Hvar-ing a great time!

Hvar from above

There are five kinds of boat owners that dock their boats along the harbour in Hvar: well-off, rich, very rich, stinking rich and crazy bloody wealthy. We mixed with none of them. The boat we arrived on was almost the biggest, but we had to share it with a couple of hundred other people and it didn't have its own helicopter. Still beggers can't be choosers. It got us exactly where we wanted to be and ,anyway, those other boats didn't get a welcoming party of old women with moustaches offering them a room in their house, did they?

Hvar harbour

Hvar is just a small island, but it is THE island to go to in Croatia right now and everyone we'd spoken to raved about it. We'd heard about the Pekleni Islands with hidden coves that were a haven for naturists. We'd heard about the great bars and the beautiful people who party until dawn. And we'd heard that the island enjoyed more than 2500 hours of sunshine a year. We wanted some of it but first we had to find a place to stay.

Beware women with beards/moustache who tell you that they have luxury apartment for four people five minutes walk away. What she means is she has three beds, a couch and a cooktop 15 minutes away, uphill. A much better bet is the guy who looks like your dad and says has two bedrooms only one minute away. Our digs for the next three days were smack bang in the centre of Hvar, with a roof terrace overlooking the city and a big mama who loved to have a good chat, whether you can or want to chat back.

Steve catches some rays

Next we needed sunshine. Hvar is surrounded by beaches, but a better option is to find a quiet spot on the rocks, away from the crowds, with your own carfeully positioned lounge chair and a good book. Maximum distance from the water should be two steps or close enough for you to just roll off the chair and into the crystal clear water.

Carl and Waz doing what they do best: not much

If you're feeling more energetic though (and by energetic I mean, you can be bothered getting in and out of a boat), skipper your own little five horsepower tin boat and leave the millionaires and their spiffy boats in the habour. Head across the strait (and let me tell mixing it with high speed ferries when you in a dinky tin boat is scary), find yourself a nice little cove - preferably one without a crusty old nudist standing on the deck of his boat catching the breeze in his dangly bits - in the Pekleni Islands.

Wazza listening to some tunes in the sun

Drop your anchor, go snorkling, lie in the sun, go for a swim. If you get bored, pull the anchor and head off to find another cove or go inland to one of the little traditional restaurants. It's a tough way to spend a day.

Carl and I take a break from the boat

But don't worry it wasn't all lying about in the sun. We made good use of the great bars, we drank mojitos with the beautiful people at Carpe Diem, we even partied in an old fortress until 4:30am. But, if I'm honest, Steve's really best placed to report on the nightlife in Hvar. After all, he's the one who drank every imaginable concoction of shooters with the staff of a local bar. He's also the one who stumbled home at 6am with a bunch of sea urchin spikes in his foot after an early morning swim with a swedish lass ...