DISCOVERING CROATIA ON TWO WHEELS
“Sorry. Ferry’s full!” exclaims the burly boatman. His mouth clearly saw too much grog and too few toothbrushes. For the record, he didn’t actually use the word “Sorry.” Looking past the drawbridge of the small ferry, we realized that despite his unfriendly demeanor, he wasn’t at all wrong. The boat was packed, with no space for our side-bag-equipped motorcycles. So, although we arrived 10 minutes before departure, there was really nothing we could do. Looking around, we spotted a small coffee shop. We figured it was enough time for a nice Cappuccino and a chat before the next ferry arrived.
From bad to worse
Oh, how wrong we were. “Four hours,” said the charming sailor with an empathy usually reserved for death row inmates. “Come earlier next time!!” he blurted as he turned around and climbed onboard. With our mouths still gaping with surprise, we watched the ship leave the jetty for the distant continental coast on the horizon. It was time for a serious readjustment of our plans. Then again, we were, after all, stranded on Brač, which, by then, we nicknamed “motorcycle island.” The answer was there in plain sight! A stupid grin appeared simultaneously on both our faces. We turned our BMWs around and twisted our throttles all the way to the metal.
On the Adriatic Highway
The previous morning, we disembarked from a night ferry to Split, Croatia. The sailing was exactly what you’d expect from a Royal Caribbean mega cruise, only opposite in every conceivable way. The two good things I can say about it were;
1. The on-board Italian restaurant was quite decent
2. The cost of the whole affair did not require us to sell our kids to a diamond mining operation in the Congo.
Feeling a bit woozy from a night of light sleep, we rode slowly to the old town to clear our heads with shots of double espressos. Old Split is charming and worthy of its own post sometime in the future. For the benefit of this story, however, we will skip Split and its surroundings and head south along the Adriatic Highway.
Speaking of a highway, that could actually be a bit of an exaggeration. In reality, the “highway” is a beautiful, narrow, winding, single-lane road. Still, it beats a sleeping cabin on the Ancona-Split Ferry, so I guess we can’t complain. Starting around Rijeka in northern Croatia, it stretches for more than 700km until Ulcinj in southern Montenegro. Hugging the jagged Adriatic coastline, the Adriatic Highway is one of the most striking roads I’ve ever ridden. Surpassing the more famous California Pacific Coast Highway.
Let me be crystal clear: this route is a must for every petrolhead. Scenery aficionados will surely rejoice as well. If you do not belong to one of these two groups, take anti-motion-sickness pills. You’ll need them. The Adriatic Highway doesn’t believe in going straight. Having spent the morning and noon hours in and around Split, we were now heading to the town of Markaska, about a two-hour ride to the south.
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Stelar Stella Maris
The ride is so impressive you’d be forgiven for wanting to stop every five minutes to have a better look at the view and snap an Insta-perfect shot. Still, we did have some riding to do. There was a ferry we needed to take to reach our destination for the night. We tried our best to space out our scenery stops, stealing a quick glance at the view as we went. Finally, we stop at a point called Stella Maris. We couldn’t help ourselves. The view over the Adriatic was just too unforgettable to resist.
After gaining our breath back, I noticed a group of sport bikers nearby. A few of them had Packtalks. Working for Cardo, I went over to do my “how’s your communicators?” routine. As serendipity would have it, one of them, a charming big guy called Petar, was the Chairman of the Motorcycle Rider Association of Croatia. How convenient! He gave us the lay of the land and a few tips for the rest of our journey. He included some inside knowledge of empty riding roads that very few tourists know of. “In short,” he says, “Brač is a heaven for motorcycles.” I didn’t have a pen or paper next to me, so I tried my best to register everything into memory. He also recommends visiting the remote islands of Zastražišće (don’t ask me how to pronounce it properly) and Čara.
Brač Ferry
Looking at our itinerary, we are happy to discover that Brač is indeed where we’re heading. It was happiness with a smidgen of disappointment. The other two islands are out of our reach this time around. With half an hour of riding ahead of us to the Brač Ferry, we bid Petar and his merry band of riders goodbye and head to the port town of Makarska. We reach the port 5 minutes before 4pm, just in time to buy tickets and board the 4 o’clock boat.
I have no idea what made us think the ride to Brač was a 10-minute affair with the ferry line running frequently between the ports. Regardless, we would soon find both assumptions deeply flawed. For starters, it takes the better part of an hour to reach the tiny village of Sumartin on the Brač side of the strait. As for the other assumption… well, see the second paragraph above. At the moment, this is all still in the future. For now, we relax and let the gentle wind stroke our dwindling hairdos.
Brač Facts
Brač is one of the largest Croatian islands in the Adriatic Sea. With 40km from one end to the other and a maximum width of 14km, the island’s land area is about the same as Vienna or Atlanta – about 400 sq km. Minus the population, of course. With 22 settlements ranging from 3,000 residents down to a mere 24, the place is far from crowded. Almost all these small towns and villages lie along the island’s coast, leaving the massive center empty. And what an interior this Adriatic island has.
