A Virgin experience: The Olive Oil Museum in Pula

Nothing gets us middle-aged folk out of a rut and onto the road like a visit from our adult (grad school) daughter. She had the Olive Oil museum on her to-see list since we spotted it about a year ago on a January visit to Pula (the only month it is closed). It was also scheduled to rain heavily the whole weekend, so an indoor pursuit was perfect.

The museum is pretty close to Pula's famous Roman amphitheatre, and clearly signposted. You can opt for a visit only, or add a regular or "gold" tasting experience at the end (which includes a "surprise" dessert). We chose gold, since it was our only stop for the day and we'd waited a year for this excitement.

The museum isn't large - really just an exhibition hall - but it's packed with information on the history and production of olive oil in the region over the past two thousand years. As far as I could make out, the audio guide isn't much more than the info on the boards, but I soon gave up on it, as usual - am I the only one who can't cope with simultaneously looking at and listening to information? However, the child's one kept the four year-old happy and practising his numbers.

So, onto interesting facts. When the Romans expanded down into the Istrian region, they quickly established olive growing. Did you know that they graded their olive oil? Or that for centuries, oil was separated by the process of pouring hot water on it, so that it would rise to the top and could be skimmed off? The best was from young, green olives and the worst, from damaged fruit, was used for lamps and given to slaves. Although villas were abandoned as the empire collapsed, olive oil kept its value as a local product, as witnessed by the legislation - and legal disputes - that abounded in the middle ages over growing rights. During the Venetian period, the new empire tried to restrict the passage of olive oil, to ensure it kept its share of the profit, so a smuggling route grew up via the Trieste region (which I presume took in Koper, where we live).

Istria is often overlooked as an olive-growing region, but it has been gaining a reputation for its high quality, often organic, oils. This is about the farthest north you can grow olives and it's claimed that makes them better. I'm not an olive expert, but chemical analysis of the health-giving properties (polyphenols) of olives just puts the Istrian varieties on top, with Spain a close second. Sorry, Greece.

After we perused the museum, our host took us into the tasting room. The first round (which is what you get with a basic tasting) consisted of two real extra virgin olive oils, plus a generic plastic bottle from the supermarket. We had a helpful vocabulary list up on a projector, though I don't know how I was supposed to identify artichoke or olive leaves. The first things we noticed about the single blend was that it smelled of grass - apparently that's a good thing. The surprise was swallowing it and getting a burning sensation in the back of the throat - also apparently a good thing.

Then on to the supermarket oil, plus the (non) virgin truth - most of the cheap extra virgin olive oil you buy is in fact just a small amount of the real thing, cut with the chemically-refined worst grade, which is called lampante, from the reference to the oil the Romans deemed only good enough for lamps (and slaves). I'd like to pretend I was instinctively gourmet, but I'm going to confess that if I hadn't just been educated about it, I might have thought the second one tasted like olive oil is 'supposed' to and that the first had something wrong with it. We also (okay, me) felt sort of guilty that only the day before, Ted had come home triumphant from a supermarket trip in Italy with a bargain five-litre plastic bottle of 'extra virgin' olive oil. Well, it's good or cooking.

You'll see from the photos that we got our oil in dishes, but for official tastings they come in little blue glass jars (there's one in front of the tray) so that the colour is masked.

Proceedings were briefly interrupted by Alcuin deciding to get down from the bar stool by just hopping off, and promptly hitting the ground. Luckily not hard enough to produce screams.

For the next round, our host introduced us to a selection of five oils, ranging from "grassy" to "bitter", and including blends and a local oil. Honestly, I could not pick a best. I think my olive-oil tasting muscles need honing.

Rounding it off was a special dessert, which consisted of the local fresh cheese (similar to ricotta), topped with creamed flower honey and a slice of dried fig. And the finishing touch was a few drops of olive oil of our choice. Pretty good.

We left with two bottles of good olive oil (plus a face cream), better educated on all the questions I have never asked on olive oil, and with a couple of new places on our to-visit list after reading all the info about the region -  plus the sun had come out, so I'd call that successful.

