This weeks for The Love of Travel essay arrives from the sun-drenched shores of Korčula, written as a letter to our Editor-in-Chief, Milo, by Adrijana Husić. Croatian gems are always beautiful, but here they’re brought to life through her own memories, encounters, and the poetry of lived experience. Her words linger like the Adriatic light: soft, reflective, and full of feeling; inviting you to see the island not as a destination, but as a story unfolding.
Voice Message from Korcula Island – Coming to Korčula means coming to yourself
Well, well. This could’ve been a voice message if you didn’t detest them so much. So, you’re reading it instead — and somewhere in between these lines, you’re missing the sound of Adriatic waves in the port of Orebić. I’m sure you’re wondering now — why, what, where, how.
The smell of the Adriatic before the season starts hits differently. That’s why you came to my mind while I was waiting for the ferry to Korčula this weekend. Ten minutes on the ferry from Orebić and you’re there.
I know you’re wondering why Croatia again. I know — we both love Montenegro, and we have our own coast, and there is nothing that can beat the love we feel for Montenegro and Boka Bay, especially. Still, Croatia and its islands are a completely different game — a different frequency that I think you would enjoy as much as I have for several years now.
Did you know that the ancient Greeks called Korčula Black Corfu because of its dense forests? No wonder it reminds me a little of Montenegro. One of the greenest islands in the Adriatic, and you feel that the moment you arrive. Not quite Mljet Island, but it can compete. And — fun fact — Marco Polo was supposedly born here too. Neither of us is going into the historical debate, but it is worth exploring a little more, even though it is not history that brought me here for the second time.
I know you love Dubrovnik, Milo, but I really dare you to come to the islands instead. Even once. I promise you will fall in love and see how differently they hit. Slower, cleaner, with this Mediterranean energy — the seventies, eighties summer vacation vibe, easy-going, with its own natural charm.
My April and May were quite hectic, and I needed something to reboot. I knew the weather could be unpredictable — and I was right. It wasn’t the very best. These seventy-two hours brought all four seasons with them. Regardless, the island was amazing. It played its role — like one of the main actors in a seventy-two-hour movie. And it helped me find my balance.
Probably because in every corner of this island you breathe nature. Is it the food? Is it the whole ambience? It’s something completely different. You can easily smell the sea here. And not only that — rosemary and sage all around you. The olive oil is… my gosh! One of the finest in the Adriatic, and everything is fresh. The same goes for the meat and the fish. No matter what you eat, you enjoy every single bite.
You remember I mentioned Konoba Maha? One of those places I like to return to. Rather tucked away, completely natural, and it brings the best of Korčula and the Adriatic. The service, the food — everything tastes like nobody cut corners. Mediterranean Croatian cooking well thought through and presented in the best possible way. Fresh fish, great meat, and a setup that reminds you a little of Italy. The kind of dinner where you really don’t want your phone with you. Dinner only, and a Michelin star waiting to happen, I’m sure of it.
Our beloved companion, the weather, had its own plans. We were greeted with a heavy storm — thunder, lightning, you name it, all night long. The temperature kept shifting — warm, then suddenly cold, then warm again — as if the island itself couldn’t make up its mind. A disco for itself.
Morning turned out even better — or worse, depending on how you look at it. We could hear people getting ready for cycling around the island while it was pouring cats and dogs outside. Jelena and I decided to stay on the terrace, enjoy breakfast overlooking the old town of Korčula, and wonder when the hell this was going to stop and whether we’d manage to walk a little during this extended weekend.
You would do the same, right? Cycling is not for us — I’m sure it wouldn’t be for you either. But we did take the car in the afternoon and drove to Vela Luka. Full bonaca energy, easy-going Mediterranean life, and amazing ice cream to end the day and celebrate the sun that blessed us with its presence.
These kinds of getaways are also amazing for finally finishing the book you’ve been dragging around for months. You remember — in Dubai, I brought with me We’ll Prescribe You a Cat, the cosy Japanese novel. I finally finished it here. I would prescribe it to you as well.
On the way back from Vela Luka, I was telling my friend how amazing it is that on such a rather small island, you can find caves dating back to 18,000 BC, layers of history and nature all around you. Korčula is like that. Quietly extraordinary.
I’m still in my detoxing phase, so I missed the wineries this time — but on the way, I reminded myself of Grk, which has its home right here. A grape grown only in the sandy soils of Lumbarda, found nowhere else. Think of our Kratošija, but white. I know you would love that.
And I know you would love Korčula itself — because you would never feel bored here. It’s calm but alive. You can have an active holiday or simply soak up the sun. The variety of beaches is worth the trip alone — and I say that as someone who spent most of this visit in the rain, going on a memory lane back to Pupnatska luka two years ago, and the bluest, cleanest sea I have ever seen in my life on nearby Proizd island.
Korčula’s old town is not the largest — don’t come expecting Dubrovnik. But it is cinematic. The streets are laid out like a fishbone, angled precisely to catch the sea breeze and break the harsh winds. Small shops, lovely haze, and the smell of lavender that follows you. And strolling around the external walls of the old town, along the fortress perimeter, with the sea right there beside you, takes you past some of the best restaurants and cafés on the island.
We had ice cream at Pepper & Choco in the old town. And it was not only about the taste and the playful plates and bowls, but also about the service and energy of the place. The waiter alone was worth the stop — his voice, the easiness of his moves, the way he interacted with guests were all authentic, adding to these seventy-two hours in Korčula that were nothing but complete bliss, despite the weather and the already very much needed SPF. You know me — this aristocratic white skin has its own rules.
I know you will not listen to my voice message, but a new moon weekend means new beginnings and new things — so one can hope, right?
You remember the contract we signed, a long time ago? We managed to fulfil exactly zero articles from it. But maybe now, with this new moon, we try again. I’m sending you this and hoping you’ll listen to the voice message at some point, and that between the two, something will bring you to Korčula eventually.
And if you have any doubts — put on Ash of Mosaïque while you’re reading this. It might work well as a replacement for the sound of Adriatic waves.