Google says Brač is known for its beaches, picturesque villages, the white limestone, olive oil, archeological sites, and a host of other attractions we couldn’t care less about. We’re here for the ride. Because connecting all those attractions is a system of well-kept, extra-twisty, empty roads, laid out by a motorcyclist, or perhaps, a cartographer with a severe case of Parkinson’s. A paradise for riders. Less of a paradise for motion-sickness-inclined passengers.
Brač Landing
It takes a surprisingly long time to cover what at first seemed like a quick 8km gap. We dock at the lovely village of Sumartin at about 5pm, but don’t linger too much to explore its charms. After the boatmate unties our two Bimmers, we hop on, start the bikes, and zoom away before the rest of the traffic can catch up. We’re heading to the town of Pučišća (again, please don’t ask me to pronounce), where we booked a double bedroom at the Puteos Palas Hotel. Our map applications indicate it takes 34 minutes to cover the mountainous 26km from the dock to the hotel. We make it at about 20.
We stop at a curb beside our hotel – a small, renovated, old palace set inside a tiny bay-side village so pretty it looks AI. Time to unload our side bags, check in, change into more comfortable shorts, and order two large cold beers. Heaven!
Heritage place
Puteos Palace is a renovated 15th-century palace. With more than 500 years of history, it is one of the oldest palaces on the Adriatic Coast. The palace was recently transformed into a heritage hotel with 15 rooms & suites and impeccable personalized service. The brochure further says that “Within palace walls hides a beautiful terrace & pool as a perfect getaway to unwind and relax in a natural environment.” After a long day of riding, lying at the side of that pool, cold glass of well-earned beer in my hand, all I can think of is “That damn brochure’s right!” The brochure also says, “food you may taste only in the heavens.” Having booked a dinner at the local restaurant, I will note that, although better than the dinner we had the night before, this sort of gastronomic hyperbole is best kept for the Italian side of the Adriatic.
Liesured breakfast is for losers!
We contemplate taking it easy the following morning and using the pool and spa facilities to their fullest, but ultimately decide against it. For motor fans like us, the island roads trounce any tourist spa. We hit bed early, planning to wake up first thing in the morning to explore the island. Besides, it’s not that the nightlife in a small, isolated hamlet is anything to write home about anyway. We set our alarm clock to 8am. The nearby church bell wakes us up at seven.
For its ample size, Brač is surprisingly easy to navigate. The 400 sq. km isle is made of a single mountain range running along its length. The tallest peak, Vidova Gora, stands at 780 m above sea level, making it the highest point of all the Adriatic islands. From there, the land to the north slopes gently towards the Brac Channel and the mountainous Croatian coast beyond. The southern seaside, on the other hand, is an almost sheer vertical drop into the deep Adriatic Sea below. Road 113 runs parallel to the ridge length for 43 twisty kilometers, starting at the Sumartin dock in the east and ending at Bobovišća to the west. Side roads branch out in both directions, not unlike ribs from a spine. In short, it’s hard to get lost in Brač, although, with the right set of wheels, you’d want to.
After a light breakfast and some decent coffee, we pay our dues at the reception, load our side bags, and start the day off by climbing up the 8km from Pučišća to road 113. Few cars hardly slow us down. Now, on the 113, we twist the throttle and hit it off to the farther side of the island, smiling inside our helmets all the way through. After we do the whole 43km of route 113 twice (and refuel), we go to explore the island’s side roads, starting with the “secret one” Petar told us about the day before.
Road to nowhere
Finding Route 6191 on the map is a bit of a challenge. The road is marked as an off-road single track (don’t worry, it’s not). You really need to zoom in on the right place on the map to even see it. Fortunately, locating 6191 in the real world is relatively easy. First, ride route 113 from Sumartin westwards for about 28km. Turn right at the “T” intersection. Ride for another 900 m and turn right again. Congratulations! You have arrived at road 6191. Easily one of the most insane pieces of tarmac I have ever been to (and, yes, I’ve been to quite a lot). This is why:
619 starts near the Vidova Gora peak and after about four kilometers of moderately fast sweepers over flat terrain of Mediterranean brush, it plunges steeply down the massive cliff into the big blue far, far below. At that point, 6191 changes its character completely and turns into a never-ending series of technical turns, short straights, and serpentines. The only thing that disrupts this riding nirvana is the stunning view of the outer Adriatic Islands and the Ocean beyond.
One thing that does not disrupt our ride is traffic. There is none. We’re a bit surprised by that, but soon discover the reason. After eleven heavenly kilometers, 6191 ends. Not at a village, not at a junction, not at some roadblock, not at some secret Specter submarine base from a James Bond movie. No. It just ends at a dead end exactly 100 meters above sea level. It is as if someone ran out of budget just before completing the project. More likely, someone in the capital, Zagreb, probably found out they were spending a huge fortune funding a road to nowhere. You see, Road 6191 is not just immaculately paved (and it is); constructing it on a sheer cliff face required insane concrete infrastructure, rock blasting, the works.