Sculpture by Josip Diminić

Touristy stuff. Here's the website for the museum. I had to look elsewhere for the actual hours, and called before we left to make sure. Like most things in Croatia, it's pretty cheap if you are used to UK/US prices - the gold tasting was 130 kunas per adult (about 18 euros/ 15 pounds/ 19 dollars). If you are taking a longer vacation, there are several sights in Pula (see this tourism site), plus some beaches a little away from the town that I have on local authority are nice. It's definitely a place on our standard visitors list.

Zagreb: totally stuffed

I meant to post this earlier, but after a good start to January, three quarters of us were struck down with a flu-like virus. However, since I expected us to get far sicker in the move to a new country, I am not complaining. So, back to the Croatia vacation...

Our last destination in the Krapina region was decided by Robocar Poli. That is, Maribor had been on our list, but every time I turned on Youtube for Alcuin's current favourite show, there were ads for the Advent Market in Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, which has apparently been voted best in Europe for several years - and was only about 40 minutes away from our AirBnb. And so, for one of the very few times in my life, I succumbed to direct advertising.

I'm not sure exactly what I expected of Zagreb. The name, of course, conjures up stereotypical eastern European images of a grim, post-communist concrete wilderness.

Walking with Neanderthals

Only true nerds plan an entire holiday around their daughter's desire to go to a Neanderthal museum (and then blog about it), but that's why we ended up in the Krapina region in December. And since it's over two hours from Koper and we weren't going to be popping back, we also booked a guided tour. Mysteriously, our elder daughter didn't feel well enough to come. In her defense, she went back to bed and didn't get up until we got back mid afternoon. Or so she said.

Krapina Neanderthal Museum: Reconstruction Atelier Daynes. Photo by Davorin Vujčić.

The museum is built on the site of a famous paleoanthropological (early human) excavation. As with many of our adventures at museums and tourist attractions around here, we were the only visitors this day, and got a personal tour from Professor Uvodić, the senior educator at the museum.

Krapina

No, I'm not talking about a bad end to the year, but our trip to the Krapina region of Croatia. Since I had been holding down the fort for much of November and December while Ted went on two business trips, and our eldest child was arriving from the US for Christmas and New Year, we decided to have a little family pre-Christmas holiday, and the Krapina region checked all our boxes: spas, castles, museums and Christmas markets.

The drive there was uneventful, especially for me, who got to sit in the back seat and let our adult daughter be the co driver  - until we got to the border crossing. The guard skimmed through all the passports, until she got to my husband's. Then she shook her head and said he wasn't allowed through here - it was a local crossing, apparently, and non-EU citizens couldn't cross. We didn't even know there was such a thing. Not even his Slovenian residency card melted her heart - so we turned around and wended our way to the international crossing.

All cottage photo credits from FB page: emakucazaodmor

We rented an Airbnb cottage in the small village of Tuheljske Toplice. Just having two storeys and not being in an apartment was a nice change - as was having a fitted kitchen. There's a balcony running along one side of the house, so the children could go out and scrape snow off the roof which they proceeded to stuff down each other's necks (we just missed a snowfall - the weather got pretty mild while we were there). The place was heated with a wood stove, which had an ingenious vent system taking the hot air through the house. It was a lovely feature, except when it came to debating who had to get up first in the morning to light the fire. We also appreciated the mountain of towels (there were three women in the house - enough said).

We decided to take things easy the first day, and headed off to Krapinske Toplice, for the Aquae Vivae spa. There are lots of thermal hot springs in this area, and consequently lots of spa towns. If this conjures up images of Jane Austen and bath chairs, think again: someone around here had the bright idea of going beyond the health resorts and building water parks over the springs. There were bathing and exercise pools, a wave pool, children's area, water slide, even a scuba diving pool. The fun part in winter is swimming into the outside pool, luxuriating in the hot water when the air is freezing. The other fun part (for everyone else) was the big water slide. However, remembering my rule of two minutes of bravery a day, I had a go. It wasn't too scary. Actually, I was such a wimp that I didn't lie down properly, so I sort of shuffled rather than slid.

Mural in the lobby.

The girls also tried out the wave pool, which was okay, until when I pondered out loud how they were doing, my husband quipped, "Probably drowning,", which roused their little brother into a rescue mission. He insisted I rush him across the spa, shouting "Sisters! Sisters!" The sight of his siblings tossing in the massive waves did nothing to reassure him. "Beatrice! Don't drown!" he yelled. Thankfully she escaped death and came to "shore". After all that excitement, Alcuin had to be dragged to lunch, declaring he wasn't hungry. Except when we sat down, he realised he was starving, and had a meltdown. Since he was wielding a sachet of ketchup, it was not  a pretty outcome.

