tartufima, hand-rolled pasta tubes scented with truffle oil and topped with shaved truffle and parmesan.

Aromatic, rich and bosky, it’s the sort of dish that would require a second mortgage in London or a decent credit card limit in Italy, but here is a modestly priced starter for about £5. For the carbohydrate overdose, follow up with the gulas juneci, a tender beef goulash served in classic Slavic style with dumplings.

You sense this kind of traditional cuisine is under threat from the ubiquity of Italian food. A new generation has grown up on pizza and gelati and is wary of the Slavic culinary heritage. Visitors should attempt to get an inkling of the old ways. It’s worth at least seeking out burek, dense savoury pastries stuffed with spiced meat or cheese with origins in the Middle East as much as eastern Europe, hugely calorific and seemingly serving the same purpose as a hangover cure in Croatia as a Greggs steak bake does in Glasgow.

In summer, though, it is just as easy to stock up on bread and salad at the supermarket and take a picnic to the beach. Every town of any size has a branch of the supermarket chain Konzum, its sign compelling to Croatians to spend, spend, spend after all those decades of communist austerity.

The coast road from Opatija down to Pula is a beautiful drive, precipitous curves allowing the passengers to admire the seven shades of blue reflecting off the Adriatic. Drivers, though, should keep their eyes on the road in anticipation of an oncoming bus hogging all the road at a hairpin bend.

Pula’s extravagant Roman amphitheatre is a perfect place to wave farewell to Istria. The sixth largest in the world, it is a stark, sun-blasted monument to the visceral attitude the Romans took to entertainment.

On the scorching afternoon I visited, a party of German archeologists was examining the stonework, American high-school kids were gee-whizzing on the sand and Croatian models were posing for a calendar by the ancient pillars.

That eclectic grouping offered as fair a snapshot of Istria’s exuberant recovery as you could wish for.







Details: Getting there: Flyglobe span (08705 561 522 and www.fly globespan.com) flies weekly from Glasgow and Edinburgh to Pula with return fares from £129.60 including taxes.



Staying there: In Porec the Neptun charges £59 for a double room in August and September, including breakfast and taxes. Call 00385 52 465 100, www.riviera.hr. In Opatija, the Bristol’s prices start at £113 for a double room in August and September, including breakfast and taxes. Call 00385 51 706 300, www.hotel-bristol.hr.



Croatian National Tourist Office, 0208 563 7979, www.croatia.hr

Browse travel offers at Times Selects