I’m not Bob the Builder. My friend is
I’m not a construction specialist, but my riding buddy is. He’s saying “several tens of millions of Euros were grafted out of someone’s budget to build this white elephant.” Corruption? We will never know. But, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it’s very likely a duck – Croatian-style. We are left to wonder as we scan the horizon and breathe in the majestic view. Then, we turn our bikes around, hop on, and ride up the road. We will repeat the whole routine when we get back to the top. “IF you’re doing something good,” I’m reminded of an old Head & Shoulders TV commercial, “Keep doing it!” Time to explore the tamer side of the island.
We cover the short distance to the main 113 road, turn left, and head to the western side of Brač. 3.5 km later, we turn right towards the town Splitska on the northern coast. We hit a pothole straight away, and I ran over a poor snake that chose the wrong time to cross the road. The rest of the road isn’t great either. Narrow and in a state of disrepair, it’s one island road (one of the very few) that isn’t such fun to ride. We’ve been riding now for the better part of two hours straight, and the adrenaline rush starts to wane. Time for a coffee break before heading back to Sumartin, the ferry, and the rest of the journey planned for the day.
We stop for a coffee break at a charming spot in the tiny village of Škrip, midway between Splitska and route 113. Enjoying our time and the coffee, we relax in the shade until realizing it’s almost half past ten. Not wanting to miss the ferry, and assuming there’s one going out every hour on the hour, we rush to pay up, mount the bikes, and ride away. Fast. The app shows it’s a 40-minute ride. Can we beat that?
Ferry blues
We cover the 35km distance from the coffee shop to the ferry in 23… A thousand doctors couldn’t have wiped the wide smiles covering our faces, having turned the semi-deserted 113 into a MotoGP racetrack. Not even the speedtrap camera, strategically placed just before the entrance to Sumartin. Missing the ferry, however, did. See the top of the post.
Dispirited and deflated, we sat at the tiny dock café to recalculate our plans for the day. Having recovered from the blow over a cup of coffee and some cold sodas, we reconfigured the rest of the day. Three hours of hard riding will bring us back half an hour before the 3pm departure. This should leave us with enough time to buy tickets and board. From there, an hour of sailing back to Markaska on the Croatian mainland. From there, a full-throttle ride should bring us to our Dubrovnik Airbnb around 6 pm. Then, a quick shower should set us on time for dinner in town. Good!
We mount the bikes, refuel the tanks, and head back on the 113, this time mindful of the speed camera on the way out. We pass it like good old retirees on a Harley-Davidson Road Glide. Passing it, we ditch our law-abiding demeanor and rip through the empty central thoroughfare. We head first to the island’s peak – Vidova Gora. Getting there is easy. Continue west on the 113 for about 27 km until you reach a “T” intersection – the exact same one we used earlier for 6191. Turn left, but instead of taking the right, continue straight for 6km until you reach a small parking lot. From there, a short skip and a hop on foot will get you to the 780m high top.
On top of Brač
We hope for a road as fun as the nearby 6191, but instead discover a route unfit for anything but a slow, careful ride. Narrow, potholed, and surprisingly congested, we find it hard to even overtake slow vehicles, let alone attempt any kind of spirited riding. Never mind, though, the 360-degree view from the top is worth the hassle. To the north, an interrupted blanket of Mediterranean brush slopes gently into the deep blue channel. To the south, the steep cliff reveals the Golden Horn Beach, almost straight below. This is probably the most famous stretch of sand on the entire Adriatic Coast. Just Google “Zlatni Rat”.
We contemplated giving the place a visit, but our swimming trunks are buried way too deep inside the sidebags, we have no towels, and the prospect of riding wet convinces us to head elsewhere. This beach will have to wait for our next time around. Returning to the central road, we now turn left and ride 13km northwest to Supetar – the largest town on the Island. We are happy to discover that this one is well-paved with gorgeous curves and turns. It can be tricky, though. Traffic and blind corners that tighten midway can challenge the novice. But, as long as you handle them with care and avoid anything stupid, this is another great one for the list.
Supetar superstar
Supetar plays the role of a small and charming beach town well. We take a place at one of the local restaurants overlooking a small harbor and order a light lunch and an okay-ish ice cream. Sorry, the Italians do it better. From Supetar, it’s 40 km, about 50 minutes, to our ferry at Sumartin. We make it in less than 30, trying to etch into memory each and every curve of this fabulous small island. We get to our destination with plenty of time to spare and make sure to board our vessel before everyone else. Better safe than sorry. From there, it’s an hour sailing and two hours of hard riding to Dubrovnik. Let’s hit it!