After lunch, elder daughter went for a massage and we mostly hung out at the children's pool, which was so shallow, my husband lay back with his head on the edge and fell asleep while Alcuin bobbed about in his swim ring and occasionally swam over his father to wake him up. We would have stayed longer, but we didn't want to drive back in the dark and sleet on winding roads, so mid-afternoon, we had to pull our simmered, wrinkly selves out and get on home. First one in gets to light the fire...

Look, they're alive!

Touristy stuff: Here's the link for our Airbnb cottage. We would definitely recommend it. It is well stocked with amenities, plus lots of toys and games. The parking area is down a steep slope, so we parked on the side of the road. Also, if it matters to you, the shower is a small wet room area by the side of the toilet, fine for adults, a little harder for small ones. But Alcuin got a week's worth of baths at the spa, so that was OK.

Here's the link for Aquae Vivae, and the spa that is closest to the house we rented. We think winter is the best time for a spa visit - you get to luxuriate in warm water when it's cold outside, and it's much less crowded. It cost us 240 kunas (32 euros, 29 pounds, 37 dollars) for three adults and two children for day tickets, plus three of us rented bath robes for the day, but in retrospect we could have done without them.
(Don't forget to pack your body lotion like I did - I have to admit I was a little itchy for a couple of days after soaking off a layer of skin.)

How do you Poreč?

You know, perhaps, how it is when you are planning a day trip: you go online or pull out the guidebooks, or both, in search of the ten/ twelve things you must do when in a certain place. When a site lists five and two of them aren´t actually in the town itself, perhaps you should be warned to plan your day differently...

Anyhow, we first visted Poreč, along the coast from us in Croatia, ten years ago, and it sticks in my mind for two reasons: one, I left feeling I had not done the place justice, and two, an infamous incident which was sort of related to the first. Having wandered around and not really done much other than stare in the windows of closed shops, we were about to leave when we realised the tide had gone out enough for the girls to play down at the sea. Our eldest, about twelve then, gathered up a collection of sea shells which we boxed up and took home. Some time later that evening, there was an ominous scratching coming from the box, and we opened it to find that a dozen previously very shy hermit crabs had emerged and were scuttling about. After some futile debate involving salinating tap water, my husband had to drive down to Koper beach under cover of darkness to wreak havoc on the ecosystem. I still sometimes wonder if we changed the course of evolution that night.

Where did that toddler head come from?

Fast forward ten years. We had planned to go to Poreč on Saturday, but the toddler was knocked out with a cold on Friday, so we waited a day, even though I was leery that most places would be shut, Croatia being a pretty devout Catholic country. But we hadn´t ventured far from Koper for ages, bogged down in school/ kindergarten administration, so we decided to give it a go. Crossing the border was pretty uneventful - the guard almost thought about opening our passports, then decided he couldn´t be bothered. The previous crossing was much more eventful. We were in a loaned car then, and we got thoroughly grilled at the border because why else would an Anglo-American family take up residence in Slovenia if not to steal old cars and make a getaway into Croatia?

Croatia, as I am ashamed to say I had to check, is in the EU now (it was not a member last time I was travelling around). In my defence, I was confused because it does not yet have the euro. The currency is the kuna, which I also try to forget because it involves memories of my husband spending money in Croatia and then singing "My kuna´s a goner" to the tune of Hakuna Matata from The Lion King.

Oh yes, Poreč. It is about an hour´s drive from us, and, like much of the region, used to belong to Italy until after WWII. But it was a settlement way before then, including as a Roman town, and with a paleo-Christian community. Wikipedia claims it has been the most visited tourist spot in the region since the 1970s, but to my mind the industry has grown even more since we first visited - that is true up and down the coast now cruises seem to be so wildly popular. I need not have worried about wandering empty streets because all of the shops and restaurants were open. 

Entering the old town is like you have stepped out of the Tardis into some sort of timeline crash: bits of roman columns butting up against a restaurant, a medieval tower turned cafe, a Venetian facade along one side of a square, centuries-old paving worn to a shine by millions of feet, lopsided shop doorways packed with wooden ducks. (I didn´t get the wooden duck thing. Maybe it is a message for time travellers.)

