When Hvar Town is good, it is really good. A perfect day in March.
Today was one of those perfect days in Hvar. The sun shone, warmth and peace filled the air. The stone of Hvar Town’s buildings gleamed with pure light. The Pjaca seemed specially inviting. It all had a pleasing air of cleanliness and freshness.
The Venetian lions stood out bravely over the Loggia of the Palace Hotel. I’ve become particularly attached to these lions since I learned that in 1932 they were subjected to generalized destruction in Dalmatia following Mussolini’s declaration that they represented Italy like a flag and therefore identified Italian territory. I can understand the strong feelings of that time. But now Mussolini is long dead. Those magnificently crafted sculptures could have lived through many centuries. Sad to think they fell foul of a political moment in time. I’m glad that at least a few survived.
The back streets of Hvar are an endlessly interesting combination of stone, wrought iron and plants, which all come into their own on a fine day. History blends seamlessly into the present time.
And then there’s the harbour with the sea glistening in the early afternoon sun. It was calm on shore, but evidently out to sea there was enough breeze to send a yacht merrily on its way under sail.
Meanwhile in the harbour fishrmen were making ready for their next outing.
While in Mandrac, the sheltered inlet to the harbour, one man was tinkering with his boat, which went by the imaginative name of Hvar’s Little Wolf.
