Before anyone explains it to you, you can stand on a small ridge above Motovun in the early morning, when the river valley is still shrouded in fog, and sense the place’s strangeness. These hills have an Italian appearance. There are two and occasionally three languages on the road signs. The waiter at the foot of the hill will greet you in Croatian, abruptly switch to Italian, and apologize in English when he is tired of both. Technically, the largest peninsula in the Adriatic Sea, Istria, has always been more of a quiet conflict between empires than a single area.
The history is more complicated than the numbers. Approximately 90% of the 3,476 square kilometers of land that are sandwiched between the Gulf of Trieste and the Kvarner Gulf are in Croatia, with a small portion in Slovenia and a small Italian fringe close to Muggia. The largest city and the obvious tourist destination is Pula, which is located on the southernmost point. This is primarily due to a Roman amphitheater that has managed to withstand two millennia of weather, conflict, and selfie sticks. The area is roughly 1,220 square miles according to Britannica, which doesn’t seem like much until you start driving across it and realize that the interior keeps expanding into more hills, more vineyards, and more abandoned stone villages with a single church and café.
| Name | Istria (Istra in Croatian and Slovene; Istria in Italian) |
| What it is | The largest peninsula in the Adriatic Sea |
| Location | Northern Adriatic, between the Gulf of Trieste and the Kvarner Gulf |
| Countries sharing it | Croatia (≈90%), Slovenia (≈9%), Italy (<1%) |
| Total area | ~3,476 km² |
| Croatian portion | 3,130 km² |
| Coastline | Roughly 445 km, deeply indented |
| Highest point | Učka / Monte Maggiore, 1,401 m |
| Largest city | Pula, on the southern tip |
| Population (approx.) | Around 342,000 across all three sides |
| Languages | Croatian, Italian, Slovene; plus Chakavian, Istriot and Istro-Romanian |
| Climate | Mediterranean — hot summers, mild winters |
| Known for | Roman amphitheatre in Pula, white truffles, olive oil, Venetian hill towns |
It is still referred to as “Croatian Tuscany,” a moniker that the locals seem to both dislike and depend on for advertising. The reality is more nuanced. Tuscany is a region of one country, while Istria is the result of three nations civilly disputing over a single kitchen. It was held by Italy following World War I. After the Second World War, Yugoslavia seized it. The border between Croatia and Slovenia on the peninsula has never been fully agreed upon, in the most awkwardly Balkan way possible, since both countries gained independence in 1991. Most guests are unaware. The majority of Istrians shrug.
Observing this from the outside, it’s interesting to see how the location has managed its gradual rediscovery. Twenty years ago, German campers drove through Istria to get to the Croatian islands. The area has been named the world’s top olive-producing region for six years running by Flos Olei, a Michelin-style olive oil guide. In Rovinj, there are wine bars that charge Venice prices and get away with it. In addition to UNESCO-protected Roman villas and grazing zebras descended from Tito’s diplomatic gifts, the Brijuni Islands, located off the west coast, were once Tito’s personal playground. This is the kind of detail you couldn’t make up.
The easiest way in is through the food. The oak forests surrounding Motovun are still home to truffle hunters, who employ scruffy mongrels and the level of secrecy one might anticipate from those defending family property. Dense and slightly sweet, Boškarin beef appears on tasting menus that were nonexistent ten years ago. Eating slowly at some konoba in the interior gives the impression that the area has already decided what it wants to be before its tourists have. It’s not Italy. Nor is it truly the entirety of Croatia. If you ask, Istrians will tell you that they are first and foremost Istrians.
Politics also reflects this sense of pride in the area. For the majority of the post-Yugoslav era, the Istrian Democratic Assembly has dominated local elections, frequently opposing Zagreb on issues of bilingualism and autonomy. It is more difficult to predict whether that will continue as tourism revenue continues to flow in. Wellness retreats, boutique hotels housed in renovated stone homes, and the kind of slow-travel marketing that was successful for Provence in the 1990s appear to be the next phase, according to investors. They might be correct. In the process, the peninsula might also lose something peaceful, like the deserted roads, the unmarked olive groves, and the sense that no one is yet performing for you.
However, it continues to function for the time being. The Adriatic Sea’s largest peninsula continues to be a unique Mediterranean destination where you can drive twenty minutes inland into near-silence, hear three languages in a single market, and eat better than you should for the price you’re paying. It’s difficult not to wonder how long that combination lasts as you watch it change year after year.
