Croatia will become part of the European Union in July this year following a referendum in which Croats voted for membership by a two to one margin. What will this mean for travellers?

As the 28th member state of the European Union it can be expected that the current Croat currency, the kuna, will be replaced by the euro. EU regulations stipulate that a country must be a member for two years prior to converting to the euro. So while both the euro and kuna are favourable given the high Australian dollar, exchange rates dictate that you will get more bang for your buck by spending the kuna. And with EU membership comes an easing of border restrictions which can only further it’s attraction to travellers. So now is the time to go – before the proverbial floodgates open.

The best way to understand this stunning nation and its village culture is to set sail on its waters, where an unspoilt island is only ever a few hours’ sail away. There are 66 inhabited islands in Croatia and the country has almost a cult following among boating enthusiasts. Travelling in August, there were hundreds of yachts chartered by honey-hued Swedes as part of a two-week tour around the Adriatic called Yacht Week.

Seeing the Croatian archipelago by yacht is the definition of holiday freedom. You can drop anchor in bays, inlets and harbours that are untouched by humans and accessible only to boats and mountain goats. The water is so salty that you float irresistibly to the surface, regardless of how much you had for lunch – made in the galley kitchen. One of the most memorable meals I had in Croatia came courtesy of the local skipper’s ingenious technique of cooking pasta in sea water after dunking a saucepan off the edge of the yacht, with the briny water matching the fresh caught seafood marvellously.

Croatia has a bloody history that has seen invasions over millennia as it sits between Europe and Asia. That history has left an indelible mark upon the nation, in particular the islands. It is the islands that have borne the brunt of marauders from not so friendly neighbours. Which is no bad thing for tourists today, who can revel in villages and towns on the islands that take their architectural cues from Byzantine, Venetian, Greek, Austrian and British occupation.

HVAR

Hvar is the glamour puss of the Croatian islands. Word on the street – or should I say harbour – was that Beyonce and Jay-Z had moored here the night before our yacht dropped anchor. Hvar Town has a u-shaped harbour that permits many yachts to settle down for the night. But it is popular, so you’re not always guaranteed a mooring. Get there early and hope for the best.  

Our yacht was parked next to a five-level super yacht owned by an Italian family on the right and a slightly smaller yacht with ten Swedish lads to the left. Between the noise of nearby club Carpe Diem and the parties on both our neighbour’s yachts, Hvar Town is the place you come to let your hair down. The palm edged promenade is reminiscent of Monaco or Cannes, minus the exorbitant price tags. The city is overlooked by a 16th century fort and beyond the boundary lies the rest of the island, which is peppered with lavender fields and vineyards protected by steep rocky hills.  

VIS

Vis has been voted one of the best islands in the world. But steer clear of Vis town and set sail for Komiza on the southern side of the island. Komiza is serene yet rousing enough to make you wish you had an idle three months in summer, an apartment and a creative project to dabble with. The travel is easy – by foot through the cobbled alleyways where purple bougainvillea droops or by boat where the sea is so clear your vessel looks like it is suspended mid-air.  

Choosing dinner at a local restaurant is just as easy as well. One night we go to an unmarked restaurant up a steep set of narrow stairs. There are five tables on this terrace, and it feels more like a friend’s home that a restaurant. With no menu, I order the meat dish of the day – a slab of steak on white bread which stains red as I eat. It is a cuisine that is the product of poverty, with all meals served with utter simplicity and restraint. But the quality of the produce makes every meal sing. In the daytime, do as local elderly men do and follow the sun’s shade with plastic chairs and games of chess.

KORCULA

It was here that one of the yacht party lost their sunglasses, only for the skipper to free dive at least four metres under and swim up with glasses in hand. The water is that clear. Legend has it that Marco Polo was born in Korcula with the Museum of Marco Polo marking the site of his birth. Korcula town is a walled medieval city with fortress towers and narrow walkways.  

It is down one of these cobbled alleys that we found a restaurant that was more like a kitchen with an outside seating area – casual, with aproned women cooking through a flyscreen door. With only three tables and no menu it makes for an exclusive eating establishment. We order fish of the day and five minutes later a local fisherman comes up to the kitchen’s back door with a bucket. We choose the largest fish from the bucket and 30 minutes later it appears on a platter edged with potatoes, zucchini and lemon. Food doesn’t come much fresher.

BRAC

Home to the most photographed beach in Croatia, you cannot visit and avoid the curiously named Zlatni Rat (it sounds a lot better said in a Croatian accent). The beach is a long V-shaped affair that points into the blue yonder and is loved by beach-goers and wind-surfers. Bol is the closest village and has space for mooring yachts.  

We arrived late to Brac and there were no places to rope into the harbour so we sink anchor in the open water, necessitating the use of a inflatable boat to access the town of Bol. Trilling crickets become louder the closer you draw to the shore and nocturnal felines scamper throughout the streets. On the ground, al fresco cafes sit alongside high stone walls that cats peer down from. The sun sets off a light show that I have only ever seen in the Croatian islands. Paris might have its blue hour but Croatia has its caramel hour. The cream buildings turn toffee and the Adriatic glints with splices of gold.