Adriatic views: Hvar

"I sailed to Hvar for the first time many years ago, going from island to island, on an insuleidoscopic journey of wonders, where every day it was the wind that decided our route": this is how Fabio Fiori describes his first meeting with the Croatian island

Hvar for the Croatians, Lesina for the Venetians, Pharos for the ancient Greeks, because it was colonised by the inhabitants of the island of Paros. For everyone, yesterday as today, an island of wonders, long and sharp like a knife. Because it is almost seventy kilometres long and no more than ten kilometres wide. Because it is sharp, that is, sleek and seductive, first of all with unforgettable smells and dazzling colours. Smells of rosemary and lavender, colours of the sea and bush.

I sailed to Hvar for the first time many years ago, going from island to island, on an insuleidoscopic journey of wonders, where every day it was the wind that decided our route. Young people intoxicated with light and stories, with waves and encounters. The sunset light filtered by the Pakleni and their history. The nervous waves of the Hvar Channel when the Mistral strengthens in the afternoon, and the meeting with a Polish kayaker who went happily and stray from bay to bay.

I recently returned on a small, puffing, romantic Jadrolinija ferry, to a secondary landing place, less crowded, therefore more seductive. Sućuraj, the smallest and easternmost of the island's ports, connected to Drvenik, a town on the Državna cesta D8, better known as Jadranska Magistrala, one of the most beautiful coastal roads in Europe.

Thus the D116, which runs across the island from east to west, can be considered its variant, even more spectacular, especially if you cycle or walk. The D116 is the backbone of the island, with bones that descend steeply towards the sea, always offering a good reason for a digression, whether it is a dive from a pier or a pivo in a konoba.

There are therefore many possible stops, even in a crescendo of urban architecture: Jelsa, Vrbosca, Stari Grad, all built on the northern side of the island, the one facing the mainland.

The exception, even brighter, is the capital city of Hvar, with an ancient port naturally protected by the Pakleni archipelago. About fifteen islands, islets and rocks only half a mile from the port, which deserve to be explored by rowing, if possible. Islands that owe their name to a pine resin once used to caulk boats. Islands inhabited since ancient times, where remains have been found of Roman villas and religious buildings.

Hvar was for centuries the Venetian Lesina, of which precious architectural testimonies remain. Lions of Saint Mark appear at every corner even to the most distracted tourist, as well as churches, bell towers, convents, palaces, loggias, the Arsenal and the theatre - they were built in the period of influence first and then domination, starting from the 15th century, until the fall of the Republic in 1797. The theatre is one of the oldest civic institutions in Europe, inaugurated in 1612 and reopened a few years ago.

An architectural unicum, a union between ancient arts: shipbuilding and theatrical representation, both united by sails/canvases that are hoisted and lowered by handling ropes, with the help of blocks, tackles, bollards and a whole lot of very nautical paraphernalia. Just as the stage resembles the bridge, with actors and actresses of different levels, all responsible for the success of navigation.

The Arsenal and theatre delimit part of the southern side of Piazza Santo Stefano, which is ideally divided into three parts: green, the small nineteenth-century garden; water, the Venetian mandracchio (a small harbour); and stone, the paving that leads to the Cathedral of the same name, built between the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

On the other side of the theatre, there is the large hotel and the old café, built by the Austrians in the early twentieth century, reorganising previous Venetian architecture including the loggia, where you can still breathe the air of Belle Époque tourism.

High on the hill, the Spanish fortress offers a spectacular view of the city, the Pakleni, and the sea. But my favourite place is the Convent of San Francesco and its garden, where in any season, even in the months of tourist siege, you can find ancient, necessary silence, set to music by the waves which lap against its perimeter wall. Cypress shadows and scents invite you to meditate, whether in a religious or secular spirit, to read or to idle, perhaps even indulging in a bath of light and water.