Croatia’s Rab Island Gleams in the Adriatic

It’s hard to imagine more frolicsome beachcombers than those darting through the waves on Croatia’s Lopar beaches. Not a care in the world, not a stitch on their bodies.

The pebbly beaches of Rab Island in the Northern Adriatic have been naturist draws for more than 70 years. Their fame rocketed in 1936 when England’s King Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson stripped down to the altogether in Kandalora Bay in a spot that’s still nicknamed English Bay.

Thousands of sun worshippers come each year, buffing up their tans at Ciganka, Sahara and Stolac Beaches. But naturists claim only three of Lopar’s 22 beaches, so there’s lots of sand and waves for the fully suited, too.

As popular as it is with summer’s swimmers, scuba divers and sailors, Rab Island has nearly year-round appeal. History fans come to trace her Roman roots and admire her 900-year-old churches.

Gardeners and birders follow the scent of pine to vast Komrcar Park. And travelers who have no agenda other than relaxation can find just the spot at her harborside. Sink into a comfy chair beneath a white canopy, armed with a carafe of local red wine, and watch the world drift by on a clear Adriatic current.

Rab Island is the centerpiece of a new tour by Intrepid Travel, an Australian adventure travel company that offers 400 trips to more than 90 different destinations around the world. The firm provides bare-bones hotel and transport support, then it’s up to the individual to make it the best holiday possible.

Intrepid emphasizes responsible travel, using local buses and ferries, booking mom-and-pop guest houses and recommending local independent restaurants.

This do-it-yourself vacation is like picking out a pattern and having a tailor cut and baste the cloth. Then it’s up to you to stitch all the seams. If you’re particularly ambitious, feel free to embroider away.

Intrepid travelers are encouraged to live like locals, supporting their stores and restaurants. We traveled exclusively on public ferries and buses. On a city bus in Split, an older gentleman graciously made it clear he didn’t mind my bag flopping into his space. I try out my Croatian thank you—hvala (“v-FAL-a”)—on him.

We shift to another bus from Split to Zadar, and I’m able to return the favor. I help an older woman adjust her seat and she rewards me with a Croatian peppermint. We share sweets on and off for the four-hour trip. I’m getting pretty quick with my hvalas.

Croatians Are Quick to Converse—in English

Most everyone I meet is open and friendly, and since most Croatians begin studying English in the third grade, quick to converse. When language gets in the way, my three words of Croatian seem to ease the way into the international language of gestures and smiles.

On Rab Island, I gesture and “hvala” away, and find it the best spot of the trip. Old Town rises from the harbor on ancient stone streets, up to an ecclesiastical ridge of medieval churches and Rab’s famous four bell towers. This is a great place to get lost, twisting down this alley, cutting into that alcove. Follow the salt air and look down hundreds of feet below the ramparts into translucent waves.

After I pop into the early morning fish market, seafood seems to be the thing to have—the aroma of sautéing fish is always on the air. One of the best bets is creamy bouillabaisse at Alibaba restaurant, bolstered by a Greek salad and soft wheat bread, baked on the spot.

Croatia is a bread-crazed culture, but some of its bakery bits look better than they taste. A great exception is the Rabska Torte, a chewy almond cake with a few secret ingredients dating to 1177.

Vendor Vilma Spadic reveals it has lemon and orange zest, as well as a dash of maraschino cherry liqueur from Croatia’s Zadar region. You don’t need a recipe detective to know it’s perfect with a cappuccino beside the Rab marina.

Refueled, it’s time to climb the tower at St. John the Evangelist and see three of Rab Island’s legendary bell towers from her fourth. Scurry from side to side to take in the harbor on one hand and an ocean inlet on the other.

Wander off the bell-tower ridge and directly into the cool, dark forest of Komcrar. Pravdoje Belija arrived in Rab in 1883 as head forester, and quickly started planting laurels, poplars, cypress, pine, rosemary and agaves. This is the place for a bike ride, along twisted lanes, or a picnic, at little stone tables with drop-dead views of the Adriatic below.

Who knows, maybe that luscious water will prove so seductive you’ll find yourself peeling off at English Bay, just like the King of England and his wild divorcee. Just tuck your crown and tiara under your towels.