First, we decided to make for the one big nerdy destination, the sixth century basilica, built over the fourth century original, with some rather beautiful mosaics. But, like our last visit, the basilica complex was closed, and there was a service going on in the church. We veered off down the streets, deciding to make for the temple of Neptune instead, quickly getting confused by the criss-crossed streets and aforementioned bits of roman architecture dotted everywhere.

At this point, in the interests of truth, I have to confess to some marital disharmony. When we can´t find a place, I like to stop, consult all available maps, and only move on when I feel confident. My husband´s modus operandi is to just start going in any  feasible direction while he works out the route. There is not a good middle ground on this. Plus, I was coming down with my son´s cold, and the weather turned out to be a lot hotter than forecast, so the combination was not doing much for my temperament.

Like I said. Very Catholic.

Time for a retreat to the sea front and our picnic. Thankfully the people on the shadier bench next to us soon vacated it. As with last time, the sea was right up to the wall so playtime was limited to climbing down the steps to the edge of the water, watching jellyfish float by, or a pipe nose fish hunting smaller fish. We were about to retreat to the shade of town when we spotted a large jellyfish marooned on a jetty - and it was still quivering. I am an animal lover, but it was gross in an alien-movie kind of way. It was probably dying, but of course our daughter felt compelled to help it back into the sea (without touching it). This took a looong time in the direct sun, and involved more gross bits of jelly fish falling off ("It´s multiple organisms! It can survive!") so I hope Saint Francis was taking note.

You are lucky the jellyfish is indistinct here.

Resume mission: to find the temple of Neptune. Easy - if Google maps had been cooperating. There is something to be said for paper maps. After much wandering about, stopping at a random park as a preventative measure before the toddler had a meltdown, and sending my husband out on a scouting party, we got there. It was a small pile of ruins in a grassy square, right by the edge of the sea (who would have guessed?) but hey, it was off our list.

I thought I should have at least one photo from 2018 with me in it.

We got somewhat distracted along the way by an expensive natural beauty shop, where my daughter was somewhat annoyed that I did not fully payroll her purchase. She proceeded to give me a lecture on how important it is not to let terrible chemicals leach into my skin, and while I was at it I should stop shaving my legs and drying out my skin. And then she passed a fast food place and begged for money for a funnel cake because apparently what goes directly into your stomach does not matter. Or something.

Wandering back past the basilica, we decided to peek in again - and the church was open. Success! I have become pretty fond of early Christian mosaics. There is a proliferation of lambs (of God). And lots of shiny gold tiles. Plus, fun detective puzzles as you look at the pictures and abbreviated Latin and guess who is who. That means adults get to appreciate the art and children, even small ones, can be (mildly) entertained. Though actually our son was more interested in the nondescript original floor mosaics open for display below the current (by which I mean sixth century) floor level, because people had dropped things over the rails onto the floor (the coins on purpose I suppose; not so sure about the bottle of water), and I know he was wondering if he could do his bit to destroy history.

A final coffee (surprisingly more expensive than in Slovenia) and we headed home. We took several things back from this trip (but thankfully no hermit crabs - or jellyfish). First, we should admit we are not very good at just wandering around and experiencing the ambiance of a place (though to be fair this is harder when you have small children - or when you are coming down with a cold). Secondly, if we are going to a town where there is not a lot of nerdy things to do, we should plan for a nice meal somewhere rather than be cheap and bring a picnic (because see first point). Third, if you are a planner, be kind to yourself and actually plan. It saves the whole family much angst.

Touristy stuff. As I said, Poreč has become very much a summer tourist destination. It was reasonably busy even though the main summer season is ebbing, so I expect the narrow streets could be extremely crowded earlier in the summer (and really hot). I think we should have scoped out the actual beach options nearby and planned part of the day at one. But tourism and tourist shops aside, the old town is very pretty, with lots of chances to spot architectural gems from Roman ruins forward, and if you are good at wandering, you will really enjoy it. Chasing the Donkey has about the best overview of the area that I have seen (though of course I didn´t scroll down far enough to see that blog before we went). P.S. if you drive, there are two big, convenient car parks literally on the edge of the old town. The grassed one is two whole kunas per hour (24p, 32 cents) cheaper than the paved one.